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

6

"Hello Miami!" Clay shouted, his voice echoing over the stadium crowd. They cheered back at him, and you could almost feel the rumble from where you were sitting. It was crazy to think that you could have been in that crowd if Myra hadn't given you the roadie pass. 

Speaking of - you caught a flash of blue hair from down behind the set. Myra was looking around, no doubt wondering where you had gotten off to. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and texted her a quick look up.

She did, and grinned when she spotted you, coming over and climbing up to sit next to you. She was still in her stage outfit - silver harem pants paired with a lingerie type sports bra. The shimmery gray caught the stage light and made the whole outfit the mix of colors that was on the album.

"You absolutely killed it." You said. "You were so good out there!"

Myra tossed a lock of hair over her shoulder. "Well, I am a trained professional, you know." She joked, grinning. "Thank you though. There was one moment where I thought I was going to fall over, do you think everyone could tell?"

You shook your head. "Didn't look like it to me."

Your attention was drawn back to the stage below you when Nick started a steady beat on the drums. In the corner of your eye, you saw Myra perk up as well, leaning forward excitedly. Even from just the beat, you knew this song - 7.5 trillion, another good one from Behind the Mask. It was probably the angriest song on the album; a callout to everyone who thought that the Dream Team was just another corporate boy band and had only become popular because of their looks, not their music. That was probably another reason Clay wore the mask, now that you thought about it.

George came in with a little bass riff, and then the song started for real - Clay was singing again, and goosebumps began to snake up your arms. There was just something about his voice that the recording couldn't capture. He sounded like raw emotion, and it make a shiver light up your spine. You understood now what people meant when they talked about music giving them goosebumps - Clay was electric, so much that you could feel it. 

Say what you want about us... you just wish you had this... once in a lifetime... one in 7.5 trillion... chance...

You sand along, shouting out the words even though you knew no one but Myra could hear you. It felt almost like a church - hundreds of people gathered together, all singing along to a song that you loved. You could feel the emotion of it all - this song had hundreds of meanings, each one specific to a person. It was a cloud of feeling with Clay in the center of it all, like a priest coming to save his people. 

It was all very touching.

"He's incredible." You said, mostly to yourself. 

"Yeah, he is." Myra agreed. You glanced at her to see that she wasn't looking at Clay at all, instead she was focused on Nick, a sense of wonder in her eyes. He was a frenzy on the drums, moving so powerfully and fast that his drumsticks blurred in the air. He played with his whole body, and there was a sort of animalistic sense to it - you could see why Myra liked him.

You rolled your eyes, bumping your shoulder into Myra's. "I was talking about Clay."

She bumped you back. "And I wasn't. What about it?"

You laughed. "You're such a simp."

Myra rolled her eyes. "Says the person who was literally starstruck when Clay introduced himself. You've only talked to him, like, twice, and already 'oh, Clay's incredible, he's so talented'-"

"I'm a fan, alright?" You said. "I say almost the same stuff about you!"

Myra hummed. "I guess it's acceptable then."

7.5 trillion slowed to a close, but George kept playing, changing the bassline slightly - a little faster, a half step higher. On stage, Clay took the microphone out of the stand, pacing up and down the front of the stage to get a better look at the crowd. For a second, his masked face turned towards you and a jolt of nerves ran through you, and he began to sing again. 

Trance. The song title was fitting, you thought, because the watching Clay preform was holding you hostage. 

You didn't move the entire set. You were enraptured, tracking his movement as he danced back and forth across the stage. You could write an entire essay about his voice, but the rest of his performance was incredible as well - it was obvious that he had poured his heart and soul into these songs, and that they meant a lot to him. Passion oozed from him like a disease.

Of course, it wasn't all Clay - George's backing vocals were soft and complimented the roughness of Clay's voice perfectly, and Nick's insane drumming skills tied everything together with a solid foundation. Your eyes couldn't help but be drawn to Clay though - he was the star of the show. 

You wanted to stay right here, at this show, sitting up on some set scaffolding with Myra, watching the Dream Team preform, forever. 

But unfortunately, things did have to come to a end.

The last song (Not Found) ended, and Clay waved to the crowd one last time, bidding them a final goodnight and thanking them for coming to the show. The lights dimmed, and the curtains closed, and it was over. 

Myra nudged you in the shoulder. "What'd you think?"

"They're..." Amazing seemed pale in comparison to the show you had just watched. Incredible... outstanding... wonderful... "A religious experience." You said, finally settling on a fitting description. 

"Wow." Myra laughed. "A religious experience, huh?"

"Yeah." You breathed, running a hand down your arm to soothe the goosebumps away.