To The Beat // t.h.

4

The idea of buying a t-shirt was pretty fun. And apparently, you weren't the only one who thought that. Far from it, actually, The line at the little merch booth quickly exceeded the length of the small concert hall. You wondered if they even had enough things to sell. Would it even be worth it to stand in line? You just waited for the stream of new fans to cool down.

Eventually, it did. Slowly, but surely, the line got shorter. You also noticed that there were a few people that had the exact same idea as you had, so you joined the queue before the rest could. You didn't even have to wait that long. Before you knew it, you were standing at the little table. There were piles of t-shirts and cd's, and there were more boxes behind the table too. They really came prepared. Harrison had just been folding up an empty box when you walked up.

"Hi. Can I get a (your size)" you asked, already pulling out your card to pay, "and a CD?"

"Yeah, of course," Harry grabbed a shirt for you with a smile. Tom had been talking to the girl that had been in line in front of you, but he quickly turned to look at you when he heard your voice.

"y/n!" He finished the conversation with the other girl before moving over to join his bandmate.

"Hey," you wish it hadn't been so, but a lot changed since the first time you spoke to him, let it only have been about an hour. There was something about him being in the band you just watched perform and buying his merch, that made you feel like a little school girl standing next to him.

"I thought you had left." He noticed you leave? Not the point.

"No, I just went to the back. It was getting a bit hot for me upfront."

"Ah," he nodded. "Did you enjoy the show then?"

"Yes!" you said, a bit too loud, "You guys were great." You looked at the CD that Harry had just handed you and smiled. "And I was wondering if you could maybe sign this for me?" Out of nowhere, Harrison appeared behind Tom, grabbing the CD from your hands and putting his signature right at the centre of the packaging. Just as quickly as he appeared, he went back to whatever he was doing before. But not without sending you a wink first. What was it with these guys and winking? Not that you really minded it.

Harry took the slightly more polite approach, waiting for you to hand him the CD and he signed it above Harrison's signature. Then he handed it over, together with the marker, to Tom.

"So, we got ourselves a number one fan, huh?"

"No, I'll just wait 'til you guys get famous so I can sell it on the internet and get rich." That was probably not the response Tom had expected, which you immensely enjoyed. Next to him, Harry erupted in a fit of laughter.

"Haz, did you hear that? She thinks we'll be famous." His laugh was even better close up. While Harry and Harrison kept on laughing, you used the moment to speak to Tom, one on one.

"So why didn't you tell me you were in the band?" you asked.

"What does it matter," he chuckled.

"You let me ask all those questions about the band, it's fucking embarrassing, man." you couldn't help but laugh yourself.

"Heh, sorry." he took off his cap to rearrange his hair since some of it had fallen in his eyes through the night. You didn't know what else to say, so the conversation died down. Then you remembered that there was still a bit of a line behind you of people that wanted to buy the merch as well.

"Let me just pay for these, and I'll be off."

"No, it's fine, on the house," Tom said. You looked at him with wide eyes.

"Are you sure? It's really no problem."

"Yeah, just promise me one thing."

"What?" You raised an eyebrow, not sure what to expect. You didn't want to jump onto that wagon too quickly.

"Will you stay? I'd really like to hang out."

You weren't sure what to answer at first. You did want to stay and talk to him, but it was getting late, and you had been standing for a long time, and you were kinda gross from how warm it was during the concert... but Tom was really hot. And he asked so nicely.

"Sure." you gave in. "I'll hang out with my friend at the bar and let ya get back to-" you pointed around the table to make your point across. He nodded and waved you goodbye as you walked away, clutching on to your newly bought merchandise.

Just like you thought, your friend was indeed still at the bar, cleaning up leftover glasses from the counter. She saw you walk over and you could tell she saw something different in you.

"Look at you beaming, girl! What happened?" she put away the half-dried glass to listen to you.

"Nothing?" you said casually. She saw right through you though, so you just decided to give up the little act. "Tom asked me to wait behind for him." You bit your lip, expecting to get a lecture from her. But none of that happened. Instead, she squealed out in, what seemed like, excitement.

"Ooh, Tom is such a great guy!"

"You know him?" you asked, surprised.

"Well, he was the one that got their band the gig here, so we talked here and there, mostly planning," she explained. "And I mean, look at him." she sighed and her eyes glazed over a bit when she looked in the direction of the merch table. Not sure what else to do, you followed her action and glanced over. Of course, right at that time, Tom decided to look in your direction as well. He smiled and waved lightly, making your cheeks heat up and quickly look away. Your friend, however, waved back enthusiastically.

"So you think it's safe for me-" what were you even gonna ask her?

"Go have fun, I say. But if anything does happen, remember the codeword?" Her tone changed to a more serious one, which you appreciated. You had agreed ages ago on a codeword to use. In case a date turned for the worst, or generally if something felt off.

"Broccoli, baby. I know."

"Broccoli." She held up her hand for a high five, which you gladly accepted.

You chatted for a little bit longer. Every few minutes tho, you'd be sure to glance over your shoulder to see if the merch line was getting any shorter. It didn't seem like it. There was simply no end to it. You felt yourself getting frustrated. To the point that your friend actually pointed it out, snorting from holding in her laughter.

"He has got you whipped, hasn't he?" she bumped your shoulder playfully. All you did was roll your eyes. Which, actually, said everything she needed to know. He did, didn't he? You always had a soft spot for musicians, dated a few. But comparing them to Tom now... it felt like a joke. There was something about this guy that made you want to know more about him. You wanted to see him play and sing again. You wanted- do a lot of things. But you had to get that out of your head. Let the night speak for itself, see where it leads you. If it would be his bedroom... that would be fine. Just fine.

You knew you were crazy for thinking all of this, but a girl can dream, right?