Keira

Score: Youngblood - Five Seconds Of Summer

All Hell breaks loose in the stadium, as the drums join in with the guitar, and then the band comes running on stage, one by one, taking their places at the very front.

Right in front of us.

The crowd all around is going crazy, with women and teenage girls jumping up and down, crying, grabbing at their faces, hugging each other, clapping, crying, laughing, and screaming, screaming like there will be no tomorrow.

A voice joins in with the guitar and the drums, and, suddenly, I can't hear anything else around me. My attention is drawn to the person, whom the voice belongs to, and I can't see, hear, or fucking think about anything else.

This is not natural.

I have heard the band online, and I have to admit some of their songs have grown on me, even though I still think their music is nothing more than a classic girls' boy band act, but there is something about them, something about their performance on stage that makes me question my judgment, from the very first accords of their very first song. There is a certain appeal, a certain energy, that grips me by the throat and takes my breath away.

The song ends with a loud drum solo, and the stadium explodes into even louder cheering and applause. But then Benjamin laughs into his microphone and the crowd goes instantly silent, like on command.

OK, this is getting fucking creepy.

"Good evening, Barcelona!" He hollers and paces the stage from one end to the other and back again. The cheering erupts again. "I can't even begin to tell you how happy we are to be standing right here tonight! I hope you're having a great time! We love you!"

And then the band starts playing another song. It is one of their faster, more energetic ones, and the crowd is taking on the vibe, going absolutely wild, and...and I'm absolutely loving it!

"This is fucking amazing!" Lisa screams by my side, grabbing at my elbow. She's ecstatic, and tears of pure happiness are streaming down her face. "Thank you, Kiki! Thank you so much!"

I lean in and hug her tight. She squeezes me back and then breaks the embrace to wave her hands in the air and scream some more.

I can feel the grin splitting my face in half, as I turn towards the stage again.

My gaze instantly locks with Benjamin's...and I fucking freeze.

His eyes are dark and hooded, as they bore into mine, his face drawn into a strained expression. He's singing, his full lips moving, as he speaks some words into his microphone, but I can't make them out. I can only stand there, with my eyes locked with his, and let the fire consume me.

Because it feels exactly like that. Like a fire is burning in my veins, like my fucking soul is being called to him. I feel my pulse quicken, and the temperature of my skin rises to a dangerous level. I try to swallow but my mouth has suddenly grown bone-dry...Heat flushes my cheeks and sweet tension builds in my belly...

...And then he moves his eyes away and the spell is suddenly broken.

What the fuck?!

Suddenly dizzy and disoriented, I look around, trying to anchor myself to something, anything. I look at Lisa, but, by the expression on her face, I am certain that she is caught under the same spell. I don't need to look at Benjamin to know that he's locked eyes with hers, causing her to blush deeply, with her lips slightly parted, and her chest rising rapidly. Then, she blinks away, and I know that the spell on her is broken, too.

She turns to me slowly and gasps.

"Bloody Hell!"

"I know," I tell her, elbowing her in the arm.

"What the hell was that?"

My thoughts exactly. And then I look around and I see it, that same look on every face in the first row, like he's their hero and they'd do anything for him. Like they are under some kind of a spell. And I know I was there, too.

For the next hour or so, as the band keeps performing and the noise around me keeps growing to levels worthy of raising seismic alarm, I watch as Benjamin paces the stage, singing and playing his bass, and eye-fucking every girl in the front. The black jeans and black vest top he's wearing, the same as the rest of the band, are showing off his tanned arms and miles of smooth, tattooed skin, and he's got a beanie on, which he wasn't wearing back in the dressing room. I have to admit, he looks devastating. I can't even begin to imagine what that wicked smile, those sculpted shoulders, and these tight, black jeans must be doing to a fifteen-year-old's heart, not to mention that look. Oh, my God, this man does more with his eyes than some men do with their dicks! 

And it's not only him. The whole band, their act, their performance...They're all playful and flirty with their fans, and the fans seem to be very much enjoying it.

A sentence from their interview for The Sound of Music crosses my mind in a flash. Are you talking about the recent incident that happened with a fan getting injured while trying to get into one of your rooms through your hotel room window?

No wonder girls are acting like crazy around them, it's hard not to, when they are being like this. I've spent most of the day with them, and I hadn't felt any of it, not even once, but this? This is...something different. They act like one well-oiled machine, immediately catching on with each other, as they create funny little situations, or when the two Benjamins switch their guitars and perform each other's parts of Diamonds, or when they perform a hilarious dance to Master of The Sea.

Then, finally, they wish us all good night, Benjamin fornicates the crowd with his eyes one last time, and they run off the stage.

All the stage lights go out, and as the sun has long ago set completely, the whole stadium goes dark, except for the service lights at the sides. The cries of the crowd don't recede, though. If anything, they grow even louder. We all know there is going to be an encore, but the cheering of the eighty thousand people on Camp Nou tonight, calling their favourite band back on the stage sends chills up my spine. I can't imagine what the feeling must be for the boys, who can see and hear it all backstage. It must be so fucking addictive, but also a little scary, every time they come on stage in front of tens of thousands of people...

And then, the flashlight of a phone flashes to my right, and another one follows, and then another...until the whole stadium is lit up by the fans' phones, and the hot summer night air keeps carrying on their voices.

Suddenly, the stage lights go on again, the bright light blinding me for a second, and the band comes running back onto the stage, as the opening accords of Love The Dirty Of You tear through the screaming of the crowd. A scream rips from my throat, as I recognize my favourite song. I was kind of disappointed they didn't perform it earlier, but now that they finally are, it feels even more special, like they were keeping the best bit for last.

The song is fast, yet sensual, and, by the sound of the crowd, is not only my favourite. The girls around me are literally throwing themselves onto the fence, the pink-haired girl next to Lisa nearly climbing over to the other side, but Cam-The-Bodyguard, whom I had completely forgotten was still with us, is holding her down by the shoulders. I can feel his body straining to keep the crowd at bay, the waves of bodies crashing against his broad back and shoulders, as he tightens his grip on the railing of the fence, until his knuckles turn white.

The song speeds up, and the energy around me grows even more frantic, girls pressing forward and trying to squeeze under Cam-The-Bodyguard's arm in the hope of getting closer to the stage. I feel like I'm being crushed from both sides, Lisa pressing against my ribcage from the right and Cam's massive forearm sinking into my stomach on the left.

Benjamin is pacing the stage again, winding the crowd up, waving his hands above his head, escalating the energy even further. His final solo begins and the crowd is absolutely out of control now, a force that can't be contained...

And then, he stops in the middle of the stage, right in front of where we are standing, and turns the microphone to the crowd, for us to finish his solo. Everyone, including me, screams the last words out, and then Benjamin drops the mic, raises his arms to his sides, steps to the edge of the stage, and, with one powerful leap, his body is suddenly airborne.

Not fully realizing what is happening, I watch in horror, as his body literally flies above the thin strip between the stage and the fence, separating the pit from the stage, and over my head, and then lands amid the sea of arms, raised to catch him in the air, a mere five feet away from me, and disappears for a second amongst them.

My heart stops for a second, as I count the breaths before he reappears, his body carried by the fans, who caught him, but then everyone starts screaming again, and hands start reaching out for him, trying to touch him, any part of him. His body gets passed through the sea of hands, extended in the air, and even more hands join in, some of them tearing at his clothes and grabbing for his arms. He lifts his forearms to his face to protect it from the crowd. The wave of bodies sways towards us, the weight of the crowd threatening to crush us all against the fence. Even Cam-The-Bodyguard is struggling to keep his stance. More bodyguards appear on the other side of the fence, but they do nothing, but quietly observe the situation. I guess they are waiting for a sign from Benjamin to intervene, but none follows.

Suddenly, the air is knocked out of my lungs, as two girls crash on top of me. I whimper, opening my mouth, trying to take in a precious gulp of air, to no avail. I look around, panic grabbing at my throat, cutting off my airflow even further. I see Cam-The-Bodyguard standing three feet away, rubbing his ribs.

Terror washes over me, and I turn around to see Lisa, who's squeezed between the fence, and a group of girls, who are trying to cross over to the other side under the cover of the melee, happening mere feet away from us. The bodyguards, standing on the other side of the fence, closer to the stage, just stand there, not doing anything.

Not yet.

One girl manages to drape her legs over to the other side, though, and the nearest bodyguard immediately grabs her by the waist, sets her to her feet on the other side, and escorts her out of sight.

A scream from behind my back prompts me to turn around, and what I see nearly knocks me off my feet. The sea of hands reaching, grabbing, trying to reach Benjamin has become even denser, the girls trying to reach for his face. One of them grabs his vest top and it finally gives, tearing in the middle.

The sea of bodies sways my way and I know this time there's nothing stopping them. They will just crush me against the fence. There is nothing else that I can feel right now, apart from the all-absorbing panic, which is making my body numb. I can't move. I can't breathe...

But, damn it, I will not die like Mufasa tonight!

Just as the thought crosses my mind, strong hands squeeze me by the waist, and, before I can realize what's going on, Cam-The-Bodyguard lifts me up by the waist and hurls me over the fence, where another bodyguard awaits my graceless landing. He grabs me by the hips, as Cam releases me, and then I am gently set on my feet, right next to Lisa, who looks like she's just been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Well, I guess that's pretty much what happened.

"Oh, my God! This is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me! But also the scariest! Oh, my God, Tony is going to fucking kill me!"

I roll my eyes.

"That's what you're thinking about right now? Not "Oh, my God, I am alive!", or, "What the actual fuck?" or "Is he gonna make it?", I wave my hand back to the pit, so that she knows who I mean, "but "Tony's gonna kill me?"

"Come on, ladies, you need to move, now," the bodyguard, who helped Cam take us over the fence yells at my back. I look around, my eyes searching for the pink-haired girl, but she's nowhere to be seen. I notice a flash of pink in the middle of the mob, but the bodyguard presses his large hand on my back and pushes me and Lisa forward before I can say another word.

We walk, no, run past the fence and then we turn left past the stage. We walk into a hidden tunnel at the side of the stage, and I blink a couple of times, to adjust my vision to the darkness.

The bodyguard keeps pushing us to walk, and we pass by a group of technicians, then walk through another door and I immediately recognize where we are now. We are backstage.

We walk the same corridor we did earlier this evening, and, finally, the bodyguard stops in front of the dressing room door. He knocks a couple of times, and the door swings open.

Jeanine is standing in the doorway, her brow immediately puckering with confusion, when she sees us standing in the corridor.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She frowns, her eyes jumping from Lisa to me and back again.

"I'm sorry, Miss Thompson, I didn't know what to do with them, but we had to get them out," the bodyguard says apologetically.

Jeanine rolls her eyes, but I see a flash of worry pass through them.

"How bad is it?" She huffs, opening the door wider and letting us in.

"It is pretty wild out there, I'll tell you that," the man says, shaking his head.

"You can wait here," Jeanine tells me and Lisa over her shoulder. She's still holding the door open, but the bodyguard isn't getting in. He looks pretty shaken up, and I don't know whether it is because of the crowd going crazy out there, or because of talking to Jeanine.

"Go make sure they're fine," Jeanine tells the bodyguard, and, with that, she closes the door in his face.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God," Lisa's chants next to me make me look at her, and I am immediately sure that she looks as I feel. All colour is drained from her face, her hands are shaking, and her eyes are wide with fear. I suddenly feel cold. My teeth start to chatter, and I wrap my arms around my waist.

Jeanine turns around, then looks at us and shakes her head. She walks to the table by one of the sofas and pours two generous glasses of Lagavulin, then walks over to me and Lisa and hands us the drinks.

"Here," she says, and for the first time tonight, her eyes meet mine. Lisa whimpers by my side, and concern flashes briefly in Jeanine's eyes before it is replaced by her usual bored look. "This should help with the shaking," she walks over to the sofa and plops herself onto the cushion. "It's the adrenaline, leaving your bodies. It will pass soon."

"Thanks," I say, as I take a sip of my drink. I shudder at the unpleasant taste of medicine, burning on my tongue, but soft warmth replaces the cold, running through my veins almost immediately and I am truly grateful for the relief.

"Why aren't you out there, watching the show?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Jeanine simply shrugs her shoulders.

"I've watched them literally hundreds of times. It gets boring with time, believe me. Plus, I had some work to do, so, I decided to use the hour and a half I have completely alone."

I nod, taking another sip from my glass. I have to admit it doesn't taste as bad this time.

Loud voices echo in the corridor outside, followed by footsteps, before the door to the dressing room swings open, prompting me to whip my head around in its direction.

Jack walks in, and then the band pour into the room one after the other. I tilt my head to the side, my eyes searching for a particular band member, who walks in last, followed by another bodyguard, and his appearance makes me gasp.

Rags from his vest top are hanging loosely on his torso, revealing his toned chest and chiseled abs that are streaked by red scratchmarks, his hair is tousled and he's missing his beanie. His breaths are coming out shallow and ragged, but a smile is stretching his lips and he looks...happy? Elated? Ecstatic?

"Great show, boys!" He calls to the rest of the band and then walks straight to the table to pour himself a drink. He takes a swig of whiskey directly from the bottle, before filling a glass with Lagavulin and joining me and Lisa.

"Oh, my God, this is the greatest night of my life!" Lisa screams, as he comes to stand next to us, and then she wraps her arms around his neck. He looks startled for a bit, but then gently squeezes her against his chest, a warm smile curling his lips, before he gently pushes her away.

My eyes rake worriedly over his exposed torso, assessing the damage the pit has caused. Some of the scratchmarks on his abdomen are raised and angry-looking, and I definitely think he'd greatly benefit from some antiseptic cream. My eyes catch the end of a tattoo, that's twirling around his torso just above his hips. I try to trail it, but clearly most of the tattoo is on his back. My gaze travels up his abs, which look like they've been carved from stone in fucking heaven, and up to his chest, his broad shoulders and tattooed arms, his defined jawline and full lips, which are now stretched in a smirk...and then his eyes...

My eyes instantly lock with his and I momentarily feel embarrassed.

"Did you enjoy the show, Miss Vough?" He says, his smirk tightening at the double-take of his words.

Why, God? Why?