Perhaps the girls were right. Perhaps having a night out in the club and getting absolutely wasted was what you needed to take your mind off your mistake; your joke of an ex boyfriend and the fact he’d found someone new. Honestly, you’d lost count of the amount of drinks you’d had and the night had barely started. The bass was only just kicking in and the music was so loud that it made the floor vibrate. Surrounded by people, you wondered how many girls were out doing the same as you and blocking out mankind from their brain, drinking their pain away. It was the kind of night where you danced with everyone you met, toasting to the future and doing shots until you felt your stomach burn. For the first time in a long time, you laughed and smiled, genuinely meaning it, feeling it in your heart. Your dancing turned sloppy as the minutes passed, your mind in a calm daze until your eyes locked on to his.
Through the sea of people, the deepest dark chocolate eyes found you; you’d never forget his daze. His dark hair, milky skin and cheeky grin made your body buzz more than the vodka in your system and before you knew it, he spun you around and in to his arms. You opened your mouth to speak, stunned by him, only for him to gently place his finger over your lips with an iconic smirk. He moved behind you and held your hips as you swayed them to the optimistic, upbeat trance music and for some reason, you didn’t seem to care. The stranger was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, making your ex look like a slobbering dog and already, this man was treating you like you were the hottest girl in the world, looking at you like you were pure gold. It was like he knew what you needed; someone to make you feel great, to give you confidence so when he wrapped his arms around your waist, his forehead brushing yours as you got close, you were reminded how thrilling it was to be single, to be free. You could barely breathe, his touch making your mouth as dry. He smelled amazing and he danced like a pop star; you were dying to know his name. All of a sudden, you felt sober under his touch, incredibly aware of his lips brushing yours and his fingers tracing the curve of your spine.
If you ever think your fandom is the best fandom just remember that Japanese shawols are sending Canadian shawols lightsticks because they won’t get to have any for the concert. That’s real love bitch.