Matthew gets off stage and he's somehow a billion times hotter than he was two hours ago. It's cruel. He's the kind of handsome that begs to be looked at. You don't blame his screaming fans. Not when you'd definitely be one of them if it weren't for your lucky position of the vocalist girlfriend.

“Hey,” Matt says, slinging his guitar over his shoulder as he jogs toward you. His headset dangles around his neck, his hair sweaty and disarray, and yet he heads straight for you, brushing away a couple of techies who try to wave him down. He comes to a halt in front of you, still buzzing with onstage energy.