One Shots

His Vampire Heart (Ville Valo)

Front row. I could hardly keep from shaking. This was the show I'd been waiting for my entire life. This was the music that got me through the day, the men who had saved my life without ever realizing it.

Chris, who had bought the tickets for my birthday a while back, was standing behind me, looking just as longingly at the stage as I was. Perhaps the only time I've seen him happier was when we saw Misfits, or, as I'm sure his fiancé would prefer, the day he asked Ange to marry him.

The band made their entrances one by one, and I screamed equally loud for each of them. The guitarist laughed when he spotted me, most likely amused by my childish behavior on display as the band of my dreams got ready to perform.

"Well, hello, Pennsylvania." The low rumble of his voice sent chills down my spine. The hair on my arms stood on end, but I was far from frightened. The tattooed singer spoke from a few steps in front of me, introducing the band before they began the intro to 'your sweet 666.'

Nothing could compare to the beauty of his sweet symphony of love and heartbreak. I became lost in the music, my mind transporting me back to the nights when I would lie awake, crying over sorrows that I'd rather not dwell on.

I didn't realize my tears had manifested in reality until I felt a cold hand caress my flushed cheek with a gentleness of a mother handling her newborn child. My eyes refocused, and I saw Ville Valo crouched down in front of me, his pale green eyes filled with concern as he continued to sing along with the band.

My eyes followed his for the remainder of the show, noticing the sparkle in them every time he would glance in my direction. "I love your skin, oooh, soooo white." Our eyes were locked, sending my face into a rush of heat as I struggled to remain calm in the midst of a stare down with my idol.

The concert ended that way, his eyes being the last thing I saw before the entire venue was plunged into darkness.

I sighed, wishing it wasn't over. Chris was still behind me, I could feel his body heat radiating on my back, but the other side of the barrier no longer held a security guard.

"Take this." His pale hand extended to give me a slip of notebook paper, which I took without hesitation. I unfolded it to read its contents, finding elegant letters scrawled all over the page.

I apologize for not having the means to do this properly, I'd planned on finding you in a more modest setting, but, fate seems to find humor in the unpredictable, so here we are.

Please, meet me in my hotel room (hotel address.) We have lots to discuss. -Ville

I swung my head up to ask him what we had to discuss, but he'd long gone, leaving nothing but dirty flooring for me to stare at.

The letter made no sense. He had no clue as to who I was, as we had yet to see each other, and what could he possibly mean by planning on finding me? As far as I know, a Finnish rock star has no reason to seek me out. I'm just a hardcore fan of HIM, nothing more, so how come he spoke of fate in meeting me? I'm sure I would've come to a concert at some point in my life, had I not been awarded the chance to go tonight.