Dead Boys // Sam Fender

9

"This is awesome, you're awesome, and I'm so glad I chased you down," he smiles down to me. He's grinning ear to ear and bopping his head along to the music. I melt as he hums, "Now you're having fun, So do this and get through this, And come find me when you're done, So we can be as one," to me. This can't be real. He can't be real.

"It's a shame it took you 3 days to chase me down," I admit bravely. I've never been one to 'shoot my shot' but I'm also not one to dump their emotional trauma on a stranger, and here we are.

"It's a shame it took you 3 days to wear a neon color, Ave," Sam says, losing his smile a bit, "but let's be thankful that we're right here, right now, you and me."

I turn back to the stage, and he pulls me closer into his chest. As I dance along to the beat, I can't help but forget about the music and focus on how intimate our hold is. He's taller than me, but by the perfect amount so that my butt presses right below his hips as I sway, and I can feel that he enjoys it as much as I do.

After Tame Impala finishes, Sam and I follow the crowd to the final show. I shoot my friends an apology text, and we plan to meet at a fountain after the 1975 for Anna to drive home. When I look up from my phone, I lose sight of Sam. I don't want to act like a clingy fan to search for him, but I had also gotten the vibe that he wanted to spend the rest of the night with me.

"OI!" I hear from behind me, "AVERY!" It's Sam pushing through the dense crowd with fists full of beer cans. "When in the US, drink cheap beer ya know," he laughs, handing me one and stuffing the others into my backpack.

"My favorite, free!" I joke back, "I knew it was a good idea to keep you around."

"Considering I blacked out last time I hit the pub with the 1975 boys, it's only fitting."

"No fucking way! You know them?" I get super jealous. I would sell my soul to meet Matty Healy.

"Not really, I was in the right place at the right time, and they know how to have a good time. Guess I've gotten pretty good at being in the right place," he smiles down at me.

We get a nice spot in the middle of the huge crowd, drink, and tell funny stories as we wait for the show to start. The more he tells me, the more I realize that Sam really is a fun, normal, down to earth guy. He talks about himself like he's a bum, almost like he has no idea he's a gifted musician with powerful messages behind his words.

The lights flicker and the band comes onto stage, followed by screams. About 3 cheap beers down, I go crazy when the beats to 'chocolate' begin.

A little sloppier and free than last show, Sam and I dance and jump around, either amusing or annoying the people around us. It's not my fault that they don't know how to have a good time. As they are about to play 'Girls', one of my favorites, some guy that's like 6'5" moved in front of me and I couldn't see.

"No fear, Sam's here," and before I can process what he's doing, I'm lifted onto his shoulders.

"Oh my gosh! the view is so good from up here!" I yell back down, grabbing onto his hair to stabilize myself. It's really soft.

When I get more confident in Sam's ability hold me up (thank goodness I'm drunk or I'd probably freak out that I'm super heavy), I raise my arms in the air and enjoy the moment. Everyone around me starts to cheer, as we're projected on the big screen, and I can see just how happy I look for myself, with a grinning northern boy holding me up. I take a picture of the screen, so I can remember this moment forever, even after Sam leaves.

When the song ends, some people around us help me get down, and I hug Sam as hard as I can. "Thanks!" I yell into his chest.

The lights go from white, bright spotlights to soft pink, and the bassist plays a slow rhythm. I recognize the song immediately as 'fallingforyou.' How fitting.

Sam wraps his hands around my waist, and I move mine up to his shoulders, like we're dancing at a high school prom.

And on this night, and in this light, I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you.

Boy, am I in trouble.