Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

September 29th- Into your room

“Whoever thought 8 o'clock soundchecks were a good idea should go jump off a building,” Ilsa grouses as she takes her second sip of coffee for the morning, staring at the band before them who are soundchecking on the stage. 

“Just be glad we aren’t them,” Grace says from the seat next to her, sounding equally as miserable. 

“I don’t understand why we couldn’t just do this yesterday,” Ilsa sighs, throwing her head back. 

“Because there were people performing here yesterday,” comes a familiar voice from above her, and Alanna’s blonde head comes into Ilsa’s line of sight, peering down at her from the row above them. Alanna’s blonde hair is tied back in a loose ponytail, and the pair of tortoiseshell glasses she has on makes her look more domestic than usual. 

“I don’t see how that’s much of an issue,” Ilsa says at the same time as Grace asks “Where’s Paris?” Alanna chuckles as she slides into the seat next to Ilsa, a cup of tea in hand. 

“I’m sure the other band would have loved it if we went yesterday in the middle of their set,” she says, and Ilsa lets out a puff of air. “I have no clue where she is, but you know how she somehow shows up perfectly on time for everything, so I wouldn’t worry,”  Alanna says, addressing Grace, who nods.

The other band is finished by the time Ilsa finishes her coffee, and the assistants are setting up the stage for them. Grace is scrolling through her phone on one side of her, and Alanna is staring into space on her other side, eyes half-closed. 

“Hi,” Paris says from behind them, making Ilsa nearly topple out of her chair. Alanna jolts, and Grace turns around with a smile, seemingly unfazed. 

“Hi!” She says cheerfully. “Just in time!” The people on stage are waving at them to come up, and Ilsa pushes herself off of her chair with a groan. Alanna holds out her hands, and Ilsa begrudgingly pulls her up with an amused smile. 

“Thanks darling,” Alanna says with a wink, and Ilsa rolls her eyes. While she was a blushing mess around Alanna at first, she’s found herself becoming more immune to Alanna’s charm as time goes on, regarding it with a more affectionate amusement. 

“You ready?” Their manager, Will, asks as they approach the stage. Alanna nods, and he smiles. “Go knock everyone’s socks off,” he says, and then he’s gone and they’re left to start their set. 

“It’s just a rehearsal,” Ilsa calls after him, and he laughs. 

“Still,” he throws over his shoulder, and Ilsa rolls her eyes. Paris hops up onto the raised stage that her drumset is sitting on, and Grace saunters her way behind the keyboard. Ilsa’s main guitar is sitting on a stand off to the side, and she retrieves it with a sigh. 

“Here we go,” she says, and Alanna throws her a sideways glance, the corners of her mouth turning up. Ilsa returns the smirk as her fingers start to move over the strings of her guitar as she tunes it. 

“Ready?” Alanna asks after a few seconds, and Ilsa nods. Grace throws her a thumbs up from behind the keys and Paris mirrors the gesture. “All yours Ilsa,” Alanna says with a grin, and with the opening chords of their first song, they’re off. 

Alanna looks surprisingly relaxed as they play through their set, all loose limbs and smiles that somehow make Ilsa smile too. Their mics cut out randomly in the middle of the set, and Alanna dissolves into soft laughter as her voice fades from the speakers along with Ilsa’s guitar, the drums, and the piano. 

“All good?” She asks after a stagehand has run over to fiddle with the mic and run off again, and there’s a thumbs up from the side. 

“From the top of the first chorus?” Ilsa suggests, and Alanna nods. 

“All yours,” she says with a small smile, and Ilsa smiles back as she strums a few chords, vaguely aware of the light blush warming her cheeks. The sun has started peeking out from behind the clouds, casting Alanna in a warm glow as she starts singing again. Just like an angel, Ilsa thinks to herself absentmindedly. 

Alanna has the voice of an angel too; born into a family of musical theater geniuses, she was the only one who didn’t pursue broadway. Instead, she went to college and majored in music, graduated, and started posting covers of songs on the internet. Within months, she had a record deal and signed with the other three girls as a band. 

Ilsa knew that Alanna’s quick signing had something to do with her family’s money and influence in the showbiz world, but for all that she cared, Alanna deserved it. She had seen how hard she worked to make things as good as possible, and she had one of the most beautiful voices Ilsa had ever heard. The voice of an angel. 

“We’ve decided to do something different this year,” Alanna’s voice cuts into Ilsa’s thoughts as she runs through the last part of her set. “We’re gonna give each city a cover of a different song, and I’m going to pull a different member out for each one, so,” she motions to Ilsa who smiles, tilting her head to the side playfully as she steps into the center of the stage. 

“Everyone ready?” Ilsa asks the approximately five people scattered in the audience, and she hears Grace chuckle from behind her. 

“This one’s called into your room,” Alanna says as she glances at Ilsa. “Take it away, Ilsa,” she says, and Ilsa strums out the first chords with a smile as she approaches the mic. 

She doesn’t really remember the rest of it, the moments blurring together from them finishing their set to getting lunch, and suddenly it’s time for the real thing. They’ve yet to show each other their outfits- “It’ll be like a wedding dress reveal,” Grace had said excitedly, and Ilsa hadn’t protested. 

The stylist finishes on Ilsa’s hair just as Grace comes prancing into the room, dragging Paris behind her. 

“Thoughts?” She asks just as Ilsa turns, striking a pose. Grace is in a shirt with puffy sleeves covered by a form fitting black vest and a pair of matching black trousers. 

“Looks awfully fancy for our first concert of the year,” Ilsa says coyly. Grace pouts, and Ilsa grins. “I’m just kidding,” she reassures the brunette as she pushes out of her chair. “It looks hot.” 

“It does,” a voice from behind her agrees. Ilsa turns to face the owner of that voice and is immediately rendered speechless. 

Alanna’s wavy blonde hair is down, her dark roots starting to peek out at the top of her head. A white silk minidress hugs her body, just barely covering the top of her legs which are covered in sheer black fishnets. Ilsa vaguely registers her cheeks flushing pink, and all of a sudden she’s a flustered mess around Alanna just like when they first signed to the same band together. 

Grace’s wolf whistle brings her back to the present, and Ilsa tears her eyes away from Alanna’s dress to meet her gaze, which is surprisingly directed at her. Alanna seems at a loss for words too as she stares at Ilsa, who blushes a deeper shade of pink. 

“Damn,” she finally manages out, and the tension in the air between them cracks a bit as Alanna lets out a tiny laugh. 

“I could say the same about you,” she says, her eyes still locked on Ilsa’s as she gives her a sly grin. 

“Where did you find the dress?” Paris asks, and Alanna’s eyes finally detach from Ilsa as she turns to answer Paris’s question. 

“I stole it from Ilsa’s trailer,” she says, and Ilsa yelps in indignation. 

“I knew it looked familiar,” she exclaims, standing from her chair. Alanna’s eyes dart down her body again, fully taking in the halfway zipped up leather jacket and matching miniskirt that Ilsa put together a solid thirty minutes before they gathered.  

“How tall are those?” Alanna asks, gesturing to the platform boots on Ilsa’s feet that bring Ilsa to nearly her height. 

“Tall enough,” Ilsa says with a wicked grin. 

“I still don’t understand how you manage in those,” Grace sighs from the other side of the room, and Paris nods her agreement with a sigh. 

“Skill,” Ilsa says, twirling, and when she looks back towards the group, Alanna’s eyes are shining with mirth. 

“I think you just like being as tall as the rest of us over here,” she says, and Ilsa scoffs playfully. 

“Well, why would you ever assume that?” She asks, sauntering over to Alanna until they’re nearly face to face. She brings her hand up to compare their height, and grins satisfactorily when the difference comes away as a mere centimeter. 

“I’m wearing heels for the next one,” Alanna decides, scrunching her nose at Ilsa who sticks out her tongue. 

“You just like towering over me,” Ilsa says matter-of-factly, and Alanna grins. 

“That’s true,” she says, and Grace cackles from the other side of the room. Ilsa looks over to see Paris shaking her head, a small grin lighting her face. 

“Twenty minutes,” Will comes in to warn them, and Alanna cocks an eyebrow at the rest of them. 

“Ready?” She asks, and Ilsa nods. Grace pushes herself off of the wall she’s leaning on, and shoots them a megawatt grin. 

“Let’s go change some people’s lives,” she says, and Paris rolls her eyes. 

“I don’t think we’re gonna do that,” she says, smirking, and Grace waves her hand dismissively.

“We absolutely are,” she drawls, and Paris sighs affectionately. 

“Whatever you say,” she mutters, and Grace grins. 

The crowd is completely electric, which gives Ilsa a boost as soon as she steps out onto the stage, staring out at the faces blurring together in screams and cheers. The cheers get louder as Alanna bounces on stage, and Ilsa can’t help it as the grin on her face grows. 

“Are you guys ready for this?” Alanna asks, taking hold of the microphone, a giant grin on her face. The crowd gets louder, and Alanna glances at Ilsa. “Take it away, Ils,” she says and before Ilsa can fully process the new nickname, she’s strumming the opening chords and Alanna’s voice is floating over the first notes of the song. 

The set is perfect, the perfect start to their tour, and then they hit the surprise song. Alanna announces it, the crowd goes predictably wild, and Ilsa steps forward. The opening notes of the song ring out, and Ilsa sneaks a glance at Alanna who is surprisingly staring right back, gaze filled with apprehension and excitement. 

“I will run,” Alanna starts, honey sweet, pulling an almost reflexive smile to Ilsa’s face. “After your moving car.” Alanna doesn’t turn to face the crowd at first surprisingly, resulting in her staring directly into Ilsa’s eyes, causing a startling amount of panic in Ilsa’s body that nearly causes her to short circuit. 

“And I will follow you,” Alanna continues, and all Ilsa can do is smile and strum at this point because her brain has basically been wiped clean in front of the whole crowd. “Hmm, you’re my northern star,” Alanna sings, and her gaze is so damn sincere looking that Ilsa nearly melts right there. 

“So don't drive away,” Alanna continues, and finally turns to face the crowd, who seems to be loving every second of it and has taken to singing along with startling force. Ilsa takes a very much needed deep breath as she looks out over the crowd, the blur of smiling faces, and looks back at Alanna. 

Then it’s her time to sing. 

Alanna turns to her, blue eyes, warm smile and all, encouraging her before Ilsa grips the mic with one hand and begins to sing. Ironically, as soon as she starts she can’t take her eyes off of Alanna either, a smile spreading across her face as she nears the second chorus. 

But I know a place where the darkness can’t reach us

On a whim, ignoring every bit of spacing they did at the sound check, Ilsa pulls her mic out of her mic stand and saunters over to Alanna, who mirrors her movements and meets her halfway. 

Maybe, take me into your room

Without you my soul is eternally doomed

Alanna’s eyes are sparkling in a way Ilsa only ever sees on stage, and she holds out her hand, pointing to Ilsa as she sings the next lines. 

You’re the center of this universe,

My sorry ass revolves around you.

The crowd is going absolutely mental by now, but Ilsa wouldn’t know from the way the rest of the world seems to fall away slowly as she grins at Alanna, one hand holding her mic, the other resting casually on the neck of her guitar. 

They finish up the song like that, and Ilsa finally remembers how to think just in time for Alanna to reach out and give her a loose one-arm hug before she retreats back to her area of the stage and switches out her guitar for their last song. 

All she can think about for the next few hours is the way Alanna’s eyes were shining, her electric smile directed at Ilsa and Ilsa only. And when she finally manages to close her eyes and go to sleep, the last thing she finds herself thinking is I’m so fucked.

Chapter Text

Ilsa wakes up to way too many twitter notifications and three missed calls from Grace. She lies in bed for a moment, mentally preparing herself for what’s to come before pressing on Grace’s contact and holding her breath. 

Grace picks up in one ring. 

“Have you seen the things people are saying?” Grace asks.

“I quite literally just woke up,” Ilsa grouses, and Grace pauses for a moment. 

“Well, you might want to check your twitter then,” Grace says, and Ilsa puts her on speaker in order to open up the app. 

The first thing she sees is a picture of her and Alanna from the night before. It’s a bit blurry, but Ilsa can make it out as the surprise song of their set, both her and Alanna with mics in their hands. The caption of the photo is what gets Ilsa though- “ The way they look at each other?! I WANT IT 🥹” and she pauses. Stares. Reads it again. 

As a budding band they never really got this kind of attention, and even the occasional comment was easy to ignore. Now as Ilsa scrolls down, it’s all she can see. People talking about the song, if they’re hinting at something between them, or just freaking out in general over the fact that they added a surprise to their set. 

Grace’s voice snaps Ilsa back to the present with a worried “Ilsa? You still there?” 

“Yeah,” Ilsa says, still scrolling. “It’s… interesting,” she finally settles on, and she can practically hear Grace buzzing to ask her a question on the other end of the line. 

“Do you think we’ll have to…do anything about it?” Grace finally asks, and Ilsa stops scrolling. 

“I don’t think so?” Ilsa says after a long pause, and Grace seems to let out a small breath at that. “So long as it stays out of any crazy tabloids we should be fine,” Ilsa adds, and Grace is halfway through agreeing when Ilsa’s phone rings again, lighting up with Alanna’s name. 

“Shit Grace, I’m sorry, it’s Alanna,” Ilsa says after Grace is done, a group of butterflies kicking up in her stomach. 

“Answer her!” Grace squeaks. “I would love to hear what she has to say about this,” she adds right before Ilsa hangs up and picks up Alanna’s call. 

“I assume you’ve seen the things,” is the first thing Alanna says when Ilsa picks up, and Ilsa lets out a soft laugh. 

“I have,” she says, and Ilsa arches an eyebrow. “And what did you think of it?” She asks, and there’s a scuffling on Alanna’s end. 

“I’m actually right outside of your door and there’s an old lady staring at me like I’m crazy, so if you could let me in and I’ll tell you-” Ilsa is already at the door with an incredulous laugh, opening it to see a pyjama clad Alanna, phone in hand and eyes full of mirth. 

“Hi,” Ilsa says, laughter bleeding into her voice, and Alanna smiles. 

“Hi yourself,” she replies, stepping past Ilsa, into her room and flopping onto her bed. She seems to have also just woken up from the look of it- her hair is hanging over her shoulders in a slightly disheveled mess and her glasses are slightly askew on the bridge of her nose, but she looks adorable all the same.

“So?” Ilsa prompts her, perching next to her on the bed. “Thoughts on the whole thing?” Alanna turns to her, eyes intently trained on Ilsa. 

“I don’t know,” she says after a long second, blue eyes earnest. “It’s kind of funny, to be honest,” she adds after a moment, eyes still trained on Ilsa. “I mean, I don’t know if you’ve thought about it before, but we do make a good pair,” Alanna says, arching an eyebrow. Ilsa’s lips curve up just the slightest bit at that, trying hard to suppress a smile. 

“Are you saying-” she starts, but Alanna cuts her off with frantic waving.

“I’m sorry, I just realized how that came out,” she says, her face turning red, and Ilsa chuckles despite the slight sinking feeling in her stomach. But why do I feel disappointed that she doesn’t think of us in that way? “I meant we’re really good friends- well, bandmates- fuck, I don’t even know what I was trying to say,” Alanna’s hands are covering her face in embarrassment now, an extremely rare sight.

Without even thinking, Ilsa takes Alanna’s hands in her own and pries them away from Alanna’s still blushing face. “I know,” she says earnestly despite having no clue what Alanna is trying to say. Are we friends? Close friends? Would you fuck me? Would you date me? Why am I even thinking about that?

Alanna laughs quietly, making no move to pry her hands from Ilsa’s. “Well, apparently the internet doesn’t exactly know, so…” Ilsa shifts her grip on Alanna’s hands, moving so that their fingers lace and their palms press together. 

“Ignore them,” she says, scooching closer to Alanna. Alanna sighs, resting her head on Ilsa’s shoulder. 

“Do you think we should get rid of the duet?” She asks, and Ilsa’s eyebrows go up. 

“I think that’s a bit extreme,” she says. “A lot of people loved it, and it would be a little unfair to give it to one city and no one else.”

“You’re right,” Alanna murmurs, her head still resting on Ilsa’s shoulder. “I think there’s something to be said for the fact that we liked doing it too,” she adds. “Did you like it?” She asks after a second, raising her head to look Ilsa in the eye. 

“Are you kidding?” Ilsa responds with a small grin. “It was so different from anything we’ve done before. I loved it.” 

“Good,” Alanna sighs. “Then we’ll keep it.”

“Okay,” Ilsa says, silently wishing for Alanna’s head to land back on her shoulder. After a moment, Alanna heaves herself off the bed and untangles their hands. 

“Well,” she says, now standing in front of Ilsa. “We have to go in like, two hours, right?” Ilsa nods, frowning. “I’ll go then,” Alanna says, staring towards the door. “See you on the bus?” She asks as she closes the door, and Ilsa nods, smiling until the door clicks closed and she proceeds to flop back onto her bed, covering her eyes with the back of her hand.

October 4- Closer (feat. Halsey)

The sun is just starting to rise when Ilsa gets up, some of the light making it through the fabric of the curtains of the hotel room she’s sharing with Grace. 

“Wake up,” Ilsa mutters, poking Grace on the other bed, who groans. “It’s seven thirty. We have sound check in an hour and a half.” 

“Fine,” Grace huffs, making no move to go anywhere outside of her bed. Ilsa sighs.

“Fifteen more minutes?” She asks, and Grace grins. 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she murmurs, turning on her side away from Ilsa, who snoozes  their alarm and stuffs her face back into her pillow. 

It’s twenty more minutes before they both drag themselves out of bed, Grace claiming the bathroom first, leaving Ilsa to sneak in a few more minutes of sleep. They head downstairs half an hour later to grab breakfast and coffee, then board the bus to head to their venue of the day. 

Paris is only a few minutes behind them, flopping down in the seat next to Grace, who wordlessly offers her an earbud. Ilsa watches as Paris accepts it and they seem to fall into sync, heads moving unconsciously to the beat of the song. Alanna follows her, scanning the bus before sliding into the seat next to Ilsa, who offers her a wry smile. 

“Ready for today?” Alanna asks, arching an eyebrow, and Ilsa sighs. 

“Hardly,” Ilsa says, a smile creeping over her features. “It’s a risky song,” she adds as the bus lurches to life, and Alanna nods. 

“It’s a good song though,” she says with a shrug, and Ilsa chuckles softly. 

“It’ll be fun to perform,” Ilsa concedes, and Alanna grins, giving Ilsa a small nudge with her shoulder as they turn onto the open road and Alanna’s attention goes to her phone where she has the set list for the day playing. 

They make it to the venue fifteen minutes early, and a camp out in the little tent set up for everyone backstage. Ilsa mindlessly scrolls through her phone as they wait until Alanna’s voice snaps her out of it. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you guys, our openers are here,” Alanna says with a suspiciously cheerful smile. Paris raises an eyebrow. 

“Why are you so happy?” Grace asks, beating her to the question, and Alanna says nothing, just throws open the tent door in front of them, and Ilsa lets out a little gasp when she sees who’s outside. 

“Hi,” Ethan says with a grin, and Alanna steps forward to give him a short hug and a kiss on the cheek, followed by Ilsa and Grace. Paris just gives him a smile and a nudge as she walks by, and he returns the grin. 

“Since when were you opening for us?” Ilsa asks incredulously, hugging Benji, Ethan’s guitarist and bandmate. 

“The other band dropped out after last show,” Alanna says, pulling a face. “Brandt called these guys up and lo and behold they’ll be here for the middle chunk of the tour.” 

“Nice,” Grace says with a grin. “This is gonna be fun.” 

Ethan and his crew run through soundcheck before the girls, and Ilsa parks herself in one of the empty seats next to Alanna and Grace. Paris is sitting in the front row, occasionally hopping up on stage to help with technical issues because as Grace puts it: “She can pretty much do anything.”

Alanna exchanges a high five and a few close words with Ethan before they head up to run through their set. Ilsa eyes the duo as Alanna flicks the lapel of Ethan’s jacket before heading over to adjust the mic stand and Ethan just grins widely. They seem closer than last time I saw them, Ilsa muses as she grabs her acoustic guitar from its stand and begins to finger the strings to make sure it’s in tune. 

“All good?” Alanna asks, staring directly at Ilsa, who nods, meeting her eyes with a small grin. “All yours,” Alanna says with a wink, and before Ilsa can properly unpack that gesture, Paris hits the drum intro and their first song begins. 

Ilsa has to admit, it’s fun having their friends in the audience while they run through their set, occasionally getting a whoop or round of applause for a particularly hard riff or when Alanna absolutely nails the high note. 

It’s no surprise to anyone when they run through Closer at the end, Ilsa jogging up to the mic next to Alanna. By the chorus, ilsa is itching to try something, so she detaches her mic and starts towards Alanna. 

Alanna immediately sees what she’s trying to do and meets her halfway, playing with the space between them as her verse hits. Ilsa can only watch as Alanna works her magic, her stage presence and playfulness taking over for the next two and a half minutes as she dances around the stage, coming back to Ilsa just in time for the bridge, where she reaches out and pulls Ilsa closer, her arm draped over Ilsa’s shoulders as they reach the height of the song. 

As they finish, Ilsa feels giddy and slightly dizzy from a combination of Alanna’s proximity (why it makes her dizzy she has no idea, but she doesn’t dwell on it) and a song well done. She snaps back to reality as she watches Ethan and Benji make their way to the stage, grinning from ear to ear. 

“That was amazing,” Benji says, nudging Ilsa’s shoulder playfully. “The end-“ he pauses to glance at Alanna and Ethan, who are exchanging words only a few centimeters apart. “You and Alanna have something going there,” Benji finishes, looking back at Ilsa. 

“Thanks,” Ilsa says, a small smile slipping over her lips. “It’s fun being able to do this— perform songs that aren’t ours and make them ours,” she adds, and Benji nods in agreement. 

“It’s fun to watch,” he says with a grin as Grace joins them, Paris trailing behind her. 

“Look at those two,” Grace says, raising an eyebrow as she glances at Alanna and Ethan. “They look awfully cozy.” Ilsa hums in thought as she glances at the duo. 

“Ethan’s been talking about joining this from the second we got the call,” Benji says, cracking a smile. “You’d think it was Coachella or something.” 

“I know Alanna’s a flirt but…” Grace trails off, glancing at them again. “Come on,” she says, turning back to the rest of them, and Paris nods. 

“I see it,” she says, shrugging. “It makes enough sense.”

“They have been awfully close recently,” Ilsa pipes in. “Even before this they were always kind of flirty around each other.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Benji muses as the duo in question bursts into giggles, Alanna’s hand on Ethan’s shoulder as she doubles over laughing. Ilsa hums in agreement, ignoring the way her heart drops slightly at the sight of them together. 

Everyone goes out for lunch together before the show, and Ilsa distracts herself from whatever is happening to her when she sees Alanna and Ethan together by busying herself with getting outfit advice from Grace and Benji. 

“You should coordinate with Alanna since you two are doing the duet,” Grace suggests halfway through their brainstorm session, and Benji looks up from his curried chicken. 

“That’s a good idea,” he says, pointing his fork at Grace for emphasis.  “Even just wearing the same color will make it look better.” Alanna glances at Ilsa, having just heard her name. 

“What?” She asks, and Ilsa suppresses an affectionate smile at her adorably confused look. 

“Benji was saying that we should coordinate what color we’re wearing for the show tonight,” Ilsa says, and Alanna’s eyes widen in excitement. 

“Oh, that’s such a good idea!” She exclaims, and Benji grins. “What color should we wear?” She asks Ilsa, resting her chin on her hand. “You look good in pretty much everything, so…” she trails off, and Ilsa turns pink. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but look who’s talking,” she shoots back, and Alanna laughs. 

“You look good with anything on,” Alanna says with a grin. “Or nothing on,” she adds after a second, her grin turning evil, and Grace falls into a heap of laughter next to Ilsa as Ilsa tries to tame her flaming cheeks while barely holding in her laughter. Benji looks away, but Ilsa can see his shoulders shaking in laughter, and next to him Ethan looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh. 

“Wow,” Ilsa manages out, and Alanna laughs again. 

“I was thinking of wearing something a little revealing, given the song,” Alanna says once everyone has vaguely composed themselves, and Ilsa arches an eyebrow. 

“I can do that,” she says. “Show off the abs a bit,” she adds with a wink at Grace, who rolls her eyes. 

“Alright,” Alanna says, a playful spark in her eyes. “We just need to choose a color then.” 

“How does turquoise sound?” Ilsa asks after a second. 

“Oddly specific, but I like it,” Alanna says, holding her hand out for Ilsa to shake. “Pleasure doing business with you,” she adds as Ilsa takes her hand and gives it a firm shake. “I’m sure I have something hot and turquoise to wear hidden somewhere in my closet.” 

“I have some ideas,” Ilsa says with a small grin. 

“I can’t wait to see the outfits,” Ethan pipes in from across from Alanna, and Ilsa watches Alanna’s face light with a mischievous grin directed at Ethan. 

“You can help me pick mine if you want,” Alanna offers Ethan, and Grace and Benji exchange a look. 

“I’d love to,” Ethan says with a grin, leaning in a bit further. 

“Alright,” Alanna says, a satisfied grin resting on her face. Ilsa swaps looks with Paris, who looks mildly entertained and a bit smug at the way things have turned out. 

As time inches closer to the show, they head back to the venue and Ilsa retires to her trailer to find an outfit for the night. (That’s a lie— she had one in mind ever since they picked a color and Alanna said revealing.) 

Ilsa goes for a tube top that shows off her abs as promised and a pair of tight ripped jeans with a pair of platform boots that give her a whopping five centimeters more height than she already has. 

The hair and makeup crew comes in for her an hour before the show and their hairstylist gives Ilsa a wink. “Alanna said you guys are matching, so we did your hair and makeup pretty similar. Wait until you see her outfit,” she adds with a knowing grin. 

“Should I be worried?” Ilsa asks with a laugh, and her hairstylist grins. 

“Let’s just say I wouldn’t blame anyone who comes away from this show with a giant crush on her,” she says, and Ilsa raises an eyebrow, a small smile forming on her lips. 

“I’m intrigued,” Ilsa says, glancing in the direction of Alanna’s trailer. “I’m gonna go look.”

She makes her way next door to Alanna’s trailer and knocks on the door. “It’s Ilsa,” she says when she hears nothing, and then a squeak comes from inside. 

“Oh, one second,” Alanna calls, and Ilsa waits until the door is opened to show Alanna in a robe covering her entire body. “Wow,” Alanna says as soon as she sees Ilsa, her eyes skating over Ilsa’s body, lingering on her exposed stomach. “I didn’t think you were serious about the abs showing but…” she trails off, lightly tracing the toned lines of Ilsa’s stomach with her finger. “I like it,” she finishes, and for some reason Ilsa’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire as Alanna’s finger leaves a trail of warmth on Ilsa’s stomach. 

“Thank you,” Ilsa says with a coy smile. “Can I see?” She asks, lightly tugging Alanna’s robe. 

“The big reveal?” Alanna says playfully, and Ilsa steps inside. 

“I’ve been told many things about this, so you’ve got a high bar,” she says, and Alanna simply unties the robe and lets it fall to the floor. 

Ilsa swears her heart stops for a moment before her brain reminds her to breathe.

“Holy shit, she was absolutely right,” Ilsa manages out, and confusion flickers over Alanna’s features. “The hairdresser said-” Ilsa starts, barely hiding the blush on her cheeks. “She said that she wouldn’t blame anyone who comes away from this show with a giant crush on you,” Ilsa finishes, and Alanna gasps playfully. 

“I’m flattered,” she says, and Ilsa chuckles. Alanna’s outfit really is a work of art- Alanna herself is a work of art, her brain reminds her, which Ilsa promptly files away in the Why am I thinking this about my closest friend and bandmate category of her brain to unpack later. 

Alanna wears a turquoise bra with a sheer black long sleeve top over it that succeeds in covering absolutely nothing and makes Ilsa stare for a little too long. On the bottom she has a pair of jean shorts that seem to serve the same purpose as the top and black boots with thick soles that give Alanna a centimeter or two ( as if she didn’t already have that height over me, Ilsa grouses) 

“Why the boots?” Ilsa asks. “You have plenty of height on me without them,” she adds with a pout, and Alanna laughs. 

“Well, it’s like you said,” she grins, stepping closer to Ilsa until there’s barely a few centimeters between them, Alanna’s height over Ilsa becoming apparent. “I like towering over you,” she finishes with a playfully arched eyebrow. 

Ilsa swallows as she tilts her head up to meet Alanna’s gaze, her heart beating a little faster for some reason as she tries not to let her gaze dip south. “I’m gonna get you one day,” Ilsa says, her voice coming out weaker than intended. Alanna holds her gaze for one more second before they both burst out laughing, Alanna’s forehead coming to rest against Ilsa’s as Ilsa grins. 

“I’ll wait for that day,” Alanna says, taking a few steps back from Ilsa, who pouts. 

“It’ll happen,” Ilsa says. “Just you wait until I bring out those six centimeter heels.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Alanna says matter of factly, and Ilsa swats at her as she cackles. 

Someone knocks on Alanna’s trailer door as Ilsa is about to go out, and she comes face to face with Brandt as she opens the door. 

“You’re on in thirty,” he says, saying nothing about the fact that Ilsa is anywhere but her own trailer. 

“Thanks,” Alanna calls from behind Ilsa, and Brandt shoots her a thumbs up. 

“Be ready to go in fifteen,” he says, closing the door behind him. 

“I should probably go then,” Ilsa says.

“Okay, see you in a few,” Alanna smiles as Ilsa slips out. Ilsa starts towards her own trailer, but pauses and instead slips over to the stage where Ethan and his band are playing. She stands well behind the makeshift wings, out of sight from everyone but Luther on the drums in the back, who looks too focused to notice her. 

She stands there for a minute or two more before she feels a presence behind her, and turns to see Alanna’s wavy blonde hair next to her. 

“Long time no see,” Ilsa quips quietly, and Alanna chuckles. She turns back to the stage as Ethan hits the chorus with a whoop. 

“He’s really a natural, isn’t he?” Alanna says, not so much of a question as it is a statement, her eyes shining just a bit. “Handsome, good voice…” she trails off, looking at Ilsa as if for confirmation, and Ilsa nods idly, reminded of her earlier conversation with Grace. Maybe Alanna is looking for something with him, she muses, ignoring the small pang in her chest at the thought. 

They stand there in silence until Brandt collects them for last minute touch ups, and Ilsa stands still as her makeup artist applies one more coat of pink on her lips and touches up her winged eyeliner. Ethan and his band come jogging up from the stage just as the final coat of pink has been applied to Ilsa’s lips, all of them grinning. 

“The crowd’s good today,” Ethan says, a sparkle in his eyes. Alanna turns towards him, her expression brightening just the smallest bit. 

“That’s a relief,” she says. “I’m always worried that they won’t be  energetic enough and we’ll just end up falling flat,” she admits, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“I wouldn’t worry about that with this one,” Ethan says, glancing towards the path to backstage, where the crew is changing out the instruments.

“Good to know,” Alanna says, her smile widening just a bit as she brushes past Ethan with Ilsa, Grace and Paris following in tow as Brandt calls to them from backstage. 

“Everyone ready?” Brandt asks them as lights flash onstage. Ilsa nods, and Grace grins widely. “Go get ‘em,” Brandt smiles as Alanna runs on stage first, followed by Paris, Grace, and then Ilsa. 

The crowd is energetic as advertised, and Ilsa finds herself having more fun than usual, feeding on the energy around her. She hits her chords with purpose, the tension in her shoulders gone as she lets herself lean into the moment more. 

By the time they hit the end of their set, Ilsa can tell the energy is starting to dwindle, but as soon as Alanna announces their duet, it’s like the crowd reaches a whole new level of energy. The place is practically buzzing with excitement as Ilsa steps forwards to her mic, grinning at the crowd, and then Alanna. 

“Hey guys,” she says, leaning into the microphone with a smile, and the crowd cheers loudly in response. When the cheering dies down, Grace starts off the first few notes of the song, and Ilsa joins in as Paris moves from her drum set to the synth board set up next to it. 

Alanna hits the chorus as she tilts her head to look at Ilsa, who joins in with a low harmony that makes Alanna grin, just like they had practiced. Alanna’s voice fades out at the end of the chorus, leaving Ilsa to her verse of the song, and suddenly there’s a small pool of butterflies in her stomach as she begins. 

You-look as good as the day I met you

I forget just why I left you, I was insane

She plays along with the lyrics, catching Alanna’s gaze as she lets go of her guitar and takes the mic with both hands, a smile pulling at her lips as she pulls it out of its stand. The lyrics really are true– Alanna in that top with a beautifully bright smile on her face as Ilsa catches her eye is really the same Alanna she met all those years ago in her manager’s office, just trying to make a name for herself without the help of her ever famous parents. 

Ilsa approaches the audience as the pre chorus starts, and as she nears the chorus she hears a cheer go up from the crowd. Alanna must be doing something, she decides, but as she turns to glance at her, a warm arm snakes around her middle, and Ilsa’s stomach does a little swoop as she turns her head to face Alanna, whose eyes are filled with mischief. 

So, baby, pull me closer

In the back seat of your Rover

That I know you can't afford

Bite that tattoo on your shoulder

Ilsa wills her cheeks to stay a normal color as she runs a finger along Alanna’s barely covered shoulder, and Alanna’s arm slips off Ilsa’s wait as she saunters away grinning. The crowd is pretty much screaming at this point, and Ilsa barely has time to wonder why the interaction made her so flustered. 

She ends the song with a lopsided grin at Alanna as she steps back with her guitar, and Alanna’s eyes look like they’re glowing. 

As soon as they get offstage they’re greeted by Will, who seems pretty unfazed by the whole situation of Ilsa and Alanna freestyling. “Do whatever you want so long as the crowd likes it,” he says airily. “And it’s appropriate,” he adds after a second, and Alanna laughs. 

“I’m not going to start stripping,” she protests, and Grace barely stifles her laugh. 

“I’m sure your fans wouldn’t hate that,” she says with a mischievous grin, nudging Ilsa, who snorts. 

“Lets let them recover from this first,” Ilsa says, gesturing to Alanna’s sheer top, just to find that she’s rolled it up and her toned stomach is on full display. She must make some sort of face, because Grace starts laughing and Alanna raises an eyebrow, a grin tugging at her lips.

“You guys did amazing,” Ethan appears out of thin air next to Alanna, and Ilsa nearly topples over at his sudden appearance. Grace trades a look with Paris as Alanna’s face seems to light up a bit more. The group slowly disperses as the duo chats, Ilsa gravitating towards her trailer where she closes the door with a sigh. 

I wonder if they’ll be like that for the whole tour, she thinks idly as she begins to grab some of the stuff that she’s left scattered around the place. It’ll be interesting to say the least. 

Six hours later, they’re trending on Twitter. #ilsalanna is starting to take off for the second week in a row, and Ilsa can only watch helplessly as clips of her and Alanna circle the internet once more, this time with more comments about how “whipped” Ilsa looks for Alanna and how Alanna looks at her so adoringly she might as well have hung the stars. Ilsa ignores it, decides it’s all in their heads, and closes the app. 

(But she still can’t help but wonder if that’s true, and almost opens one of the videos just to see how exaggerated the fans are making it. Fifteen minutes later, she gives in and opens her phone, pulls one up, and decides that they're exaggerating a little. She did not look at Alanna in that way. And even if she did, they’re close friends and nothing more–)

She buries her head in her hands. This is what everyone meant when they said don’t let the fans get to you.

Chapter Text

Alanna tells them a few hours before their press team gives them the go-ahead to soft launch it, and Ilsa would be lying if she said she didn’t see it coming. “Ethan and I are dating,” Alanna says simply, having gathered Grace, Paris, and Ilsa in her room the night before they leave for their next stop, and Ilsa feels another pang of something in her chest; some unidentifiable thing that her brain is trying to tell her. She pushes it down, waving it off as some sort of sign that she ought to get a girlfriend herself. 

Grace immediately breaks out into a huge grin, reaching out to hug Alanna. “I knew it,” she laughs, and Alanna just laughs along with her. “Congratulations,” she adds, Paris chiming in with a small smile, a rare sight from the drummer. Ilsa belatedly realizes she should do the same, a smile making its way onto her face as she gives Alanna a congratulatory squeeze. 

“Took you long enough,” she says playfully as they separate, and Alanna pushes her lightly in mock annoyance. “I’m happy for you,” Ilsa adds with a small smile, and Alanna smiles back, almost shyly. 

“Thank you,” she says, so sincerely that Ilsa feels a part of her melt. 

Ethan soft launches it on his instagram story a few hours later- a mirror selfie of him and Alanna with Alanna’s face cut out, captioned by a red heart. Ilsa can’t deny it looks adorably sweet, and it takes fans a solid day to figure out that it’s Alanna, which leaves Ilsa half impressed and half terrified. 

“THEY’RE DATING?!?! OMG IM DEAD,” Ilsa sees a comment as she scrolls through her feed, which is mostly just news of Ethan and Alanna with a few cat videos sprinkled in. She scrolls further, hoping to escape the surprised fans, finally putting down her phone with a sigh as she leans back in the chair of the hotel lobby. 

“Hey,” Grace greets her, flopping into the chair next to her. “Did you see what Ethan posted?” Ilsa hums in affirmative, and Grace smiles.

“It’s so cute. I’m happy that Ethan finally got his act together and asked her out,” she adds, and Ilsa laughs. 

“I don’t think he’ll be able to handle her,” she says, half-joking, and Grace raises an eyebrow with a small grin. 

“What makes you say that?” She asks, and Ilsa finds herself struggling for words. 

“She’s so energetic, and he’s so…” she pauses. “Calm?” She finishes, a small laugh escaping her. 

“They do say opposites attract,” Grace says, and Ilsa finds herself thinking about herself and Alanna– the way they seem to balance each other out so well, Alanna’s sharp balancing and contrasting her smooth quietness, and at times bringing out the sharpness in her as well. 

“That’s true,” Ilsa concedes with a nod, and they sit in silence until Will calls them from the bus, telling them it’s time to go. 

October 9- Stay (feat. Mikky Ekko)

Ilsa finds that their song of the day seems to fit her mood perfectly. Having seen barely five days of Alanna and Ethan as a couple, she finds them both adorable and insufferably together; she can barely get Alanna alone anymore even to just talk about the arrangement of their duet. 

Okay, fine, she misses her. She misses having Alanna’s shoulder to sleep on during bus rides and the random eye contact they’ll make when they’re in the same room that’s been shut down since Ethan and Alanna can’t stop staring at each other now. And sure it’s only been five days, but Ilsa starts to realize all the little things she took for granted when Alanna was single. 

She’s digging deep for those feelings during their rehearsal and it must show, because Alanna is looking at her with such an intensity that Ilsa finds herself looking away, busying herself with adjusting one of the pegs on her guitar. 

Ethan hops up onstage after the rehearsal to give Alanna a hug and banter with Paris about her drum set, and Ilsa finds herself retreating to her trailer to tweak some parts of the song. She keeps on falling just short of a note in the chorus, and she’s determined to fix it before the show. 

After half an hour of practicing, Ilsa wanders over to the stage to see if she can grab her guitar to play around a little. She passes Alanna’s trailer on the way over and hears giggles coming from inside. She almost knocks to see who’s inside, wondering if it’s Ethan, but holds herself back and continues on to the stage, where she successfully swipes her acoustic guitar. 

On the way back, she spots Ethan coming in the general direction of Alanna’s trailer, her suspicions confirmed. She smiles lightly at Ethan as they pass, and he grins back as he sees the guitar in her hand. 

“Have fun,” he says, gesturing to the guitar as they pass, and Ilsa laughs. 

“I will,” she replies, throwing him an amused glance as they go their separate ways. She steps inside her trailer, beelining for the couch where she flops down and begins making sure it’s in tune. She pulls out her phone and presses play on her most recent song; the one that’s been taking over her head since well before Alanna and Ethan became a thing, and strums the opening chords. 

For the concert, Ilsa wears black. It’s an unconscious decision, but when she looks in the mirror, she realizes she looks like she’s in mourning, and she can’t help but laugh at that. The makeup team plays off of it, giving her a cat eye and smokey eyeshadow, leaving Ilsa’s blue eyes as the only hint of color on her. 

Grace breaks out into a giant grin when she sees Ilsa. “I swear you and Alanna have some sort of mind link,” she says incredulously, and Ilsa raises an eyebrow. 

“We do,” Alanna’s voice comes from behind Ilsa, and Ilsa is met with a mirror image of her, but instead of the baggy pants and cropped long sleeve, Alanna is in a tight black dress and knee high boots. A mischievous smirk sits on her lips as she looks at Ilsa, who shakes her head, pressing her lips together to conceal her smile. 

“She’s thinking about how much she wishes she chose my outfit,” Ilsa says, going along with the joke as she gestures at Alanna, who laughs, caught off guard by the statement. 

“She’s thinking about how much she likes being shorter than me,” Alanna says, and Ilsa squeaks in indignation. 

“That’s in, our mind link is broken,” she says, pulling a face at Alanna, who laughs devilishly.

“You could never get rid of me like that,” she grins as they make their way to the stage, and Ilsa smirks. 

“Who said I wanted to?” She asks, and Alanna shoots her a look that Ilsa surprisingly can’t decipher. 

They walk the rest of the way to the stage in silence, the music from the stage becoming louder and louder until it hits Ilsa full force as they step into the wings. Alanna smiles when she sees Ethan, then turns to the group. Ilsa sticks her hand in the middle of them wordlessly, smiling as Alanna follows suit, then Grace and Paris. Alanna’s hand is warm over hers, and Ilsa can feel the worn metal on her favorite rings on the back of her hand. 

“One,” Grace starts quietly, and without speaking the rest of them finish the silent cheer, hands dipping down and up together twice before they let them fly apart. Ethan’s band jogs backstage just as they turn to face the stage, and Ethan gives Alanna a little squeeze as he passes. Ilsa averts her eyes, feeling like she’s intruding on something, instead focusing on putting her in-ear in. 

“Good luck,” Will says from the side, and next thing Ilsa knows they’re jogging out to greet the crowd again, and her guitar is back in her hands, its weight comfortably against her torso as she swings the strap over one shoulder. 

The set goes smoothly once again, and Ilsa even catches Ethan watching them from the wings once. She shoots him a smile that he fleetingly returns, but she can tell that his attention is trained on Alanna– and honestly, Ilsa can’t blame him. Alanna looks like she’s glowing as she bounces around the stage, the sun providing a backdrop that catches her wavy blonde hair in a way that makes her look ethereal. 

Ilsa’s built up plenty of emotion for their song just thinking about that when Alanna calls her out for their duet, and she lets it roll out of her the second Grace plays out the opening notes of the song on her keyboard. 

She lets it all go- slowly at first, but as she builds up to the chorus, she can’t help but turn to face the object of her emotions, who stares back so earnestly that Ilsa nearly screams. 

Not really sure how to feel about it

Something in the way you move

Makes me feel like I can't live without you

It takes me all the way

I want you to stay

Ilsa holds out the last note before Alanna’s verse a little longer than she should, but it’s worth it to see how something flickers through Alanna’s eyes before she turns away to the crowd, and Ilsa follows her lead. 

The lyrics ring a little too close to home for her– Alanna’s been a notable absence from things she didn’t even realize until Ethan swept her away, and now Ilsa longs for the times Alanna would just barge in her hotel room “because she was bored” and they would sit in silence watching some crappy TV show until their next rehearsal. 

(And Ilsa knows it's only been five days, but she can’t help it. She misses her.)

And in the middle of the second chorus, staring out at Alanna, whose blonde hair is falling in waves around her face, the slowly setting sun hitting her so that her skin is golden and her eyes are iridescent, Ilsa takes a second to admire her. 

And as they harmonize out the last notes, Alanna looking straight into Ilsa’s eyes with such an intensity, it hits Ilsa like a truck. 

Holy shit, I’m in love with Alanna Mitsopolis.

Chapter Text

October 13- I don’t wanna live forever

Exactly four days after Ilsa’s revelation, she finds herself sitting in her trailer alone, thinking. Their next duet is today, and Ilsa doesn’t know how they’ve picked such a perfect song yet again. 

Seriously, it’s like the world is playing some sort of cruel trick on her. 

She finds herself avoiding Alanna a little more, only talking to her when they have to figure something concert-related out, and giving her a wide berth when they don’t need to be together. With her newly acquired free time, Ilsa throws herself head first into a newfound solace- songwriting. Sure she wrote some songs before, but they always ended up half finished or as melodies without lyrics or vise-versa. 

Ilsa’s newfound realization gives her plenty to write about. Poems scribbled on the back of napkins at rest stops, her notebook filled with half-baked ideas that she tries to piece together, Ilsa finds herself unable to stop writing, scribbling down every idea that comes to her head. 

“What’re you working on?” Grace asks sleepily as she slides into the seat behind Ilsa on the tour bus, leaning over the seat to look at Ilsa’s notebook. 

“I don’t even know,” Ilsa sighs, her pen going slack in her hand as she glances up at Grace’s face hovering above hers. “It’s supposed to be lyrics? Like, for a song? But they’re not really fitting together at the moment,” she frowns, staring at the words in her notebook. 

“That’s cool,” Grace murmurs, the interest in her voice genuine despite her sleepiness. “You should sing it for us sometime.” Ilsa hums in lieu of an answer as Grace retreats to her seat just as Paris appears on the bus, wordlessly sliding past Grace to the window seat. Grace waits until Paris settles in beside her before settling her head on Paris’s shoulder and closing her eyes. Paris seems to pay no attention to it, the hint of pink on her cheeks the only reaction to the gesture she gives. 

They seem to do that every day , Ilsa thinks to herself as she turns back to her seat. They have the ease of a longtime married couple. It’s cute. 

Alanna turns up to the bus a minute before they’re supposed to leave, cutting it close enough for Ilsa to wonder why she’s so late. Then Ilsa spots a pink mark just above the neckline of her tank top, and everything clicks into place, her heart dropping just a bit. Alanna must realize that’s what Ilsa’s staring at as she slides in next to her, pulling up her tank top just a little bit. She meets Ilsa’s eyes sheepishly, and Ilsa only arches her eyebrow, a slight smirk on her lips. 

They were always able to say things without words. Ilsa stares at her notebook as something begins to form in her mind again. Her pink love marks that should be mine. 

Rehearsal goes well– except for the fact that Ilsa can’t bring herself to meet Alanna’s gaze- not while they’re performing a song about the exact things she’s feeling for her right now. She catches Alanna’s worried gaze at the end of their set, but heads off too fast for Alanna to actually accost her about it. 

A few hours later, a knock sounds on her door, and Ilsa expects the worst. “Come in,” she calls, but to her surprise, it’s Grace who steps in instead of Alanna. 

“Hey,” Grace says, much more awake than the morning, and Ilsa smiles. 

“What’s up?” She asks, and Grace shifts on her feet a little. 

“I just wanted to check in on you is all,” Grace says, her expression hard to read. “You seemed a little…” she trails off and Ilsa tilts her head. “You were avoiding Alanna,” Grace says finally, and Ilsa grimaces. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she tries halfheartedly, but Grace gives her a pointed look, and Ilsa sighs. “Fine, I might be avoiding her a little,” she concedes, and Grace sits next to her. 

“But why?” She asks quietly. “Did something happen between you two, or…” Grace trails off again, leaving a silence for Ilsa to fill. 

“No, nothing happened,” Ilsa says, trying to form words in her mind. 

“Are you sure?” Grace asks. “Because Alanna looked like a kicked puppy after staging, and I’ve never seen her like that before.” Ilsa can’t help the twinge of guilt in her stomach at that, but she pushes it down best she can. 

“I just… I think I needed to figure some things out,” Ilsa finally exhales, and a flicker of understanding passes through Grace’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Grace says softly, and Ilsa smiles sadly.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” she says, matching Grace’s tone, and Grace takes her hand, a genuine look of understanding on her face. 

“It still sucks though,” she says with a sigh. A knock on Ilsa’s door interrupts them, and Ilsa calls for the person too come in. 

“Probably Will,” she murmurs, and Grace nods. 

It’s not Will. 

Alanna tentatively pokes her head in, looking slightly nervous. “Am I interrupting something?” She asks, her eyes going slightly wide when she sees Grace’s hand over Ilsa’s. Grace quickly removes her hand, brushing off her pants as she stands. 

“No, I was just going,” she says, giving Ilsa one last squeeze on the shoulder, and a meaningful look that says everything she doesn’t have to. Alanna waits until the door is closed to start, tentatively walking over to sit on the couch next to Ilsa. 

“Did I do something?” She starts abruptly, and Ilsa feels her stomach drop. I can’t tell her. Not like this, not while she’s happy with Ethan. 

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Ilsa says quickly, instinctively reaching out to grab Alanna’s hands in reassurance. “I’m just– I’ve been tired today,” she fumbles to come up with an excuse, but Alanna still looks unsure. “Don’t worry about it,” Ilsa says, finally mustering up the confidence to look Alanna dead in the eye, her own sea blue reflected in Alanna’s icy blue eyes. 

“Okay,” Alanna says after a long silence, and Ilsa lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. “You promise?” She asks again, and Ilsa nods, hoping desperately that Alanna will let it go. “Okay,” Alanna says again, and then without any warning, she reaches forwards and engulfs Ilsa in a hug. 

The hug lasts a brief moment, but long enough for Ilsa to smell Alanna’s shampoo, a hint of her perfume, and the smell of her skin that Ilsa has become oddly acquainted with after years of simply hugging Alanna every chance she got. The irony of the situation is not lost on Ilsa as she brings her hand to Alanna’s back to hug her back. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. 

She hates the way time seems to pass in the blink of an eye after that, and the next thing she knows hair and makeup are there to do finishing touches before they go on stage. She catches Alanna’s eye before they go on, and Alanna gives her an assured smile. Ilsa returns it, and Alanna’s eyes soften a bit before she turns away to glance at the stage where Ethan’s band are wrapping up their set. 

Ilsa can feel Grace’s slightly pitying eyes on their interaction, but she doesn’t say anything, just turns to Will to take her in-ear for the duet of the day. They gather their hands in a circle wordlessly, breaking once Ethan’s band is off the stage. Alanna exchanges a shy smile with Ethan, bumping his shoulder as he passes. Ilsa can see the sappy grin that stretches over Ethan’s face, and feels the all too familiar pang of guilt in her stomach at seeing them so happy. 

I shouldn’t be feeling this for Alanna, not when she has a boyfriend who is so sickly in love with her and makes her happier  than I probably ever could. (But the reality is, Ilsa doesn’t know how to fall out of love with her, and she wonders if she’s just loved her from the start, from the moment that she walked into their company’s meeting room and saw the tall blonde sitting at the table, eager to pave her own path in life.) 

She can’t dwell on it though, because then they’re being pushed out on stage again, and Ilsa dredges her megawatt smile out of the depths of her heart just for the crowd. Because the fans are everything. 

Ilsa has the first verse of their duet for the first time since the tour started, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel more pressure. There was always something strangely soothing about hearing Alanna’s voice, silky and smooth, through the microphone before singing herself, but this time as the music starts, Ilsa is the first one to sing. 

She’s surprisingly not shaky. She shouldn’t be surprised about this- she’s a trained singer for fuck’s sake - but after the emotional turmoil of the past six hours have been catching up with her annoyingly fast, and she can feel it as she hits the first chorus alone, without Alanna’s voice mixing with hers. 

I don't wanna live forever, 'cause I know I'll be living in vain

And I don't wanna fit wherever

I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home

She musters up the courage to look in the vague direction of Alanna as she sings out the last few lines of the chorus, and is surprisingly met by Alanna’s eyes. Despite the heavy mascara and smokey black lining her eyes, Alanna looks undeniably raw, and Ilsa realizes just how much emotion she’s put into the song. 

During the second chorus, they get the same idea, Ilsa pulling her mic out of her mic stand and moving towards Alana, who is already taking slow steps in her direction. 

Because they’ve always gravitated towards each other. It couldn’t be any other way. 

Ilsa stops a good five steps in front of Alanna, and Alanna closes the gap to three steps, then two, and Ilsa’s brain goes completely blank for a second. 

A brief interlude in Ilsa’s brain to clear this all up: Of course she wants Alanna closer. She wants Alanna so close that there’s no space in between them, so close that she can feel Alanna’s breath on her skin, feel her heartbeat against Ilsa’s chest, and before Ilsa can continue that dangerous train of thought, Alanna reaches up and tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear before waltzing away. 

The crowd goes wild. Ilsa nearly faints. That’s not how it was supposed to go. 

She regains her composure within a second, but her heart still beats rapidly in her chest as she tries to move on from the moment. 

The rest of the song ends without a hitch, Ilsa only meeting Alanna’s gaze for moments at a time to avoid her cheeks heating up at the attention. She retreats to her guitar with a wide smile at the crowd and a smaller, more reassuring smile at Alanna as soon as her back is facing the crowd. Alanna smiles back, her eyes betraying her relief. 

As soon as they make it back to their rooms in the hotel, Ilsa immediately throws herself onto her bed, Grace trailing behind her. 

“That was a good show,” Grace says, hugging her pillow as she climbs onto her own bed. Ilsa mumbles something incoherent in response, and she hears Grace laugh brightly. 

“How do you still have so much energy?” Ilsa asks, barely lifting her head from her pillows, and Grace smiles shyly. 

“No reason,” she says, and Ilsa knows there’s more to that statement, but she decides to let it go and grill Grace on it tomorrow, when she’s in a full state of consciousness. She drags herself to the bathroom, scrubbing her stage makeup off and brushing her teeth before dragging herself to bed and passing out. 

She dreams of blonde hair and ice blue eyes.

Chapter Text

October 24

A week and a half later, they get a day off. Ilsa sleeps in, savoring the 9 o’clock wake up and hears a knock on her door half an hour later. 

She opens the door to see Alanna, blonde hair tied up in a messy bun with an oversized band tee and a pair of wide leg jeans.  

“You wanna do some sightseeing?” She asks, and Ilsa almost makes some comment about Ethan not taking part in the sightseeing, but she holds back and smiles. 

“Sounds fun, I’m in,” she says, and Alanna grins. 

“Meet me downstairs in ten?” She asks, and Ilsa nods. 

Ten minutes later, she’s standing downstairs in an oversized sweatshirt and jeans, two hats in hand because she knows Alanna always forgets hers. 

Predictably, Alanna comes down and makes it approximately five steps before Ilsa hears “Shit, I forgot my hat.” She wordlessly hands Alanna her second hat, and Alanna smiles, shaking her head as she pulls the hat over her head. “I don’t know what I would do without you,” she sighs as they head out, and Ilsa just laughs, trying to shake off the warmth that comes with that statement. 

The streets are crowded, and Ilsa finds herself losing sight of Alanna as they maneuver the crowded sidewalks. The next time she catches up to Alanna, Alanna wordlessly reaches for Ilsa’s hand, twining their fingers together and squeezing gently. Ilsa ignores the way her chest warms as the gesture, and she squeezes back, watching a small smile cross Alanna’s face. 

People are too busy going about their days to notice them, and Ilsa feels immense relief for that fact. She and Alanna can go places mostly unnoticed, and Alanna will offer a mysterious smile to anyone who does recognize them. They go shopping, Alanna finding the most glittery outfits and sending them to their stylist to see if they can wear them onstage, sending Ilsa into fits of giggles. 

After an hour or two, they come across a little hole in the wall jewelry store, and Alanna spots something in the window, immediately pulling Ilsa inside the store with her. 

“Friendship rings,” Alanna says simply with a smile as she takes two identical rings from the display, slipping one onto Ilsa’s finger and one onto her own. They’re beautiful; both silver with matching small engraved hearts on them and a small pink stone in the center. Ilsa has serious thoughts of proposing right then and there, but the thought passes as she realizes she should probably say something. 

“They’re beautiful,” Ilsa says, her smile matching Alanna’s. “Let’s get them,” she adds, and Alanna’s smile widens. 

The irony of the situation is so not lost on Ilsa as they pay for their rings, knowing full well that Ethan is probably waiting for Alanna at the hotel if his band is done with their recording session, but she doesn’t give it a second thought. This is her time to spend with Alanna, and she’ll be damned if she spends the whole time worrying about Ethan. 

Ilsa finds a small Chinese restaurant after that, and they sit in the corner, laughing about the tour so far and reminiscing on their time as a band. 

“I forgot to mention,” Ilsa starts after a lull in the conversation. “I rented a studio for a few hours this afternoon to just play around and chill if you want to come.” Alanna’s eyes widen halfway through a bite of food, and Ilsa finds it so adorable she just has to whip out her phone and snap a picture which she tucks away with a grin. 

“I’d love to,” Alanna says once she’s finished her bite of food, smiling slightly. “That’s a really good idea,” she adds, and Ilsa smiles. 

Alanna slides her hand into the crook of Ilsa’s arm and holds on as they make their way to the hotel to grab Ilsa’s guitar, then catch a taxi to the studio that Ilsa has rented. Ilsa ignores the warmth that spreads through her chest and threatens to spill onto her cheeks as she feels Alanna’s hand softly curled into her arm and the way Alanna’s body will linger closer to Ilsa’s as they reach the more crowded intersections. 

They finally reach the studio, and Alanna laughs affectionately as Ilsa ungracefully slides out of the taxi with her guitar. “You’re so protective of that thing,” she chuckles as Ilsa readjusts her grip on her guitar so it doesn’t hit the door frame as they walk through the door of the studio. 

“It’s new,” Ilsa protests, hugging the guitar before setting it down lightly on the floor, Alanna’s eyes following her with amusement. 

“If you insist,” Alanna says, perching herself on the piano bench in the corner and beginning to uncover the piano. 

There’s a moment of comfortable silence as Alanna keys out a few exploratory notes on the piano and Ilsa unzips her guitar case to reveal her light blue telecaster, which puts a smile on her face. 

“I’ve been working on this cover,” Ilsa starts as she begins to tune her guitar, and Alanna looks up from the piano, perking up with interest. “The song is 3AM by Rosé,” Ilsa says, suddenly a little self conscious as Alanna’s gaze flits over her. 

“I love that song,” Alanna’s smile softens as she pulls one leg up on the piano bench, resting her chin on her knee. “Can I hear it?” She asks after a second, and Ilsa flushes a delicate shade of pink. 

“Sure,” she says, adjusting her hold on her guitar and rummaging around in her guitar case for a pick. She comes up with a metallic silver one and gives the strings an experimental strum, smiling in satisfaction when they come out well-tuned. 

Alanna gives her an encouraging smile as Ilsa glances back at her, and it is so not lost on her that she’s about to sing this song in front of the very person she always envisioned while listening to it, her person. Ilsa might be sick. 

She starts the song a little shaky, a combination of nerves and Alanna’s eyes boring into her. She gains confidence after the first few lines, her voice getting louder and when she finally looks up a line before the chorus, Alanna is looking at her with the softest expression that Ilsa has ever seen, a small smile on her lips, and Ilsa’s voice nearly goes out as she meets Alanna’s gaze. 

I need you really, really that bad

I need you really, really that bad

She swallows the lump in her throat, pushing down the dangerous feelings threatening to rise as she looks away from Alanna, her focus moving down to the strings of her guitar in an attempt to clear her mind. 

Alanna is grinning from ear to ear as Ilsa finishes, untucking herself from her spot on the piano bench and giving her limbs a little shake. “That was amazing,” she grins as she slides onto the floor next to Ilsa. “I forget how much you can do with your hands,” she adds, and Ilsa nearly lets the intrusive thoughts win. Oh, you have no idea what I can do with my hands. 

“I was thinking of posting the cover, but I wasn’t sure if it would hit right,” Ilsa settles on instead, and Alanna’s face lights up. 

“You have to,” she says, eyes shining as she leans closer to Ilsa in excitement, who flushes a light shade of pink. “We should film it now,” Alanna says after a moment, reaching back to grab her phone. “Come on,” she says, and Ilsa scoots backwards until her back hits the mirror on the side of the studio opposite Alanna. 

Ilsa cradles her guitar in her lap as Alanna sets up the camera, her nails rapping lightly on the chrome of the guitar. Alanna finally holds up the camera with a smile. “Ready?” She asks, and Ilsa smiles shyly. 

“As I’ll ever be,” Ilsa says, and Alanna gives her a thumbs up as she presses record on her phone. Ilsa waits a few seconds, then starts. 

This time as Ilsa approaches the pre chorus, she allows a small smile to float over her lips. 

‘Cause nothing’s really perfect like that 

I need you really really that bad

She glances up at Alanna and the camera from under her lashes, and sees Alanna staring right back, a soft smile on her lips. 

I need you really really that bad

Ilsa’s smile blooms as she sings the chorus, sneaking another glance at Alanna as she nears the end, ignoring the fact that the lyrics she’s singing are once again a little too on the nose for her liking. 

The world can roll their eyes, but it’s no use

I just want it to be you 

It’s painful really, the way the woman of all her affections is sitting in front of her with absolutely no clue. 

Ilsa wants to cry. 

They do two takes of the cover and end up choosing the first one. Ilsa sends it off to the PR team, and as she hits send, Alanna lets out a small gasp. 

“I forgot to mention,” she says, turning to Ilsa who pockets her phone. “Remember how we had to drop that one song because it was in an odd key for both of us?” She asks, and Ilsa nods. “Well, I found a song to replace it.” 

“Seriously?” Ilsa asks, and Alanna smiles sheepishly. 

“It’s called Shutdown,” she says. “There’s just a little problem with it…” she trails off, almost seeming a bit embarrassed. 

“Which is?” Ilsa prompts, searching Alanna’s eyes for any indication of what it is. 

“It’s in Korean,” Alanna finally gives in, and Ilsa’s mouth forms a little o in surprise. 

“Can I hear it?” She asks, and Alanna nods, pulling out her phone. She presses play, and Ilsa curls up against the mirror as Alanna starts the song, sitting down against the wall opposite Ilsa. 

“It’s a gorgeous song,” Ilsa murmurs once it’s done, and Alanna smiles softly. “What do the lyrics mean?” She asks, pulling out her phone to look it up, and Alanna’s look of peace turns to one of slight panic. 

“It’s about–” she starts before shaking her head. “I guess you’ll see,” she says as Ilsa types the name of the song into her search bar, raising an eyebrow. 

“Is it that bad?” She asks, glancing up at Alanna. “We’ll probably have to translate it to sing it,” she adds, clicking on the translated version.

“Yeah, Brandt will have to okay it too,” Alanna says, watching Ilsa for any reaction. 

“It seems fine,” Ilsa says as she reads through the first few lines. 

“How far in are you?” Alanna asks, and she has her answer as Ilsa looks up, a slightly startled look on her face and a blush on her cheeks. 

“She said you can ruin me,” Ilsa quotes the song, glancing at Alanna. “How much more obvious can we get?” She asks, and Alanna scooches across the room to look over her shoulder at the translated lyrics. She leans over Ilsa, resting her chin on Ilsa’s shoulder, and scrolls down to the second verse. 

“It gets a little more metaphorical, but–”

“Oh,” Ilsa says, her brain registering both the meaning of the lyrics and Alanna’s sudden proximity. 

“We can find a different one if you want,” Alanna says, her worried gaze peering up at Ilsa from her head’s perch on Ilsa’s shoulder. Ilsa scrolls a little further down, then back up to the top to read it all over again. 

“I like it,” Ilsa says finally, and she can feel Alanna’s grin against her shoulder. “Let’s do it,” she adds, and Alanna glances up at her. 

“You’re serious?” She asks, and Ilsa nods. “You’re sure?” She presses, a little softer, and Ilsa nods, resisting the urge to just lean down and kiss Alanna in reassurance. 

“I’m as sure as I can be,” Ilsa says earnestly, and Alanna’s grin softens. 

“There’s probably a sea of logistics we’ll have to go through to get permission to perform it, but I’ll see what Will can do about it,” Alanna says as she leans into the mirror behind them, removing herself from Ilsa’s shoulder in the process. 

“We could probably reach out to the artist herself, right?” Ilsa asks, and Alanna hums in agreement. 

“We’ll figure it out,” she says, confidently enough for Ilsa to believe her, standing with a small sigh and stretching her limbs. Alanna’s phone pings in her hand and she glances at it, her eyes widening in surprise. “I almost forgot,” she manages out, a laugh escaping her at the same time. 

“What?” Ilsa asks, pushing off the mirror to stand. 

“I have a date with Ethan tonight,” Alanna says, and it’s like the last few hours are sucked out of Ilsa with those seven words. 

“Really?” Ilsa asks, trying to sound excited as she struggles for words. “Where are you going?” She asks, watching as a small smile lights Alanna’s face.  

“Some Italian place,” Alanna says almost passively. “I don’t really know actually. He said he knew of a place,” she says, putting the last few words in air quotes with a laugh. “I trust him though,” she adds. “Actually,” she says after a moment while Ilsa is still struggling for words. “I was wondering if you wanted to help me get ready? I have no idea what I’m going to wear,” she says, and Ilsa barely has time to process the request before she nods her affirmative. 

“Of course,” she says with a smile, and Alanna’s face brightens. 

“Thank you,” she says, a little softer, and Ilsa feels herself melt a little. 

“Anytime,” Ilsa says, already regretting her decision. What the hell, maybe it’ll be fun, she sighs to herself as Alanna’s attention turns back to the piano. There’s a silence that sits between them before Alanna speaks again. 

“I’ve been trying to get some songs written out over this whole tour, but all I can come up with are some random tunes,” Alanna says, playing out a few keys on the piano, followed by a couple of chords. She looks up at Ilsa, whose eyes are slightly wide in disbelief. 

“I’ve been having the exact opposite problem,” she says, and Alanna breaks out into a disbelieving grin. 

“Seriously?” She asks, and Ilsa nods. “Can I see some of what you’ve written?” Alanna asks after a moment. “Maybe some of it will fit with what I have,” she adds. 

“Sure,” Ilsa says after a moment, rummaging around in her bag for her notebook and pen, very conscious of the fact that the majority of what she has written is about Alanna herself. 

Alanna slides over on the bench to make room for Ilsa and she waits patiently as Ilsa flips a few pages to her latest scribbling. Ilsa holds out the lines for her to see, and Alanna reads over them intently, once, then twice, before absentmindedly pressing some keys on the piano. 

“I think you’re onto something,” Alanna finally says, and Ilsa releases a small breath. “They have the weight and the rhyme scheme of a chorus,” she adds after a moment, playing out a chord or two. 

“I had meant them for that,” Ilsa murmurs, and Alanna smiles. “I was thinking maybe we could do a softer verse and then something harder like this for the chorus.” 

“The lyrics are kind of bitter,” Alanna says with a wry smile. “Who hurt you?” She asks with a small chuckle, a hint of genuine concern in her eyes, and Ilsa looks down, a small smile playing on her lips. 

You. You and your stupid flirty smile and gorgeous face and the way you always pay attention to the details and how your head fits so perfectly on my shoulder and the fact that I’ve fallen in love with you and I have no idea how to fall out of it. 

“It’s just been on my mind recently I guess,” Ilsa says with a shrug. “Unrequited love and that kind of stuff,” she adds, and Alanna seems to still for a moment. 

“I can’t imagine anyone you would like who wouldn’t already be in love with you,” Alanna says with a small grin, nudging Ilsa. Ilsa smiles, and the irony of the situation is so not lost on her as she glances at the lyrics. 

“She’s a bit hard to read,” Ilsa says. “Very pretty head, but it’s impossible to tell what’s going on in there.” Alanna laughs, rich and light. 

“Sounds like you found yourself a toughie,” she laughs, and Ilsa allows herself a small smile. 

“You have no idea,” she says, shaking her head slightly, a smile still playing on her lips. 

They play around a little more, and before Ilsa knows it they’re leaving the building with the rough draft of half a song pieced together. 

The topic of conversation floats back to Ethan as they reach the hotel, and Ilsa finds a convenient excuse to drop her guitar off in her room with a promise to meet Alanna in her room in fifteen minutes. 

Grace is in the bathroom applying a layer of lipstick when Ilsa walks in, and Ilsa immediately abandons her plans of wallowing in misery on her bed to interrogate Grace about her apparent plans. 

“I’m just going to dinner with Paris,” she insists, and Ilsa’s smirk grows. 

“As in a date?” She asks, and Grace flushes pink. 

“No,” she protests. “Okay, maybe if all goes well by the end of the night it will be,” she says after a few moments and Ilsa breaks out into a huge grin. 

“Finally,” she crows, and Grace turns pink again. 

“What do you mean finally?” She asks, and Ilsa shoots her a pointed look. 

“You guys have been dancing around this basically forever,” Ilsa says, disbelief creeping into her voice. “You haven’t noticed the way she always looks at you?” Grace shakes her head slightly. 

“How?” She asks. 

“Like you hung the stars,” Ilsa says with a small chuckle. “It’s adorable.” Grace flushes a deep shade of pink, and turns back to the mirror. 

“What are you doing tonight?” Grace asks in an attempt to change the subject. 

“Probably sitting around and watching TV,” Ilsa says, a wry smile on her face. “Alanna did ask me to help her get ready for her date tonight though so…” she trails off as Grace turns to stare wide eyed at her.

“You’re serious?” She asks, and Ilsa nods. “Are you going to help her?” She asks, and Ilsa nods. “Wow,” Grace says. She reaches out to squeeze Ilsa’s shoulder after a moment, eyes saying all she needs to. 

“If you can’t beat them, join them,” Ilsa offers up weakly, and Grace chuckles. 

“You’ll make her look good,” Grace says as she turns back to the mirror. “At least we can guarantee that. You’re easily the only member of this band who stares at her constantly,” she adds, and Ilsa swats at her. 

“I don’t stare at her that much,” she insists, and Grace just laughs. 

“You keep on telling yourself that,” Grace says, snapping the lid back on her lipstick tube, a mischievous grin on her lips. 

“Mean,” Ilsa pouts, wandering out of the bathroom. “I’m gonna go help her get ready now,” she says as Grace steps out behind her, and Grace grins. 

“Try not to stare too much, she’s spoken for,” she teases, and Ilsa pulls a face. 

“Go worry about getting your own girl,” she says defiantly, pulling the door closed behind her. Ilsa has to take a couple of deep breaths before she knocks on the door to Alanna and Paris’s room. Alanna opens the door halfway, her face lighting up in a smile as soon as she sees Ilsa. 

“I almost thought you abandoned me,” she says, half teasing, as she opens the door wider for Ilsa to come in. “Paris is in the bathroom getting ready for something she won’t tell me about,” she adds, and Ilsa laughs. Alanna shoots her a curious look. “Do you know?” She asks.

“You’ll know by tomorrow,” Ilsa says reassuringly, and Alanna doesn’t press, changing the topic effortlessly. 

“I have a few very vague ideas on what to wear, and I’m just hoping everything else falls into place after that,” Alanna informs Ilsa, who laughs. 

“Nothing quite like going in without a plan,” Ilsa says, and Alanna scrunches her nose at her. 

“It’s my specialty,” Alanna says, grabbing the top three items out of her suitcase. “Now,” she starts, turning towards Ilsa. “There’s a dress and two not dresses.” 

A whole half hour later, Alanna has decided on the dress, and Ilsa is standing behind her in the cramped space of the bathroom, looking at her collection of jewelry. 

“It’s too much, isn’t it?” Alanna asks, draping a necklace over the dress, and Ilsa hums in thought. 

“I don’t think so,” she says, trying very hard not to look down where Alanna’s cleavage is on full display. “It suits the outfit,” she adds when Alanna still doesn’t seem convinced. “And it matches your eyes.” 

“You really think so?” Alanna asks, and Ilsa nods earnestly. “Okay, I’ll wear it,” she says, and Ilsa smiles. 

“Here, give it to me,” she says softly, and Alanna hands the ends of the necklace to her, sweeping her hair up to the side to expose the back of her neck. Ilsa wraps the ends of the necklace around her neck, taking care to be gentle as her hand barely ghosts over Alanna’s skin. She fumbles with the clasp for a second, her fingers brushing Alanna’s neck, and she murmurs a quick apology as she finally gets the hook through the hole. Her hands float over Alanna’s shoulders, resting there for a second as she looks over Alanna’s shoulder to meet her gaze in the mirror. 

“He better not ruin things with you,” Ilsa murmurs, and Alanna smiles, shaking her head. She turns to Ilsa, and for a split second, their faces are so achingly close that Ilsa knows she could just lean in and vanquish the space between them, press her lips to Alanna’s, put all her fantasies to rest. Alanna looks almost as if she realizes the same, her eyes dipping south of Ilsa’s eyes, but the moment passes as Alanna’s phone pings, no doubt a text from Ethan waiting for her. 

“Do I look okay?” Alanna asks, twirling for Ilsa as she grabs her phone. 

“Are you really asking me that?” Ilsa responds. “You know you do,” she says a bit softer after a moment, and when Alanna smiles, Ilsa sees a sliver of something that looks like doubt in her eyes. “You always do,” Ilsa adds despite her every instinct screaming at her not to, and Alanna’s smile deepens, the corners of her eyes crinkling. Ilsa decides then and there that it was worth it. 

“Okay then, I’m off,” Alanna says, and Ilsa reaches out instinctually to pull her in for a hug. 

“Have fun,” Ilsa murmurs, her nose buried in Alanna’s wavy blonde hair as Alanna squeezes her back. “Well, not too much fun if you know what I mean,” she adds cheekily as they pull back, and Alanna swats at her, unable to hold her laughter. 

“No promises,” Alanna throws over her shoulder, grabbing her coat and bag. Ilsa follows her into the hallway, stopping at her room across the hall as Alanna waits for the elevator. She offers Alanna one last smile before disappearing inside her room, immediately crashing onto her bed as soon as the door closes. 

“Fuck,” is the only word she can manage into her pillow, and she lays there for a few more moments, the scent of Alanna’s heavy perfume still invading her space. 

Her phone buzzes, and she turns over onto her side to see that it’s a text from their PR manager, okaying the cover from earlier in the day for her to post. Ilsa sighs deeply, thinking about the day with Alanna again before she busies herself with posting the video, tagging the necessary people and captioning it with a simple pink heart. 

A heart for the girl who stole mine, she thinks with a bitter chuckle as she tucks her phone away, laying back on her bed and staring up at the ceiling. A pity she won’t give it back.

Chapter Text

They’re back on the road again the next morning, and Ilsa is somehow the first on the bus. She takes a seat in the middle, curling up next to the window with a small sigh. Barely a minute later, Grace and Paris are trudging on board, and Ilsa nearly gets whiplash with how fast she sits up. 

Grace’s cheeks are an adorable shade of pink as she laughs softly at something Paris said, and Ilsa looks down to where their hands are gently twined together. She catches Grace’s eye, raising an eyebrow in a silent question, and Grace nods shyly. 

“I’m proud of you guys,” Ilsa says as they both slide into the row across from her, and Paris smiles. 

“Thank you,” she says, and Grace echoes the sentiment, already curling into Paris’s side a bit, offering her an earbud. Ilsa turns back to her window, digging around in her bag for her notebook when Alanna boards the bus, and Ilsa’s heart betrays her as it skips a beat at the sight of Alanna in her glasses and slightly messy hair. Alanna offers her a small lopsided smile, but says nothing and takes the seat in front of Ilsa. Ilsa opts to wait until they’re all more awake to ask about her date with Ethan. 

In the meantime, she opens her phone to see a flood of notifications from various social media sights about her cover and sighs. Opening one comment section, she sees a startling amount of people commenting on the reflection of a woman in the mirror behind her. Alanna. Ilsa sighs and leans back in her seat. How the fuck did they even figure that out? 

The rest of the comments range from complimenting her outfit to calling her voice angelic (which is a bit of a stretch, but Ilsa takes the compliments either way), and she finally puts her phone away to try and take a nap as the bus starts rolling. 

________________

Four days later, Ilsa is in deeper than she’d like to admit. 

Not only is it approaching the time for her duet with Alanna, but this time Ethan has been roped into singing with them (“You can’t sing a trio with two people,” Will had shrugged when he told them, and Ilsa would have argued that to her grave if it weren’t for Alanna’s radiant smile at the news that he was involved.) 

They’ve had multiple rehearsals for the newly formed trio, but Ilsa still can’t help but feel a nausea stir in her gut every time Alanna and Ethan exchange those sickly sweet, lovey-dovey glances. To their credit, they’re handling the situation well, and Ilsa only feels like a third wheel sixty percent of the time rather than a hundred. 

It’s still painful though. 

Especially since Alanna still uses every and any part of Ilsa’s body as a pillow, her blonde hair fanning out around Ilsa’s lap or down her shoulder when she gets bored. There’s one rehearsal where it’s just the two of them and Ilsa feels lighter than she has in ages as Alanna misses her cue for the third time that day and the two of them just burst into a fit of slightly delirious giggles. 

It becomes easier and easier for Ilsa to trick herself into thinking she doesn’t have any feelings for Alanna despite the way she still can’t help the overwhelming affection that threatens to spill every time Alanna gets whiny when she’s tired and the way her heart pounds in her chest when Alanna gets too close. 

The real kicker comes when they reach their next venue and Will hands out room assignments. “Can I get a drumroll?” He asks, and Paris just stares at him, barely holding back an amused smile. “Fine then, be boring,” he says with a chuckle, pulling out his phone. “We’re switching it up this week, so Ilsa you’re with Alanna and Grace you’re with Paris. Try not to go crazy,” he says with a pointed look at Grace and Paris who are busy exchanging their own meaningful glances. 

Ilsa is consciously aware of the way Alanna’s face lights up, and she turns to Ilsa with a grin. 

“You already know I wake up at–”

“Six thirty for the eight o’clock soundchecks?” Ilsa finishes, and Alanna laughs delightedly, shooting Ilsa a surprised glance. 

“You remembered?” She says, and Ilsa arches an eyebrow. 

“How could I not remember it?” Ilsa shoots back playfully. “We were the first ones on the bus, and then you would complain about being tired,” she adds, and Alanna frowns. Ilsa’s about to reassure her that she’ll suffer through the early alarm for her when Ethan and his band arrive in the lobby, and Ilsa loses Alanna almost immediately. 

“Are you gonna let Ethan into your room?” Grace asks, sidling up next to Ilsa, and Ilsa turns to her with a look of surprise. “They’re basically a package deal at this point,” Grace shrugs, and Ilsa lets out a puff of air. 

“I love him dearly, but no,” she says, and Grace laughs. 

“How’s it going with…” she trails off, eyeing Alanna, who is now laughing with Benji about something, Ethan hovering behind her. 

“In regards to that, I have a question,” Ilsa says seriously, and Grace turns to her, chocolate brown eyes wide. “How long do you think I,” she pauses, gesturing between Alanna and herself, trying to find the right words. “Liked her for?” She settles on, cringing at the lack of eloquence. 

“In all honesty?” Grace asks, and Ilsa nods. “I’d have to say… A year maybe? At least a few months,” she adds. “You got really clingy at some point and I kind of assumed it was a thing then because Alanna was really clingy too, but then when you guys started doing the songs together it just kind of…accelerated my theory,” she finishes. 

“A year?” Ilsa asks, still trying to process this new information. Grace hums in affirmation before her eyes light up and she pulls out her phone. 

“I actually have a few photos that I kept for–” she stops herself, and Ilsa cocks an eyebrow. “For whenever you guys got your shit together,” Grace continues with a small laugh, scrolling until she finds what she's looking for, then turning the phone to Ilsa. 

It’s a photo of Ilsa and Alanna well before the tour, and just before they had dropped their new album. Alanna is in the recording studio and Ilsa is sitting outside on the bench with the softest smile on her face as she watches an oblivious Alanna record some finishing touches. Paris is next to her, scrolling through something on her phone, but Ilsa looks as if she’s in some sort of trance just watching Alanna. 

Ilsa remembers the day vaguely because they were all exhausted and she had all but fainted when she got home, but all she can focus on in the picture is the way she looks at Alanna and fuck, is that seriously how I look at her? 

Grace must sense her wheels turning because she swipes, and now it’s a photo of them in a practice room, splayed out over the floor. Grace’s feet are visible, and Paris is starfishing a meter away, but Alanna is curled on Ilsa’s lap, staring up at her with a dazed expression, as if Ilsa were something celestial. Ilsa’s heart clenches just looking at it, and a pressed smile slips through her lips. 

“Oh,” she says softly, and Grace withdraws her phone, tucking it away.

“For what it’s worth,” Grace says softly, looking at Ilsa earnestly. “I think at some point in time, through the course of all of this, there was just her and you. And call it what you want, but to me it looked damn close to love.” Ilsa swallows, looking down, and all of a sudden there’s a lump rising in her throat, a heaviness as she processes Grace’s words. 

Grace gives her a small squeeze before heading over to where Paris is, and Ilsa is left with a shitload of new information and a rising lump in her throat. Great. 

They’re all settled just in time for dinner, and Ilsa finds a decently healthy looking fast food place for them to order from. The room is freezing for some reason, and Ilsa ends up on the small chair in the corner of the room with her whole duvet on top of her, while Alanna is burrowed under the sheets of her bed with the top of her head barely sticking out. 

Grace and Paris stop by, Grace looking like a human marshmallow with the amount of clothes she has on, while Paris has opted to just wrap herself in as many blankets as humanly possible. 

“I don’t know if I’m going to make it through the night with this type of cold,” Grace sighs, grabbing a handful of fries. 

“Apparently sharing body heat helps,” Paris offers, snuggling further into Grace’s side. “Looks like we’ll be sharing a bed tonight,” she adds wryly, and Grace laughs. 

“If it weren’t so cold I would think you meant that another way,” she says, and Paris smirks. Ilsa sneaks a glance at Alanna who looks unusually flustered at the duo’s antics. 

They crowd together on the floor of Ilsa and Alanna’s room to watch a movie, and by the time Ilsa manages to pull up the movie Alanna is fully snuggled into her side, Grace into Alanna’s and Paris into Grace’s as if they’re forming some sort of human lump. 

There’s a knock on the door and Ilsa groans. “Not it,” she says immediately and Paris sighs, detangling herself from Grace who whines in complaint as Paris pads to the door. 

“Hey,” Ethan stands at the door sheepishly with Benji behind him, and Ilsa can feel Grace's eyes on her. Alanna seems to stiffen a bit next to Ilsa, and Ilsa is torn between leaning away from her or hugging her protectively closer as Ethan takes all of them in.

“Can we come in?” Benji asks from behind him, and Paris opens the door wider as Ilsa nods. “We figured the more people the more heat,” Benji adds. 

“Hopefully they’ll get the heaters fixed by tomorrow,” Alanna says, her voice slightly muffled by her position in Ilsa’s side. Grace holds her arm out from her blanket mountain, making puppy eyes at Paris who smiles, settling back into her side. Ilsa sneaks a glance at Alanna who is looking at the duo with an amused smile, fondness clear in her eyes. 

Ethan settles in the space below Alanna, Benji curling up next to him. One of Alanna’s hands works its way to his shoulder, squeezing gently, and the other slides across Ilsa’s lap, Alanna’s head following until half her upper body is curled over Ilsa’s legs. Ilsa can’t stop the fond smile that works its way onto her face as the blonde makes a little noise of contentment. 

Alanna looks up at her, eyes almost innocently wide, and Ilsa tilts her head down so that her hair falls around Alanna, who smiles in sleepy satisfaction. She wiggles a little further into Ilsa, who has to bite her lip to hide the grin threatening to grow on her face.

People start filtering out halfway through the movie, and Ilsa turns it off when there’s half an hour left. Ethan kisses Alanna goodnight very sweetly, and Ilsa thinks she would have appreciated it more were Alanna not still curled up on her lap, one of Ilsa’s hands still absentmindedly running through her hair. 

“I’m just gonna sleep like this,” Alanna declares once she shows Ethan to the door, and Ilsa nods. 

“There’s no way I’m getting out of my blankets just to change,” she agrees, crawling onto her bed. Alanna hums in agreement, turning all the lamps off.

“G’night,” Alanna murmurs from her bed, and Ilsa smiles in the dark. 

“Good night,” she whispers back. 

Twenty minutes later, she’s still very much awake and still too cold to sleep. She contemplates trying to see if Alanna’s awake, but she’s beaten to the punch when a rustling of blankets comes from the direction of Alanna’s bed, followed by Alanna’s voice, scratchy with tiredness. 

“Can’t sleep either?” She asks, and Ilsa hums in affirmation. 

“Too cold,” Ilsa says, and Alanna is quiet for a moment. 

“Come here,” she says finally, and suddenly Ilsa is wide awake. “Come here,” Alanna says again. “It’ll help. Sharing body heat and all that stuff?” Ilsa doesn’t move for a second, but her need for warmth gets the best of her, and she shuffles over to Alanna’s bed, barely a meter away. 

“You know I don’t bite,” Alanna says, a hint of amusement in her voice, and Ilsa laughs, hoping Alanna can’t hear the nerves in her voice. She scoots closer, and closer, until Alanna just wraps an arm around her middle and brings them flush together, Ilsa’s head resting in the space under Alanna’s chin. It’s nice .

Ilsa lays there a bit awkwardly before chiding herself to get your shit together, you’re not some lovesick teenager and drapes an arm over Alanna’s middle, pulling her blanket over the both of them. Alanna smiles into the top of her head, and Ilsa snuggles a little more comfortably into her. 

“Told you I don’t bite,” Alanna murmurs. “Unless you want me to,” she adds after a second, and Ilsa is positively mortified until Alanna’s laugh is ringing out between them, and Alanna squeezes Ilsa gently. 

“That— you—“ Ilsa barely manages out, deeply grateful for the dark room that hides her flaming cheeks. 

“I was joking,” Alanna says once her laughter subsides, and Ilsa manages a smile into the crook of Alanna’s neck. 

“I know,” she says, adjusting her arm’s hold on Alanna. Alanna falls quiet for a second, and Ilsa can feel Alanna’s nose burrow into her hair. She swears she feels Alanna’s lips press a soft kiss to her head, but in the morning she’ll dismiss it as tired delirium. 

“G’night,” Alanna murmurs into her hair, and Ilsa smiles sleepily into Alanna’s collarbone where her face has landed. 

“Sleep well,” she whispers. 

Ilsa wakes up to the sound of Alanna’s alarm with her face nuzzled in the crook of Alanna’s neck, Alanna’s arms wrapped around her and their legs tangled together. For one terrifying moment, Ilsa wonders if anything happened between them, but then Alanna reaches away from her, letting some cold air slip through the cracks of their blanket pile, and Ilsa remembers the night before, relaxing a bit. Alanna fumbles with her alarm until the sound goes off, groaning. 

“We have the photoshoot today,” she mumbles, and Ilsa pulls the covers further over her head. 

“I dissent,” she mumbles into the sheets, which Alanna peels off of her, eliciting a whine from Ilsa. 

“Come on,” Alanna says, amusement shining in her eyes. “We don’t even have to do makeup before we go, they’re doing it at the shoot.” 

“Fine, you win,” Ilsa says, sitting up. Alanna grins. 

“Let’s go,” she says, holding out her hand to Ilsa, who takes it and tugs. Alanna heaves her up, and Ilsa hisses once her feet hit solid ground. 

“I’m regretting my decision already,” she pouts, and Alanna just grins. 

“You can have the bathroom first if you want,” she says, and Ilsa immediately cheers up, already heading in the direction of the bathroom. 

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” She asks, batting her eyelashes exaggeratedly. Alanna just shakes her head in defeat before Ilsa closes the door behind her. 

When she emerges, Alanna is laying on the bed, eyes closed with the covers piled on top of her. Ilsa lets out a small puff of amusement before she crawls onto the bed, climbing on top of Alanna. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” she whispers, and Alanna’s eyes flutter open, then quickly close again. 

“I need a prince to wake me up,” she says, and Ilsa feels a small pang in her heart. 

“Shall I go get Ethan then?” She asks, half joking, and Alanna opens one eye, looking straight at Ilsa. 

“A princess would do too,” she says, and Ilsa nearly chokes on air. It’s well known that Alanna’s bisexual, but she still wasn’t expecting Alanna to actually bring it up now. 

“Hmm, I’m sure,” Ilsa says, and Alanna still doesn’t move. She sighs, pushing down the sudden butterflies threatening to burst out of her stomach, and leans down to place a kiss on Alanna’s cheek. Ilsa pulls back, her heart beating faster than she would like, and a small smile graces Alanna’s face as she opens her eyes. 

“Alright, I’m getting up,” she says, Ilsa’s brain still processing what she’s just done. Alanna waltzes into the bathroom, leaving Ilsa standing in between their beds, her brain unable to function. What did I just do?

__________

Naturally, Paris corners her as soon as they reach the photoshoot site and Grace and Alanna are pulled away to get their hair and makeup done. 

“How was your night?” She asks, and that’s all it takes for the story to come pouring out of Ilsa. Paris listens intently, smiling when Ilsa recounts the sharing of the bed, and laughing when Ilsa begrudgingly retells Alanna’s joke. 

“And now I just don’t know what to think,” Ilsa finishes the long winded story. “She still has a boyfriend, you know. They were all cute during the two seconds they saw each other in the lobby this morning, but I just can’t get her out of my head!”

“Well the fact that you kind of have to spend every waking moment with her doesn’t help,” Paris supplies, and Ilsa sighs. “If it’s any consolation, I know we have a decent break between this leg and the next leg of the tour, so maybe you’ll get over her then,” Paris adds. Ilsa smiles. 

“Hopefully,” she says as Grace and Alanna come back from the chairs, and Paris smiles softly at Grace as they get up to switch places. Alanna doesn’t say anything to Ilsa, just regards her with a slightly pensive look and a small smile that scares Ilsa more than if she had said anything. 

They start on group shots, and Ilsa quickly finds herself directed close to Alanna, shoulders touching, heads angled in and foreheads a hair apart. 

“Why does this feel like some sort of fancy family photo?” Grace asks in between camera clicks, and Ilsa’s smile slips into something more genuine as she prepares herself to say something incredibly cheesy. 

“Because we are a family,” Alanna says in an excessively dramatic and very overdone tone, beating Ilsa to the punch, and the next thing they know Ilsa is wheezing on the floor in laughter, the rest of the band dragged along with her. 

“I was going to say that,” Ilsa says as she gets her breath back, taking Alanna’s proffered hand to pull herself up. 

“Great minds think alike,” Alanna grins, and Ilsa realizes how close they actually are, her hand still gripping Alanna’s, their chests mere centimeters apart. Grace makes a small noise from the side of Ilsa and she snaps out of it, dropping Alanna’s hand in a way she hopes doesn't seem too abrupt, and turning back to the camera for further direction. 

_________________

Three long hours later they’re done, and Ilsa makes a beeline for the van, curling up happily  in her seat as the rest of the band filters in. 

“We have a meeting with the Korean artist in a few hours,” Alanna reminds her, sliding in next to her. “Just to figure out how to tweak the lyrics in English. Paris offered to translate,” she adds, and Ilsa nods. 

“Sounds good,” she says, offering Alanna a small smile before she hits play on her phone and lets her music carry her off. 

________________

“I guess it’s nine in Korea right now,” Ilsa murmurs as they log onto the call from their room, Paris behind them with Grace tucked into her side. Alanna hums in agreement as she props the camera up in front of them. The wheel on Alanna’s phone screen spins for a few moments before the screen lights up with the image of a vibrantly red haired, brown eyed woman smiling at them. That must be Moonbyul then, Ilsa muses, studying the pretty features of her face, the wide eyes behind her wire rimmed glasses and the gentle curve of her lips. 

“안녕하세요,” Paris says, beating Ilsa and Alanna to the chase of greeting her, and Moonbyul lights up with one of the sweetest smiles Ilsa’s ever seen. 

“안녕하세요, 만나서 반갑습니다,” she says, and Ilsa glances at Alanna. She has a sexy voice. Alanna shoots her a look back, most definitely thinking the same thing, and Ilsa smirks. Paris wraps up the small talk in Korean just as another woman enters the frame, honey brown hair, a warm smile, and dark eyes to contrats Moonbyul’s soft ones. She bows slightly to the camera, murmuring what Ilsa assumes to be a greeting before taking a seat next to Moonbyul. 

“I think that’s one of the other members of her group,” Alanna whispers to her. “I did some research on them in the car.” Ilsa nods, studying the duo as the brunette hands Moonbyul a coffee cup, which the red haired woman accepts with a small smile and a teasing gesture. Moonbyul says something else to Paris, who nods and turns to translate. 

“Her name is Yongsun, she’s the oldest member of their group,” Paris informs them, and Ilsa offers her a small wave from behind Paris. Yongsun waves back shyly, tucking herself slightly into Moonbyul’s side as she grabs a sheet of the lyrics. 

“Should we start?” Moonbyul asks in near perfect English, and Alanna shoots Ilsa an impressed look. 

“Sounds good to me,” she says. “We did a little translating on our own, but we hit a little trouble at the second verse,” she says, and Paris translates for them. 

“The rap part,” Yongsun pipes up in English next to Moonbyul, eyes shining. Alanna nods, a smile playing at her lips. 

“It’ll be Ilsa’s, so we can make it as complicated as we want,” she says, and Ilsa whines in complaint, lightly hitting Alanna’s shoulder. “We can show you what we translated first though? Just to make sure you like it,” she adds, pulling up their demo on her phone, and Moonbyul nods. 

A very productive hour later, they’ve taken a short break and Paris is conversing with the duo in Korean. 

“좀 이상하게 들릴지 모르지만, 그들은 사귀고 있는 걸까요?" ^[1]Moonbyul asks, and Paris laughs brightly. Yongsun lightly whacks Moonbyul on the arm, saying something that sounds like scolding. Paris leans over to whisper a translation to Grace, who lights up, whispering something to Paris who delightedly translates. 

“복잡하지만, 그들이 했으면 좋겠습니다,” ^[2]she says, and Ilsa waits for the translation, but she gets none. “Don’t worry about it,” Paris says when Ilsa shoots her a questioning look. When she looks back at the camera, Moonbyul seems to be looking at her with a newfound softness, and she can only hope that Paris said something good. 

Alanna curls up on the floor next to Ilsa as they reconvene, her head resting gently on Ilsa’s shoulder. On the other end of the line, Moonbyul seems to have completely molded to Yongsun’s body so that there’s virtually no space between them, Yongsun showing Moonbyul something on her phone that elicits a laugh from both of them. It vaguely reminds Ilsa of the picture Grace had shown her in the lobby a few days ago, and she wonders if she’s not the only one stuck in that situation. 

“Should we finish up the last verse?” Alanna asks, and Moonbyul nods as Yongsun tucks her phone away. 

“This part especially, is especially…” Moonbyul pauses and murmurs a word to Yongsun who blushes, shrugs, then says it to Paris, who smirks slightly. 

“Erotic,” she says, and Ilsa nods slowly. 

“Right,” Alanna says, glancing at Ilsa. Ilsa feels something curl in her stomach as she meets Alanna’s gaze. It’s over in a second as Alanna looks away, back at the screen, but the feeling in Ilsa’s stomach’s remains and she sighs. “We should keep that feeling,” Alanna adds after a moment, and Ilsa nods again. 

“I don’t want to misinterpret it, but the song is about…” she trails off, looking at Alanna, who gestures for her to go on. “It’s about two women, right?” She asks, and Paris doesn’t need to translate before Moonbyul nods, a small smile forming on her lips. 

“It is hard… for people to be like that here, so I wanted to show that it’s a beautiful thing, to be able to love in a different way,” she says, and Ilsa doesn’t miss the way Yongsun’s eyes seem to go soft at that, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Alanna’s hand finds Ilsa’s and squeezes. “It’s also an 18+ song, so,” Moonbyul laughs, and Ilsa sees Yongsun blush. 

“We’ll keep it that way,” Alanna says with a wry grin, and as Paris translates Moonbyul laughs. 

“Good,” she says. They finish up the rest of the song after that, a comfortable closeness settling between them as Moonbyul and Alanna bounce ideas off of each other, Ilsa and Yongsun settling into a competition of who can make their bandmate laugh first. 

When they finally log off it’s nearing midnight, and the last few lines of the song look pretty incoherent, but Ilsa is too tired to care. Grace and Paris leave, Paris waving goodbye and promising to meet them the next day while Grace murmurs a sleepy agreement, latched onto Paris’s arm like a koala. 

Ilsa tucks herself into bed with a contented sigh as Alanna turns the lights off. “That was surprisingly fun,” she murmurs after she hears the telltale rustling of Alanna’s sheets that tell her Alanna is in bed. 

“They were so sweet,” Alanna says. “Do you think they’re together?” She asks Ilsa after a second, and Ilsa laughs softly. 

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she says. “They seemed so in sync.” Alanna hums in agreement. 

“Do you think people see that in us?” Alanna asks, and Ilsa is rendered completely speechless. “I’ve seen the fan edits,” Alanna adds. Ilsa opens her mouth but can’t form words, her brain still catching up with Alanna’s words. 

“I don’t know,” she says finally, and Alanna lets out a soft noise of thought. 

“It’s funny,” she says softly. “You me and Ethan doing ‘What if I never get over you.’ It’s supposed to be a breakup song, yet here we are, best friends and a couple.” Ilsa hums in thought. 

“I would say it’s also about unrequited love,” she offers. “You know, liking someone near you who doesn’t feel the same way. And then having to be close to them and trying to get over them.” The sheets rustle lightly on Alanna’s side, and then Alanna’s phone flashlight lights up, and Ilsa can see the soft inquisitiveness in her eyes. “What was that for?” Ilsa asks, and Alanna shrugs languidly, her mussed blonde hair sliding off her shoulders at the movement.

“I just wanted to see you,” she says simply. “You’ve thought about this a lot, haven't you?” She adds, and Ilsa shrugs, trying to play off the fact that she’s all but spilled the fact that she’s fallen in love with her best friend who is laying in bed barely a meter in front of her. 

“I guess I’ve been looking at the lyrics too much,” she says, and Alanna doesn’t press any further, just smiles softly before turning her phone light off. 

“G’night,” Alanna whispers after a moment, and Ilsa smiles softly to herself. 

“Good night,” she whispers back. You know I’ll dream of you. 

Chapter Text

They call a last minute rehearsal for the cover at Alanna’s insistence, which mainly consists of Ilsa messing up her lines because she’s staring at the curve of Alanna’s neck and thinking about the early morning rasp of her voice, while Alanna and Ethan have begun making intense eye contact every time one of them opens their mouth. By the half hour mark, Ilsa begins to feel very much like a third wheel and a bit dizzy from her own dangerous thoughts. 

She’s grateful when Ethan gets a call from Benji almost five minutes later, requesting he come to a discuss something about their setlist, and Ethan leaves with a one-arm hug for Ilsa and a squeeze on the shoulder for Alanna, which Ilsa appreciates for its lack of over the top affection. 

Alanna sighs as the door closes, turning to Ilsa with a wry grin. “There go my practice plans,” she says, and Ilsa smiles as she eases herself onto the floor of their makeshift practice room. 

“I think we’ve done enough practice for this song,” she says as Alanna joins her on the floor. 

“I’m kind of craving ice cream,” Alanna says after a moment, looking at Ilsa from under her lashes, and Ilsa caves before she even asks the question. 

“I saw a place a few minutes away,” Ilsa says, and Alanna grins. 

They’ve just stepped out with two small cups of ice cream when Ilsa notices the person with the camera. She purses her lips, nudging Alanna, who immediately notices. 

“Fuck,” Alanna says, annoyance clear in her voice. “Should we go back inside?” 

“No use since he’s already seen us,” Ilsa sighs, glancing around for a place to go. “Should we just walk?” She asks, already heading away from the paparazzi. Alanna follows her, arm brushing Ilsa’s as they fall into step with each other. Ilsa leads them around one corner of the street, and Alanna takes the lead for the next. Ilsa glances behind them, and lets out a small breath when she doesn’t see anyone. 

“Hold on, face me?” Alanna says, and Ilsa turns to her. Alanna gently takes Ilsa’s chin between her thumb and forefinger with one hand, the other hand lifting to the corner of Ilsa’s mouth. She pauses for a moment, then with the pad of her thumb wipes something off of Ilsa’s face, smiling in satisfaction as she pulls back slightly. “There,” she says, smile widening. “You had ice cream on your mouth,” she says, gesturing to the spot on her own face, and Ilsa can barely ignore the reaction that the gesture sparks in her stomach. 

“Thanks,” Ilsa manages out with a small smile, the feeling of Alanna’s thumb lingering at the corner of her mouth. 

“Anytime,” Alanna smiles, beginning to walk again. Ilsa turns to the back and nearly loses it– the goddamn paparazzi is there. 

“Fucking hell,” she mutters, and Alanna glances behind them, her expression immediately souring. 

“Let’s get a car back to the hotel,” she says, pulling out her phone as Ilsa leads her around the next corner. Alanna walks faster, and Ilsa lengthens her strides to match Alanna’s. 

“Turn right,” Ilsa murmurs, hooking an arm in the crook of Alanna’s elbow to guide her. Alanna leans into her as she furiously types something into her phone, glancing up briefly to assess their surroundings. “Slow down, otherwise we’ll make too much of a scene,” Ilsa murmurs after a few moments, tugging softly at Alanna’s arm, and Alanna complies. Ilsa would be lying if she said she didn’t relish the little bit of power. 

After a minute more, Alanna stops. “The car should be here any minute,” she says. Ilsa breathes a small sigh of relief. 

“That was a close call,” she says, almost instinctively moving closer to Alanna as they wait, sneaking glances at her phone screen where Alanna is watching the little car move towards the pickup spot. 

As the car rounds the corner, Alanna finally seems to relax slightly, and Ilsa lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. 

Ilsa recounts the story three separate times, once to Grace and Paris, once to Brandt, and once to Ethan, who gives her the most outraged reaction, second only to Brandt, who turns three different shades of angry red, then excuses himself to make a phone call which Ilsa can hear snippets of from down the hall. 

Too soon it’s time for the trio, and the nerves begin to build in Ilsa’s stomach as she watches Ethan and his band play out their set. Alanna appears next to her, half scaring Ilsa to death, and Ilsa glances at her, trying to calm her racing heart. 

“Excited?” Alanna asks, fiddling with her in-ear. Ilsa just shakes her head slowly, staring out at Ethan and his band again. Alanna chuckles softly. “It’ll be fun,” she says, sounding so certain that Ilsa actually starts to believe her. 

“I think we practiced too much,” Ilsa says half joking, glancing at Alanna again with a small smile. 

“Oh, hush, you,” Alanna says, a smile tugging at her lips as she nudges Ilsa. 

Grace and Paris appear a few minutes later, Grace lightly wrapped around Paris’s arm. Ilsa is surprised at how quickly it became normal for the two of them to meld into one being. 

Alanna gives Ethan a quick hug in between their sets, and Ilsa customarily looks away and tries not to think about Alanna’s lips too much. She can’t help but note that something between the two seems strained, and exchanges a glance with Paris, who looks like she’s thinking the same thing. 

As the drum set is being switched out, Ilsa takes her in-ears from Brandt. Alanna catches her eye from across the space and smirks slightly as she walks over to Ilsa. 

“Stay still,” is all she offers softly before she reaches up and does something with Ilsa’s hair that Ilsa can’t see. A moment later she pulls back, smiling in satisfaction. “You had something in your hair,” Alanna elaborates, and Ilsa smiles, struck by deja vu. 

“Thanks,” she says, unable to think of anything else to say, and Alanna just smiles back at her, light and pretty. 

“Anytime,” she says, a knowing look in her eye as she turns back to the stage. Ilsa glances over at Grace and Paris, both of whom are looking at her. Grace raises an eyebrow, gesturing with her head towards Alanna, and Ilsa realizes that they must have seen what just happened. She shakes her head slightly, and Grace just grins. Whipped, she mouths, and Ilsa resists the urge to flip her off. She settles for making a face at Grace instead, whose grin just grows. 

“You’re on in two,” Brandt informs them, and Alanna nods, all business. 

“Ready?” She asks Ilsa, eyebrow arched in an almost teasing way. Ilsa sighs. 

“When have I not been?” She counters, winking, and Alanna’s grin sharpens. 

“Good point,” Alanna says, and Ilsa’s grin matches hers.

They don’t say anything else until it’s time to go on stage and everyone customarily piles their hands together, silent smiles of excitement on their faces before they run out, one after another. Ilsa only begins to relax once she feels the neck of her guitar in her hand, the familiar weight keeping her steady as she looks out over the crowd. Then Paris taps out a beat and they start their set. 

The butterflies in Ilsa’s stomach multiply as she glances over to the wings where Ethan is tucked away, watching them and waiting. Alanna locks eyes with her, a reassuring smile ghosting over her lips as she approaches the mic to announce their song. 

“I’m pretty sure you guys know it’s Ilsa’s turn to do a duet with me,” Alanna leads with, and the crowd cheers. “But we’ve got a surprise in store for you guys tonight,” Alanna continues as Ilsa steps out to stand opposite Alanna, leaving space for one more person in between them. There’s a collective murmur of surprise from the crowd, followed by cheers and Alanna swaps a glance with Ilsa. 

“Ethan, do you want to come and say hi?” Alanna asks, and the screams from the crowd are near deafening. Ilsa grins at him as he approaches them, and he grins back, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. 

“Ready to get this started?” He asks, strumming out a few experimental chords on his guitar. There’s a loud cheer in response that makes Alanna smile, and Ilsa glances at Paris, who nods and taps out a beat to start the song. 

Ilsa chances a glance at Ethan, who is barely trying to hide the fact that he’s staring dead at Alanna. Ilsa’s gaze shifts to Alanna as well, and a pair of ice blue eyes lock with hers. Alanna’s lips curl upwards in a sharp smile as she meets Ilsa’s eyes, almost oblivious to her boyfriend standing next to her. 

Ethan begins the song and Ilsa grins at the country twang in his voice that seldom comes out for the song, and watches as Alanna layers her voice in for the chorus. She focuses on the weight of her guitar in her hand, the strings under her command, and breathes. 

Alanna’s verse comes and goes as Ilsa gets lost in her voice for the nth time since they started practicing the song. It’s not Alanna’s usual style, but it suits her surprisingly well and Ilsa wonders if they should do more country. 

Ilsa comes in on the second chorus, unable to suppress a smile when a cheer rises from the crowd at her voice layering on top of Alanna’s. 

What if I'm tryin', but then I close my eyes

And then I'm right back, lost in that last goodbye?

And what if time doesn't do what it's supposed to do?

Ilsa’s eyes meet Alanna’s and stay there, the reality of the words she’s singing creeping up on her. 

What if I never get over you?

Alanna just stares right back at her, blue eyes shining. Ilsa could swear that for a second the world around them falls away, Ethan and all, leaving just her and Alanna in front of her, but all too soon comes the sound of Ethan’s voice in the bridge of the song. 

What if I never get over?

What if I never get closure?

What if I never get back all the wasted words I told you?

What if it never gets better?

What if this lasts forever and ever and ever?

Ilsa snaps out of her thoughts long enough to appreciate their harmony on the last line of the bridge, then is thrown back in as she realizes something: the whole song, Alanna has looked at Ethan maybe twice. She glances back at Alanna, who is gazing out at the crowd, a serene smile on her face. Alanna glances back and meets Ilsa’s eyes, her gaze turning earnest as they launch into the last part of the song, Ethan’s line coming first. 

What if I gave you everything I got?

What if your love was my one and only shot?

Ilsa doesn’t tear her gaze from Alanna’s as she leans into the mic to sing, giving up on suppressing all the emotions she tried so hard to forget and throw away. 

What if I end up with nothing to compare you to?

Ilsa becomes aware of the light rise and fall of Alanna’s chest across from her, the layers that seem to have peeled from her throughout the song, leaving Alanna in Ilsa’s favorite form; her raw self. Not the one that the fans see, not the one Ethan sees, but the one that Ilsa sees late nights and early mornings when Alanna will hide her face in Ilsa’s shoulder and keep it there until she’s a bit more awake, and the one Ilsa sees when it’s just the band and Alanna can’t hide her smile at Grace’s bad jokes. 

She lets the emotion fade into the last line, not daring to take her eyes off of Alanna. 

What if I never get over you?

There’s an excited round of screaming and applause and Ilsa remembers the crowd in front of them and bumps Ethan’s shoulder playfully as Alanna laughs delightedly. 

“Ethan Hunt, everyone,” she exclaims, and Ethan waves to the crowd, sharing a smile with Alanna and Ilsa before he exits the stage. “And, of course, our very own Ilsa Faust,” Alanna says with a grin, gesturing to Ilsa, who can’t help but smile back. 

She blows a kiss to the crowd and nods slightly to Alanna before retreating back to her usual spot for the last song of their set. 

Ethan is backstage as they run off, grinning as Grace high-fives him. 

“That was one of the best ones we’ve done yet,” Paris says excitedly, and Grace nods. Alanna walks up behind them, smile radiant. 

“That went amazing,” she says, and Grace grins. “I’m proud of us for that one,” she adds, and Ilsa nods. 

“Great job guys,” Will grins as he heads over to them. “The buses are ready whenever you are.” Grace lets out an excited yelp and immediately begins dragging Paris towards the clothing tent to get out of their stage outfits. The groups scatters, and Ilsa makes a beeline for her trailer, craving an oversized sweatshirt to hide in until they make it back to the hotel. 

Back at the hotel, Ilsa muses on the events of the day as Alanna takes the bathroom first. They switch as Alanna flops onto the bed with nothing but a small smile at Ilsa, and Ilsa finally addresses the lingering thoughts in her mind about Ethan. 

Ethan looked increasingly concerned every time Ilsa caught a glimpse of him, and when he knocks on their door and steals Alanna away just as Ilsa is finishing up in the bathroom, she can’t help the curiosity at what is going on. 

She curls up in her bed and waits for fifteen minutes before Alanna comes back in, looking utterly lost and exhausted. 

“What happened?” Ilsa asks softly, immediately putting down her book at the sight of Alanna. 

“Ethan called it,” Alanna says, her voice tired. “We broke up.” 

Chapter Text

Ilsa wakes up with Alanna’s face centimeters from her own, Alanna’s hand cradled in her own. Her initial reaction is one of shock– her barely awake brain is racing to remember the events of last night, and while Ilsa is fully clothed, she can never be too sure. 

She comes to be aware of her arm flung over Alanna’s midsection; Alanna had moved closer to her during the night and Ilsa had apparently accommodated it. The rest of Alanna’s body has curled into Ilsa’s too, Alanna’s legs nestled against Ilsa’s and her torso barely a centimeter away from Ilsa’s own. 

Ilsa’s brain seems to be working in starts and stops as she takes in the sight of Alanna before her. Alanna’s eyes are fluttering as she sleeps, chest lightly rising and falling as she breathes. Ilsa can’t help but stare for a moment, the sheer domesticity of the moment slowly sinking in. 

Her alarm blares from her right side and Ilsa startles, the arm draped over Alanna moving to grab her phone, blindly pressing the screen to snooze the alarm. When she turns back, Alanna’s eyes are half open, and she’s staring blearily at Ilsa. 

“How much time do we have before we have to be on the road?” Alanna asks, curling into herself more. 

“Two hours,” Ilsa says, propping her head up on her hand. 

“Twenty more minutes?” Alanna suggests, and Ilsa smiles slightly. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” she sighs, already setting the new alarm on her phone and sliding under the covers. She’s decently far from Alanna now, considering that they’re two people sleeping on a full sized bed, but Ilsa can’t help but miss the warmth of the other woman’s body. A minute ticks by, and suddenly Ilsa can feel the bed shift and Alanna’s arm wraps around her torso. Ilsa freezes, surprised by the sudden move. 

She is completely still for a second before she comes to her senses and reacts, pulling Alanna closer and tucking the blonde in the space under her chin. Alanna lets out a little sigh of contentment from below her, and Ilsa hopes Alanna can’t feel the fast beating of her heart.  

The next twenty minutes goes by criminally slow for Ilsa, who is left in the dark, mind racing. Alanna’s breath ghosts over her collarbone, and Ilsa can smell hints of the hotel shampoo on Alanna’s blonde hair whenever she breathes in. Her eyes finally flutter shut, but all she can see behind them is the events of the night before playing out, the way Alanna seemed to have simply given up as she recounted the turn of events to Ilsa. 

When her second alarm goes off, Ilsa has barely dozed off. She feels Alanna groan in annoyance against her clavicle and wordlessly reaches for her phone. 

“I’m snoozing it,” she says, and Alanna murmurs out a thank you before Ilsa’s eyes drift shut and she finally falls into a proper sleep. 

Alanna is the one to get the alarm the third time around, reaching over Ilsa to silence it, and Ilsa sighs. 

“We have to get up now, don’t we,” she says, and Alanna nods as she props herself up on her forearm. 

“We still have to pack our stuff before we leave,” Alanna says, her voice raspy with sleep. She clears her throat, looking surprised at the sound of her own voice, then looks at Ilsa expectantly. 

“Right,” Ilsa says, wanting to do anything else in the world but that. She scoots to the edge of the bed and winces as her feet hit the ground, still sore from the heels she was in last night. Alanna mirrors her on the other side of the bed, sighing as she walks over to her open suitcase. 

“I’ll take the bathroom first,” Ilsa says, and Alanna nods. 

“Ilsa?” She says, right as Ilsa is about to close the door, and Ilsa looks back. 

“Thank you,” Alanna says, her voice quieter, and Ilsa softens. 

“Anytime,” Ilsa says, her voice equally quiet, and Alanna smiles. Ilsa closes the door behind her and lets her back hit the smooth wood as she lets out a long breath. One of these days this is going to kill me. 

____________________

They have a rest day to spend around their new venue, and Ilsa has never been so happy to see rain. She stays in bed until half past nine, scrolling through her phone and occasionally showing Alanna a video that makes her laugh. Alanna leaves at nine, citing the fitness center in the hotel, leaving Ilsa alone in the room. She eventually decides Alanna had a good idea and pulls on sweatpants and a sports bra, making her way down to the gym. 

Ilsa finds Alanna in a secluded corner of the otherwise empty gym, headphones in and doing crunches. She’s in biker shorts and a sports bra, and Ilsa takes a moment to appreciate the sculpt of her stomach. She waits until Alanna sits up to reveal herself, leaning against a nearby treadmill in a way she can only hope looks smooth. 

Alanna spots her almost immediately as she sits up and smiles, pulling out her headphones and standing. 

“Hey,” she says. “What’s up?” Ilsa shrugs. 

“Decided to come be productive,” she says, and Alanna grins. 

“Welcome to the club,” she says, cracking her neck. Ilsa tries not to let her gaze wander south, knowing full well how good Alanna looks in sports bras. Alanna grins one more time before putting her headphones back in. Ilsa takes that as her cue and mounts the treadmill, one last lingering look at Alanna before she presses start.

_______________

“Paris won’t be able to do the duet today,” Alanna says as soon as Ilsa opens the door to her trailer, and Ilsa’s brain immediately starts running scenarios. 

“Am I stepping in for her then?” She asks, realizing why Alanna must be at her door rather than Will’s. 

“I was thinking we could just move shutdown to today,” Alanna says, sounding almost sheepish. Ilsa nods slowly, leaning more into the doorframe. 

“Okay,” she finally says, and Alanna smiles, relief cracking through her features. 

“Really?” Alanna asks, and Ilsa nods. “Thank you,” Alanna says softly, and Ilsa reaches out to squeeze Alanna’s shoulder in solidarity before Alanna turns and closes the door. As soon as the door closes, Ilsa looks up to the ceiling, as if imploring the heavens. I am nowhere near ready for this. 

Twenty minutes before they’re scheduled to start, the band gathers behind the stage where Ethan and his band are opening for them. Alanna is wearing a pair of sinfully short shorts and a corset top that makes Ilsa wonder if she can breathe. She looks nothing short of stunning though, and Ilsa wonders not for the first time how she’ll make it through their set alive. 

Grace and Paris are trading looks that Ilsa can’t quite decipher as Will runs through the checklist for the night, occasionally glancing at Ilsa, who is trying to figure out what exactly the duo are thinking. 

“You heard about Ethan and Alanna, right?” Grace asks quietly as they ready their in-ear monitors, and Ilsa nods. 

“He ended it right before we went to bed, so I was the first one to hear,” Ilsa says. Grace raises an eyebrow. 

“Did anything happen?” Grace asks, clearly implying something, and Ilsa shoots her a look. 

“No, I’m not that crazy,” she says, defensive and almost hurt. “I wouldn’t take advantage of her like that.” Grace nods, satisfied with her answer. 

“Good,” she says. “You know, there’s still something between you two,” Grace adds after a moment, meeting Ilsa’s gaze earnestly. Ilsa sighs, quietly thanking the stage assistant as she moves away to help Paris with her in-ear set. 

“I don’t know if she wants to explore that though,” Ilsa says. “She just broke up with her boyfriend, she’s probably still a little raw from that.” 

“She keeps on staring at you for really long periods of time whenever you’re not looking,” Grace counters, and Ilsa turns to her in surprise. 

“Really?” She asks, and Grace nods matter-of-factly. 

“Take it with a grain of salt, but,” she nudges Ilsa one last time as Paris beckons her for help with a zipper. Ilsa stares after Grace for a moment before turning her gaze to Alanna, who is looking right at her. Their gazes lock and Alanna’s eyes soften a tiny bit, a flicker of reassurance crossing her face as if she can read Ilsa’s mind. Ilsa nods, and Alanna grins, eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. 

They naturally clump together as Ethan’s band plays the last song of their set, Ilsa’s pre-show rituals complete as she waits to go onstage. Alanna is next to her, expression completely stoic as Ethan, Benji, and Luther run offstage. 

Ilsa’s hand finds Alanna’s, and without a second thought she squeezes it lightly in a gesture of comfort. Alanna squeezes back and keeps her grip on Ilsa’s hand, bringing it closer to her as their instruments are set up on stage. Ilsa glances at Alanna’s determined side profile once more before they all put their hands in the middle and run out onto the stage one by one. 

The duet rolls around far too fast for Ilsa’s liking. All of a sudden she’s at the front of the stage, staring into Alanna’s eyes and hoping that by some miracle she makes it out of this song alive. 

The song starts with little fanfare, which Ilsa is grateful for, and the crowd quiets as Ilsa approaches the microphone. 

She feels oddly bare without her guitar in hand for the song, which Alanna must notice because as Ilsa sings out the last few lines of the pre chorus, Alanna moves towards her with a confident gleam in her eye. 

From head to toe

From head to toe

Hold my waist then stop there

Touch down, touch down

Alanna’s fingers find the stretch of exposed skin on Ilsa’s waist and Ilsa leans into the touch ever so slightly, just playing along , because she knows she couldn’t do anything else if she tried. Alanna’s hand travels further down as she continues through the chorus, dropping away from Ilsa when it can’t reach any further.

From head to toe

From head to toe

From your knees 'till morning

Shutdown, shutdown

Ilsa’s skin tingles where Alanna’s fingers were a moment before even as she detaches her microphone from its stand and begins the second verse. There’s a cheer from the crowd as she begins, the rap newly familiar on her tongue. She steps away from Alanna and plays with the fans in front of her, lowering to a crouch on the back of her heels as she delivers her lines with a grin. 

Ilsa gets up and turns to Alanna as she leads into the chorus and is surprised to see a fleeting look of affection on Alanna’s face as their eyes lock. Ilsa yearns to memorize the soft lines of Alanna’s face under the colored lights of the stage. 

Hug me unstoppingly

Fill the moment we met, love it

Ilsa turns to face Alanna fully, a smile playing on her lips. 

Our tempering relationship

Won't cool unstoppingly

You and I tonight

Alanna looks right back at her, her eyes layered with so many things it would take Ilsa hours to unpack it all. The space between them becomes smaller and smaller, the gap between them closing as easily as breathing. 

Tell me, be the sea

I keep swimming deep every day baby (Baby, baby)

Alanna reaches Ilsa and her hand lands on Ilsa’s shoulder, slowly trailing down past her waist until Alanna is forced to crouch in front of Ilsa to continue the contact, her hand trailing over Ilsa’s calf. 

Baby, baby slow 

down, down, down

Alanna’s grin is teasing as Ilsa looks down at her, and Ilsa can’t help but give her a small playful smile back. She hooks one finger gently under Alanna’s chin to pull her up and Alanna complies, standing slowly. When they come face to face again, Alanna’s pupils look slightly blown and her lips are curved in a suggestive smirk that does things to Ilsa’s head. 

From head to toe 

From head to toe 

Hold my waist then stop there 

Touch down, touch down

Alanna wraps her arm over Ilsa’s shoulders and Ilsa takes some of her weight as they look out into the crowd. Alanna’s voice layers ethereally on top of Ilsa’s and the moment is so perfect Ilsa could cry. 

From head to toe 

From head to toe 

From your knees 'till morning 

Shutdown, shutdown baby 

The crowd erupts as Alanna pulls Ilsa in for a hug before Ilsa backs up to the safety of her guitar, still feeling the ghost of Alanna’s fingers trailing down her body. 

Their final song goes on without a hitch and Ilsa feels satisfied as they run off stage. Alanna leans against her, adjusting her heel as Will goes over the schedule for the next day with them. Ilsa mindlessly steadies Alanna with a hand on her waist as she slips a bit, and Alanna sinks into her hand with a murmured thanks. 

They’re walking back to their respective trailers when Alanna suddenly turns to her, her expression serious. 

“Can we talk quickly?” She asks, and Ilsa nods, Alanna’s sudden seriousness making her uneasy. 

“My trailer?” She offers, and Alanna nods, looking slightly nervous. I wonder what it possibly could be that’s making her nervous, Ilsa thinks as she opens her door, thankful for the fact that she cleaned up a little before the show. 

“What’s up?” Ilsa asks, hoisting herself up onto the countertop in the corner that’s more comfortable than the couch. Alanna definitely looks nervous now, uncharacteristically so. 

“It’s about Ethan,” Alanna says. “Well, kind of,” she adds before Ilsa can formulate a thought about her first statement. 

“Okay,” Ilsa says, leaning forward a bit. “Shoot.” 

“So, do you remember when he broke up with me?” Alanna asks, and Ilsa nods. “He said something that I really only just figured out,” she starts. “He said that I clearly had feelings for someone else and he wasn’t going to get in the way of that,” she says, pursing her lips a bit, and Ilsa feels a stirring in her gut. It can’t be. 

“He wouldn’t tell me who, which I thought was ridiculous, but then I walked into the room and saw you sitting there on the bed, waiting for me, and I…” Alanna trails off, “It kind of hit me.” 

Ilsa stares, unable to process what Alanna is saying. 

“I was thinking about it when you were talking about unrequited love,” Alanna continues. “And how whoever it was who didn’t like you would be such an idiot not to like you because you’re amazing and funny and gorgeous and then it just hit me, that maybe I would want to be that person that you wanted that badly.”

“You–” Ilsa starts and pauses when she sees Alanna’s expression, completely raw. 

“I didn’t realize how big of a thing it was until Ethan broke up with me and you waited up for me and I woke up just wanting to be so close to you and I realized it was you he was talking about,” Alanna finishes, her voice growing quiet. There’s a moment of silence where Ilsa is debating revealing all of her thoughts from the past week, but she opts to share one thought instead. 

“You know, that song I showed you about unrequited love and the person I was falling for who didn’t like me back,” Ilsa starts, and Alanna’s eyes widen a bit. “That may or may not have been about you.” 

Alanna’s lips part in surprise and she takes a few tentative steps forward, closing the gap between her and Ilsa. “You–” she starts, her gaze bewildered. “That was– You liked me too?” Ilsa nods, suddenly shy. There’s a moment that passes between them, each person trying to wrap their head around this new information, and then– 

“Oh, fucking hell,” Alanna says, and Ilsa is already sliding off the counter and meeting Alanna halfway. Her fingers curl in Alanna’s wavy blonde hair and Ilsa savors the little noise Alanna makes as she rises to meet the blonde’s lips.

There’s a moment where Ilsa just sinks into the kiss, the feeling of Alanna’s lips on hers that she’s waited so long for, and then she’s seeking something to brace herself against as Alanna deepens the kiss. As if she can read her mind, Alanna guides her back until she’s pressed against the wall. 

Her hands travel down to the hem of Alanna’s shirt to brush the skin there, and she feels Alanna shiver at her touch. She grins into the kiss and Alanna bites down on her lip in response, eliciting a noise from Ilsa that makes Alanna grin triumphantly. When they pull back for air, Ilsa takes silent pleasure in the way Alanna’s lips are slightly swollen and her hair disheveled from Ilsa’s hands.  

“I hope you know how hard it was for me not to do that on stage when I saw you in those shorts,” Ilsa murmurs, and Alanna laughs. 

“I hope you know I’m not going to keep my hands off of you for the foreseeable future,” Alanna murmurs, her arms snaking around Ilsa’s waist. “If you’ll have me, of course,” she adds, and Ilsa grins wider. 

“I’d love to have you,” she says, and Alanna’s smile widens. “If the whole writing a song about how much I wanted to be yours thing wasn’t confirmation enough,” she adds and Alanna shakes her head with a grin, pushing away from the wall Ilsa’s against. 

“Shut up,” she whines. 

“Make me,” Ilsa counters, and Alanna smirks. 

“I’ll do a lot more than that when we get back to the hotel,” she says, her voice dropping suggestively. Ilsa scrunches her nose at Alanna, trying to hide her rapidly warming cheeks. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” she says, and Alanna smirks. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” she says, and Ilsa shakes her head, a grin forming on her lips. 

“Me too,” she says.

Chapter Text

Ilsa wakes up stripped of clothes with a pair of arms tangled around her waist. She almost doesn’t want to open her eyes, the feeling of bare skin on hers making her oddly calm. When she finally manages to pry them open, a smile crosses her lips almost immediately at the sight in front of her. Alanna’s face is centimeters from hers, blonde hair mussed and lips in a peaceful smile. 

As if Alanna can feel Ilsa’s gaze on her, her eyes flutter open, and she smirks slightly. 

“Like what you see?” She says, her voice raspy with sleep (and other things from last night, Ilsa would like to think) 

“Like it a lot,” Ilsa hums, and Alanna’s smirk widens. 

“Hmm,” she says, leaning close enough until their noses brush. “Funny, because I feel the same way.” Ilsa chuckles against her lips, her hands brushing over Alanna’s hip. 

“We still have a show to do tonight,” she murmurs, and Alanna tilts her head, blonde hair fanning out even more on her pillow. “Thank god I didn’t make you scream nearly as much as I could have,” Ilsa adds devilishly, and Alanna’s eyes darken with want , a smile curling over her lips. 

“Good thing indeed, because we have two weeks off before the next leg of our tour,” she murmurs. “And correct me if I’m reading the room wrong, and this was a one-time thing, but…” 

“You won’t be able to walk for days when we get back home,” Ilsa murmurs against her lips, and Alanna grins. 

“I look forward to it,” she says, and Ilsa finally captures her lips in a kiss, Alanna’s hands lazily trailing up and down her sides as she moves closer. 

“We really do have a show to get ready for though,” Ilsa whispers as they pull apart a little while later, and Alanna arches an eyebrow. 

“Funny, you didn’t have that attitude last night at all,” she murmurs with a teasing smirk, and Ilsa feels herself turning pink. 

“Oh, shut up,” she murmurs, Alanna’s laughter tinkling like a bell. 

“I would say make me, but you’re right, we do have a show to get ready for,” she grins as she rolls off the other end of the bed, Ilsa immediately missing her warmth. She lays in bed for a moment longer, admiring the sight of Alanna’s bare back as she grabs a robe off the foot of her bed and ties it around herself, effectively proceeding to cut off Ilsa’s view. She pouts, then finally rolls off the bed to get ready for the day. 

_____________

They never talk about it. Everything goes back to normal, except now Ilsa lets herself stare for longer than she should and Alanna catches her with knowing grins. Grace and Paris seem to catch on to what happened pretty quick, and Grace takes to teasing them every time they’re within a two meter radius of each other. 

They only have one more song left before their break, and it’s driving Ilsa near the point of insanity. She loves being around the fans and with the band, but she can feel herself wearing down with all of the consecutive shows, her voice and her body ready for a break. 

Alanna knocks on her trailer door an hour before they’re supposed to go onstage, and Ilsa lets her in with a vaguely surprised smile. 

“What’s up?” She asks, perching on the edge of her couch as Alanna leans against the wall across from her. 

“Just wanted to see how you’re doing,” Alanna says, shrugging almost bashfully. “It’s our last show of this leg. We get to go home soon.” My home is wherever you are, Ilsa’s brain supplies her, so sudden and close to the truth that she almost jumps. 

“Yeah,” Ilsa says instead, ignoring the way her heart seems to have moved past at least three stages of a normal relationship to declare Alanna her home. “I’m pretty good,” she says, belatedly realizing she never answered Alanna’s original question. “I’ll be happy to sleep in my own bed again,” she adds with a chuckle and Alanna grins. 

“Me too,” she says. They lapse into silence, Ilsa absentmindedly picking at the cuff of her sweatshirt. 

“Do you want to get dinner or something next week?” She finally asks, meeting Alanna’s eyes. “I know you promised to make me scream and all, and that sounds amazing, but,” she grins wryly, and Alanna laughs brightly. 

“I’d love to,” she says earnestly, pushing herself off the wall with a genuine smile. “As a date?” She asks after a moment, and Ilsa blushes. 

“If you want it to be,” she says, and a smile ghosts over Alanna’s lips again. 

“It’s a date, then,” Alanna grins, the bashfulness coming back in a way Ilsa can’t help but find endearing. 

“Okay,” Ilsa says, and the awkward silence creeps back as she can’t think of more things to say. 

“I’m gonna go back and get ready for…” Alanna trails off, gesturing to the direction of her trailer, and Ilsa nods. 

“See you in a few,” she says as Alanna exits, and Alanna shoots her a thumbs up as she leaves. 

Ilsa flops back on her couch as soon as the door closes, a soft exhale leaving her lips. It’s a date. We’re going on a date. She sits up. Wow.

Their last surprise song is one that informs nearly all of Ilsa’s show decisions. She wears soft colors, changes her playlist to slower songs to get in the mood, and brings out her acoustic guitar for a few rounds before she has to go out. 

Paris meets her on the fleeting walk to the backstage area, grinning at Ilsa’s outfit. “I like it,” she says, nudging Ilsa slightly. “It brings out the softer side of you.”

A gauzy baby blue with puffy sleeves, Ilsa’s top reads slightly romantic against the tight material of her miniskirt. She takes a page out of Alanna’s book and wears nothing but a bra underneath, her abs just barely visible underneath the gauzy blue fabric of her top. 

“Thanks,” Ilsa says, glancing at Paris’s entirely black bomber jacket and ripped jeans shorts. “We’re kind of going angel and devil, aren’t we?” She asks, gesturing between them with a grin. Paris laughs as the sound of Ethan’s band gets closer. 

“We are,” she concedes, grinning at Grace who bounces up to them. 

“Ready?” She asks, and Ilsa nods, a smile tugging at her lips. “Where’s Alanna?” Grace asks, and Paris shrugs. 

“I’m here,” a voice comes from next to Ilsa, and she swears the blonde materializes out of thin air, nearly giving Ilsa a heart attack. 

“Oh my god, where did you come from,” Ilsa manages out as she clamps a hand on Alanna’s shoulder for support, her heart still sped up from Alanna’s sudden appearance. 

“I was checking on the in-ears,” Alanna supplies, shooting a look halfway between fond and amused at Ilsa. 

“You fucking terrified me–” Ilsa doesn’t get much further as Grace gasps, eyes lighting up as she takes Alanna in further. 

“Your outfit,” she says incredulously, and Ilsa has to back up to look at the whole thing. 

Alanna’s outfit is a baby pink that goes perfectly with Ilsa’s baby blue: a gorgeous silk crop top with a matching skirt that flares out and ends mid-thigh paired with knee high boots, black and shiny. Ilsa’s lips part in surprise, and Alanna’s eyes find hers again. 

“Looks like we had the same idea,” she says, tilting her head playfully. Ilsa just shakes her head, a smile growing on her face. 

“It’s the mind link,” she says, and Alanna laughs. 

“Hmm, I think you’re right,” she says teasingly, and Ilsa doesn’t miss the flirtatious twinkle in her eye. 

“Everyone ready?” Brandt asks, coming up from behind them. “Last show, let’s make it a good one.” Alanna nods, back to business, and Ilsa follows suit. 

“I’m excited to sleep for three days straight and all after this, but it’s sad,” Grace says, frowning a bit. “I love doing this.” Ilsa nods, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder with a small smile. 

“Lucky for us we have another leg in two weeks,” she says wryly, and Grace laughs. 

“Just had to ruin the moment,” Grace grins, shaking her head. Ilsa smirks, proud of herself. 

“Just keeping you honest,” she winks and Alanna laughs. 

Ethan’s band offers them hugs and promises to stay in touch as they jog off, Ethan offering a grim smile to Alanna as he squeezes her shoulder that Ilsa doesn’t fail to notice. He hugs Ilsa, adding a little squeeze as he pulls back, accompanied by a knowing smile. Ilsa just smirks back, shaking her head a bit. 

“Tell me if you ever figure out the guitar riff you were working on, I want to hear it,” she just says, and Ethan nods. 

“Will do,” he says, smiling, and his spot is taken by Benji. Benji promises to meet her for dinner sometime soon to catch up, which Ilsa happily agrees to. Then they’re all gone and all who’s left is the band. 

“Five minutes,” Will tells them, and Ilsa glances around the circle at the four of them. Paris looks more determined than anything else, and next to her Grace looks surprisingly calm as she thanks Will with a small smile. And Alanna— goddamn it, Ilsa can feel the blush rise to her cheeks as she looks at her as if they haven’t already fucked two seperate times over the course of the past two days– Alanna looks perfect . Nothing short of stunning in baby pink, blonde hair in soft waves over her shoulder. 

Alanna catches her eye and smiles, arching an eyebrow, and Ilsa just scrunches her nose at her. Alanna laughs softly, moving to follow Grace and Paris as they walk towards the side of the stage to get ready. Ilsa follows her, but a moment later Alanna stops and wordlessly pulls her in to plant a kiss on her lips. It’s nothing extraordinary, but the look in Alanna’s eyes promises more, and Ilsa smiles. 

“Couldn’t mess up your lipstick,” Alanna murmurs, sounding slightly peeved, and Ilsa is the one to laugh this time.

“Mess it up later,” she murmurs back, and Alanna grins.

Will hands them their in-ears and they can’t talk anymore, but Ilsa shoots a smirk at Alanna, who smirks back. They meet Grace and Paris in a circle for one last time, wordlessly stacking hands, and then they’re on stage and everything is bright again. 

The surprise song serves as a confession of sorts to Ilsa. She hasn’t asked Alanna to properly date her yet. She doesn’t know if that’s something they should do, or just stay friends with benefits (the very concept of which is too unattached for Ilsa’s taste). She doesn’t know what Alanna wants either. 

They should probably talk. 

As she approaches the microphone, Ilsa votes on singing instead, hoping Alanna will get what she’s trying to say. She strums out a few experimental chords on her guitar as Alanna announces her then starts, letting the familiarity of the song settle in. 

Alanna leans into the mic, swaying ever so slightly as she begins the song. 

I'm not one to stick around

One strike and you're out, baby

Don't care if I sound crazy

Ilsa watches her for a moment, staring at the line of Alanna’s neck before she adds in, her voice balancing over Alanna’s to create a small harmony. 

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Got all this time on my hands

Might as well cancel our plans, yeah

I could stay here for a lifetime

Alanna smiles as she glances at Ilsa, eyes shining in earnest. Ilsa gravitates closer, knowing her verse is far off enough that she doesn’t need her mic for a little. Alanna seems to welcome the closeness, pulling her mic out of its stand and taking a few more steps towards Ilsa as she starts the chorus, her voice getting stronger. 

So, lock the door and throw out the key

Can't fight this no more, it's just you and me

And there's nothin' I, nothin' I, I can do

I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you

Alanna reaches out for Ilsa who abandons her guitar for a moment to lace her fingers through Alanna’s in between them and squeeze, a smile working its way over her face. 

So, go ahead and drive me insane

Baby, run your mouth, I still wouldn't change

Being stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you

I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you, baby

Ilsa retreats to her mic as her verse starts and she stares out into the audience, watching as phone lights go up before turning to Alanna with the two lines that have been reminding her of the blonde as of late. 

If you told me that the world's endin'

Ain't no other way that I can spend it

Alanna’s voice layering beneath hers makes Ilsa smile, the sound coming together exquisitely well. 

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Got all this time in my hands

Might as well cancel our plans

I could stay here forever

Ilsa’s already on her way to Alanna, who is staring at her sideways from her mic, a gleam in her eyes. 

So, lock the door and throw out the key

Can't fight this no more, It's just you and me

And there's nothin' I, nothin' I, I can do

I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you

They finish the chorus so close Ilsa swears it physically hurts. She leans into Alanna’s mic in the absence of her own for her line, and can feel Alanna’s gaze on her.

Oh, baby, come take all my time

Alanna leans in now, eyes still trained on Ilsa. 

Go on, make me lose my mind

Alanna’s smile is coy as she leaves the mic for Ilsa, who grins back at the implication of the line. 

We got all that we need here tonight

Alanna throws her head back a bit, a grin on her face before she leads into the last chorus, her voice strong as she hits the top of her register to reach the highest note of the song. Ilsa adds in when it’s her time, spending the rest of the time admiring the angle of the lights on Alanna, who is all but staring right into her eyes. 

I lock the door (Lock the door)

And throw out the key

Can't fight this no more (Can't fight this no more)

It's just you and me

And there's nothin' I, nothin' I'd rather do

I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you

They’re practically slow dancing now with how close they are, swaying in sync, and when Alanna reaches out her hand Ilsa takes it without any hesitation, allowing herself to be twirled. She leans out, Alanna’s arm coming taut between them and spins Alanna under her arm in turn, Alanna’s skirt flaring out as she spins. 

So, go ahead and drive me insane

Baby, run your mouth, I still wouldn't change

All this lovin' you, hatin' you, wantin' you

I'm stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you

Alanna holds out the last note and so does Ilsa, grinning widely. 

Stuck with you, stuck with you, stuck with you

The cheering of the crowd brings Ilsa back, and she turns to them with a smile. She offers the crowd a little wink, attempting to calm herself. 

“Ilsa Faust, everybody,” Alanna’s voice rings out, and Ilsa’s gaze is pulled back to her as she realizes she’s still level with Alanna on the stage. Alanna pulls Ilsa in for a hug, and it’s all too familiar with the smell of her shampoo, her hairspray, and the faint whiff of her soap that Ilsa catches off her shoulder as she tries her hardest not to just give in and bury her face in Alanna’s neck. 

Alanna pulls back a bit to plant a barely-there kiss on Ilsa’s cheek before Ilsa retreats back to her old position on stage, and another cheer goes up from the crowd. Ilsa sees Alanna’s coy smile before she turns back to the crowd for their last song of the set. 

Offstage they take pictures, so many pictures, in groups and on their own. Ilsa gets a shot or two with her lips pressed to Alanna’s cheek in a sweet kiss which Grace coos at all the way back to their trailers. 

Ilsa’s favorite is a shot of Grace and Paris messing around, the turquoise of Grace’s dress contrasting Paris’s all black look in such a lovely way– but what Ilsa loves most about the picture is the way Paris looks at Grace as if she’s hung the moon, so affectionate that Ilsa saves it away in her folder for when the two of them indubitably get married. 

Ilsa’s the first on the bus, enveloped in her sweatshirt with Vivaldi playing in her ears. Alanna is soon after her, wordlessly sliding into the seat next to her, her head falling on Ilsa’s shoulder. 

“You know, I just realized something,” she murmurs as Ilsa pulls out her headphones. “I never asked you a pretty important question.” Ilsa glances sideways at her, a smirk beginning to stretch across her lips. 

“I had a question I was going to ask you too,” she murmurs. “Y’know, in the spirit of tonight’s song.” Alanna’s lips curve up, and she lifts her head from Ilsa’s shoulder to look her in the eyes. 

“Shall I go first?” Alanna asks, her voice barely above a whisper, and suddenly their dynamic is far too intimate for the small tour bus that they’re sitting on. 

“Ilsa Faust,” she starts, and Ilsa vaguely registers her heartbeat speeding up. “Will you do me the utmost pleasure of being my girlfriend?” Ilsa pretends to think for a moment, watching Alanna’s expression of pure, unwavering waiting, something like love shifting behind her eyes. 

“Of course, you idiot,” she grins finally, and Alanna’s face brightens, melting into a smile as Ilsa gently takes her chin and pulls her in for a kiss. Alanna shifts just barely to accommodate Ilsa’s weight slowly moving on top of her, Alanna’s own arms covered in her sweatshirt coming to wrap around Ilsa. 

They break apart a minute later, still somehow the only two on the bus, and Ilsa tucks her head into the side of Alanna’s neck, breathing in deeply. 

“Funny, I was going to ask you the same question,” she whispers, and Alanna laughs softly. 

“Did I steal your thunder?” She asks, sounding genuinely near worry, and Ilsa places a gentle kiss to her neck. 

“No,” she murmurs, burying her face further into Alanna’s hair as if to memorize the scent. “Yours sounded better than mine.” Alanna laughs again, and Ilsa can hear the tired delirium seeping into her voice. 

“So you’re not going to ask me?” Alanna asks, and Ilsa looks up to see Alanna attempting a pout. Ilsa can’t help the laugh that escapes her lips, and Alanna grins triumphantly. 

“Alanna Mitsopolis,” she begins, shifting off of Alanna’s lap to look her in the eye. “Will you be my girlfriend?” Alanna breaks out into another grin, this time slightly evil. 

“You were right, mine was better,” she says, and Ilsa gapes at her in mock offense. 

“Oh, shut up,” Ilsa says, unable to fight the grin that stretches over her face again as she settles into her own seat. 

“Hmm, make me,” Alanna whispers, and Ilsa can hear the smirk in her voice even without seeing her. Ilsa turns to her, already leaning in when the sound of the bus door opening stops her short. 

“To be continued?” Ilsa says as Grace and Paris step into the bus, and Alanna nods, an amused glint in her eye. 

It’s only once they’re all settled and the bus has started moving that Ilsa realizes something. 

“You never answered my question from earlier,” she murmurs to Alanna, who turns to her, eyes sleepy and amused. 

“I didn’t?” She asks, and Ilsa shakes her head in affirmative, a smile playing on her lips. 

“However uneloquent it was,” Ilsa adds with a small pout, and the smile she elicits from Alanna is so full of affection it nearly startles Ilsa. 

“I’d love to,” Alanna finally says, staring Ilsa in the eyes. “Be your girlfriend,” she adds. “Even though Grace told me earlier that we were already married, wherever that means.” Ilsa laughs, pressing her forehead to Alanna’s in the process, watching Alanna’s eyes light up at the contact. 

They lapse into silence, Ilsa’s head coming to rest comfortably on Alanna’s shoulder, hands twined between them. 

“You know the fans are going to have a field day with this, right?” Alanna asks after a moment, and Ilsa sighs. 

“Oh, god,” Ilsa mutters, and Alanna laughs brightly at her reaction, squeezing her hand gently. 

“We’ll manage,” she says softly. “So long as we stick together.” Ilsa hums in agreement, a smile growing on her face as she glances up at Alanna. We’ll manage fine as long as we have each other. Which I hope will be for a damn long time because I really don’t want to let you go.

Chapter Text

Extras! 

OUTTAKES OF THE FINAL SCENE IN CHAPTER 8

Take 1: 

Alanna’s lips part in surprise and she takes a few tentative steps forward, closing the gap between her and Ilsa. “You–” she starts, her gaze bewildered. “That was– You liked me too?” Ilsa nods, suddenly shy. There’s a moment that passes between them, each person trying to wrap their head around this new information, and then– 

“Can I kiss you?” Alanna asks, and Ilsa is already meeting her halfway down the counter, fingers curling in Alanna’s wavy blonde hair. Her back presses against the cool counter as she realizes with pleasure that, yes, Alanna is a phenomenal kisser. Her hands travel down to the hem of Alanna’s shirt to brush the skin there, and she feels Alanna shiver at her touch. She grins into the kiss and Alanna bites down on her lip in response, eliciting a noise from Ilsa. 

Alanna’s hands are circling her waist when there’s a knock at the door and they break apart almost immediately. Ilsa takes silent pleasure in the way Alanna’s lips are slightly swollen and her hair disheveled as they pull back. Alanna presses a finger to her lips and Ilsa nods as Alanna opens the door. 

“Hey, is Ilsa there too?” Will asks from a place outside the trailer that Ilsa can’t see, and Alanna nods. “Okay, well the bus leaves in ten minutes, so be ready,” Will says, and Alanna nods and thanks him. As soon as she closes the door, Ilsa bursts out laughing, and Alanna turns to her. 

“He definitely knows,” she says, a hopeless grin stretching across her face, and Ilsa rolls her eyes good-naturedly. 

“At this point, I think everyone but us did,” she says, and Alanna raises an eyebrow. “Grace has photos,” Ilsa says, and Alanna sighs. 

“Of course she does,” she says, shaking her head. 

“Can we…” Ilsa trails off, unsure how to put it. “Can we finish that at the hotel?” She asks, and Alanna turns to her, a smile growing on her lips. 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she says with a coy grin. “I’d love to.”

Take 2: (half of this I ended up using, but the other half felt too rushed so I scrapped it) 

Alanna’s lips part in surprise and she takes a few tentative steps forward, closing the gap between her and Ilsa. “You–” she starts, her gaze bewildered. “That was– You liked me too?” Ilsa nods, suddenly shy. There’s a moment that passes between them, each person trying to wrap their head around this new information, and then– 

“Oh, fucking hell,” Alanna says, and Ilsa is already sliding off the counter and meeting Alanna halfway. Her fingers curl in Alanna’s wavy blonde hair and Ilsa savors the little noise Alanna makes as she rises to meet the blonde’s lips.

Alanna tastes sweet, like the Gatorade Ilsa saw her drinking after the show, and when Ilsa soothes her tongue over Alanna’s bottom lip, she catches a trace of Alanna’s lipstick. Alanna’s lips are moving softly against hers, and Ilsa wishes time would stop just for her to stay in this moment forever.

They’re both grinning like idiots when they pull back, Ilsa’s hands still curled in Alanna’s hair, Alanna’s hands moving down from her ribs to her hips. Alanna’s forehead comes to rest against Ilsa’s for a moment, and Ilsa leans into the touch. 

“Hey, ‘lanna?” Ilsa murmurs after a second, and Alanna’s eyes find hers, encouraging her to go on. “Date me?” She asks, and Alanna breaks out into a bright smile. 

“Yeah,” she says softly, pulling Ilsa in closer by the waist. “I’d like to.” Alanna’s blue eyes are earnest and soft, and Ilsa smiles into the ensuing kiss, cupping Alanna’s cheek delicately as she adjusts to the height difference, and her only thought is: Yeah, I could get used to this.

Some bonus songs that didn’t make the final cut: 

Solid- MUNA

Dive- Holly Humberstone

Silk Chiffon- MUNA

I choose you- Sara Bareilles

Somebody I fucked once- Zolita

A night to remember- Beabadoobe and Laufey

Kiss me- Sixpence none the richer

Best part- H.E.R (feat. Daniel Ceaser)

Make me happy- Wheein

Valerie- Mark Ronson (feat. Amy Winehouse)

Want me- Baby queen

You & me- Jennie

Drinks or coffee- Rosé

Sinner- The last dinner party

And last but not least, the promised ref photos :))

These were the original inspiration for Alanna's outfit in the first few chapters (MUNA!)

These were what I had in mind for dynamic and stuff onstage (had to throw that photo of Vanessa and Rebecca in there to remember who I was dealing with lol)

This was my inspiration for Alanna's final outfit which I fell in love with as soon as I saw it

This was my biggest inspiration for Grace and Paris on the bus because they just look so cute and cuddly

And that's it! Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading :))