Your body was practically being crushed by clammy frantic fans, squeezed and jostled between them as they screamed grappling for the chance to get closer to the band members. The music blared so loudly that you could feel the music and intrustments reverberate through your core, drowning out any coherent thought save for the overwhelming feeling that maybe those front row tickets weren't the best idea. The air was thick with sweat and excitement, a palpable energy that crackled with anticipation and chaos.

Your eyes moved from one band member to the next until they settled on the drummer, the very reason you came to the concert the one who had convinced you to attend, and also the one who had gotten you those front-row tickets. Vermillion eyes caught yours, a smirk tugged on his lips as he noticed you in the crowd, His grip tightening around the drumsticks, each beat againt the drum growing more firm.

When the concert was finally coming to a close, you made your way backstage and waited for Bakugou, knowing he'd come find you the moment he got off stage. Sure enough, just a few seconds later, he appeared, all sweaty from the performance. His eyes meeting yours, and he approached you, a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction etched on his face.

"So how'd I do?" Bakugou's lips curled into a smug grin as he caught his breath, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. His head rested in the curve of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine.