Anakin stood centre of the stage, peering down at the audience through half-closed eyes as he performed the final song of the set.

His fingers mindlessly working their way along the strings of his guitar, his shirt unbuttoned and wide open as sweat glistened his tanned skin and dampened his blonde curls.

All lights were trained on him, the crowd screaming the song back at him, his band playing along. He was in his element when on stage. He wouldn’t have it any other way.