Kismet [h.s]

1

My ears are ringing profusely from the insanely loud bass playing through the arena speakers, the flashing lights nearly blind me while simultaneously assisting the alcohol pumping through my blood in winding me up.

My parents would kill me if they knew where I was.. The thought crosses my mind and I almost stop jumping with the rest of the crowd to reevaluate my choices but then my eyes land on the lead singer and my common sense is once more out the door.

I've been following Kismet over all social platforms since I was sixteen and now I finally get to see them perform.. There is absolutely no way in hell I'm letting my stupid parents get in the way of this experience.

The opening instrumental to Strawberry Lipstick suddenly blares through the room, everyone including me screaming a little louder.

"I got a toxic attitude and lack of self control,
A reasonably fucked up individual,
Need you to cleanse my sins
So I can go to school, P-p-p-please."

I push through the crowd and by a miracle actually make it to the barricade. I stare up at the band in awe, screaming the lyrics to their song along with them like I have thousands of times before in my room.

"They're gonna lock me in a closet, but I'm coming out,
Singing fuck all the oppression and the self doubt."

I lean my elbow up against the barrier and rest my chin in the palm of my hand, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot as I fully take in the men standing before me.

Suddenly Harry's guitar string snaps and I watch intently as he swings the instrument over his shoulder and quickly replaces it with the one being held out to him from back stage. His muscles flex with the bend of his arm, setting my insides on fire.

As if I'm in a fever dream he then makes direct eye contact with me, the guitar pick between his quirked lips. Harry looks me up and down with a smirk, retreating the pick from his mouth only to lick his lips before putting it back.

Holy fuck.

My mouth falls open out of what I can only assume to be shock? His eyes are still boring into mine with such intensity that the breath leaves my body and my once drunk mind is fully sober.

"You can have it all
If you don't take my heart."

Harry sings into the mic, keeping a close eye on me with the cheekiest grin plastered to his face. This can't be real. I must be dreaming.

The song comes to an end after what feels like an eternity, Harry still not having moved his eyes off of me. I'm starting to get a bit squirmy now, is there something on my face? What could possibly be so fascinating.

"Thank you Paris. We have been Kismet." The band finish in unison, closing their show how they have closed every show before. 

The lights cut to black for four seconds before lighting the arena back up, the band now missing from their positions on stage.

They're like magicians.

I laugh out loud at myself, the dumb thought repeating over in my head and flushing my cheeks pink. 

Everyone starts piling out and I find myself being able to breath again, no longer being squashed up against the metal bars at the front of the mosh. I decide to wait for majority of the people to leave and occupy myself by dancing alone to the playlist the crew decided to play while everyone dispersed.

I shuffle my feet and sway my body to the song Take Me Home by Franz Ferdinand. The beat starts famously shifting and my body starts to move on its own. My hands drag up the side of my thighs, my waist and eventually up into my hair until they're hanging in the air above my head.