Next To Me // A Stucky Au

Chapter Eight

The day of the concert finally arrived and Bucky was filled with nerves. Sure, he was exited, but at that point in time he was freaking out a bit. Ok, a lot.

"What if they hate me, Steve?" He said to Steve, who was curled up on Bucky's sofa.

"Why would they hate you if they're going to your concert?" Steve replied.

"Yeah, but what if they see me and they're like, what a total loser! Or if they realize that they actually hate my singin'?" Bucky fretted infrount of the mirror, trying to make his hair perfect, even though he knew it would just end up being messed up again.

"Buck," Steve said seriously, looking Bucky straight in the eye, "if they judge you just by what you look like, then their probably the arseholiest people, like, ever. And why does it matter what arseholes think of you? Who cares about them? And they are literally there to hear you sing, I know they won't be disappointed."

"You're the best, Stevie," said Bucky, his nervousness going down a bit. It was still there, however. "Come on, let's get goin'!"

And with that they left Bucky's apartment and got into his car, and started their journey to the Brooklyn Steel. They got there and were suprised to discover a line already starting to form. They went round through the back door which would lead directly to the backstage area and Bucky was immediately found by Peggy.

"Oh good, you're here," she said, "Bucky, please go and check that the microphone is set up right, and be quick about it, thank you." And she marched off, clearly busy.

Steve walked with Bucky onto the stage, eager to see what the place looked like, having never been there before. They found Sam on stage as well, practicing last minute. He looked as nervous as Bucky felt.

He had only just finished checking the microphone when he heard Peggy yell, "Come on boys, they let the people in in a minute, get backstage." Not needing to be told twice, they all carefully put their things down and headed off the stage.

Once backstage, Bucky noticed two people who definitely weren't in the band or part of the place's staff. He said hi to Peter, who was practically on the ceiling he was so exited, and politely said hello to Clint's fiance, Laura, who he had only properly met twice before.

"We're letting them in!" Someone yelled, and the whole team rushed to the edge of the stage, hoping to get a glimpse of the people coming in. They were practically pouring in, and Bucky was shocked by how quickly the place filled up. How could they want to see him sing that badly. He looked over at everyone else, to see what they were feeling. Both Clint and Nat had triumphant grins on their faces, and Sam looked like he was about to puke. Bucky couldn't blame him.

Almost to quickly, it was time for them to go on stage. The lights dimmed, which was their cue to head on, and Bucky felt anxiety surge through him. What if they hated him? What if they decided that he wasn't good enough? Shut up, he told that part of his head, and he ran onto stage.

The white lights blinded him. His vision and hearing flashed momentarily, trying to cope with the drastic change in surroundings. Then he heard it. They were cheering. For him. For everyone else. With a surge of adrenaline, he stepped forward to the microphone that had been set out for him.

"How're you all tonight?!" He shouted out to the crowd. He didn't expect a response, but he got one. Everyone in the crowd cheered. "It's amazin' seeing everyone here tonight! As you may, or may not know, I'm James,"

"I'm Nat,"

"I'm Sam,"

"And I'm Clint,"

"But I'm sure you're not here just to hear us talkin'." He continued. "What are we waiting for?" The crowd cheered again. And they launched into their first song, just like they had practiced.

'Am I out of touch?
Am I out of my place?
When I keep saying that I'm looking for an empty space.
Oh, I'm wishing you're here,
But I'm wishing you're gone,
I can't have you and I'm only gonna do you wrong.

Oh, I'm going to mess this up,
Oh, this is just my luck,
Over and over and over again.

I'm sorry for everything,
Oh, everything I've done.
From the second that I was born it seems I had a loaded gun,
And then I shot, shot, shot a hole through everything I loved,
Oh, I shot, shot, shot a hole through every single thing that I loved.

Bucky smiled to himself at the crowd chanting along with him. How did this many people know the same song? Their song? He decided to let them take over for a verse.

Am I out of luck?
Am I waiting to break?
When I keep saying that I'm looking for a way to escape.
Oh, I'm wishing I had what I'd taken for granted,
I can't help you when I'm only gonna do you wrong.

It was magical. That was the only way to describe it. He played the rest of the song and then the evening seemed to rush by, and it was all to soon that he was thanking everyone for coming.

The lights turned back on, and he went backstage, only to be tackled by a Steve, who was giving him a hug.

"THAT WAS BRILLIANT!" He yelled, "when's the next one?" Bucky laughed.

"It sure was, that was the greatest thing ever I don't even know why I was worried!" They smiled and heard the rest of the team agreeing with them. His brain was telling him to kiss Steve, but he told his brain to shut up. Not here, not now, he thought to it. He wished he could kiss Steve.

The night still didn't end for quite a few hours. Everyone's adrenaline was too high for them to go home and sleep. So they ended up staying for a few hours longer. Once they had all calmed down enough, they got into their cars and went home. But Bucky felt like he could never sleep, and even when he got home he was still wide awake.

I am going to be so tired tommorow, he said to himself as he got into bed, but he really couldn't find it in himself to care.

A/n: helloloolooooo! Finally something actually happened. Thanks to all u still reading! Thanks if u ever bothered clicking on this story. Also fun fact: if you try to toy in the word clints into this with auto correct on (and ur on a Samsung tablet) it turns it to clients! Almost shit myself laughing. Peace out.