My camera's flash was refusing to cooperate. I fumbled with the switch, trying to slide the stupid piece of shit into place above the lense. I cursed loudly as it dropped to the floor, the loud thump being absorbed by the screeching of Josh's guitar. It looked like I wasn't the only one having a tad bit of trouble. He was flailing his arms around like a windmill as he tried to get the attention of the sound engineers up in the box. I smirked at him as I scooped up the flash and shoved it hastily on to my camera. My hands were slick with sweat. It was ridiculous. I felt like I was the one about to go on stage.
I jumped at the sound of abrupt giggling from behind me. Cal and Adam were sitting on a couch backstage, so close they were practically laughing into eachother's mouths. Adam was squished up against one of the armrests, Cal's right leg swung over Adam's left. There was enough room to fit five more people on the bloody couch with the way they were sitting on top of one another. They looked like one of those vomit-worthy Instagram couples. Cal suddenly glanced in my direction and I hastily looked away, pretending that I was scrolling through my camera's gallery instead.
We had eventually been kicked out of Nando's. Apparently, we were loud and disruptive, and they were under the impression that Eloise was 'highly intoxicated'. She just gets excited when there's drama unfolding in front of her. Especially if it involves her nearest and dearest. To be honest, I think she was highly dissappointed with my reaction. Maybe she'd been expecting me to throw a tantrum or fling a few glasses in Adam's general direction. And if they accidently hit Calum, well, what can you do?
"Okay," was all I said, and I took a few sips from my Coke and awaited the outburst that was sure to come from El. I didn't have to wait long. The conundrum that followed resulted in us being kicked out the doors and told to never bother coming back again. We began to traipse back towards the venue, my mind a muddled mess of confusion. I wasn't against Cal and Adam being together but it did make me slightly uncomfortable. It was my best friend and my ex, for Christ's sake! Of course, it was weird. I also couldn't understand how I hadn't noticed it before. Calum definitely wasn't gay but was he bi? Pan? I'd never heard him say anything even close to being attracted to guys before. Maybe it was just Adam, maybe he was Adamsexual.
I snorted at the thought, shattering the peaceful silence that had lulled us into a false sense of security. Adam and Cal looked terrified of me, El looked excited, waiting for me to bust some sort of fuse.
Adam, on the other hand, wasn't so difficult to figure out. I thought back to all the times I'd introduced him to different girls, hoping that he'd stop being a grumpy git if he had a girlfriend. He hardly even batted and eye lid at any of the girls, saying that he didn't have time for anyone. I felt a pang of guilt as I glanced back at my best friend, wondering if he hadn't trusted me enough to tell me. If I hadn't been a good enough friend.
Something else was bothering me. The not so little, blaringly obvious fact that Adam had never been a big fan of Cal. He literally threw a tantrum when I told him that we were going out, warning me that he was "bad news" and would probably end up hurting me. Whenever we all hung out together, he always did his best to avoid Cal, standing at the opposite end of the room at house parties, even making sure to sit a couple feet away from him whenever Cal forced him to play COD with him. One time, when we went camping, and El suggested that the girls take one tent and the boys take the other, he freaked. He was so against the idea that he was almost in tears, begging me to let him sleep with me instead of...oh. Oh. Oh my God! It all makes sense now.
I whipped around, stopping right in the middle of the pavement to the protests of passer-by's surrounding us. I ignored the grunts and the complaints, only having eyes for the boys standing in front of me.
"How long have you liked him?" I ask Adam, nodding my head in Cal's direction.
Calum seems to perk up at this and turns to Adam expectantly, who turns a bright shade of pink. It starts at his ears and then seems to flow down through his neck before his cheeks look like they've been badly sunburned. He stutters profusely, his gaze swivelling nervously between Cal and me. Cal begins to smirk, but it's one filled with warmth and maybe even love for the blushing boy standing next to him. I can't bear it. It hurts my heart (and not exactly in a bad way).
"Um...couple of years?" Adam trails off, as if he was asking himself, before glancing at the cheeky grin on Cal's face and sighing in defeat. "Since we were thirteen", he mumbled and if my heart was aching before, it was most definitely broken now.
A hand on my shoulder brings me back to the venue and my camera in my arms and the fact that I need to be working. Not only are these photos for my final project (which I guess I could care less about), the lads have already admitted that they'd quite like it if I could take a picture that would deem fit as their new profile picture on Facebook. I know nothing about Facebook but it sounds important enough to make me slightly more nervous than I already am.
The hand squeezes my shoulder gently and I glance up only to have El's long hair tickle my face. I blow it out of the way and she laughs, swiping as much of the blonde locks behind her ears as she can. She's blushing profusely, and I know it's because she's just spent the last ten minutes watching Pete, all googly-eyed. God, I hope that's not what I look like whenever I find myself staring at Ross. Which I begin to do right now. Because, what the hell? It's not like I'm going to get to do this much longer. Soon, the gig will be over, and we'll be going back home, and I'll probably never see nor hear of The Strypes again. This thought causes a wrench-like feeling to rip through my gut.
El notices and bends down a little so she can wrap her arms around my neck. I sigh, leaning back into her and closing my eyes. I want to tell her that it's all her fault. If she'd never dragged me to that stupid concert, I'd never have even heard of this stupid band. I'd never have allowed myself to fall for a fucking rock star, of all people. I'd probably still be with Cal and everything would be perfectly normal and not completely chaotic. This is exactly what it is; chaotic. I feel like my insides have turned out and everything in proximity is being devoured by my bedlam. It's absolute mayhem. And I'm hopelessly in love with it.
I'm hundreds of miles away from home, with my greatest and newest friends. Eloise has her arms wrapped tight like a warm scarf around my neck, swaying me from side to side. The boy that I love is just beyond the wings where I'm curled up in a ball, the stage lights casting him in all shades of blue and red and green. He doesn't have his glasses on so I can see the creases around his eyes when he throws back his head in laughter. I can see the easy, playful way in which he grasps on to the mic, no hint of nervousness dancing in his brown eyes, fluorescent under the flashing lights. And my best friends are cradled together on a dust-eaten couch, calm in each other's safety. And Cal is gripping tight to Adam's forearms and Adam is slowly running the pad of his thumb along Cal's cheek and I don't think I've ever smiled so much in my life.
El notices my tears before I do. She wipes them away with the end of her sleeves and kisses the top of my head. I want to tell her that I'm happy, that everything is okay, but all words fail me when the music halts and the stage begins to clear and Ross is walking towards me, looking happy, then scared. I smile at him as he drops down in front of me, asking me what's wrong. I shake my head profusely; choke out a tiny "nothing", before pulling him flush against me into a hug. I don't care that my camera is poking into my ribs or that Ross isn't convinced that I really am okay. Because I am, I really really am.
**
I can't believe I'm saying this but The Strypes are actually pretty fucking amazing. I know I'm supposed to be working but I can't help it. Every now and then, my foot starts tapping like crazy to the beat of Evan's drums and I only notice when my pictures start turning out all blurry. At first, I was dead nervous about being placed directly in front of the pit. There's no one else here except for these three burly, rather intimidating security guards, who glare down the back of my neck whenever they aren't busy keeping an eye on the frantic crowd. Which isn't too often, considering I've almost been trampled on twice since the gig began, with girls trying to climb over the barrier. Thankfully, one of the (and probably my favourite) roadies, Kyle, decided to keep me company, graciously reminding me every now and then that there were four members in the band, not one. I cringed in embarrassment every time this happened but Kyle would simply laugh at my blaringly obvious crush on the lead singer.
After twenty minutes or so of taking shots from below the stage, I decided that I wanted to get a different angle (I mean, looking directly up at Ross's crotch was great but probably not exactly professional). Without speaking a word, I began to clamber on to Kyle's back, ignoring his protests as I shimmied my way up to his shoulders. I slipped suddenly, Kyle grasping quickly on to the backs of my legs and I rolled my eyes impatiently.
"Push my ass up, would you?" I yelled, and he groaned loudly, stooping over so I could slide easily on to his shoulders. He stood back up, clutching on to my knees to make sure I was steady. The security guards definitely did not like me now but I waved my camera in their faces apologetically and they left us alone. For now.
I balanced my camera on Kyle's head, and quickly began to snap as many pictures as I could, aware that some angry teenaged girls were beginning to get very antsy behind us. I was about to slide down Kyle's back again when the Ross's voice was suddenly calling my name. Over the microphone. Oh shit...
I ended up staring up at Ross, one leg still slung over Kyle's shoulder, the other hanging precariously down his back. It took me a moment to realise that the lads had stopped playing and they were all staring at me, wide creepy grins gracing their faces. All I could hear was my own laboured breathing as Ross took a few steps forward until my nose was almost pressing into his shirt. He smelled like sweat and apples and I involuntarily leaned in towards him, causing Kyle to flail like a fish beneath me, grabbing my other leg and swinging it around his shoulder again, mumbling something that sounded like "Jesus, Mary and fucking Joseph" under his breath.
I was about to thump him in the chest with the ball of my foot for distracting me when Ross suddenly cupped both his hands around either side of my face. They were warm and clammy, and for the first time that night I got a sense of nervousness about him. Which made me nervous. He moved his hands up further and I could feel his heartbeat pulsating from his wrist into my cheek. It made mine speed up right along with it. Something light fluttered impatiently in my chest, wondering what on earth he was doing (and secretly hoping he would never stop). He leaned closer to me, my heart ramming against my ribcage with the strength of a bull. I gripped on to his wrists as his lips brushed gently up against my ear. A shiver ran down my spine and my thighs tightened around Kyle's neck of their own accord. If I wasn't careful, I might choke the poor guy to death.
"I hope you don't mind," Ross whispered, and I had to bite my bottom lip to stop myself from instantly telling him that of course I didn't mind, despite the fact that I didn't have a clue what was happening.
"I was gonna save this for later, for just you and me." I shudder when he says this and my hands squeeze his tighter, travelling up his arms so that they're resting on his biceps.
"But I'm actually quite proud of this and I want everyone to know. I just didn't want to give you a fright or anything. I just want you to know that I don't expect anything from this, okay? Everything is still the same, just like we agreed."
My hands are moving further up again and I realise that I might accidently pull him down if he keeps breathing in my ear like this, his teeth threateningly close to my ear lobe. So I drop my hands to his waist instead, inwardly groaning at what an idiot I am for thinking this position would be any better. He's saying something again. His mouth is blowing hot breaths across my skin and I really want to listen but it's too fucking distracting.
And then he's pulling back, and I'm eternally embarrassed by how clingy I'm being, grasping tighter around his waist. He doesn't move far. He stops inches from my face, staring me down with his heavy brown eyes, and he's never looked at me like this before. Like he knows exactly what he's doing and he's not a bit anxious about it. He leans in and I close my eyes by default, hoping he will hurry up and kiss me already so I can learn how to breathe again. His lips are dangerously close to mine now and another wave of embarrassment washes over me and practically drags me under when I let out a little whimper. I can feel Ross smile against the corner of my mouth and I it's like I'm being dangled overboard, crocodiles snapping at my feet.
"This one's for you, Stella" he mumbles against my skin and finally he's kissing me, long and hard, his nose and chin jutting against my own. It's over far too soon and he's running back to the mic to the sound of wolf whistles and applause, the loudest of course belonging to my three idiot friends. I want to get down from Kyle's shoulders. I want to clamber up on to the stage and drag him back down to me. I want to kill him. I want to kiss him. I'm about to do every one of those things when Ross begins to sing. It's a song I've never heard before and it catches me off guard. Josh, Pete and Evan are sitting back, grinning earnestly as Ross dominates the stage all by himself and his acoustic guitar.
It only takes me a matter of seconds to realise the song's about me and for a terrifying moment, I think I'm about to pass out. I clutch on to either side of Kyle's face, hoping it'll give me some sense of reality. Because this can't be real. This can't be happening. No one has ever written a song for me before. I had never expected anyone to write a song for me. The idea was absolutely absurd, ridiculous. Fucked up, really. Yet here is Ross, singing about me, to me, sending my heart into a catapulting mess whenever his mouth smiles around the words. He catches my gaze again, and this sends him into a fit of laughter as he accidently makes a bummy note on his guitar. I want to smile at him encouragingly, but I've forgotten how to.
I hear cheering around me, claps and shouts and chants and whistles. But I can only really see Ross's hand as he extends it out towards me. I feel Kyle pushing me from his shoulders and on to the stage but I can only really feel Ross wrapping one arm around my waist and pulling me tight against his chest. The neck of his guitar pokes into my back as I burrow my face into his red and black checkered shirt, not believing that I'm even capable of crying twice in one day.
Lol, I don't know what I'm even doing anymore.
The next chapter is literally gonna be a Ross and Stella fest, and not gonna lie, I'm pretty excited hahah.
Thanks for reading xXXx