The show ends and Dougie comes offstage buzzing — properly buzzing — like he’s had three Red Bulls even though he hasn’t touched one. His hair’s a mess, shirt sticking to him, wristbands half-sliding off. He nearly trips on a cable but pretends he didn’t.

Then he spots you waiting outside the dressing room, and his whole face lights up in that wide, boyish grin he tries to hide around the others.

“There she is,” he says, voice still breathless. “Did you see me not fall over during that last song? I deserve a medal.”

You laugh. “You literally almost fell twice.”

“Yeah, but almost doesn’t count,” he smirks, pushing his fringe out of his eyes.

Danny snorts as he passes. “Bro, your girlfriend’s got better balance than you.”

Dougie flicks Danny’s back. “Shut up, you clown.”

He grabs your hand for a second — quick, sneaky, like he’s embarrassed the boys might tease him — then drops it again when Harry walks past.

⸻

In the Dressing Room

The place is a mess. Towels everywhere, bottles on the counter, and Danny blasting music from a tiny speaker.

Dougie drops onto the sofa next to you with a dramatic groan. “I swear my legs don’t work anymore. Carry me home.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you say.

“Yeah,” he says proudly. “And?”

Tom starts filming with the camcorder. “Dougie, say something inspiring.”

Dougie looks straight into the lens and goes, “I’m sweating like a gremlin and I want chips.”

Tom groans. “I said inspiring.”

“That is inspiring. For me personally,” Dougie says, leaning back smugly.

Then he nudges your knee with his. “Was I good tonight? Like, for real? Not just ‘you’re my girlfriend so I have to be nice.’”

“You were amazing,” you say.

He tries to hide the smile, fails immediately, then shoves Danny to distract from his embarrassment.