INSTANT CRUSH: AOT One-shots

Jean » Heartstrings

j.kirstein ; modern!au

HEARTSTRINGS

━━━━

You always enjoyed closing up after gigs. Since you never got the chance to sit through the shows, it always felt nice to have a taste of their remnants. After the bands and patrons would leave, the pub would still feel hot and stuffy, and the smell of fading music notes, worn-out guitar strings, and sweat would linger in the air, filling your lungs with that thrill you loved so much.

Tonight was even better as you were left to do it alone. The tables were already cleared and rearranged, and all that was left was to tidy up the mess on the stage. Only the projector above it was left on, and as you approached, the sight proved too tempting. Climbing atop it, you crept closer to the mic and gingerly wrapped your fingers around it. It wasn't on but still radiated mild warmth. Your mouth hovered over it, and as you stared into the darkness before you, it gradually morphed into a crowd chanting your name.

Slow piano notes began playing in your ears, and that melody was suddenly all you could hear as every other noise around you withered away. The exhilaration swamping your chest was delectable, and your eyes slowly fluttered shut, your lips compelled to move:

"It's not simple to say
Most days I don't recognize me
These shoes and this apron
That place and its patrons
Have taken more than I gave 'em
It's not easy to know
I'm not anything like I used to be
Although it's true
I was never attention sweet center
I still remember that girl
She's imperfect but she tries —"

The shrill noise of a chair scraping against the floor tore you from your fantasy, and your eyes snapped open, landing on none other than the lead singer of the band that had performed earlier.

"Fuck," he muttered as he gave you a sheepish grimace and scrambled to push the chair back in its place. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt or scare! Please don't stop on my account."

With a racing heart and a burning face, you stood transfixed and wide-eyed, inwardly praying for a hole to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. He said something you couldn't make out in your daze, and once you'd regrouped, you hopped off the stage.

"H-how did you get in here? That door is supposed to be closed."

"It wasn't. I was actually gonna say that it's not safe to leave it open when you're alone here."

You looked over his shoulder towards the entrance, trying to recall whether you had locked it or not, but your embarrassment was too strong and all your brain could sense right now.

He could tell that you were uneasy and flustered, as you had crossed your arms over your chest and gone quiet again, and was quick to explain that he had forgotten his guitar capo after the show and was back to get it. As he went on stage to look for it, you slipped behind the counter to get a sip of water and hopefully calm down your nerves. He gestured to you once he found it, and you followed him on his way out to ensure that the doors were locked this time.

With a hand on the handle, he turned to you. "I'm sorry again. I didn't mean to scare or interrupt."

"No worries," you said, avoiding his gaze. "It was dumb anyway."

"No, it wasn't. Why do you say that?"

"Because I should've been working not doing..." you waved your hand in the stage's general direction, feeling the awkwardness of the entire situation starting to pervade your body again, "whatever that was."

"I think you were great. I was really bummed out when I ruined it. All I wanted was to take a seat and enjoy the show," he said, and your cheeks were set ablaze once more. "Do you sing often?"

You shook your head.

"Well, you should. You have a beautiful voice."

You looked down in silence.

"Here," he said as he fished a flyer out of his back pocket and handed it to you, "if you ever want a place to sing, give us a call."

"Are you asking me to join your band?"

"Hmm, consider it an audition," he smirked. "I might consider taking you in if you impress me. Though from what I saw, I have a feeling you will."

Rolling your eyes, you shoved the piece of paper in the front pocket of your apron and wished him goodnight.

Smiling at the cute glower that was now adorning your features, he was about to leave before stopping once more. "Oh, I forgot something else," he said, and you raised your brow in question. "Your number. I can't leave without it."

You tried to glare at him when he passed you his phone with a smug smile, but it was almost impossible to suppress a bashful one from pulling at your lips in return.

"You're so full of yourself," you said as you snatched the device and saved your number.

"Well, it works," he shrugged, "and don't you think I have every right to be? I mean, I am the lead singer of a band."

"Oh. Silly me. I completely forgot that your last album went platinum and you just came back from a world tour," you retorted with a phony smile as you gave him his phone back.

"Damn," he laughed, "with the way you stuttering earlier, who would've thought that you had it in you. I'd be lying if I said I don't like it though."

You wanted to retaliate, but his last words made it hard for you to do anything but let your teeth sink into your lower lip once more as a wave of heat surged up your neck. His beam became even wider as he relished in having made you revert to your timid self.

"You need a ride home? My friend is waiting outside."

"Your friend is outside, and you were gonna draw a chair and sit here to watch me?"

"Of course! I wouldn't have missed it for the world. It's a natural reaction to pure talent. I'm sure you would've done the same if the roles were reversed."

"Oh, God! Okay, Mr. Cocky, I don't need a ride. And good night. For the real this time," you shooed him away.

He insisted on dropping you off since it was past midnight and the neighborhood was empty, but you assured him that you were alright before rushing him outside.

"I'll call you, Ms. Flustered. And make sure to lock the doors this time."

You nodded with a smile and sent one last wave his way before retreating inside. A swarm of butterflies flapped in your stomach as you replayed the entire scene in your head, and the moment you were over your rapture and decided to get back to work, your phone buzzed.

I'm Jean, by the way. And I'm changing your contact name to Ms. Flustered.

And I'm saving yours under Mr. Cocky.