Chapter Text
Stiles Stilinski had a pretty good life. He was in one of the biggest boy bands in the world with three of his best friends (well, two of his best friends, and a douchebag who was lovable in his own right) and he had a lot of money to go around, so why was he stressing out about one little magazine interview?
Oh right, because it wasn’t just some magazine. It was one of the hugest magazines in the industry, and his band was going to be one of the main features in their Best of 2014 issue.
“Dude, you’ve got to chill. Argent is gonna think you’re going through withdrawl or something the way you’re shaking. And management does not want a repeat of the Jackson incident,” Scott said, gesturing towards their bandmate.
“Shut up, McCall. At least it wasn’t on the cover of Tiger Beat that I had never been kissed till I was 20,” Jackson smirked and Danny rolled his eyes.
“Personally, I think it adds to his appeal as the band’s softie. All the twelve year olds love a guy with the same experience as them,” Stiles said, Scott’s face changing from slightly mad to incredulous.
“Shut up, all of you. That’s Lydia Martin, walking towards us, right now, with Allison Argent. Do you want them to think there’s a breakup in the future,” Danny hissed, nodding towards the two gorgeous girls making their way across the restaurant.
Lydia Martin and Allison Argent were half last year’s band of the year, Lipstick Arrows, and if you heard Allison on the guitar, you knew it wasn’t because her father owned the magazine. It was tradition for last year’s hottest band to interview the current year’s, but Stiles was confused as to where the other two members, Kira Yukimura and Malia Tate-Hale were.
“Hi, you must be Triskelion. I’m Allison,” she sat down across from them. “And this,” she gestured to the strawberry blonde next to her. “Is Lydia.” Lydia smiled, and it was somehow intimidating.
“Yup, that’s us. We’re all huge fans, by the way,” Danny said, because was apparently he was not at a loss even though two of the best artists in the world were sitting in front of him.
“Yeah, we’re, uh, huge fans. I love your music,” Scott said, making puppy eyes at Allison, who he’d had a crush on since he was sixteen and she was seventeen and starring in a Disney sitcom.
Allison smiled, and Stiles was pretty sure Scott had, like, a religious experience or something along those lines.
Jackson started to introduce them, but was interrupted by Lydia. “Wait, let me see if I can remember based off of what my little cousin’s told me,” she said/
“Ok, let’s see. Danny, the geek, right? The one the older fans fawn over?” she pointed to him.
“Yup, that’s me. I have a degree in computer engineering,” he confirmed.
“Jackson, the unbearably hot, cold-as-ice, hard-as-nails, one?” Jackson winked, but Lydia seemed unaffected by his flirtatiousness.
“Stiles, weird name by the way, you’re the funny guy who everyone is secretly in love with?”
“Is that all I’m known for? Not my charming good looks or sparkling personality?” Lydia rolled her eyes at the response.
“So you must be Scott, adorable puppy dog who has wooed millions of teenagers via shaggy hair and big brown eyes,” Allison said with a smile.
All Scott could do in response was nod with an idiotic smile on his face.
“Now that we’re all familiar with each other, let’s get to the interview, yeah?” Lydia said, Allison made a sound of agreement.
They answered the generic how do you feel about this title, what does music mean to you, and what’s fame been like for you questions first. Then they got to the deeper questions of has fame changed you and things like that. Then, finally, a question that took them by surprise.
“How do you feel about the fact that you’ll be sharing your title with indie rock band Phases of the Moon?” Lydia asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
“Actually, this is the first we’ve heard of it,” Danny broke the silence. Danny was always on top of things.
“Well, for the first time ever, there was a tie in the committee for who was going to be band of the year. You may notice that Malia Tate-Hale and Kira Yukimura are absent from the interview, and that is because they’re interviewing Phases,” Allison explained.
“Well, I think it’s great! I haven’t heard much of their stuff, but from what I’ve heard, I think they deserve it too!” Scott said, being his optimistic, kind, self.
Stiles tried to conjure up an image of the other band in his mind. It was composed of five people, two girls, Cora Hale (cousin of Malia Tate-Hale), Erica Reyes and three guys, Derek Hale (sister of Cora), Vernon Boyd, and Isaac Lahey. And, from what Stiles remembered from the cover of their CD (which was underneath his bed, a discarded Christmas present), they were all really, really hot.
After everyone had basically ditto’d Scott’s response (except for Jackson, apparently a huge Phases fan), the interview started to wrap up.
“It was really great meeting you guys! We’re gonna be at the photoshoot next week, and since you guys apparently haven’t been in the loop, I’ll tell you now that Phases is gonna be at the photoshoot too, for a couple of group pictures!” Allison said cheerily, like she was delivering the best news in the world.
Jackson looked like one of their younger fans at a meet and greet, and Danny looked mildly terrified.
Lydia and Allison gathered up their stuff and said their goodbyes, leaving the four of them alone again.
“Dude,” Danny whispered.
“What?” Stiles was confused. Scott would’ve been too, Stiles thought, if he hadn’t been busy basking in the afterglow of the eyesex him and Allison had been having as she exited the premises.
“We’re gonna meet Derek Hale. As in, the literal sexiest man alive,” Danny said, his eyes bulging.
“Hey, I thought that was me,” Jackson snapped out of his fanboy haze.
Danny rolled his eyes. Everyone knew Jackson had a huge crush on Danny and was too afraid to admit it.
Stiles pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened up Google and typed in derek hale.
“Damn,” Stiles whistled.
“Right? I can’t wait to meet them!” Danny said.
“Does the rest of the band look like this?” Scott said, grabbing Stiles’ phone. “Oh my god, how are we gonna stand next to them?”
Stiles grabbed his phone from Scott and entered phases of the moon band. Scott grabbed the phone back before Stiles could even look at the pictures, let alone measure their hotness.
“Oh my god,” Scott wailed loudly. “We’re so screwed, Stiles. They’re all, like, out of this world hot.”
Stiles took his phone back and looked at the picture. There was a pair of tall, gorgeous, blondes, one a girl with long hair and the other a boy with adorable curls. The blonde girl has her arm wrapped around the waist of the tall, scary-looking dude, who was a high contrast to the petite brunette on his other side. Then, on the end, hardly in the picture, was Derek Hale, looking angry and extremely serious.
Danny nodded in agreement, much to Jackson’s dismay.
“We’re like, adorable. Like, old ladies want to pinch our cheeks and ruffle our hair. These guys are like, hot. Like, middle-aged women flash them and college kids get extremely drunk and try to get backstage at their shows,” Stiles said, mostly to himself.
They were all in agreement- come next week, they were totally screwed.