The flashing lights, the roaring of the crowd, it all fueled the rush of adrenaline in your bloodstream. You were fixing your earpiece, the crew going back and forth backstage, making sure you were all ready. You caught a flash of dirty blonde hair, and Simon shot you a grin and a wink, to which you could just shake your head, fighting back a smile.

The cockiest bastard on earth, that Simon Riley. The embodiment of a rockstar from the 80s, with his wild hair, charming looks, and guitar skills of a god; you could’ve said he was almost as good as you. Everyone loved him, and you couldn’t quite blame them for it.

He’d taken a liking to you, but your relationship was…complicated, at best. The nights together were fun, but you knew you weren’t the only one. It was a bitter feeling, but you tried to not think about it too much. Instead, you tried to focus on the show, compulsively checking your guitar for the hundredth time.

The show was going smoothly, the audience was loving it, and it was enough to forget about the exhaustion gripping your body, the sheen of sweat on your forehead, your sore fingers seamlessly moving over the strings.

But as Simon’s solo part approached, you saw him walk towards you, and your eyebrows furrowed in a silent question as you saw him sling the guitar behind his back. Suddenly, he was behind you, arms circling you as he took control of your guitar.

“My string broke, had to find a quick solution, darling.” He murmured into your ear, the crowd going crazy at the seemingly rehearsed move, but it was all drowned out by your hammering heartbeat.