Your favorite artist was on stage, his band cruising the spotlight with his thousands of fans. The guitar that strums, the drums being beat with the sticks.

Giyuu didn’t make all that big of music, his life issues in a form a ball of lyrics.

Jumping up and down, cutting through line for the sake of an autograph, panting as you hold out your album of his.

Noticing his blue eyes take a glare at you, his lips curling a smile with those piercings.

“you seem overjoyed.”