Archive of Our Own

“I fucked up.”

“ What an opening line, man,” Bobby snorted, barely looking up from his phone. Alex had just marched into the dressing room with all the urgency of someone truly panicked, tossing his drumsticks onto the nearest dressing table and running his hands through his hair. Then he’d come around the couch to find the rest of the band sprawled over it in a tangled heap of limbs, all of them winding down from the show they’d just played. Julie was on her phone, too, and Luke was scribbling furiously in his notebook. Reggie was asleep or close to it on Bobby’s shoulder, not that Bobby seemed to mind, but when Alex barged in, he sat up straight, blinking at the banging sound the door made as it slammed behind Alex. 

Their opening band was nowhere in sight; Dirty Candi had a long-standing tradition of getting cheese fries together after their set. Alex wished Carrie had stayed behind; he could use advice right now from someone containing more sense than the fools he’d grown up with and their lead singer, who happened to be dating one of the fools he’d grown up with.  

“Go on, enlighten us,” Julie said, waving a hand as Alex came around the couch and found a spot between Bobby and Luke, throwing himself down with a great sigh that he thought accurately encompassed his current state of mind. Reggie rubbed his eyes and then slumped back down to rest his head on Bobby’s shoulder once more, and Luke closed  his notebook to give Alex his full attention. 

“Okay,” he began, and then stopped. He’d come in here with every intention of spilling his guts to the band, but now he wasn’t sure. Making out with strangers in shady club alleys wasn’t what Alex did. Not ordinarily, anyways; they’d all had their share of stints with the law, being an underage rock band that got their start playing the club scene of Los Angeles, but Alex wasn’t normally so… reckless. He had no idea how the others would react if he told them he’d pushed someone whose name he didn’t even know up against a wall and kissed him to hide him from the cops. 

Not just kissed him, either. Alex knew it had all been an act, but it was still the most thorough makeout session he’d participated in in months. 

Make it convincing, he heard the skateboarder say in his mind. He shuddered. 

He opened his mouth to say more, but Luke beat him to it. “Dude, is that a hickey? ”

The atmosphere in the dressing room changed drastically in a matter of milliseconds, everyone on the couch craning their necks and leaning in to get a better view, and Alex squeezed his eyes shut, knowing  he was busted. “Shit.”

“Ex cuse me?” Julie yelped, shoving Luke backwards into the couch cushion so she could lean closer. “When did that happen?”

“You were gone for less than thirty minutes, man,” Bobby said, and Reggie huffed out a laugh. 

“I told you, I made a mistake,” Alex groaned, burying his face in his hands. He wanted to shrink into his hoodie and disappear. He wanted to flee the scene before he was asked any truly incriminating questions. Mostly, he just wanted to kiss that beautiful boy again. He’d known, deep down, that he couldn’t conceal this from the band forever. They were family. Closer than family, and they would’ve figured it out or pried it out of him eventually. He just hadn’t expected it to be so soon after the fact. 

“A mistake that leaves marks, ” Julie observed. Luke reached out as if he was going to poke Alex’s neck, and Julie smacked his hand away.

“Behave,” she snapped. “What happened, Alex? Are you…” She hesitated. “I mean, is everything okay?”

“Yes,” Alex was quick to reassure her, raising his head to meet her eyes. “Yes, I’m fine. Everything was… I was fine with it, I mean. More than fine with it. I just…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hands, wishing he’d kept his drumstick to occupy his restless fingers. 

“So what’s his name?” Reggie asked, and Alex winced. 

“About that,” he said, and then stopped. 

Luke and Bobby howled. 

“You didn’t even get his name? ” Luke demanded between fits of helpless laughter. “You sly dog, Mercer, you-”

“Alex,” Bobby wheezed, “who carries all his own equipment from the bus to the stage because he’s too anxious to ask the techs for help, kissing and running-”

“Both of you, shut up,” Julie said, and then turned back to Alex. “What’d he look like? Maybe he’s still here.”

“He’s, uh.” Alex shook his head furiously. “He’s not still here. He had to go.”

“You’re blushing,” Reggie observed. 

“I am not, ” Alex shot back, but he could feel his cheeks burning and knew they were bright red.

“Was he hot, at least?” Bobby asked, and Alex buried his face in his hands again. He wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

“Of course he was hot,” Luke said. “Alex has standards, and you know what they say about drummers-”

“If you finish that sentence, so help me God, you are sleeping on the floor tonight,” Julie said, swift and vicious, and Luke’s mouth closed with an audible click, his expression appropriately alarmed. 

“He was,” Alex agreed, ignoring Luke; he’d had years of practice. He was thinking of the skateboarder, of his quick grin and his beautiful long hair and his cheekbones and the way he looked when he had just been kissed within an inch of his life. “He was very hot.”

“Did you exchange phone numbers?” Julie asked, ever the pragmatic and helpful one. “Personal details? Do you know anything about him that would help you find him again?”

“What-” Alex shook his head. “What makes you think I want to find him again?” 

The other four people on the couch all made various noises of disbelief, even Julie. 

“Dude,” said Luke. “ Bro. You come marching in here like a man on a mission-”

“Looking very flustered and very smitten,” Reggie added, reaching across Bobby’s chest to pat Alex’s face, which still felt like it was a flaming red tomato color. 

“You’ve got two new hickeys that weren’t there before,” Luke continued. 

“Three,” Alex corrected him miserably, and this time, when Luke reached for him, Julie didn’t bat his hand away. He yanked down the collar of Alex’s sweatshirt, revealing the third mark on his collarbone, and everyone made similar hooting noises. 

Bobby whistled. “All of this in the span of twenty minutes?”

“It was more like five,” Alex said honestly, because time had been a little fuzzy while he’d been making out with the hot skateboarder, but they had only kissed for as long as it took a single cop to walk the length of an alley, so it couldn’t have been that long. 

“ More like five -” Luke began, sounding almost offended. 

Julie cut him off. “Did he just walk up and start kissing you? Was there any preamble to this?”

“No,” said Alex. “No, I, uh, kissed him first?”

Reggie laughed. “Of course you did-”

“Damn, Mercer,” Bobby said, sounding impressed. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Julie wasn’t done, though. “Was there a conversation? How did this happen? Where did this happen?”

“The alley,” Alex said, relieved to finally have a definitive answer. “Out behind the club. And uh. There was a conversation? Kind of. He needed help.”

“With what, finding his tongue? ” Luke muttered in a low voice, and Julie whacked him in the chest with the back of her hand. 

“Enough from the peanut gallery,” she said, and then to Alex, “What did he need help with?”

“He was running from…” Alex let out a sigh. Too late to back out now. “He was running from the cops and needed help.”

“So you offered to… kiss him?” Reggie asked, sounding puzzled. 

“No, I pushed him against the building-”

“You pushed him against the building? ” four voices demanded at once. 

“To hide him from view and then the cop got closer so I kissed him to, uh. Hide his face,” Alex finished lamely.

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then Luke said, “Can I make a different joke about drummers now?”

“You cannot,” Julie said, “but thank you for asking.”

“So this wasn’t just a kiss,” Bobby observed. “This was, like, a kiss. ”

“A kiss, ” Reggie agreed, nodding. He hadn’t wiped off his eyeliner from the show yet, and it was a smudged mess on his face. It was very hard to take his gravely solemn expression seriously when he looked like a raccoon. 

“You guys are being ridiculous,” Alex complained. His voice sounded too high and defensive even to his own ears, but he had to at least try to preserve his dignity. “It was like, two minutes, and then he had to skate home so he wouldn’t still be here if the cops came back. I was just helping him out. Seriously. I don’t need- I don’t want to find him again, even if that was remotely possible.”

“Amazing,” Luke said. “That was so much bullshit in one sentence that I don’t even know where to start.”

“I don’t-” Alex protested, and Julie patted him on the back consolingly like, there, there. “It’s not bullshit. It was completely random. I offered to help, and he obviously didn’t want to get arrested, so he agreed. Then he left. I don’t even know his name.”

“He picked you,” Julie pointed out. “Clearly there was something there if he picked you to help him hide from the cops.”

“He didn’t pick me,” Alex said miserably. “I offered to help him. He probably would have just fled the scene if I hadn’t opened my big mouth.”

“Okay, let’s look at this reasonably,” said Bobby. As the only male member  of the band who possessed any brain cells for himself (he shared with Alex occasionally, but Julie still had most of them), he was probably the most qualified to be approaching the subject of reason. 

Alex exhaled slowly. “Yes, let’s.”

“Okay, so,” Bobby continued, “say I’m running from the cops. I need a place to hide, so I decide to duck behind something. But that won’t work, because they’ll just spot me when they walk past. I could ask someone for a jacket or a piece of clothing, as a disguise, but what would probably work best is asking someone to hide with me, to shield me from view or hide with me or provide an alibi. Right?”

Alex’s mind raced with images of the skateboarder stealing his baseball cap and putting it on his own head. “Right,” he echoed. 

“But here’s the thing,” Bobby said, leaning towards him and lowering his voice conspiratorially. Reggie, who had been trying to rest his head on Bobby’s shoulder once more, made a small noise of complaint. “We can stand very close and not kiss. We can make it look like we’re kissing, but not actually kiss. It’s all a ruse, you see, unless there are ulterior motives.”

Alex’s head felt like it was full of static. “What-” He shook his head. “What are you saying, exactly?”

“I’m saying, ” Bobby said, poking a single finger at Alex’s chest for emphasis, “that he didn’t have to kiss you. He chose to do that.”

“I told you,” Alex said, because clearly they were not understanding him, “ I kissed him first. ”

“But did he kiss you back?” Julie asked suddenly, and Alex blinked. 

“Well, yeah, but-”

Bobby gestured, like, there you have it. “See? Ulterior motives. He wanted to kiss you.”

“It was an act,” Alex tried, but it sounded weak even in his own ears. 

“ It was an act, ” Luke said, in an offensively high-pitched imitation of Alex’s voice. “God, Alex, you’re so smart, but you’re so stupid.”

Alex didn’t bother trying to defend himself against that one; if Julie wasn’t cutting in, it probably meant he was speaking the truth. 

“What do I do now?” he asked finally, after several seconds of silence where he avoided eye contact with every single other member  of his band. 

“Now?” Bobby asked. “Now you find him.”

“Find him and tell him you want to keep kissing him,” Reggie agreed with another solemn nod. 

“Find him and tell him you want to have his little skater babies,” Luke added, and Julie snorted loudly before she caught the dangerous look on Alex’s face and schooled her expression into something more neutral. 

“I will not, ” Alex snapped at Luke. “And it’s not that simple. I can't just… go find him. I have no idea where he went. I have no idea where he’s from, or where he works, or if he even wants to see me again. I don’t know how often he comes to this club, and I don’t…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I don’t even know if it’s reasonable  to try and find him when we’ve got, what, three more days here before we move on to the next city? This isn’t…” He let out a sigh, eyes fixed firmly on his hands. “It’s a nice thought, but I don’t think it’s going to work out.”

Julie seemed to consider this for all of ten seconds. Then she leaned forward, expression thoughtful. “Does he know you’re in a band?”

“What?” Alex asked. “How is that relevant?”

“Humor me for a second. Did you tell him you were part of the band playing at the club tonight?”

Alex wracked his brain. “I definitely told him I was in a band. I don’t know if he figured out I was in this band.”

Julie twisted, jabbing a finger at Luke. “Quick. If you were interested in someone who happened to be in a band, what would you do?”

He blinked at her, startled. “I’m dating you. ”

“I know you’re dating me,” Julie said impatiently. “We’re speaking hypothetically, Patterson. What would you do to find someone in a band again?”

Bobby spoke up. “Go to their concerts. Hope to catch them after the show.”

She snapped her fingers at him, triumphant. “ Exactly. So we can only assume that if this skater boy does want to find you again, he’ll make an effort. He’ll look up our touring schedule, figure out where we’re playing next. He’ll show up. If he’s too cowardly to approach you, he’ll at least be in the audience.”

“So, what, you want me to get over the microphone and ask if he’s there?” Alex asked, somewhat hysterically. “How would that work? Hey Mr. Very Hot Skater Boy, if you’re out there, I want to kiss you some more. Please report to the stage. ”

“Not exactly,” Julie said, and Alex didn’t like the look on her face; equal parts scheming and excited. “But I do have an idea on how to find him, let the guy know you’re interested.” She turned to Luke, eyes bright with mischief. “How do you feel about changing up the setlist?”

~

“This is, without a doubt, the stupidest idea we’ve ever had,” Alex said, because he felt like it needed to be spoken aloud. 

It was the next morning, and the band was onstage at their next venue, completing a run-through so they could get used to their sound on a new stage. Alex looked out over the empty seats and tried to imagine the boy from the alley actually buying a ticket and coming to see him play tonight. He shook his head; it was far from realistic. 

Luke shrugged, gave his guitar an experimental strum. “Maybe, dude. Or maybe it works out and you fall madly in love with the man of your dreams and you get married and have a hundred kids.”

“I don’t want a hundred kids,” Alex replied, “and that’s not… He probably won’t even show up. ”

“Maybe not!” Reggie called from across the stage, where he was adjusting the shoulder strap of his bass. “But maybe he will. We don’t know until we try.”

“Alright, one more time,” Julie said from her piano bench. Her hair and makeup were done, but she was wearing one of Luke’s hoodies, and it was enormous on her. She had to keep pushing the sleeves up so she could hit the piano keys, and Alex thought she looked like she was on her way to a very glamorous pajama party. “We’ll open with Now or Never. ”

“Then Bright,” Luke said with a nod. “Then we’ll continue our normal setlist until right after Basket Case… Bobby, are you still good to take point on Basket Case? ”

Bobby made finger guns at him. Julie was their lead singer, strictly speaking, and  shared the spotlight with Luke for most of their songs since their voices sounded as though they were made to go together, but there were a few notable exceptions. Bobby had done most of the songwriting on Basket Case; he also sounded the best singing it, and would therefore always lead it onstage. For the same reason, Reggie always led Candy, and Roses, on the rare occasions they played it live. Alex had helped write Bright, but he waved off Luke’s offer to lead it; he preferred singing backup from his stool, safely tucked behind his drums.

Which was part of the reason why this was such a terrible idea; he wasn’t prepared to lead a song by himself. Especially not this song. Especially not under these circumstances. 

“After Basket Case, that’s all you,” Luke said, pointing at Alex, his tone utterly casual, like the words didn’t send Alex’s heart cartwheeling. “Then we’ll pick back up with California afterwards.”

“What are we ending with?” Reggie asked. “ Stand Tall, or Great? ”

As one, they all turned to look at their lead singer. She cocked her head, considering. 

“ Great, I think,” she said. “We’ll play Stand Tall if they demand an encore.”

“ When they demand an encore,” Luke corrected her, and they beamed at each other until Bobby flicked a guitar pick at Luke’s head. 

“Focus,” he said. “Sound check now, googoo eyes later. Give my pick back.”

“We were not making googoo eyes-” Luke began, crouching to find Bobby’s pick somewhere on the stage, as Reggie commented, “I can’t believe Bobby just said the word googoo unironically.”

“I hate this family,” Alex announced, to no one in particular.

“No, you don’t,” Julie said, and he knew it was true. “Count us in, drummer boy.”

~

“Do you have a reason for breaking and entering before noon, or should I start expecting this as a regular occurrence?” Flynn asked, crossing her arms. 

Willie blinked. “I didn’t break in. You gave me a key.”

“ William. ” She was still in her pajamas, a toothbrush in hand, and she looked less than thrilled to see him. “What’s going on?”

“I- um. I had a question,” he said, his words coming out stilted and awkward. “About the band. Who played at the club last night.”

He didn’t like the knowing expression that crossed her face. It contained volumes, and he didn’t much feel like being interrogated about his reasoning. Or about why it had taken him so long to actually leave the club after sneaking out the back the night before. 

“Which one is it?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“What?” Willie tried desperately not to look guilty. 

“Which member is it?” she asked. “Why the sudden interest in a band that neither of us had ever heard of before now?”

Willie tried to keep his expression neutral, unassuming. “Their music really spoke to me.”

Flynn snorted loudly, and he knew that she wasn’t fooled for a second. “They’re called Julie and the Phantoms. If you search their name, their tour schedule should come up, but they’re only in town for two more days, so you’d better move fast.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Willie said, and she rolled her eyes. 

“Whatever you say, Wills,” she sighed. “Just don’t get hurt, alright?”

“I’m not going to get hurt,” Willie said. “Promise.”

He should have known better than to lie to Flynn; the crease between her eyebrows deepened, and now instead of merely skeptical, she looked concerned, too. 

Shit. He hated worrying Flynn. 

“Unless,” she said slowly, like she was figuring something out for herself, “you already did.”

“Already did what?”

“Already got yourself hurt.” Flynn stepped closer, and Willie resisted the urge to back up at the look on her face, like she was seeing straight through him, lies and all. “Where did you go last night? Because you sure as hell didn’t come straight home. You were still at the club when the cops left. ”

“Dammit, May,” Willie muttered, and Flynn snapped her fingers at him, looking triumphant. 

“You did stick around!” she cried. “Now, what were you doing?”

“I met one of the members of the band,” he started, and then paused, trying to find a delicate way to describe what had happened so as not to worry Flynn further while still being truthful. “In… the alley. We talked for a bit, and he. Uh. He helped me hide from the cops.”

Flynn just stared at him for a long moment, so long that he started to shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other, wondering if she was about to yell at him or hug him. He wasn’t sure, exactly, what he’d come here for, honestly. Reassurance? Advice? Comfort? A swift kick in the shins? He didn’t know anymore. 

Finally, Flynn laughed, and it was such a jarring sound that Willie couldn’t help himself; he jumped. 

“You are an idiot,” she marveled. “You are a colossal idiot. Carrie, come here.”

Someone appeared in the doorway of Flynn’s room, and Willie’s stomach dropped, because he hadn’t even considered…

“I didn’t know you had someone over,” he apologized. “I’ll text you next time I use your key, I swear, I just-”

“Hush,” Flynn said, flapping a hand at him. “Carrie, introduce yourself. I’m going to brush my teeth.”

She vanished into her bathroom, and the pretty blonde girl approached Willie, whose face, he could feel, was burning. 

“I’m really sorry,” he said. “Honest, I had no idea she had someone over, I didn’t mean to interrupt-”

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” the girl said, in a no-nonsense sort of tone. “I’m Carrie. It’s nice to meet you.”

She offered a hand, and Willie shook it, feeling ridiculous and far too formal all at once. “Nice to… meet you. I’m Willie.”

“I heard,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Did she tell you anything about me before I came out here?”

Willie shook his head. Her expression was making him nervous; amused, like she knew something he didn’t, and she couldn’t wait for him to figure it out. 

“That’s alright, I won’t take it personally,” she said, shrugging. “I’m the lead singer for Dirty Candi, which is the band touring with and opening for Julie and her Phantom boys.”

“You’re- what?” Willie croaked out. 

“I’m Carrie Wilson. I’m the lead singer of Dirty Candi,” she said again. “And you’re the skater boy.”

“I am?” he asked. He didn’t have his skateboard with him, or even his helmet. Maybe she’d seen him at the club, fleeing from the cops on his board, or maybe Flynn had told her. “What does that mean?”

“Julie’s drummer,” she began, and Willie felt the blood in his veins turn to ice, “told me a fascinating story about where he disappeared to last night after their show.”

“I don’t-” Willie started, and then cut himself off, because he wasn’t entirely sure what direction this conversation was going.

Carrie arched one perfect eyebrow at him. “Do you have any idea what this story might involve? Because according to his bandmates, he came back to the dressing room last night jumpy as hell and somehow convinced their tropical storm of a lead guitarist to change their setlist for tonight. He also texted me this morning to ask if I could help him hide three new hickeys before their show . Do you know, skater boy, why he might have done any of these things?”

Willie tried to speak and found his throat drier than dust. He snapped his mouth shut and shook his head instead. Changed their setlist? What impact could Willie have possibly had on the songs their band was playing?

Carrie narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t, do you? Interesting.” She turned back towards the bathroom. “Flynn, how much am I allowed to intervene, exactly?”

The bathroom door opened and Flynn emerged, her braids tied up in a loose bun on top of her head. “Depends. What’s up?”

“I don’t know, that’s the thing,” Carrie complained. “I can’t tell whether he’s just being difficult or he’s actually oblivious to the situation.”

Flynn cocked her head, looking for all the world as though she was sizing Willie up. “Interesting.”

“I am standing right here, ” Willie protested, unsure whether he should be offended or not. 

“Willie,” said Flynn carefully, “you are planning on going to see Julie and the Phantoms tonight, right?”

“I-” He blinked. “I was thinking about maybe… I was considering it.”

“Considering it,” she repeated. “Right.”

“See what I mean?” Carrie asked. “Oblivious, or difficult?”

Flynn squinted. “Maybe both? Do you think if he heard- ”

“I don’t know,” Carrie said, shaking her head sadly. “I just don’t know if that would be enough.”

Willie crossed his arms, suddenly feeling like the punchline of a joke he hadn’t been told. “Will one of you please tell me what’s going on, and stop being cryptic as hell? ”

“Where would the fun in that be?” Flynn asked. “You’re going to the concert for a reason, right?”

“Maybe I’m just curious,” Willie said evasively, and Flynn rolled her eyes. 

“Cut the shit,” she snapped, and looked back at Carrie. “It’s the drummer, right?” When Carrie nodded, she rounded back on Willie, eyes blazing. “This drummer obviously means something to you, enough that you would attend a concert for a band neither of us had ever heard of before now. You’re going to see him. The drummer.”

“Alex,” Carrie provided, and Flynn snapped her fingers at  her. 

“ Alex, ” she emphasized, “is the reason you’re going. Right?”

There was no point in denying it; both girls knew, to some extent, what had happened, and could probably see written all over his face how head-over-heels he already was. “Yes,” he sighed. “Yes, I’m going because I want to see Alex.”

Alex. It was a strong name, a solid name, and it felt right in his mouth. Or maybe he was just being ridiculous. 

“And you’re planning on seeing him after the show, right?” Flynn asked. 

“What kind of question– I don’t even know if he wants to see me,” Willie protested. 

“ William. ” 

“Alright, yes, fine, I was planning on trying to go backstage to see him,” Willie relented, avoiding eye contact with either girl.

“Thank God,” Carrie remarked, whipping out her phone. Her fingers flew over the screen, but he couldn’t begin to guess what she was doing. “That makes this easier.”

“That makes what easier?” Willie demanded. He still felt vaguely lost, like a puppet with all the strings tangled up. He wasn’t sure who, exactly, had been pulling the strings, but he felt significantly betrayed by Flynn’s apparent involvement in this. 

“I’m getting you front row tickets,” Carrie said, as if it was no big deal. “And a backstage pass, just in case security’s a bitch; you never know with these private venues. There are terms and conditions involved in this, of course.” She looked up from her phone, and her eyes pinned Willie, freezing him in place. “One of these conditions is that you aren’t allowed to wimp out. You actually have to talk to Alex tonight after the concert.”

“I don’t,” he began again, clearing his throat uselessly. His mouth was very dry. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“You’ve talked to him before,” Carried pointed out. “Enough to make out with him in a sketch ass alley, anyways.”

“Actually, there was very little talking involved in that,” Willie said quietly, and she snorted, then seemed to grow more serious.

“What do you want me to say?” Carrie asked. “Do you want me to tell you that he’s got it bad for you? That I’ve gotten more texts about you in the past twelve hours than I’ve ever received from him about any single person before? That I’ve known Alex since we were kids, and he doesn’t do shit like this for just anyone?”

Her tone was fierce, protective, and Willie could tell just how much she cared for Alex. How much she wanted what was best for him. It should have reassured him; instead, it just sent his stomach into knots. 

“I’m getting you the ticket,” she said, “and the pass. Alex asked to change the setlist for a reason; listen to it. And don’t, ” she jabbed a finger at his chest, “fuck this one up, skater boy.”

Willie had a sudden mental image of how many pieces they would find his body in if he crossed this woman. He nodded, and his agreement was only partially born of fear. 

“It will be great,” Flynn said cheerfully, and she sounded like she believed it wholeheartedly. 

It will? Willie wanted to ask, but he didn’t want Flynn or her terrifying new friend to kick his ass. Instead, he just nodded, head already swimming with what the hell he was going to say to the drummer ( Alex , he thought) when he saw him next. 

~

The venue was packed. 

Distantly, in the back of his mind, Willie recalled reading that Julie and the Phantoms was one of the biggest (if not the biggest) up-and-coming band; their tour had been almost unbelievable in its success so far. Critics were raving, fans were ecstatic. Part of Willie couldn’t believe he’d never heard of the band before making out with their drummer in a dirty alley.

Mostly, he just couldn’t believe that he’d managed to score (through the grace of Carrie alone) front row tickets to the concert. He had an excellent view of the stage, of the clouds of dust that swirled up each time the bassist jumped off the drumset and landed hard on his feet, the quick grins the band kept shooting each other, the frizzy flyaways framing the lead singer’s face, making her look like an angel with a dark halo. Alex was, of course, dominating behind the drums, sitting tall on his stool like a king on his throne and looking utterly in his element; he’d certainly been doing this long enough. 

And yes, alright, maybe he’d done a little bit more research after Flynn had told him the band’s name that morning.

(Maybe he’d done more than a little research). 

Whatever the case, he now knew that Alex’s full name was Alexander Mercer. He’d been playing with Julie’s band for as long as they’d been a band, and before that, there had been another band with unprecedented success that had ended abruptly, for reasons unknown. 

Willie had dug deep enough to learn that Alex had a terrible online presence, that he loved his band like family, that he hadn’t gone to college, that he was openly gay. The only social media he seemed to have was an Instagram account, and there were three pictures on it; they were all of his bandmates, all terribly out of focus, and all captioned like someone who’d just learned to use the internet. Willie, personally, thought it was charming that everything he’d found on Alex so far had lined up not with the smooth-talking, experienced kisser and small time criminal, but with the drummer who spun his sticks as a nervous habit and flinched away from May and tried to hide in his hoodie. 

He figured he was going about this backwards; usually people became fans of a band member, then stalked their social media, then met them in person, if they were lucky. Usually things didn’t start with a random and slightly illegal makeout session behind a club. 

And yet somehow here he was, in the front row of a fairly sizable venue, bumping elbows and shoulders with the people nearest him, watching as Julie and the Phantoms played their set and absolutely captivated their audience. 

Because they were seriously talented. The lead singer Julie  had a high, powerful voice that seemed to take up all available space in the venue and strain at the doors and windows, and during one song she held out a note for so long that Willie felt lightheaded. Her partner Luke, who as far as Willie could tell didn’t use his own microphone once, backed her up and swapped verses with her and looked at her with the most awed expression on his face; the chemistry was so taut in the air that Willie could feel it all the way from the floor. The bassist and second guitarist were electric, moving all over the stage and sharing the microphone with each other and bouncing around, filling the air with something vibrant and alive and hard to pin down.

And Alex… Alex was on fire. He was a constant, steady presence upstage, keeping the beat and sparing grins over his kit to his bandmates. He sang backup and shared verses with the others, and even though he wasn’t jumping around onstage, there was still something about his energy that made Willie fixate on him, unwilling or unable to look anywhere else. 

He was, unfortunately, just as hot under the flashing, pulsing spotlights. He’d shed his pink hoodie sometime after the second song to reveal a pale blue shirt that hugged his shoulders in all the right places and showed off his arms. Arms that had so easily pressed Willie against that brick wall, and Willie felt his mouth go dry, because upon reevaluation, he might’ve had a thing for Alex’s arms. He might’ve had a thing for Alex’s everything.

Willie remembered what it had been like to kiss him. He wondered if the marks he’d left on Alex’s neck had faded yet; he couldn’t see them, but something in his chest clenched at the thought of Alex having a physical reminder of what they’d done. 

He needed to get a grip, he thought, as someone’s elbow caught him in the arm for what must have been the hundredth time tonight. The situation was getting out of hand; he was definitely in over his head. 

One makeout session, he thought to himself, does not a structured romance make. 

He took a deep breath as the second guitarist stepped up to the microphone and introduced a song of his own creation, which got a roar of support and approval from the crowd. They began to play a song that, as far as Willie could tell, was a thinly-veiled cry for help wrapped in a bouncy tune, the sort of shit he would’ve gone wild for at fourteen, and Willie tried to relax, enjoy the music. 

He wondered what changes Alex had made to the setlist; it wasn’t as if Willie had been familiar with their songs before, but Carrie had made it seem like it would be obvious. Listen to the song, she’d said.

And so Willie waited, determined not to miss… whatever it was that Flynn and Carrie were hellbent on him not missing. 

~

Looking for someone in a concert venue while you were performing on the stage of said venue was a fruitless and frustrating effort, but that didn’t stop Alex from trying. 

He tried to tamp down the fluttering feeling in his chest that felt suspiciously like hope, telling himself that even if the boy from the alley had been curious enough to research the band’s touring schedule, there was no guarantee he would actually show up. Even if he did somehow acquire a ticket and show up, there was no guarantee he would make any attempt to contact Alex afterwards. Maybe he was just curious, nothing more. 

This was a very logical line of thought that unfortunately did nothing to curb the nerves in Alex’s stomach at the thought of the skateboarder potentially being in the audience right now, watching him. There was no way to know for certain; the stage lights were blinding, and Alex could only truly make out a few faces in the first few rows. Even if he could see the entire venue, there were hundreds of people here. There was no way he would find one person among the crowd. 

They were playing well tonight; the audience was eating out of the palm of Julie’s hand, and she and Luke were ablaze together. Reggie’s vocals during Roses brought down the house, and when Bobby stepped up to introduce Basket Case, he got such loud cheers that he had to step away from the microphone, smiling uncharacteristically wide, until the crowd settled down. 

Basket Case was always a blast to play, and tonight was no exception; Bobby and Reggie bounced off each other effortlessly, switching lines and harmonizing in ways Alex wasn’t even sure they’d rehearsed. Some sort of telepathy they secretly shared, he assumed, or something equally horrendous and corny. Whatever the case, they sounded incredible, and the crowd cheered for three straight minutes when the song ended. 

And then the lights were coming up on his drum set, and Alex realized, slightly panicked, that it was time for him to introduce this crazy idea that Julie had come up with, that Luke had approved, that Reggie and Bobby had both backed. 

He squashed down the tiny voice in his head that screamed what am I doing, holy shit and pulled his microphone closer to his mouth. Waited for the crowd to quiet down. 

Here goes nothing. 

“We’re going to be switching it up a little, if that’s alright,” he called, and the crowd roared. “So this song,” and the cheering was still too loud, so he had to wait for them to settle. God, he loved live performances. “This song, believe it or not, was my idea.”

Laughter from the audience; they must have noticed that he hadn’t led any songs or even spoken directly into the mic until this point. “It isn’t ours,” he continued, “but most of you will recognize it, and I think it’s relevant to something happening in my life right now.” He inhaled slowly, trying to keep a smile on his face when his stomach felt like it was turning itself inside out. “It’s specific. It’s very specific. Just hang with me, alright? You guys think you can do that?”

More cheers from the crowd. Alex took another breath, raising his drumsticks and giving one of them a twirl. Now or never. 

“How do you guys feel about Avril Lavigne?”

~

Willie couldn’t move. 

Every molecule in his body was frozen, rooting him to the spot at Alex’s words, the intention behind his statement, the song Julie and her Phantoms were currently playing. Even tas the crowd around him reacted, cheering and shrieking lyrics and dancing to the beat, jostling him further, he remained stiller than he’d ever been in his entire life. 

It’s very specific, Alex had emphasized, and then he’d counted his band in to play Sk8er Boi. 

Alex asked to change the setlist for a reason. Listen to it, Carrie’s voice snapped in his head, but he didn’t need her reminder. He didn’t even need to listen to the lyrics. He knew this song. 

Skater boy. It hadn’t been a mistake, then, that Carrie had identified him as such that morning. Alex had asked his band to change the setlist so he could sing a song about a skater boy.

Willie still couldn't make his limbs move. He felt rooted to the spot, completely unshakable and utterly shaken all at once. His mind raced.

Part of him, the part that was still functioning, noted that Alex had a very nice voice, and it was completely unfair that not only did he look like that and kiss like nobody’s business, but he could sing, too. 

Logically, he had known Alex must have had some musical talent, to be in a band as big as Julie and the Phantoms, and he’d been singing backup for most of the concert so far, but it hadn’t been enough for Willie to gauge what his voice truly sounded like. 

And… shit. 

He was incredible. His voice wasn’t powerful like the lead singer’s, or gravelly and hypnotic like the second guitarist’s, but something else entirely, clear and strong and amazing. Distantly, as if he wasn’t fully in control of his own face, Willie could feel his mouth fall open, because this was just unfair. 

He tried to form a coherent thought around the sound of Alex singing a song about him, tried to think rationally about what this could mean. He and Alex had met by pure chance, Willie had needed a charade to avoid getting arrested, and they’d kissed in a club alley. 

More than kissed, Willie reminded himself, feeling his stomach swoop slightly as he remembered little details that he hadn’t quite been able to drive from his mind; the feeling of Alex’s hair under his nails, the burning heat of Alex’s hand on his hip, the helpless noise Alex made when Willie bit his neck. 

Focus. Willie shook his head. After they’d kissed, after Alex had waved off Willie’s thanks and told him he would do it again in a heartbeat ( and seriously, what was that all about?) , Alex had gone back inside to his band. There, he had… told them what happened? Asked them to change their setlist immediately? Laughed about the experience he’d just had, like something straight out of a bad dimestore romance novel?

Willie still felt like he was missing something. If this was all one big joke, why had Carrie been so insistent on Willie going to see the band, listening to Alex’s song that he had apparently fought to put on their concert roster for tonight? Why had she been so convinced that Alex wanted to see him? Were she and Flynn plotting against him, somehow?

Unless. 

It wasn’t a joke?

Willie could feel his pulse beginning to race as he considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he’d been looking at this entire situation all wrong. Alex had kissed Willie when the situation had called for it, then went a step further in the name of being convincing. Alex had asked his bandmates to change their set so he could sing a very specific song. 

Alex had sung him a song. Alex was currently singing him a song. 

“Shit,” Willie breathed. 

~

“I still stand by my previous statement that that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” Alex announced to the rest of the green room. 

It was later; the concert had ended after not one but two demanded encores from the audience. Alex had played the rest of the show nearly perfectly, coming in at all the right times and never missing his beat, but after Sk8er Boi, he was aching to leave the stage, entire body thrumming with pent-up anxiety or excitement or a tangled combination of both. By the time they wrapped it up, bowing to an audience that felt pent up with enough energy to blow the roof off the venue, the knot in his stomach had intensified into something sharp and painful, and he felt once more like he might throw up. 

Two of the members of their opening band were seated at their dressing tables, taking off the last traces of their stage makeup, and the other three were already in their street clothes, talking quietly by the door. Their band was called Dirty Candi, and they’d been travelling with the Phantoms for their entire tour now; Alex had been friends with Carrie since they were kids, and was glad she’d gotten over whatever shit she’d once had with Julie so he didn’t have to pretend he hated her during the tour. 

He knew Dirty Candi usually got cheese fries together after their set, but for whatever reason, Carrie was taking her time, wiping off her makeup with slow, methodical swipes even though most of her girls were clearly waiting on her by the door, and she was avoiding eye contact with him in the mirror. 

Alex, for his part, had fallen into a chair as soon as they entered the green room, feeling shaky, feeling restless, feeling like he could conquer an army. Maybe this was what Luke had been talking about, when he spouted all that bullshit about feeling alive onstage. Alex could feed off a crowd well enough, but this… this was something else entirely. 

Beside him, Carrie’s eyes darted to meet his in the dressing table mirror, then shot away just as fast. She’d been acting odd since their first sound check that day, overly enthusiastic in a way that he’d never seen her before, interrogating him about his skater boy and their jaunt the night before, but he didn’t have the energy to question her about it right now.

“It was cute, ” Julie corrected, and by the door, Kayla nodded in agreement. 

“Honestly, Alex, I didn’t think you were going to do it,” she said. 

“But you did, and it was wonderful, ” Julie sighed. 

Reggie flopped down onto the couch after offering Alex a fist bump. “Rad, dude,” he managed tiredly, and then Bobby seated himself beside him on the couch and Reggie reached for him feebly. 

Alex rolled his eyes. “Super rad, dude,” he said back, only half as viciously as he normally would, because teasing a sleepy Reggie was like teasing  a puppy. 

“I knew you could do it,” Luke said, but he sounded more proud than aggravated. “You’ve had it inside you all along, man. I’m going to start making you do more solos.”

“No, don’t,” Alex said. “Seriously.”

Luke laughed in response, which did nothing for Alex’s nerves. He was going to look at the setlist for the next tour and see his name on the sheet eight times in a row, he could feel it. 

Carrie zipped up her makeup bag and turned to face him, then. “You,” she said, and Alex jumped both at the look on her face and the intensity in her voice, “sounded incredible. Immaculate. You showed them all. Made them say wow. Loved every second of it.”

“I love Wilson sibling post-show rundowns,” Luke said. “Bobby, what have you got?”

Bobby blinked and then frowned, looking thoroughly exhausted. “Luke, you… sang. Real good.”

“There was some guitar, too,” Reggie offered, his eyes already slipping closed. 

“Oh yes, the guitar was also real good,” Bobby agreed. 

Luke considered this for a second, then shrugged. “I’ll take it.”

Carrie was apparently not done. “Alex, you were amazing. Seriously. Why don’t you have more solos?” She turned to Luke. “Why doesn’t he have more solos?”

“Because he doesn’t want more solos,” Alex cut in, before Luke got the chance, because he was pretty sure Luke and Carrie’s combined sheer force of will would kill them all. “And he’s sitting right here. ”

Carrie shrugged. “Whatever. It was incredible, is what I’m saying.”

“It was desperate, ” Alex shot back. 

“It was harmless,” Bobby said tiredly, waving a hand at both of them. “Doesn’t change anything if it didn’t work. Still sounded great.”

“And if it did work…” Julie said, trailing off and letting Alex fill in the blanks himself. 

“But it didn’t , ” Alex replied. “He didn’t show up. We didn’t talk. He might not have even come. ”

“What if he did? ” Julie pressed. 

“Okay, let’s say he did,” Alex said. He waved his hands frustratedly, indicating both the green room full of people trying to hype him up and his own exhaustion and the entire situation all at once. “Where is he now, then? If he was so enamored with me that he’d come to the concert, why hasn’t he come back here to confess his undying love for me?”

His voice came out bitter, razor-sharp. It wasn’t fair to Julie, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help himself; he was frustrated, and hurt. This probably should have been some indication of his own feelings, and how quickly they had developed, and how strong they were, but he wasn’t much in the mood for revelations right now. He’d gotten his hopes up for nothing, and now he was hurting because of it. 

Julie opened her mouth, then closed it. She shook her head, and the look on her face was equal parts pitying and upset, which infuriated Alex even more. He didn’t need pity. He needed his friends to stop encouraging his stupid feelings. 

“I’m going to get some air,” he said finally, and he watched his bandmates exchange looks with each other. Carrie looked as if she wanted to say something, but she remained silent, and he saw Luke and Julie make faces at each other, like, your turn. He didn’t much care for being psychoanalyzed, either. 

Alex stood with more force than was strictly necessary and stalked towards the door; he knew he was being dramatic, and he would probably need to come back and apologize once he’d calmed down, but for now, he was tired, and pissed off, and something bordering on heartbroken. 

Well. Heartbroken was a strong word. It wasn’t as if he’d been expecting a happily ever after with the stranger from the alley, but he’d been… hopeful. 

Stupid, he chided himself, and flung the door to the green room open. 

He hadn’t been expecting there to be someone on the other side of the door, and almost barreled straight into them. They had a hand raised as if they’d been about to knock, but when Alex threw open the door, they backed up a step, startled. 

It was a girl, with dark brown skin and braids tucked under a pink beanie, and the look on her face was appropriately alarmed at Alex’s no doubt terrifying expression. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, and backed up to let her inside. “I was just- I’m sorry.”

“I’m looking for… Carrie?” she asked, and in the green room, Carrie rose from her dressing table, a smile spreading over her face. 

“Hey,” she said. “I’m ready now, we can leave.”

One of the Candis huffed out something that sounded like, Finally, and the entire band moved towards the door. 

“Carrie,” said Alex carefully, “who is this?”

“This is Flynn,” Carrie said, just as carefully, “and she’s joining us for cheese fries. Flynn, are you… alone?”

There was something there, an unspoken hint in her words that Alex was once again missing. He was tired of people keeping secrets from him. Was it too much to ask for one singular straight answer?

“No,” said Flynn. “No, my ride is waiting in the lobby.”

“Alex,” said Carrie, maintaining eye contact with Flynn, “I need you to refill my water bottle.”

One of the Candis let out a groan. “We’re never getting out of here, are we?”

Carrie shot her a dangerous look, then turned back to Alex. “Please.”

Alex looked at her, bewildered. “I’m sorry?”

“I need you,” she said slowly, as if he was perhaps a bit slow on the uptake, “to refill my water bottle.”

“I heard you the first time,” he said. “Can’t you fill it up yourself? You’ll walk right past the fountain on your way out.”

“No, I need you to do it,” she pressed, and Alex blinked, utterly baffled at this sudden and seemingly random request. “You wanted air, didn’t you? Go get air and make yourself useful.”

“I- I guess I can, ” he offered. 

On the couch, Julie said, “Oh! You worked at the club last night, didn’t you?”

Flynn beamed, coming further into the green room. “I did! And you’re Julie, right? Your dress last night was gorgeous. The sleeves?” She made an appreciative noise, clasping a hand to her chest. 

Julie stood as Flynn came around the couch, bouncing slightly on her toes. “Okay, want to know a secret? It was my mom’s old dress, actually. I had it altered.”

“Shut up,” Flynn cried. “Shut up, that’s so vintage and iconic of you.”

Luke, who had been watching this exchange with a slightly baffled expression on his face, head swiveling back and forth like he was watching a tennis match, made eye contact with Alex and mouthed, Help?

Alex shook his head; he had no help to give him. Getting between what looked like the beginning of a beautiful budding friendship sounded dangerous. 

He felt something cool and hard being pressed into his hand, which was hanging limp at his side, and he looked down to see Carrie had handed him her water bottle. Upon meeting her eyes, he found that he still couldn’t read her expression,  beyond sensing that there was something urgent brewing under the surface. 

“Please,” she said. 

He rolled his eyes, but accepted the water bottle. “This is the part where you owe me for the rest of the week. You know that, right?”

Carrie waved a dismissive hand. “The fountain in the lobby has the coldest water.”

“I love you, too,” he muttered, and left the green room, wondering when his friends were going to stop keeping shit from him. 

~

Willie hadn’t known Flynn was even at the concert until she’d texted him. 

He’d been pacing back and forth in the lobby of the venue, trying to decide whether or not he was seriously going to venture backstage to try and find the band (to try and find Alex ) when Flynn texted him: hey if ur still at the concert can i have a ride home?

His fingers hovered over the keys, briefly puzzled, before he texted: where are you?

Her response came almost immediately. dressing room. w the band. 

Willie’s heart rate spiked as he realized that Flynn was, at this very moment, in the same room as Alex, the very same person who had kissed Willie in the alley. The very same person who Willie had attended this concert for. The very same person who Willie was currently trying to decide whether he should go visit or not. 

A second text from Flynn came in not even a minute later: come on dude. dont wimp out. 

Willie stuffed his phone into his pocket, offended, and completed another round of pacing in the lobby, which was empty save for the last few stragglers from the concert and one exhausted-looking security guard. 

Another text, and he had to fish his phone back out to read it: seriously bro carrie had a condition w those tickets. she says dont wimp out either. 

Oh, excellent. Carrie was there, too. 

Willie grit his teeth. He was tired of feeling ganged up on, and he had half a mind to march to the dressing room for the sole purpose of telling Flynn and Carrie so. 

you want this, Flynn’s next text read. he wants to talk to you too. 

The problem was, Willie did want this. He did want to go see Alex, to formally introduce himself and tell him what a rockstar he thought Alex truly was and hopefully get some sort of contact information, a phone number, something . 

And yes, he wanted to kiss Alex some more, too.

Something else was tugging at the back of his mind, too; he was on a deadline. In two days, Julie and the Phantoms would move on to the next city of their tour, and Willie would lose whatever chance he had to reconnect with Alex.

“Fuck it,” he decided out loud, making the security guard cast him a warning look from across the lobby. He didn’t much care; he spun on his heel and marched towards the backstage area, trying to look purposeful, like he knew what he was doing. 

And trying, with each step that took him closer and closer to Alex, not to regret it. 

~

Alex was going to have choice words with Carrie later.

Not only did she suddenly and randomly send him on a fruitless quest to refill her water bottle, but she’d sent him all the way to the lobby, which was down two flights of stairs and on the other side of the venue. Alex was already fucking wiped from playing an entire set and two encores, not to mention the emotional stress he was under. He didn’t need to be physically exerting himself on top of all that. 

The venue was eerily quiet, with only a few employees starting the long and arduous task of cleaning the concert floors, and every sudden noise as Alex rounded the corridors made him jump. He thought, secretly, after nearly shrieking out loud when he rounded a corner too fast and nearly barrelled into a custodian’s cart, that if he died in this maze of a venue, he was sticking around and haunting the place as a ghost for the rest of time. 

Then, in a stroke of terrible luck that seemed to be following him around lately, he turned another corner too fast and did slam into someone, effectively knocking both of them to the ground. Carrie’s obnoxious metal water bottle clattered to the floor, emitting a clang that echoed off the walls and probably scared away any ghosts that were already haunting the place, and Alex fell hard on his ass.

“I’m so, so sorry, man,” the other person was saying, and Alex blinked hard, trying to focus around the pain in his hands, which he’d thrown backwards in an attempt to catch himself. His wrist ached, and he dimly thought that playing the drums would be much harder with a sprain. He just thanked his lucky stars, few though they may be, that he hadn’t had his drumsticks in his back pocket; they would have snapped for sure. 

“It’s not a problem, seriously,” Alex reassured the stranger, “honest, I wasn’t looking where I was going-” and then he stuttered to a halt as he finally got a good look at who, exactly, he’d sent sprawling to the floor. “Oh, my God.”

“Oh, my God,” the guy echoed, looking back at Alex with the same bewildered expression he’d worn in the alley when Alex had questioned him about what he needed, right before he’d sprung a surprise kiss on him. “It’s you.”

“It’s me,” Alex agreed, and there was a long moment where he just stared, because seriously, the guy was even hotter in the light, if that was possible. The dim light of the alley had cheated Alex out of the details of his dark eyes, the slant of his cheekbones, the hoop in one ear that glinted slightly as he tilted his head to look at Alex, the bewildered expression giving way to something softer, sweeter. 

“I, uh,” the skater boy said, and now there was red darkening his cheeks. “I was coming to find you.”

“You were?” Alex asked, because he hadn’t been doing anything quite so intentional. For goodness’ sake, he’d just been going to fill up a stupid water bottle that didn’t even belong to him. “Were you… I mean, did you hear…”

“I heard the song,” the skater boy said, and now he was grinning. “I loved it. Your voice…” He shook his head. “You’re incredible.”

His bandmates had been hyping him up since they left the stage, but for some reason, it was different to hear it from him. Alex could feel himself turning red, and desperately tried to wave it off. 

“I’m alright,” he said. “There’s a reason I don’t lead songs, most of the time. It was- well. You know it was for you, don’t you?”

The skater boy beamed, and Alex may have been biased, but the hallway seemed to get several degrees brighter. “I figured, yes,” he said with a laugh. “It’s a classic, isn’t it? Sk8er Boi? ”

“Definitely,” Alex said, feeling like there were hundreds of tiny bubbles trapped in his chest. He realized, somewhat distantly though his elation, that he was still sitting on the ground, and started to climb to his feet.  “I never caught your name, you know.” He extended a hand to help the skater boy up.

The skater boy threw back his head and laughed, and Alex wanted to bottle the sound. “I’m Willie,” he said, accepting Alex’s hand and hauling himself to his feet. “And you’re Alex. The drummer for Julie and the Phantoms, LA native, seriously talented singer, and apparently small-time criminal, too.”

“The internet?” Alex guessed, because while his online presence might have been nothing short of pathetic, he knew about his band’s success, the way their social media pages kept gaining more and more followers the bigger they got and the more stops they made on their tour. Lord only knew how much shit about his private life was out there on the world wide web for anyone to see. 

Willie shrugged. “Some of it. I guessed the other stuff.”

Alex laughed gently, and then there was a suspended moment in time that could have been seconds or minutes or hours where they both just stood there, grinning and looking into each other’s eyes. Alex was on cloud nine. He felt like he could fly in that moment, if pressed to. 

“I had help, too,” Willie added finally. “My best friend is apparently seeing the… lead singer of your opening band?”

“Carrie,” Alex sighed. He’d known, of course, that Carrie and by default anyone associated with Carrie was not above meddling in his love life, but he hadn’t known just how close to the whole situation she was. 

“Carrie and Flynn,” Willie agreed. “What a pair the two of them make.”

“You-” Alex laughed, then, still in slight disbelief. “You came here tonight to find me. You looked up my band’s schedule so you could run into me?”

“Something like that,” Willie said, with a brilliant smile bordering on bashful. “And you changed your band’s setlist for me.”

“Something like that,” Alex whispered. Was it his imagination, or had Willie gotten closer? He seemed to recall them being further apart not ten seconds ago, but he couldn’t say he minded. Not when Willie’s dark brown eyes were alight with humor and something softer and his smile was making his cheekbones even more defined, if that was possible. Not when the stark fluorescent lights from the venue hallway were catching in his hair and his gold earring and the rings stacked on his fingers when he went to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. 

“I wanted to ask your name,” Willie said, and his voice had definitely gotten lower, “before. In the alley. I wanted to get your name, your number, the band you played in. But…” He shook his head. “I think I was too scared.”

“I know the feeling,” Alex replied, determined not to break eye contact with this beautiful, impossible boy in front of him. “But I think I was at a significant disadvantage.”

Willie made a questioning noise. “How so?”

“You looked me up,” Alex pointed out. “My band, my social media, my name. I didn’t have anything to distinguish you, except for the fact that you own a skateboard. And you’re a very good kisser.”

“Don’t forget about the criminal part,” Willie said, but his cheeks were continuing to darken. 

Alex rolled his eyes. “Oh, of course, how could I forget that you were also running from the cops when we met? I guess they didn’t get you, did they?”

“Well, you see,” Willie said coyly, “I had help hiding from them.”

Then, in a movement almost too quick for Alex to track, his eyes, which Alex had been watching intently, determined not to break contact first, flicked down to Alex’s mouth and then back up. 

“I would really like to kiss you again, Alex,” he said, in a voice so quiet Alex could feel himself leaning in, impossibly closer. He couldn’t help himself; he looked down at Willie’s lips, too, in what was almost an unconscious action. They looked plenty kissable. Perhaps even more kissable, in the light, now that Willie was expecting it. 

“I-” Alex began, and his voice cracked alarmingly. He cleared his throat. “I would really like that, too.”

“So this is okay?” Willie said, and leaned in. Alex thought he was going to kiss him, finally kiss him, but instead he just stayed there, a hair’s breadth from Alex. He was waiting, Alex realized, for him. 

“Yes,” he breathed, “yes, yes, of course it’s okay.”

“I’m going to get your phone number after this,” Willie murmured, almost too softly to be perceptible. 

“Sounds good,” Alex said, nodding. 

“We’re going to have a conversation after this,” Willie added.

“Can’t wait.” 

“I’m serious,” Willie said, and laughed. “We’re going to actually have to-”

Alex couldn’t help what he did next. In a move of utter impatience, he put one hand on Willie’s chest and one behind his head to protect it and pushed, not hard, just enough, so that Willie’s back hit the wall of the corridor with an audible sound as Alex followed, pushing his full weight into him . Willie made a noise, too, a slight squeak, his mouth hanging open. For a second, Alex thought he had gone too far, but then the shock melted away into something much more pleased, and Willie grinned at him. 

“We can do,” Alex whispered fiercely, right in Willie’s ear, and he felt Willie shudder beneath him, “ whatever you want after this. We can talk, we can exchange numbers, you can meet my family, whatever. But right now, I need you to shut up and kiss me, because I’ve seriously been thinking about it for an entire day now . Got it?”

“Loud and clear,” Willie whispered, and that was the last thing he said before he finally, finally, leaned in all the way and kissed Alex. 

And if Alex thought he could’ve flown before , that was nothing compared to how he felt now. Willie was just as good a kisser as he remembered, slow and sure, his mouth hot like it was going to set Alex on fire from the inside out. He wrapped his arms around Alex’s neck and pulled him closer, and Alex felt like the surface of his skin was about to ignite. He remembered the alley, how frantic they’d been, the underlying fear that they would be caught and arrested, but there was none of that urgency here. Alex took his time now, exploring Willie’s mouth in careful, methodical movements, cataloguing every noise he made and seeing if he could get him to make it again. 

When Alex finally pulled away for air, he used his teeth and tugged slightly on Willie’s bottom lip, and Willie, eyes still squeezed shut, sighed happily. Alex wanted to kiss every inch of his face. 

Willie’s eyes opened and he smiled, huge and genuine, at Alex. Alex smiled back, feeling like his cheeks would split from how wide it was. 

“Hey,” Willie whispered. 

“Hey, yourself,” Alex whispered back. 

“This is much nicer accommodations than squished behind a dumpster,” Willie noted, eyes flicking around to take in the hallway of the venue, and Alex snorted. 

In his pocket, Alex felt his phone buzz, and groaned. “Hang on,” he said, and detached one of his hands from Willie’s shirt to fish his phone out, where he found not one but six missed texts from the past several minutes. Laughing, he turned his phone around to show Willie. 

[care] where is my water 

[care] i send you on ONE mission. answer me.

[care] alex?????????????

[care] did you die

[care] alexander mercer answer me

[care] nvm. have fun. don’t do anything i wouldn’t do. 

“She knows,” Willie guessed, and Alex nodded. 

“Damn meddling friends,” he muttered, with no actual heat behind his words, because now he understood just how much Carrie had been involved from the beginning, and her friend Flynn, too. 

“I guess…” Willie trailed off, considering. “I mean, if they know we found each other, that means we won’t be expected back at the dressing room for at least the next few minutes, right?”

Alex considered this. “You know, I think you’re right.”

Willie shrugged, his expression innocent. “It certainly would be a shame to waste any time we’re given before we have to report back to our friends.”

“I like the way you think,” Alex replied, and leaned back in, slipping his phone into his pocket as it buzzed one more time. 

[joooooooolie] say hi to the skater boy from us. xoxo. 

~