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‘Where’s Jordan?’ Derek asks. The stage manager looks around for their lead singer, who is nowhere in sight.
Lydia shrugs, she hasn’t seen her boyfriend since they got chewed out by their PR guy, Harris, again. They’d been photographed by the paparazzi when they’d gone to get a cup of coffee. They’d unconsciously grabbed each other’s hands, and looked very much like a couple. Which they’re not supposed to. Harris had given them the whole list of things the two of them are not allowed to do: to be seen in public together, to kiss or hold hands outside the tour bus or their hotel room. They’re supposed to pretend that they’re both single for the fans, for the sales. Lydia could understand it when they’d just gotten started. Hot single people sell better than hot people in a relationship. But it’s been a several years now, and judging by all the speculation on social media and the borderline stalker websites, the fans have already guessed that they’re together.
‘I’m here,’ Jordan says, running from the direction of the dressing rooms. He plants a quick kiss on Lydia’s cheek, and then looks apologetically at Derek. ‘Sorry.’
‘Come on,’ Stiles says, tapping his drumsticks together in excitement. ‘We have a show to play.’
Derek holds up his hand, telling them to wait. They all love performing, and it wouldn’t be the first time they all ran on stage, eager to start playing, before everything was ready, leaving the technical crew scrambling to catch up. Finally Derek nods and lowers his hand. Allison and Scott run up the little steps, with Stiles is right behind them.
Lydia pulls Jordan back so they’re last. He looks tense and nervous. It’s not his normal pre-show jitters. Those make him smile, and hum their songs under his breath. Instead, he’s frowning and one of his hands is nervously tapping at his hip.
‘Are you okay?’ she asks in a whisper.
‘I’m okay. Just- Harris,’ Jordan sighs.
Lydia squeezes his hand. She gets it. The guy’s a dick. But Finstock is already looking for someone else to take over his job after this tour.
‘Come on, you two,’ Derek says, nudging them forward.
Lydia jogs onto the stage. Grabbing her bass, she pastes a smile on her lips and waves at the cheering crowd.
~
They play a good set. They always do. Despite how different every single member of their band is, they form an amazing team. Jordan relaxed after a couple songs, and Lydia had been able to let go of some of her worry. The music had gotten rid of any worry that was left, and by the time they say goodnight to the crowd everything feels back to normal.
It’s when she’s walking off the stage, one hand on Allison’s arm and the pumps she’d kicked off halfway through the set in the other, that Lydia realizes that things are definitely not normal.
Jordan is still standing by his mic and clearing his throat, drawing Lydia’s attention.
Usually, once they’re done playing, all the lights go on, making it easy for everyone to leave, but most of the lights in the room are still off, except for a couple spotlights that are focussed on Jordan.
‘Hey, everyone,’ he says. ‘Uhm, just so you know, our PR guy is probably going to kill me for doing this. So if I get dragged off the stage by a furious looking guy with glasses, that would be Harris.’
‘Don’t worry!’ Stiles yells. ‘We got you, buddy!’
‘This is something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time now,’ Jordan continues, after a nervous chuckle at Stiles’ comment. ‘And after what happened this weekend, I’m just going to do it. Because there is nobody more important to me than this woman. So this is for you, Lydia.’
The crowd goes crazy for a minute. Lydia feels her heart stop and her legs begin to shake. The shoes she’s holding slip out of her hands, and clatter to the floor. There’s a good chance there will be scuff marks and scratches on them now, making them unwearable, but she doesn’t care.
When the crowd finally falls silent, the first couple notes of the song fill the room. It’s sweet, almost like a lullaby. Lydia’s breath gets stuck in her throat, tears spring into her eyes.
‘She, she’s a mystery. She’s a magic woman, a puzzle to me. How she makes me fly, ‘cause I’m happy you see.’
There is no sound besides Jordan’s guitar and his voice. Even the backstage crew is completely silent.
‘Who would not fall in love with that look in her eyes or that smile. She's an angel.’
The first happy tear makes its way down Lydia’s cheek. She scrubs at it and looks around her. Allison, Stiles, Derek and Scott are all grinning at her, the assholes. They probably knew. She’s enveloped into a brief group hug before she’s pushed back onto the stage.
‘Who would not feel the bliss after one single kiss from her lips. She’s an angel.’ Jordan spots her at the edge of the stage and turns towards her with a soft happy smile. The smile that he gives her whenever he sees her across the room, and no matter how many people surround them, for a moment it feels like it’s just them.
‘She, she’s a symphony. An enchanting rhapsody, written only for me. And she makes me cry, ‘cause I’m happy you see.’
Lydia’s cheeks are starting to hurt. She not sure if it’s from rubbing away the now freely flowing tears or from smiling so wide.
‘Who would not fall in love with that look in her eyes or that smile. She's an angel. Who would not feel the bliss after one single kiss from her lips. She's an angel.’
Lydia moves a little closer to her boyfriend, pulled in by the happiness in his bright green eyes.
‘Only covered eyes could ignore her beauty, ‘cause she came straight from heaven.’
Jordan finishes the song, and the room is completely silent as the last note fades away and he puts his guitar down. He holds out his hands to her, and then the only sound are her bare feet patting on the stage. It’s not until Jordan drops to one knee that the crowd explodes. There are screams, and cheers, and whistles.
Lydia hates clichés and she’s always done her best to avoid becoming one, but she gasps and claps her hand over her mouth. Her eyes widen when Jordan pulls a small black box out of his pocket. Lydia’s vision is blurry from her tears, and she can’t hear the words Jordan says over the noise of the crowd and her heart attempting to beat out of her chest, so she has no idea when Jordan is done talking. Maybe she’s missed her cue, maybe she’s too early. But Lydia drops to her knees, wraps her arms around Jordan’s neck and pulls him into a kiss. Their first public kiss in almost two years. The cheer of the crowd is deafening, and Lydia hides her face in Jordan’s neck, kissing yesses into his skin.
When they finally stand up, they go down again from their friends’ congratulatory tackle.