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“Did you move the picks?”
Your head turned, eyes finding your disgruntled manager yelling at you, and you shook your head rapidly. “Sorry Robby, last I saw them they were next to the bass like usual.”
“Well look at that, they must be growing legs and learning to run!” Robby groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Maybe they can headline instead!”
“They’re right here.”
Robby turned to look as your best friend Samira walked into the green room, a case of picks in her hand and a perfectly manicured eyebrow cocked at the older man’s attitude. “They were next to the bass.”
“They definitely weren’t a minute ago, but thanks for finding them.” Robby had the decency to look embarrassed when Samira handed them over, taking them and sighing quietly before glancing back at the two of you. “Copper Veins are going on now, so you’ve got an hour before you’re on.”
“Sounds good.” You nodded, turning back to the mirror in front of you and picking your eyeliner pencil back up.
Robby nodded at the two of you again before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving you and Samira alone. The lead singer grabbed a water out of a cooler and walked to sit on the counter, jumping up so she was sitting with her back to the mirror next to you. “What’s got him all wound up tonight?”
“Isn’t Heather due soon?” You asked carefully, trying to avoid moving your face in a way that would smudge your makeup. “I bet he’s just stressed out over that.”
“Good point,” she agreed, taking a sip of the water and looking down at your face, “Okay, definitely do the blue again, that’s the best look you’ve done the whole tour.”
“Aw, thanks, Mira.” You said, glancing up at her and smiling. “I had to do something other than red since Twitter said you’ve basically trademarked that color now.”
Samira waved a hand and rolled her eyes, but you could see the small grin and blush dusting her face at the mention of all the tweets hyping up how good her red lip always looked during sets. You grinned, turning back to the mirror and blinking a few times to make sure the eyeliner wouldn’t run too hard from where it was under your eyes, before using your finger to smudge it around carefully underneath your waterline.
“Any idea where everyone else went?” You asked once you had smudged the blue to your liking, setting it aside and picking up the black liner you used to do the wings on top.
“Well, I think the merch table opened, so Mel and Cassie are out there,” you didn’t even think about the fact that the start of the show meant the merch table was probably swarmed by concertgoers right now, “Jack was supposed to be finding Robby to do a final count on the numbers for the night, Mateo is probably cheering on Copper, and I’m not really sure where Frank is at this point.”
“As long as he’s here by call time, I don’t care where he is.” You muttered, flicking the pen so it drew a sharp line and exhaling deeply when you pulled the pen away from your eye. “How’s Jack feeling about tonight?”
Samira blushed a little but grinned despite herself. It was the first show the band would be playing since her and Jack Abbot, one of the band’s managers alongside Robby, became Twitter official. A fan accidentally stumbled upon them at the show prior, and it spread like wildfire on the trending tab within minutes. “He’s acting like he doesn’t care what happens, but he’s been tapping his fingers on his knee all day, and I don’t think he’s stopped clenching his jaw once.”
“I don’t know what he’s so worried about, people have wanted this for years.” You hummed, nudging her knee with your shoulder and smirking. “Besides, it’s middle aged man May, haven’t you heard?”
“You’re awful,” she laughed and kneed you back, the gems on her tights scratching your arm slightly. “Your time on the jumbotron is coming, I’ll be the first one broadcasting it up there when you and Frank finally pull your heads out of your asses.”
“Oh my god, shut up.” You groaned, going back to your makeup and pretending you didn’t feel the burn on your cheeks at the mention of the bassist you’d developed a small (gigantic) crush on over the years.
“I will not shut up, it’s painful to watch and I need one of the two of you to just get your shit together already.” Samira declared, hopping off the counter and flopping on the couch instead with an ‘oof’.
“It took you and Jack years to finally get together, don’t go pointing fingers over here.” A second flick of the eyeliner pen, and you looked critically between the two wings, assessing if they were sisters or third cousins four times removed. It looked like the eyeliner gods had smiled upon you, because you were hard pressed to find any flaws between the two, and you breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Besides, at least you knew Jack liked you.”
“You’ve got to be the dumbest bitch I know.” She mimed hitting her head on the wall. “Blind as a bat, I swear.”
“Let me do my makeup in peace without all this judgement and negative energy from the peanut gallery, thank you very much.” You tossed a makeup brush over your shoulder at her, smirking when you hear an “ow!” from behind you. “Should I do my hair tonight?”
“I’m kinda into the day old curls you’ve got going on,” Samira popped up off the couch to look at you critically, “very grunge rock of you.”
“I’ll take it. Want to do my lashes for me?”
“Absolutely.” She walked over and grabbed the fake lashes you used, wiping some glue on the edge and fanning it to make it tacky. While she did that, she shot you a serious look, raising her eyebrow in the same manner she had judged Robby earlier with. “You know I’m just picking on you because I love you and want you to be happy, right?”
“I know, I love you too.” You said instantly, drumming your fingers on the counter in front of you instinctively. “I am happy, Mira, I love doing this with you guys.”
“I know, I just want to see you and Frank happy together too.” She looked at the lash, then back at you. “Hold still.”
“You’re sweet.” You murmured, holding as still as possible while she placed the lash carefully along your eye. “If he liked me, I’d be down in a heartbeat, you know that.”
“The fans-”
“The fans would advocate for me to date a cool rock with googly eyes if it felt right to them, Mira, I don’t trust a single edit or tweet they make of us.” You giggled a little at that when she snorted out a laugh. ”Love them to death, but it’s the truth.”
“Remember the stories we found of you and that one specific bartender from the House of Blues in Orlando?” She asked, and a new round of laughter burst out of both of you, leaning her forehead on your shoulder and you taking extra care to not scrunch your eye up and ruin the lash that was drying.
“Trinity did the funniest voice reading that one, holy shit.” You got out, laughing harder at the memory of the Copper Veins frontman reading the story dramatically to both bands one night on the tour bus. “I thought I was going to pee laughing.”
“If only Frank had found it as funny as we all did,” Samira agreed, grabbing the second lash and repeating the glue process while you internally rolled your eyes, laughter dying down, “I thought he was going to punch a wall before he left.”
“He had food poisoning, be nice.” You kicked her in the shin, and she scoffed.
“You believed that lie?”
“You’re the worst, I don’t know why we’re friends.” You complained, and you could practically see her shit eating grin even with your eyes shut.
“Because you’re hopeless at doing your lashes, probably.” A pause, then she spoke again. “Okay, you’re all set, you can open your eyes.”
You opened your eyes and nodded appreciatively, “Thanks, Mira, that’s perfect.”
“Anything for you.” She winked, looking at herself and you over in the mirror. “Damn, we really saved the best looks for the hometown show, huh?”
“If we hadn’t, they’d have stoned us in the streets.” You agreed, looking in the mirror with her and finding yourself agreeing with her despite the fact that she had literally picked out your clothes for you.
As the frontwoman of the band, Samira was always dressed to the nines- but you would argue that it was impossible for her to look bad in anything she wore. A deep red lace fitted dress with long sleeves that covered part of her hands, gemstone studded tights, and black boots with red and black charms on them created the perfect mixture of slightly grunge and extremely gorgeous. Her curls were down and her makeup was sparkly and sharp, the signature red lip and silver studded jewelry tying it together.
Rhythm guitarists got a little less central attention, but you still needed to fit the vibe, so you had to plan carefully. Your outfit of the evening was a dark blue graphic tee that would have threatened to cover the leather skirt on your legs if you hadn’t taken scissors to it and cropped it at your stomach in a horrifically jagged manner, fishnets, combat boots, and a few carefully chosen pieces of blue and black jewelry. The blue on your shirt matched the blue of your eyeliner, and paired with the slept in and artfully messy look your hair had, you looked every bit the part of guitarist for an indie rock band.
“Hang on, let me get a picture.” She grabbed her phone off the table, standing back beside you with her body angled towards yours and the phone held up beside her face. You quickly mirrored her and tilted your body to face hers, staring into the mirror at the camera and smiling.
Just as she started snapping pictures, the door opened, and you heard the loud laughter before you saw the two guys enter the room. Both of you turned your heads towards the doorway, watching the other two members of your band make their way into the green room.
“Wait, wait, are we taking pictures?” Frank was the first one of the two to notice you and Samira standing there watching them, eyes lighting up. “I want in!”
“I call front!” Mateo said, running over in front of you and Samira and squatting down in front of the two of you, immediately throwing both hands up in peace signs with a wide grin on his face.
Frank ran right up behind you and Samira, easily able to look over both of you even with your boots on. He put one hand on your hip and the other over Samira’s shoulder, smiling at the mirror and using the hand by Samira to throw up a joking rockstar pose. You instinctively leaned into his touch, the arm by his resting against his forearm, while you used your other hand to give Mateo bunny ears, eliciting a round of snickers from the entire group while Samira kept taking pictures.
“Posting and tagging you guys in my story now.” She said the minute the photos were done, opening Instagram and tapping away quickly.
Mateo stood up and brushed off his pants, throwing you a smile in greeting and walking over to the cooler to get a drink. Behind you, Frank slowly let go of your hip, grinning at you in the mirror until he stepped beside you and started actually checking his reflection in the mirror. “Ready for the hometown show tonight?”
“Pittsburgh always has the best energy, of course I am.” You scoffed, adjusting the bits of hair around the front of your face so they didn’t try to hang over your eyes as much. “Think you can keep up?”
“I should be the one asking you that.” He shot back, running a tiny bit of pomade through his hair so it would hold out of his face for at least the first half of the set.
“Hey, you guys kind of match tonight!” Mateo exclaimed, looking at your outfits and laughing. “Did you guys plan that?”
Samira looked up, eyes widening slightly. “You do! Damn it, I should have done blue tonight.”
“Great minds think alike, what can we say?” Frank said proudly, still fixing his hair carefully.
You gave him what you hoped was a subtle once over, biting your lip to hold back the hitch of breath you were sure would slip out if you weren’t careful. He looked disgustingly good wearing a dark blue graphic tee with the sleeves cut off and the hem ripped, baggy jeans with a studded belt, and combat boots that matched yours, except they had a silver Sharpie smiley face on the toe. His hands were covered in silver rings, and he had a guitar pick hanging from a chain around his neck.
“Actually, we do kind of match,” you said thoughtfully, humming before turning to lean against the counter and look at Samira, “you two missed the memo big time.”
“Hey, my socks are blue, that has to count for something.” Mateo argued, pulling up the hem of his cargo pants to show blue socks with stars all over them.
“We can’t even see those, Mateo.” Samira held back a laugh when he rolled his eyes and let his hem drop again, holding up her phone and pointing it at you. “(Y/N), smile, I want BTS photos to dump later.”
You smiled at the camera, one hand leaning back against the counter and the other holding up a peace sign. She snapped a few pictures, before moving her phone away and letting you relax again. You turned to look at Frank to see him already looking at you, eyes wide and blue eyes nearly black from how wide his pupils were when he finally met your gaze. He looked stunned by something, and you frowned. “Frank? You good?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry, just,” he let out a breath and shook his head, “we really did dress alike, wow.”
You raised an eyebrow slightly, smiling and nodding. “Like you said, great minds.”
“Your makeup looks, uh, great, by the way.” He said, eyes tracing along where the blue was on your eyes. “I like the blue.”
“That wouldn’t happen to be bias since your favorite color is blue, would it?” Samira called from the couch, smirking at you when you realized why she must have picked out your clothing so specifically.
“No, she looks beautiful anyway- I mean, the makeup looks great- I-” Frank stammered out quickly, hand running through his hair nervously while his eyes darted between you and her.
“Hey, you’re on in five.” Jack stuck his head through the door, successfully saving Frank from whatever hole he was desperately attempting to dig himself into.
You pushed yourself off the counter and straightened up, grabbing Samira’s outstretched hand to pull her off the couch and up to stand beside you. Behind you, Frank and Mateo trailed along, whispering something in hushed voices that you couldn’t understand.
“Thanks, Jack.” Samira said airily, grinning as she pulled you past him by the hand and let her other hand trail against his chest in passing.
“Don’t flirt with our manager while you’re literally holding my hand, you whore.” You said with a tone of mock disgust, following her down the backstage hallway towards the wings. You could hear the crowd singing along to the playlist that played in between sets, and when you reached the wings, the four of you found the opening band sitting on crates and gulping down water eagerly. “Hey, great job out there tonight guys!”
“Thanks!” Trinity, the frontman of the group and bassist, said with a smile your direction, wiping sweat off of her brow with a cloth and taking another swig of water. Beside her sat Whitaker, their drummer, and Victoria, the rhythm guitarist. They were a young, local band, and when the four of you decided to ask them to open, they had ‘muted’ the call to scream- not realizing they didn’t actually mute the call. “Good luck out there tonight.”
“How’s the crowd?” Frank asked, cracking his neck and bouncing on the balls of his feet, adrenaline and ADHD a killer combo for a musician.
“Amped up as ever.” Robby came around the corner with Jack, in ear monitors in his outstretched hands. He kept speaking while the four of you grabbed them and put them in your ears carefully, “It’s a sold out crowd tonight, so it’s pretty packed.”
“Hell yeah.” Mateo said, adjusting the collar of his shirt and grinning at the rest of you. “Bets on which side is the loudest tonight?”
“Left side, for sure.” You said instantly, dangling the other side of your earpiece over your shoulder. “I know we’re bringing that energy.”
“Uh, right side will beg to differ.” Frank said matter of factly with a teasing glare your direction. You stuck your tongue out at him childishly, and he just grinned, adding, “Do that again and I’ll bite it.”
“You can be freaks off the clock, not a minute before the show starts.” Jack huffed, Robby nodding frantically in agreement beside him.
“Rich coming from the guy who just went viral on Twitter yesterday.” Frank retorted, and Jack crossed his arms over his chest with a raised eyebrow. “Just saying!”
The lights out in the audience suddenly went out, and the screams that erupted nearly knocked you off your feet. The rest of the group clearly felt the same, Samira squeezing your hand tightly and Frank muttering a “holy shit”.
“Showtime.” Mateo said, flexing his fingers a few times and jogging out onto the stage first as always.
Despite how dark it was, the crowd could tell someone was on the stage, and it got even louder as they realized it was one of you. Frank was next, running across the stage to the right side and picking up the bass off of the stand it was on, and you followed close behind, darting left and slipping the guitar strap over your shoulder. The screaming got louder each time one of you ran out.
You and Frank stepped back by Mateo, eyes adjusting to the dark quickly, and when he quietly tapped his sticks in rhythm, you waited for your count before you strummed the first chords of your opening song. The crowd absolutely erupted, and Frank followed close behind with the bass coming in, lights slowly flickering. When Mateo kicked in with the start of the drum beat, buildup slowly boiling higher and higher, you couldn’t fight the grin on your face- this, the performing, was your favorite part of being in a band.
And when the lights kicked on, the three of you began to play the opening to the song like it was your life’s mission, holding the crowd’s attention for a few more beats until Samira strutted onstage and grabbed her mic off the stand.
It was absolutely electric, the way the crowd screamed along to the opening song. Samira had killer vocals, belting and carrying the tune in a way only she could. Mateo kept the drums going steady, curls flying as he moved quickly. You and Frank stood on either side of the stage, occasionally adding harmonizing vocals into the mic and constantly playing the guitars like your lives depended on it.
A few songs in, the crowd was fully warmed up and ready to go, so Samira began to speak while the three of you kept basic instrumentals going in the background. “How’s it going tonight, Pittsburgh?”
You looked at Frank when the crowd screamed again, finding him already glancing over at you with a wide smile that grew even more when your eyes met briefly. You turned away quickly after, looking back at your guitar and then at the crowd for a moment, eyes scanning the room and taking in all of the faces staring up at you.
“If you don’t know who we are, I’m not sure how you got here,” a laugh rippled through the crowd, “but for all the parents and partners who got dragged along, we are Losing Pulse!”
Another loud cheer, and you switched up the chord slightly, playing something still fast paced but a little deeper now. Frank caught what you were doing and immediately mirrored, changing the bass slightly to match your new rhythm without making it so Mateo would be thrown off beat.
“On the drums, give it up for Mateo Diaz!” Mateo dramatically hit all of the drums rapidly, before raising a stick in greeting in response to the cheers.
“On the bass, my right, your left, let’s hear it for Frank Langdon!” You glanced over to see him smirk at the audience, flipping his already wild bangs out of his face and step forward to play a few faster chords, eliciting a loud round of cheers- especially from the girls in the audience, which never failed to make everyone laugh (and make a little pang in your heart).
“On electric, my left, your right, the one and only (Y/N) (L/N)!” It was your turn to step forward, bending forward slightly to lean into the rapid chords you rattled off, ending the round with a dramatic strum that left you holding your pick up in the air and grinning wildly at the screaming crowd. If you were paying attention, you would have noticed the way the guys in the crowd screamed a little louder for you, and noticed the way Frank’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly at that.
“And,” you stepped forward to the mic for this part, “middle of the stage, the goddess in red, put your fucking hands together for Samira Mohan!”
Frank and you mimed worshipping her for a few beats while the crowd cheered, Samira laughing at your introduction and blowing a kiss to you. You mimed catching it in your hand and tossing it into the wings towards Jack, winking when he rolled his eyes and glared at you in true Jack fashion.
Samira stepped back to her mic then, launching you straight into the next song. The crowd was incredible, bringing the energy you all needed and then some. It was easy to feed off of their excitement, especially at the halfway mark where you started to feel the exhaustion set into your bones despite the adrenaline coursing through you.
At the start of one song, you let your guitar hang while you raised your hands and clapped above your head, getting the audience to clap along with you. Once they had the rhythm down, you started strumming again, glancing over at Frank out of habit to see what he was up to.
He was already looking at you, staring unabashedly with a smile softer and more sincere than the one he gave the general public. When you met his eyes, he lit up, smiling wider and tilting his head to flick his bangs off of his forehead, the sweat and movement long since ruining whatever styling he had attempted. You grinned back, thankful for the fact that you were already flushed so that the blush crawling over your cheeks would be less noticeable.
The rest of the show passed flawlessly, the four of you playing off of each other and the crowd like it was as natural as breathing. Samira went into the pit at one point, jumping and singing with the fans- who, under the direct supervision of Jack and Robby, kept a respectful distance and didn’t try to grab her. You and Frank moved around the stage with ease, bumping into each other playfully from time to time, standing beside Mateo, dancing with Samira, or just engaging with the crowd on your sides of the stage.
The time came for you all to do your fake exit, waving to the crowd and running offstage to the wings. In reality, like all the fans knew, this was a 1-2 minute break before the encore, and they had already started the chant the moment you vanished out of sight.
“Holy shit, they’re insane out there tonight.” You gasped, drinking water eagerly and setting your guitar in its stand. The final song you always ended on was acoustic, and it was Mateo who got to play that one, giving you and Frank a break to just walk around the stage and engage the crowd.
“I’ve never heard them that loud before.” Mateo agreed, shaking his hair like a wet dog and grimacing when sweat dripped out. “I’m going to have the best shower of my life after this.”
“You ready for the last song?” Frank asked Samira, lifting up the edge of his shirt and using it to wipe his forehead. You couldn’t help but stare at his exposed stomach and chest when he did, the toned lines formed from years of work glistening with sweat. You looked away before he could catch you, but the looks on Samira and Mateo’s faces told you they had caught you red handed.
“Extremely.” She replied with a hiss, cracking her neck and wincing when it let out a particularly loud pop. “Mateo, you got the guitar?”
He held it up in confirmation, and she nodded, moving to stand beside him in preparation for the return to the stage. Frank came to stand beside you, side brushing yours as he leaned down close enough that you could feel his breath on your ear. “What’s the plan?”
You felt a shudder run down your spine from his breath, holding it together as best as you could when you felt his lips curve into a smirk against your ear. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing, and you forced yourself to not react. Two could play at that game.
Turning your head so you were looking at him, faces close enough you could see the sliver of blue left in his eyes even in the low light, you smiled innocently and raised yourself onto your toes to speak directly into his ear now. “I was planning on mimicking what Sabrina Carpenter does during Juno, do you know that one?”
You stood flat on your feet again and saw how his face changed, pupils blown and lips slightly parted as he breathed out a strained, “Jesus, (Y/N).”
“I don’t know, we can just wing it tonight.” You said, flustered under his intense stare and the fact that he hadn’t moved away from you an inch- somehow, he seemed even closer.
“Hey, lovebirds,” Samira whisper-yelled, smirking like the cat that got the cream when both of your heads whipped to face her with twin blushes, “we’re on.”
She and Mateo ran back onstage, you and Frank following close behind. The crowd erupted into cheers again, thrilled at your reappearance. Samira and Mateo stepped to the front of the stage while you and Frank hung back behind them, standing on either side of them and clapping with the audience for them.
Slipping into the song, the crowd turned their phone flashlights on and began to wave them side to side while Samira sang into the microphone and Mateo strummed along. You sang too, no mic in front of you and no worries of your voice being picked up while you watched your best friend with a proud smile on your face.
You were so busy watching your friends perform that you didn’t even notice Frank move to your side of the stage until you felt his arm brush yours, startling you out of your concentration as you jerked your head to look at him. He looked down at you, singing along with Samira under his breath and letting his arm continue to press softly against yours, fingers brushing yours cautiously.
There was a moment of hesitation in your mind while he stood beside you, something in his eyes and body language you didn’t usually see from him, before you decided to push that hesitation aside and press your fingers against his more firmly. His eyes lit up, mouth curling into a delighted grin that changed the sound of his voice while he sang, and he instantly threaded his hand with yours, larger fingers curling around your smaller ones like it was second nature.
You beamed back at him, holding his gaze for a moment longer before you turned back to the crowd- the crowd that you had momentarily forgotten was there, with cameras, thoroughly invested in whatever was happening between you and Frank at the moment. Half of them were engrossed in Samira and Mateo’s duet, the other half were still singing along while filming you like a tourist attraction, covering their mouths with excitement and shaking each other vigorously.
“I forgot they all have cameras.” You whispered, tilting your head in just the right way to get Frank to hear you.
His eyes darted towards the crowd, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth when he saw all of the cameras trained on the two of you, before he leaned down just enough to whisper back, “I didn’t.”
Just as he said that, Samira finished singing, and the crowd burst into the loudest cheers you had heard all night. The two of you joined in, letting go of each other’s hands to clap and jump around with excitement while Mateo set the guitar down and Samira breathed a sigh of excited relief.
The four of you lined up, you on Samira’s free side and Frank beside you, arms around each other. You instinctively draped your arms around their shoulders, Samira and Mateo doing the same, but Frank wrapped his arm around your waist and let his hand rest comfortably on your hip this time, eyes shooting to yours nervously for any indicator that you were uncomfortable or upset. When he found nothing but surprise and ill-concealed joy, he squeezed your hip casually and turned back to the crowd with a beaming smile.
You took your bows, pointing to each other to get solo bows in as well while the crowd continued to lose their voices shrieking. When the bows were done, Samira stepped forward, and the crowd fell silent obediently to listen to what she had to say. “Thank you guys so, so fucking much for being here. This being not only the final stop on the tour, but also our hometown show, made this so much more meaningful to us.”
You nodded fervently, putting your all into focusing on Samira’s words when Frank slowly slipped his hand off of your hip and around your waist instead, using his arm to pull you against him carefully. “ If you two would get your heads out of your asses” , Samira had said earlier when speaking about you and Frank. Denial be damned, the way he was acting right now was starting to make you think your unrequited crush was a little more requited than you thought. You leaned into his hold, head carefully resting against his chest, and you felt him tense up before immediately relaxing and putting his other arm around your waist to hug you from behind.
“We couldn’t have done a second of this tour without our two incredible managers, Robby and Jack, or our incredible merch team, Mel and Cassie, so please give them a round of applause.” Samira said, leading the round of applause for your team. “We wouldn’t have half the show we did without an absolutely fantastic opening band, so please give it up for Trinity, Dennis, and Victoria, also known as Copper Veins.”
Another round of applause and cheers. “I know I speak for each and every one of us when I say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for listening to our music, for being here, for supporting us in each and every way that you do. To be able to tour and make music like this is a privilege and an honor, and it’s one we wouldn’t have without all of you, so please, give yourselves a round of applause now!”
Frank briefly took his hands off of you to clap, all four of you whistling and cheering appreciatively. The moment the cheers subsided, he clung to you again like a koala, resting his head on top of yours. You knew exactly what you’d find if you went on Twitter, and it felt like he almost wanted that to happen the way he was acting. Show off.
“We can’t wait to keep making music and touring down the road as long as you’ll let us.” Samira said finally, stepping back by the three of you and looking between all of you with a smile, doing a double take when she saw how Frank was holding you, eyes and smile both widening with surprise. “Thank you guys so much, have a great rest of your nights!”
The audience erupted into cheers again as the four of you waved, moving to leave off the stage. Mateo threw both of his hands up in a wave, jogging backwards off the stage while Samira blew kisses at everyone and mouthed “I love you guys” to everyone as she left. You waved like Mateo had, moving to walk away until a shriek left your mouth and left you clinging to Frank’s arms desperately. He used the arms wrapped around your waist to lift you up with ease, your back still to his chest as he spun once and then set you down again. He let go of you with one arm to wave to the audience, still holding you with the other, and the two of you left the stage together then.
Backstage, you all made it to the green room before collapsing onto the couches and chairs in exhaustion. Frank laid down on one of the couches, flopping down and yanking you with him in the process so you were practically laying on top of him, hands pressed to his chest to keep from entirely covering him. You shifted so you were curled up against his side instead, head resting on his chest and legs stretched out and tangled with his long ones. His hands found yours, arms around you while he absently traced the lines of your palms and knuckles.
“So did you two just decide to purposely steal our thunder during the encore or what?” Mateo joked, raising an eyebrow from his place draped over the other couch.
“Yeah. what the fuck is going on here?” Samira asked, gesturing between the two of you with her water. “Because just a few hours ago Mateo and I were dealing with both of you idiots being oblivious respectively, and now you’re all cozy onstage?”
“Both of us?” You and Frank said in sync, looking at each other with equal looks of surprise and embarrassment.
“Yes, both of you.” Mateo groaned, rubbing a hand over his face and throwing a guitar pick at you.
“I’m not talking about this with Tweedledee and Tweedledum in the room.” You said to Frank, tilting your head to meet his gaze and ignoring the pink dusting your cheeks.
“Agreed,” He said, before lowering his voice so only you could hear, “but I do want to talk about this later- as long as you want to, and I didn’t read everything wrong.”
“You didn’t. I want to talk about it too.” You whispered back, letting the shy smile spread over your face at the admission.
“Share with the class?” Samira asked, and when the two of you turned to look at her, you saw her sitting with her phone pointed shamelessly at both of you.
“Nosy bitch.” You grumbled, throwing her a middle finger while you felt Frank’s chest shake with laughter.
Just then, the door to the green room opened, and Robby and Jack came in, Robby clapping his hands together and speaking eagerly as he straddled a chair and rested his arms on the back of it. “You guys fucking crushed it out there tonight.”
“Excellent work, all four of you.” Jack agreed, walking and sitting beside Samira, who instantly curled herself into his side and let his hand rest on her thigh.
Everyone spent a few minutes debriefing, making plans on what the next steps were, and saying your goodbyes to the openers and merch team as they left. Robby kept giving you and Frank curious looks throughout the conversation, but he never drew attention to your sudden closeness.
After a while, the venue was preparing to close and the staff had already loaded all of the equipment onto the bus. Even though it was a hometown show and your cars were all there, it was still protocol for the equipment to get taken back to the studio for everyone to pick up the next day to properly unload the bus at the same time.
In the parking lot, you all said your goodbyes to Mateo, hugging him and waving goodbye before he jogged to meet Victoria and head to their cars. He had been less than subtle about his bias towards wanting Copper Veins to be the openers since his girlfriend was in it, but with how good the band was none of you cared a lick.
“Okay, well, I’ve got to head home.” Samira said with a yawn, glancing to where Jack stood by her car with a small grin. “Jack’s an old man and it’s way past his bedtime, so we’ve got to go.”
“Drive safe, Mira, use protection and all that.” You teased, giving her a tight hug and laughing when she tried to kick your shin and missed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Samira, see you tomorrow.” Frank said, giving her a quick hug and smiling at the singer, who smiled back and then threw a joking glare at you.
“See you two tomorrow.” She said, walking towards her car before stopping and turning back. “I expect full- FULL detail on what this-” she gestured between the two of you “-is tomorrow, got it?”
“Yeah, yeah, go home, Mira.” You exclaimed, waving a hand at her dismissively. She stuck her tongue out at you and turned back around, meeting Jack at the car and giving him a kiss before sliding into the driver’s side.
Once you had seen her get into the car safely, you turned back to Frank, who was watching you closely. Despite everything that had taken place that evening, you felt oddly shy and nervous out of nowhere, fingers playing with the hem of the skirt that suddenly felt too short and eyes staring at the scuffs on your boots.
“Hey, (Y/N),” Frank said softly, “you okay?”
“Yeah,” you said, looking up to meet his gaze. His eyes, while blown, were full of concern, and he had a slight frown on his face, head cocked to one side as he watched you. “Just… nervous, I guess.”
“Nervous?” He echoed, frown deepening. “What’s making you nervous?”
“You.” The word tumbled out, honest and blunt, and you watched his face morph into a mixture of confusion and worry.
“Shit, wait, I’m sorry,” he quickly stepped back from you to stand closer to his car, leaving a few feet of space between the two of you now, “I didn’t mean to- fuck, did I fuck up?”
“No, Frank, no,” you reassured hastily, raising your hands up and shaking your head, “you didn’t do anything bad, I swear.”
“Nothing bad?” Some of the worry fell from his shoulders, but there was still concern etched in every line of his face. “So I did something? (Y/N), I’m so sorry, whatever it is, I-”
“It’s just…” You cut him off and then trailed off, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “It’s… it’s a good nervous.”
Frank paused, wheels visibly turning in his head, before his eyes widened and he let out a soft “oh”. You pressed your lips together in a line, fingers back to playing with the hem of your skirt, waiting to hear what he would say next. A pause, then he spoke, the concern melting off of his face. “Is… does this have to do with what Samira said earlier? About her and Mateo talking to us?”
“Yeah,” you admitted, and you heard him let out a slow breath, “which I know is stupid, because we just cuddled and shit, but we didn’t- we didn’t talk about anything, and I- it’s easier to be, I don’t know, calm when there’s other people around, but now it’s just us and I’m- if you didn’t mean it earlier, I get it, I-”
“I like you.” He cut you off quickly, seemingly catching himself by surprise the same way he did you based on the expression of surprise he suddenly wore. Your cheeks were flaming, and you saw the red on the tips of his ears and neck. “I, uh, I’ve liked you for… shit, a couple years now, if I’m being honest.”
“Oh.” It was your turn to whisper, and his turn to be the shy one, ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “I like you too, for years.”
His head snapped up, blue eyes meeting yours instantly. “Really?”
“Yeah.” You confirmed, a smile slowly spreading on your face. “I thought I was being obvious, I’m really bad at hiding stuff.”
“I thought I was being obvious,” he emphasized, pointing at himself with his own growing grin, “especially tonight.”
“I mean, I figured something was different, but the high of the show sometimes-”
“(Y/N), I saw you in that outfit- that skirt, Jesus fucking Christ, and I had to spend the next twenty minutes calming down in that room before the set.” Frank said bluntly, shamelessly looking down at where the hem of your skirt met your legs again. “And then you made that Juno joke to me, and I swear to God, if we hadn’t been about to go onstage, I would have-”
“Would have what?” You asked, confidence slowly building back up now.
Your confidence was instantly mirrored by him, and you watched him straighten up and meet your gaze, something heavy and darker in it than before. Your breath hitched, and he smirked slightly. “I would have fucked you with that skirt still on and made sure everyone on the internet knew you were mine.”
Any semblance of a reply you had vanished into the wind, entire body freezing up and eyes going wide at the boldness of his words. Frank watched you carefully, assessing your reaction, and when you pressed your thighs together slightly at the words, his grin widened into something almost predatory. “Oh, you like that?”
“That’s not fair,” you breathed out, “you can’t just say shit like that to me out of nowhere.”
“Why not?” He tilted his head to the side. “You’re the one who asked, sweetheart, I was just answering your question. What happened to all that attitude, sweet girl?”
Good God, the pet names , you thought to yourself, holding back a moan that would have embarrassed you to death. A heavy silence fell over the two of you, tension so thick you could have easily cut it with a knife if you tried. Neither one of you spoke, standing beside your respective cars, before Frank muttered, “Fuck it.”
In two steps, he was in front of you, pressing you against your car with one hand on your hip, one on the back of your neck, and a thigh in between your legs. His mouth was right over yours, breath fanning over your lips but not quite touching yet. Your hands flew to the front of his shirt, a gasp emitting from you followed by a poorly stifled moan when his pants grazed your soaked underwear.
“Please, baby, can I kiss you?” He sounded half a step away from begging, and you swore your eyes would have rolled back in your head at the near whine in his tone. How he was able to hold you in such a commanding and domineering way while begging was beyond you, but you wanted to explore more of it immediately.
“Yes-”
You barely had the word out before he surged forward and kissed you, pressing you against the car even harder. It wasn’t rough or harsh, but it was firm, desperate, full of years of buildup and tension that spilled over. He deepened the kiss almost instantly, the hand on your hip sliding down to the edge of your skirt and running along the hem, while the hand on the back of your neck flexed and applied light pressure that made your head spin.
You slid your hands up to drape around the back of his neck, one hand threading in his hair and tugging gently. He moaned from that, and your knees went weak at the sound. Frank bit your lip carefully, leading the kiss in a way that left you only fighting to keep up, before breaking away and immediately trailing kisses down your neck.
“Oh shit,” you moaned, clapping a hand to your mouth from embarrassment at the sound.
He lifted his head from your neck, removing your hand from your mouth with the one at your leg and staring into your eyes intensely. “No, no, no, baby, let me hear you.”
You let out a quiet moan from the way he said it and the look he gave you, and he grew a pleased grin, dropping your hand and moving his to the hem of your shirt instead, running his fingers along the exposed skin there. “Good girl.”
Returning to pressing kisses up and down your neck, he found the spot that made your breath hitch and immediately began to bite and suck at it, teeth dragging along your skin in a way you knew would leave marks for days afterwards. The hand on your neck moved to join the other at your waist, both hands slipping under your shirt and holding you there tightly, callouses and warm skin contrasting yours in a way that felt sinfully good.
He trailed his kisses back up to your mouth, kissing you again several times, before pulling away and letting his forehead rest against yours. Your breathing was coming out more like pants, breath mixing in the air between the two of you. He let his leg slip from between your thighs, setting you back on the ground fully but not removing his hands from you.
“I think I believe you,” you said in between breaths, meeting his eyes when he pulled his forehead away from yours with a furrowed brow, “I think you do like me.”
Frank rolled his eyes but broke out into a contagious grin, bumping his forehead back against yours and squeezing your hips before speaking, that faint tinge of nerves creeping back into his tone. “I want this to be serious. I want to take you on a date. Can I- can I take you on a date?”
“Please do.” You replied instantly, and he kissed you again immediately, one that didn’t work too well from the smiles on both of your faces.
“You have to go home,” he begged when he pulled away, “or I’m going to fuck you in this parking lot, and I really, really want to wait until our date and do it right.”
“You can’t keep saying stuff like that,” you whined, hands tightening against his shirt and hair.
He laughed lowly, kissing you on the forehead slowly. “I’m saying it to myself just as much, baby, trust me.”
“Okay.” You whispered, pulling away from him carefully.
He gave you another kiss, this one softer than the previous ones, and with a hasty goodbye, he adjusted his pants and hopped into his car while you got into yours. He wanted for you to leave before following suit, making sure your car started safely, which was something he always did that you always found sweet.
At home, you took a shower and flopped on your bed, head spinning from the entire day. You had a million texts from Samira, both in the group chat sending all the photos she took, and in your DMs telling you to check Twitter, and when you did, you saw the videos and photos of Frank and you onstage- him hugging you from behind, spinning you, the looks you were giving each other the whole concert when you thought the other wasn’t looking or even when you were looking.
You sent a few of them to Frank, adding, “ The speculation is insane right now, they’re relentless.”
He replied almost instantly, “Not surprised LOL”
You hummed to yourself, getting ready to type, but you paused when the three dots from him appeared first. “You should post this and see what happens I kinda want to stir the pot for fun if ur cool with that”
Clicking on the photo he sent, you saw it was one Samira had taken earlier when you were on the couch with Frank. He was laying down and you were on your side beside him, one hand resting on his chest and your head on his arm. He had his one arm firmly around your waist and the other playing with your fingers. Both of you were looking at each other, a laugh clearly bubbling out of you, and a lovestruck grin on his face.
You felt warm inside, and saved the picture instantly. “Bet, I’ll put it on Twitter.”
“Cool, I’m gonna put one on IG stories.”
You hopped over to Twitter, uploading the photo and captioning it “IYKYK ;)”. You tagged Frank in it and posted it, getting the notification that he had tagged you in an Instagram story and switching platforms quickly to take a look.
The story was the picture Samira had taken of you when you were leaning against the counter and giving her a peace sign earlier in the green room, fully focused on the camera. Beside you and unbeknownst to you until that moment was Frank, a grin on his lips as he looked at you with nothing short of adoration in his eyes, one hand on the counter near yours and one in his pocket. He had captioned it “She’s the more photogenic one anyway” and tagged you, a little heart beside your name.
In the morning when you woke up, your tweet had exploded, tens of thousands of likes and gaining. People had screenshotted his story and started spreading it on Twitter too, completely blowing up the trending tab. Under your tweet, Samira had commented “Hard launch photo creds?? XOXO”, Mateo had commented the confetti emojis, and the entirety of Copper Veins had reposted and commented hearts under it.
“ IS THIS BAIT???” “OMFG PLEASE BE REAL” “THEY KNOW WHAT THEY’RE DOING” and “mama a RELATIONSHIP BEHIND YOU???” were some of your favorite comments that you sent Frank, who downloaded Twitter and made a whole account just to start replying to the comments.
When you posted a selfie on your date later that night of him resting his chin on your shoulder and beaming at the camera, captioning it “ I guess I’m stuck now”, he responded instantly with “ No takebacks” . You definitely didn’t want any takebacks.