His only reason (Emblem 3 fanfic)

His only reason (Emblem 3 fanfic - Chapter 7)

I was right. As we were walking in, Demetri complained to me about how ‘dangerous it was for me to run off like that’ and how ‘celebrities are harmless, I just need experience’. But I know he’d never understand me, or what I go through. I ignored his nagging, I would have to put up with it from my Abuela later tonight.
Holding my hand, Demetri led us into a small cafe, with a decent sized stage in one corner of it. There was a mini restaurant in a corner, and a coffee place in the other. Strange venue for a concert, but I guess they wanted to ‘connect better’ with their fans in a more conformed matter.
We wound up about 4 rows back from the stage, most likely because I was dragged straight into the dead center of a random row once the stage was spotted. “Isn’t this perfect?” Demetri squealed, tightening his grip on my arm. “Of course,” I muttered, placing my hand on my left temple. The screams around me nearly caused me to go deaf.
“What a view,” I whispered as the raging strobe lights practically blinded me. I figured it was about 7 pm, meaning the opening act would come on in a few minutes. I’ve never heard of the opening act either, most likely an un-known, wannabe popstar whom I wouldn’t be interested in. I just needed to see Wesley again. My main intentions are to grab his attention, and keep it on me. I need clarification on that blinding glare he gave me, what did I do? Did he have a sour cappuccino?
To distract myself, my attention was captivated by the people surrounding me. People were toppling over me, trying their hardest to reach the stage but being effortlessly tossed back to their original places in the crowd. Two girls in particular caught my eye however. One has beautiful, luscious long straight blonde hair which tickled her waist. The other long brown curls, dipped pink at the ends. They were both thin, their northface jackets pulled up so their hip bones could make a slight appearance from their low jeans. Both wore chesnut brown boots, which in my opinion didn’t match, but they somehow pulled it off. I churned at their confidence to wear such an outfit, returning my hands to my pockets, shifting my thigh gapless legs.
I nudged Demetri with my shoulder. “Look at them,” and pointed my chin in their direction. They were laughing now, eagerly typing away on their expensive iPhones, covered in a cheaply jeweled Juicy Couture case. Toothy smiles were almost painted on their faces. “What about them?” He questioned, studying their behavior. “They’re, well, they’re beautiful.” He placed his hand on my left hip and chuckled. “So are you.”
I’ve never thought of myself as beautiful. My brown hair, ombred to blonde, cascaded down my chest in small, loose curls. I had a few pimples on my nose, and a chipped tooth next to my front. Any sort of beauty pageant would shriek once they saw me walk down the stage.
He started up again. “You don’t need to be perfect to be beautiful.” I looked back up at his reassuring smile. “No matter how cheesy that sounds, it’s true. It sounds like I got this from a TLC show, but I promise I didn’t. You’re perfect, so stop fretting.” I stared back at my feet, gaping a smile. “Thank you.”
The lights dimmed, and a cloud of smoke began to process out of a small machine on the ground. It outlined the stage so it looked as if we were walking through a misty forest at night. A soft beat began to play as a young man, possibly 20, walked out on stage. The crowd’s screams nearly pierced my ears. He was dressed in a grey vest which loosely draped over his plain vneck, and tight black jeans. “Are you guys ready?” He asked, erupting a whole new band of screams.
He went through a short set list, his music was pop and hopefully nothing like Emblem 3’s. By the end of his final song, I was so pushed up against the person in front of me, I could practically taste the gel and hair spray holding her poorly scrunched hair. “Who’s ready to see Emblem 3?” A chant arouse through out the crowd, and I could see an immediate wave of iPhone’s parading into the air. “Emblem 3!” The lights dimmed. “Emblem 3!” Firsts were thrown in the air. “Emblem 3!” My throat tightened, and the opening act walked away. An all too familiar sound began to softly play, and the crowd began to go wild.
“Demetri,” I screamed, looking to my right for reassurance. He was busy chanting though, the words nearly spilling off of his tongue. I punched his shoulder, coming closer to his ear. “I don’t feel good.” He gave me a smile, clearly not hearing me, and re-started his chant. My nausea returned, I could feel my legs stiffening. I just- the music got louder. In the fog, you could make out three people standing on stage, two tall ones on the ends, and the smallest boy in the middle. I could barely see through the strobe lights and smoke. “Let’s take a trip to Sunset Boulevard, in the city of stars.” My eyes widened as the smoke cleared out, and there they were.
On the left, a muscular boy, clearly the oldest, approaching the crowd, putting his hand out for one lucky fangirl to hold. The boy from Penn Station stood in the middle, biggest smile plastered on his face, awkwardly waddling in a standing position, whispering into his microphone. But then there was Wesley, stood at the edge of the stage on the right, the words flowing out of his mouth lightly.
My heart rate began to pick up when I realized the two familiar faces on stage were the ones I had seen earlier. My throat completely closed, I could barely gasp for air. “Wesley,” I mouthed, “Keaton.” I looked back at the boy in the middle, who met my hopeless glare. His eyes widened, and he stook his hand out for me to reach, but I continued staring into his deep green eyes, oblivious to the hand pointed in my direction. A dozen hands grabbed at his arm, and he was pulled closer, but kept his posture, continuing the song he was embedded in.
For what seemed like forever, we were having a staring contest, our eyes focused on one anothers. The conversation went on for what was hours. No words had to be spoken to completely understand a person. “Here’s a peace sign going out to all my haters, high five Keaton.” The Penn Station boy broke off our stare and turned to the oldest one, high fiving him, but beginning to whisper in his ear. My ears popped, I couldn't hear a thing. Everything was moving in slow motion. I glanced over at Wesley, who was questioning my look, and mouthed something I couldn’t read.  My heart was nearly skipping beats, my hands began to clench. And that was when it went black.

Author's Note: Any predictions on what happens next? The more feedback I get the faster the next chapter will be up x