Crossmare Oneshots - (Requests Open)

Fame!

This was requested by;
YouNeedAFlippingLife

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Idol!Nightmare x Model!Cross
(Fluff, slight Angst)

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This request actually gave me an idea, I'm going to make two other Oneshots where Nightmare looks up to Cross, and the other one is Cross looking up to Nightmare. In this one, both of them are famous.

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Sorry for not updating for a while, I've been busy, and I'm going to make another book soon. I wont discontinue this one until it hits thirty chapters, or more.

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Nightmare's P.O.V

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The song finished, and the crowd erupted into cheers.

A few girls attempted to pull me down from the stage, and a few others swooned and fainted.

I scoffed, going backstage.

"That was amazing, Nightmare! You have such a great voice!" The person who controlled the music shouted over to me.

I rolled my eyes, I hear that everyday.

I continued to go through random doors, whenever I finish a performance, you're usually supposed to give out autographs.

However, I'm tired of random fans trying to kidnap and kiss me.

Security had to step in so many times.

I get it, I'm amazing and attractive, bit that's just ridiculous.

Call me cocky, call me ungrateful, I call it common sense.

My eyes locked on a door with a sign.

The sign read, "CROSS."

What did that mean?

I didn't hesitate going in, seeing as I was bored.

The sound of the door opening was enough to make everyone look at me.

And by everyone, I mean a lot of people.

There was a huge amount of photographers, I would estimate around a couple hundred.

There were makeup artists, and a very uncomfortable looking skeleton being pestered by all of these people.

The room was extremely vibrant, with many fancy and expensive items.

They all went back to what they were doing, probably assuming that I  was here to join them in pestering the skeleton.

"Stop putting things on my face, please!" The uncomfortable skeleton pleaded, attempting to push the brushes and beauty blenders away from him.

I growled, knowing what It's like firsthand to be overwhelmed.

I shoved by the photographers, who kept flashing lights in the poor skeletons face.