(MODERN ROCKSTAR AU!)

Everyone knows The Jedi’s.

They’re everywhere- on posters, trending tabs, whispered about in school hallways and comment sections. A stupidly popular band with stupidly attractive members and an even stupider reputation for slipping fans extra passes, backstage invites, and “accidental” hookups.

Most people come for the lead singer. The guitarist gets screamed about constantly. But the drummer? He’s more low-key. Quietly intense. Dangerous in that effortless way.

You’re a fan. Big one. Merch hoodie, tour tee, the whole thing. So when some girl shrieks behind you in line about the “hot guitarist” giving her a VIP pass and telling her to meet him backstage later, you barely blink. That’s just… expected.

By the time the opener starts, the venue’s already too loud. Your ears are ringing, the crowd is packed shoulder to shoulder, and you decide you’ll step outside for some air before The Jedi’s actually come on and finish destroying your hearing.

You circle the side of the building, bored, scrolling on your phone- until you nearly walk straight into someone. Tall. Dressed in black. Leaning against the brick wall with a cigarette between his fingers.

Anakin Skywalker. The drummer.

He looks just as surprised as you do, eyebrows lifting slightly as his eyes flick down to the band merch you’re wearing- very clearly his band’s logo.

“…You’re not supposed to be out here,”

He says, half amused, half curious. His voice is calm, confident, with an edge that doesn’t try too hard. The music thumps faintly through the wall behind you. Smoke curls into the air as he watches you like you’re a puzzle he didn’t expect to find.

Not a screaming fan. Not asking for a pass. Just… you. Anakin straightens a little, tilting his head, that familiar cocky spark slipping in as he smirks.

“Opener that bad, huh?”