AT LEAST IT'S ALL ABOUT YOU // Dream X Reader

5

The first show was in Miami, but you and Myra lived on the bus anyway. You had both already moved in, and it was closer to the stadium than Myra's apartment. Plus, this way, you could make up the Dream Team's offer for dinner. You ended up going out to eat with them almost every night leading up to the show, and by the time the show arrived, you had gotten to know the boys well enough.

You were still really excited to see them preform though.

The night of the first show was eye opening, to say the least. You had seen Myra on stage before, of course, but you had never seen the behind the scenes work. There was lighting and sound and dancers and makeup and costumes and then there was Myra in the center of it all, completely in her element. It was weird to see her so in charge and serious when you had always known her as laid back, funny Myra. 

"Y/N can you hand me that water bottle?"

You snapped out of your daze to hand it to her, watching as she took a long drought from the bottle and handed it back to you. Myra closed her eyes and breathed slowly, clenching and unclenching her fingers. 

"Are you nervous?" You asked. You were nervous, and you weren't even the one going onstage. There was just something about being here and seeing everything come together that made your senses tingle. 

"Not really." Myra said. "Just a ritual for getting ready."

You nodded, letting her be until she opened her eyes again, letting out a loud exhale.

"Okay." She said, turning to you. "Are you going to be alright while I'm out there? You don't need anything, or..?"

"I'm good." You said. 

"Okay." Myra smiled, holding out her fist for a fist bump. You knocked your knuckles together with hers.

"You're going to kill it." You said. 

Myra grinned, and then she was off, whisked away by some guy in a headset. You made your way towards the stage as well, only to find a good place to watch the show from behind the set walls. There was a little corner behind the set that no one seemed to care about, and once you had scaled the scaffolding, it was a perfect view down onto the stage. You couldn't see the crowd, but maybe that was a good thing - that meant they couldn't see you.

The band that had been playing while Myra was getting ready you didn't know, but they were finishing their set now, saying the final goodbyes to the roaring mass of people. There was a moment of nothing, and then Myra stepped onto the stage, and the crowd exploded.

You smiled to yourself. This was a Myra you knew.

"What's good Miami?" She called out, pointing to the crowd. 

The crowd cheered back at her, and from your close proximity, you could see Myra smile. You let out a whoop as well, even though you knew she wouldn't hear you. You hadn't been to one of her shows in ages, and you were excited to see her preform again. 

The band behind Myra began to play, the heavy bassline of her biggest song - Sinphony 18 - flowing out over the crowd. You loved this song - there was something so powerful about the slow beat and the heavy bass and Myra's raspy voice. It made goosebumps trail up your arms - or maybe that was because you were sitting so close to the stage you could feel the soundwaves.

You knew the words to every song on Myra's set (of course you did - she was your step-sister, it was almost a legal obligation), but so did the crowd. You had grown up with only you and your parents knowing the words to her songs, and seeing the hundreds if not thousands of people were singing along warmed your heart. Myra was talented, there was no doubt about it, and seeing that talent recognized, even though it wasn't your own, felt good.

 And there was the message of Myra's music too. Even from the beginning she had only written from the heart - songs about going through rough times and growing up and facing the real world, all while making the music deep and raw and unexpected. The music was good, and Myra put on a wonderful performance - interacting with the crowd and having fun on the stage.

Eventually though, the last few notes of her last song on the set list - the title track of the latest album, Insidious Reality - faded out and Myra took her final bow, waving to the crowd as the lights dimmed again. 

"Thank you so much Miami!" Myra called. "I'm sure you've all been waiting for the main reason most of you are here..."

The crowd built up into a violent roar, they knew what was coming - and you did too. The buzz of energy that had already built up under your skin became hectic. You were going to see the Dream Team live, and you were going to see them from possibly the best seat in the house. First times seeing people live were always a big deal, but this was incredible.

Smoke began to pour out from the floor, swirling around Myra's feet. "Give it up," She shouted. "For the Dream Team!"

The crowd roared again as a plume of flame rocketed into the air and Myra stepped back behind the stage to be replaced by the Dream Team, coming up from the middle of the floor. Clay struck a chord on his guitar and the crowd went insane, cheering and screaming as they began to play (Behind the Mask, the title track from their latest album).

The sound waves crackled over your skin, making the hair stand on end as Nick and George started to play. You watched as Clay grabbed the microphone with one hand, bringing it close to the white mask that kept his face hidden. 

When he began to sing, the world stopped.