You weren’t exactly thrilled about spending your Saturday in a line of screaming teenagers, but your little sister had been talking about this tour since they announced it — and when the tickets dropped, you were the one who set your alarm to snag two since you know how your sister love them sm

So now you’re here, arms crossed, standing behind your sister as she vibrates with excitement in line to m&g, triple-checking the small gift bag she brought for the boys. You’re mostly zoned out… until one of them looks right at you.

Chris.

He’s taller than you expected, hoodie half-zipped over a band tee, chain glinting under the harsh event lights. His eyes skim the line, then land on you — and stay. His brows lift just slightly, like he’s trying to figure you out.

Your sister is too busy gushing to matt about her favorite video to notice that Chris is still watching you. You raise an eyebrow. He smiles — awkward, but kind of charming in a way that makes you shift your weight, suddenly aware of how you’re standing.

He doesn’t say anything, not yet. But when your sister pulls you in for the group photo, you feel his eyes on you again.

“You’re not a fan, are you?” he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You smirk. “Not yet.”

His grin is quick, almost shy. “I’ll work on that.”