Y / N
You were going to your very first concert, and it so happened to be your favorite band, 5 Seconds of Summer.
You were going alone because well, you're socially awkward, that is until you met him at least. The only real friends you have are from the Internet, and I can promise you they aren't 45 year old men trying to get in your pants.
You opened the car door and tied your white converse before stepping out of your moms Range Rover.
"Bye, oh! And don't forget to call me after the show!" She said with her arm hangin over the window like a trucker. She waved you off and you nodded your head in comprehension. You straightened your simple black tee-shirt and pulled up your high waisted light wash jean shorts, while tying your red flannel tightly around your waist.
You slipped your phone into your black cross body bag and pulled out your balcony seat ticket, you weren't rich so you couldn't exactly afford floor seats, but what does it matter? You came to hear the music, not flaunt over the band members like most of the other girls there.
"Excuse me, can you take a picture of us?" A girl with blonde hair and glasses asked you. You looked over at her group of friends and noticed them all wearing 5SOS band tee-shirts and waiting patiently for their picture to be taken.
"Yeah sure." You smiled and snapped the picture. Oh how nice it must be to get to see your friends.
"Who's your favorite? You look like a Hemmings girl? Or are you an Irwin girl?" She asked in her nasally voice.
What is a Hemmings girl? Is Hemmings the name of one of the band members? Yiu didn't bother to learn their names, just the names of their songs.
"Oh uh, a Hemmings girl." You lied with a fake smile. I'm 100% sure I pronounced that wrong and I'm 75% sure they could tell I had no idea what I was talking about.
They looked at you with goofy grins and laughed when you turned and walked away. How embarrassing.
You made your way inside and read your ticket to find where you were supposed to go. You recognized the group of girls from earlier, along with everyone else rushing to different doors to get in. You, of course, were the last one and still didn't know where you were supposed to be going.
You looked at the arena map on the wall and looked for the balcony section but there was 5 different balcony sections. I am totally lost.
"Go down that hall and to the right." You turned around to see a tall guy wearing black skinny jeans and immediately recognized him as one of the band members you've seen on their album covers. He is attractive. Your eyes darted to his lip ring and you were pretty positive he caught you staring.
"Oh uh, thanks." You said looking down the hallway he was pointing at. The sign said 'Back Stage' so you were pretty sure you were going the wrong way. You looked back to protest but he was already gone.
"You're not supposed to be back here." A loud voice boomed in your ear.
"Oh uh I was told to go back here by one of the band members." You said turning around to see a man towering over you. He was wearing a blue shirt that said 'security' in the corner, and an earpiece that was connected to a walkie-talkie.
"Yeah sure, that's what they all say." He said gripping your shoulder a bit rough. He grabbed your ticket out of your petite hands and looked at it intently. "You don't even have a backstage pass, follow me." He then escorted you to a door that said 'balcony A'
"Nice try though." He said closing the doors behind you.
Great it already started.
You found your seat and sat down while everyone else was standing up and screaming at the top of their lungs. It was so crowded and sweaty up in the balcony where everyone was squished together and hardly anyone, except you, were sitting in their seat.
The reason this was your first concert was, for one, You're not rich, and two, social anxiety. This was way more than you could handle. You started to breath heavy as the lead singer belted out song after song, and the fans screaming at impossibly high frequencies. Maybe actually watching the band will take my mind off of all the people surrounding me. You watched as the tall boy in skinny jeans played with his lip ring in between songs. You tried to focus on him but too many people were pushing and shoving to try and get to the front of the balcony as they played their last song. You tried to hold out to the end of the concert but it was getting too much. You rushed up the stairs of the balcony and tried to open the doors but they were locked. You started to have a panic attack which didn't happen often since You try to avoid people. You rapidly tried to open the doors as tears started to stream down your face, people were starting to stare which made it ten times worse than it was already beginning to be. You then started screaming things and scaring the people around you.
"Wait stop." The music stopped but You continued to trash around to try and open the obviously locked doors.
"Somebody let her out." The angelic voice said. It was dead silent which was surprising for an arena full of thousands of people. The only thing that was heard was you. You wanted so badly to stop causing a scene but now everyone was staring, and I mean everyone. It just got about one hundred times worse.
"Somebody let her out!" He shouted into the microphone. You didn't even have to look to know that everyone's eyes were focused on you. You fell to your knees and started sobbing into your hands while still breathing heavy.
All the people around you were scared that you were going to hurt them or something. You felt a cool breeze rush through the now open doors so you pushed yourself off the ground and made a bee line to the nearest exit.
Once outside you breathed in the crisp air and pulled out your phone to call your mom.
"Can you just pick me up now?" You said still in tears.
"The shows over already? I thought it would at least be another hour? I'm in a meeting, can you wait?" She said through the phone, oblivious to your cries.
"Y-yeah." You replied through sobs. After saying goodbyes, she hung up and you were left sobbing on the sidewalk.
"Hey, are you ok? Was our music really that bad?" You heard a soft giggle and turned around to find the lead singer, skinny jeans, blue eyes, lipring and all.
You didn't laugh and he immediately knew something was wrong.
"So I see, now is not the time for jokes." He said walking over to you and putting an arm around your small frame. He gave you a look that was pleading for you to tell him what just happened.
"Sometimes, not very often, I get anxiety attacks. And there were so many people in there, I had to leave, but the doors.." You replayed the scene in your head and started to work yourself up to another panic attack, once again, you starting to breath heavy.
He rubbed his hand over your arm calming you down a bit.
"Well I have a show I have to wrap up, but you're welcome to wait backstage if you want." He said smiling down reassuringly at you.
You merely just nodded your head, and stopped your sobs. He lead you back stage, pass the security guard from earlier.
"Do you think maybe I could get your name?" He said turning around and flashing a blinding smile your way.
"Y/N" You replied with a smile, definitely not as great as his.
"Also, do you think I could get your number? I just want to be able to make sure you're okay, after today." He said with hope in his eyes. You smiled and with the nod of your head, so did he. You scribbled it down onto a small scrap of paper and placed it in his hands, which were much bigger than yours.
"Well I have to finish up, and then we can talk some more?" He said in question. You nodded your head again and his smile grew even bigger than what you thought possible.
He then led you to, what you guessed was a dressing room. 'H E M M I N G S' was printed in big bold letters on the back of the door. Just seeing that made you smile, remembering those girls from earlier, "maybe I am a Hemmings Girl." You thought, keeping the smile on your face.
I personally just want everyone know that you do not have to know the members of a band to like their music, it's not being a 'fake fan' it's just enjoying their music and you do not have to be a fan of the band members or a singer to be a fan of their music.
—my personal opinion
