You spot Dean a little out of his element by the backstage door, attempting to get past the security to make it into your dressing room.

"Dude, m'tellin' you, my girl's in there," Dean rubs his temple, before he spots you emerging from behind one of the security guards, and his eyes light up, expression softening.

"Just—just ask her, man." Dean gave you a gentle smile.

He relaxes more so, hands sliding into his pockets.

"You got a secret password, huh?"