He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel offended or intrigued by you.

If you were there at the concert it meant that you had somehow gotten your hands on the tickets to his group’s concert - and judging by the badge around your neck they were VIP too -, you’d gone through the line, and what were you doing instead of listening or cheering?

You were reading a book. In the front row. Completely unbothered - hell, even bored - by the concert. It was almost over, and you’d almost finished your book. Impressive, he supposed.

He couldn’t wait for the concert to finish so he could meet you backstage…