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2hollis has brought out y/n y/l/n after his perform of gold with her song as the intro at his Governors Ball set where they performed a song together. This is an unreleased song and shocker to everyone.
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@2hollifan OMGOMG
@y/nsworld i shoulve been there </3
@fanaccount i ship this soo bad
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Y/n Y/l/n performed a surprise song at gov ball the day before ex boyfriend Dominic Fike is set to headline. Is she there for him? Will they rekindle? Is this it couple back?
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@hollisfan after hollis brought her out this is insane
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Y/n is a 20 year old singer, self producer, model, and influencer. Shes a Los Angeles native. She went viral for her 2016 aesthetic and blew up after her hit single Gold followed by her debut album. City of Angels Shes linked to be close friends with Charli xcx, tate mcrae, and hailey bieber.
An: updating shit you thought would never be updated before. I am referencing the Montreality interview throughout this entire chapter and will be for the whole series ILYYY <3
Purple - reader
Blue- dada holli
JAN 2025-
Hollis finally makes his way back inside after greeting fans. The second he spots you waiting by the backstage exit a grin spreads across his face.
“You waiting for me?”
“Unfortunately,” you reply dryly.
He clutches his chest dramatically. “Damn.”
“Let's go. We have work to do.”
You lead him through the back of the venue toward a black staircase tucked away from the crowd. The lighting is low, just bright enough for the camera setup. As he follows behind you, he looks around.
“Yo, this is scary as fuck. If you weren't so pretty, I'd think you were trying to kill me.”
You glance over your shoulder. “You don't think a pretty girl could kill you?”
He laughs. “If you did, I'd die happy.”
You shove his shoulder lightly. “Sit down before I change my mind.”
Before he drops into place, he looks at you. “Wait, Y/N, before we start, can I spark up?”
“Yeah, go ahead, I don’t mind,” you respond. “I didn’t know you smoked though.”
“Not often,” he says, pulling out a joint from behind his ear. “It’s just something to celebrate after the shows.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a show every day?”
"Yeah…… " he laughs as he puts the joint to his lips, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You wanna join me?”
“Noo hun I don’t smoke,” you reply firmly. “The idea of brain fog kinda freaks me out.”
He pauses, looking at you intently to see if you're actually serious. Then, he lets out a soft chuckle. “First time in a long time I’ve seen anyone decline free weed. I like that. You know what? I’ll follow you. Keep my head on straight.”
He drops into place on the stairs while you set up the camera. After checking the audio levels, you hit record.
“Alright,” you say. “Let's start easy. What was your life like when you were ten?”
Hollis leans back and thinks for a second. “Umm... when I was ten, I had just moved to Los Angeles. I was obsessed with Pokémon. Minecraft. Stuff like that.” He laughs. “I wanted to be a goalkeeper, though, like that was my dream.”
“Aww, that’s so cute. You really wanted to be a goalkeeper?”
“Yeah. I was obsessed with sports. Football, basketball, soccer, baseball. I skated, too.”
“So you liked being outside?”
“Still do.” He points toward the camera. “Everybody should go outside. Touch grass. Get some sunlight. Appreciate being alive.”
Before you can ask the next question, a voice from somewhere in the venue shouts: “You're attractive as fuck, no homo!”
Hollis's face turns red, and he erupts into laughter. He doubles over and shouts back, “It's okay to be homo!”
The crowd somewhere behind the camera cheers. You shake your head and start to quote the Ian bar “Does it matter if 2Hollis likes guys?”
“That shit was completely unprompted,” Hollis chuckles. “I still don't know why he said that till this day.”
“You seem to really enjoy the friendships that the industry has brought you.”
His expression softens immediately. “Probably the best part of all this.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Obviously, fans are amazing. Touring is amazing. But music gave me brothers for life.” He pauses. “People I'll care about forever. Even after I die, type shit.”
His eyes briefly drift toward the venue floor.
“I think it's important to realize your friends are the foundation for everything. None of this works without them.” He nods. “My number one piece of advice? Never switch up on your day ones.”
You smile. “Oh, okay. So you're a friendly guy.”
His eyes narrow playfully. “You like friendly guys?”
“Hate them, actually.”
“Fuck.”
You laugh. “Unlucky.”
“Listen,” he says. “I genuinely think life gets better when you're friendly.”
You gesture for him to continue.
“When I was a kid, I had a horse named Sammy.”
“A horse?”
“Yes, Y/N. A horse.”
You immediately start laughing.
“Trust me, it gets better,” he says, leaning forward excitedly. “It was crazy my neighbor had a horse, too. We'd dress them up in chainmail armor and race them through the mountains.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear to God.”
“You raced armored horses?”
“Yeah. We would gallop all the way up the mountains- -”
“Bye.”
“--pitch black. No saddle. Shirtless.”
You cover your face. “That explains your little obsession with horses.”
“ I'm telling you, that was some of the most fun I've had in my life.” A smile tugs at his lips, and he looks at the camera. “Shout out Sammy. Shout out my neighbor.”
You shake your head. “That sounds insane.”
“It was.” He points at you. “But it only happened because we were friends.”
“Oh?”
“Fun always starts when you're friendly.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You call this being friendly?”
“Being what?”
You gesture between the two of you. “This.”
His smile grows. “Nah.”
“Exactly.”
“You should only be this friendly with me.”
You roll your eyes dramatically. “Moving on.”
He laughs.
“Hollis,” you continue, “do you believe in manifestation?”
“Absolutely.” The answer comes instantly. “One hundred percent.”
“Why?”
“If you love the universe and you love God like, not even God in a religious thing, just God as in everything, if you trust it and you say 'I love you' to it, it'll love you back. It'll give you what you want. I promise you.” He shrugs. “If you approach life with gratitude and trust, things start opening up.”
“You really believe that?”
“Yeah.” He glances at you. “I think belief changes everything.”
“Do you think manifestation changed your life?”
“Definitely.” He nods. “But it starts with believing in yourself.” He looks around the venue. “A lot of this used to feel impossible.”
“The tour?”
“All of it.” His voice grows quieter. “The music. The crowds. Being here.” His eyes find yours. “genuinely even down to being able to enjoy this moment with you. It’s all because I believed, and I love all the shit I do.”
For a second, you forget your next question. You clear your throat. “The way you think is really different from most people our age.”
He smiles. “Thanks.”
“What gives you such a positive outlook?”
“The only thing I want in life is to be happy.” The answer comes without hesitation. “That's it.”
“I like that. It’s easier to be content when your only goal is happiness.”
He taps your shoulder and shouts, “Exactly!”
You laugh.
“Seriously, though. None of this matters if you're miserable.” He gestures around the venue. “You could have money, houses, cars, fame, hoes, whatever.” He shrugs. “If you're not happy, what's the point?”
You nod slowly. “Are you happy right now?”
“Hell yeah.” The answer makes you smile. “I'm on tour. I'm meeting fans.” He glances at you. “I'm talking to a pretty girl.”
You roll your eyes again. “right....”
His laughter echoes through the staircase.
“So,” you continue, refusing to look at him, “do you have any tattoos?”
“Trying to avoid what I said?”
“Nope. Trying to do my job.”
“Funny.” He leans back. “But no. I don't think I'll ever get one.”
“Why?”
“I like being a blank canvas.”
You tilt your head. “Oh, he’s soo different.”
He chuckles. “Nah, for real though. I express myself in so many other ways, I feel like a tattoo is too permanent. I change my mind too often.”
“Inconsistency. That’s a red flag.”
“Inconsistent? No. Red flag? Maybe.”
“What's your biggest red flag?”
His eyes narrow. “Y/N.”
“What?”
“You gotta figure that one out yourself.”
You laugh. “Oh, what? You don't believe in love or something?”
His expression changes. Not dramatically, but just enough.
“No,” he says immediately. “I definitely believe in love.”
You lean forward slightly. “How would you describe it?”
For the first time in the interview, he takes a second to think. When he finally speaks, the joking tone disappears completely.
“Love is when you would do anything for someone, no matter what. You would die for them. You would do anything for them. You give them anything.”
The venue suddenly feels quieter, as if the crowd below has completely withered away.
“All that's on your mind is that person,” his eyes stay fixed somewhere ahead. “If they died, it would break you. You know, that's love. If you can't have that person and it fucks you up, that's when you're in love.”
You swallow hard. He lets out a slow breath, and a heavy silence settles between you. The words flow out of him so effortlessly, completely from the heart. It's beautiful, and you find yourself utterly enamored by him, not because of his looks or his fame, but because of how genuinely he speaks.
He finally looks back at you, a small smile returning to his face. “You know, love is a very complex thing, though. You can't really just define it in one word.”
You stare at him for a moment, then shake your head. “Wow.”
“What?” he asks, rubbing his arm as if he’s suddenly nervous.
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b.g.: y/n and gunner broke up eight months ago from a year and a half long relationship. the both of them have moved on and are dating other people, but y/n soon realizes that moving on and simply letting go are not the same thing.
← →
based on the song 'thinking of you' by katy perry!
my masterlist - my taglist
the city is eerily quiet at around one-thirty in the morning. most of the streets are empty as i speed my car down them.
the radio is softly playing in the background, but i barely hear it.
all i can think about are the lyrics sitting in my notes app.
'thinking of you'.
it almost makes me laugh, thinking about my current situation.
the title alone should probably be enough to make me turn the car around and go back home to my boyfriend.
instead, i drive even faster.
the studio building comes into view twenty minutes later.
the parking lot is almost completely empty, except for a few cars that belong to the producers and engineers who practically live here.
i step inside and for the first time all night, i don't feel bored. i suddenly feel awake.
"y/n?"
i glance up to find my producer staring at me from behind a desk. his eyebrows shoot up.
"it's almost two in the morning," he says, surprised to see me here.
i nod. "i know."
"why are you here?"
i clear my throat.
"i just have an idea. if i don't record it now i don't know when i will."
he nods, his eyebrows still slightly furrowed.
"okay, go ahead," my producer nods with confusion laced in his voice.
i head toward the booth before i can second guess my actions.
the lyrics are already written; and for once that's the easy part.
i pull out my phone and open the note, staring at the words that i've been too scared of to actually confront.
my producer follows me into the recording room.
"you got a melody?" he asks.
i shrug.
"kind of."
"kind of?" he repeats.
"i'll figure it out," i say dismissively.
he laughs.
"that's reassuring."
and normally i'd laugh back, but tonight i don't.
because for the first time in a while, a blossoming song is playing in my head. i just need to get it out.
i step up to the microphone and adjust the headphones over my ears.
i don't have any instrumentals nor a beat. so all i hear is silence.
my producer gives me a look through the glass.
"you want me to build something first?" he offers.
i shake my head.
"no."
he raises his eyebrow at that.
"you sure?" he clarifies.
"yeah," i tell him.
the room falls silent after that.
i don't even think i need the lyrics written out in front of me - they're practically engraved into my brain at this point - but i have the note open on my phone.
i then start singing.
when i fade out the last note, neither of us say anything.
my producer just stares at me through the glass. i can tell he is a bit confused and shocked at the lyrics i sang, but despite whatever concerns or questions he may have, he stays quiet. for now.
i stare back at him.
"well?" i ask.
he blinks a few times.
"where the hell has that been?"
i laugh nervously.
"hiding from me, apparently," i joke.
he shakes his head before turning toward the computer.
usually creating a song takes hours. sometimes days. sometimes weeks. but tonight, it feels effortless.
my producer builds around the vocal instead of the other way around.
he adds a soft piano first. then strings. then a drum pattern that's barely there.
and piece by piece, the song starts taking shape.
every sound feels like it's been waiting for the vocals instead of competing with them. nothing feels forced or rushed.
i'm finally not staring at a blank page hoping inspiration shows up. because it's already here.
we play back the song in pieces, making sure each snippet becomes better than the first version.
i redo some vocals and add on harmonies and adlibs and such.
and before i know it, it's almost four in the morning.
my producer's coffee that's sitting next to the mixing desk has gone cold. the city outside is still dark, and has gotten quieter, in fact. but somehow, despite spending months unable to finish a single cohesive thought for a song, i now have one sitting in front of me. finished.
my producer leans back in his chair.
"i think that's it."
i stare at the screen. at the title sitting in the corner.
'thinking of you'.
suddenly, the excitement i'd been running on starts to fade. now that the song is completely finished, i have to listen to the final playback.
the room is silent as my producer clicks 'play'.
the opening instruments fill the speakers. then my voice.
it's soft at first. then the lyrics start.
by the second verse, i can't even look at my producer anymore. because hearing the actual finished version out loud makes one thing painfully obvious: the song isn't subtle at all. every line practically screams his name.
well, not literally. but close enough.
when the song ends, i let out a breath i didn't realize i'd been holding in.
there's a silence that's almost awkward between us.
"so," my producer starts.
i already know what's coming.
"don't-"
"it's about gunner, right?" he interjects before i can even finish speaking.
i groan.
"seriously?" i ask, covering my face with my hands.
he gives me a look.
"y/n."
"it's not..." i trail off, my voice completely unconvincing.
i don't even believe it myself.
my producer laughs quietly.
"that's what i thought."
i rub a hand over my face.
"it's not like i released it," i try to plead my case.
"yet. you just spent two hours perfecting it," he points out.
"that doesn't mean anything," i dismiss.
he laughs a bit.
"but it means something."
i glance back toward the speakers. toward the title. toward the song that somehow managed to do what months of attempted studio sessions couldn't; make me feel something.
for a moment, neither of us say anything. the track continues sitting on the screen, waiting.
my producer studies me for a second.
"you're gonna release it, aren't you?" he questions, knowing me too well.
i let out a quiet laugh.
because the answer is obvious.
"eventually."
"even with jack?"
that question makes me pause.
not because i don't know the answer. but because i do.
my eyes drift back to the title.
'thinking of you'.
"i don't know," i admit.
and that's the truth.
i should probably feel worse than i do. actually, i should definitely feel worse than i do.
i have a boyfriend sleeping in my bed right now. a boyfriend who would absolutely hate this song if he heard it.
but at the same time, i didn't write it to hurt him; i wrote it because it's honest.
because it's the first thing i've cared enough about in a long time for me to stay up this late for.
because no matter how hard i try to ignore it, the feelings for him are there whether i write about them or not.
my producer sighs.
"that's gonna cause problems," he says, clearly thinking logically compared to my senseless thoughts.
i laugh.
"most good songs do."
he points toward me.
"see? that's the exact attitude that's gonna cause problems."
i breathe out through my mouth, still a stupid, foolish smile on my lips.
"probably."
but instead of feeling guilty, i mostly feel relieved for many things; that this song finally exists, that the thoughts that have been bouncing in my head have finally been expressed, that i actually have drive to make music again.
i stand up from my chair and grab my phone from the desk.
"send me the final version when it's exported," i tell him.
my producer raises an eyebrow.
"already leaving?" he asks.
"it's four in the morning," i say.
"fair."
i'm halfway to the door when he speaks again.
"you are gonna release it, aren't you?"
i stop.
for some reason, the question makes me glance back at the computer screen. at the title. at the audio waves stretching across the monitor.
"probably," i finally admit.
"eventually?" he asks, seemingly knowing the real answer.
i don't answer right away. instead, i pull out my phone. i open instagram. i open my music distributer app.
my producer's eyes narrow.
"y/n," he says, his tone warning.
i ignore him.
"y/n," he repeats.
"what?" i ask, my voice almost annoyed.
"don't do anything stupid."
i laugh. because i'm about to do something that's really stupid.
"did you send me the file?" i ask, disregarding his previous words.
he sighs, turning his attention to the computer for a brief moment.
"i can, y/n, but please don't do anything you'll regret," he tries to reason with me.
i nod.
the exported file lands in my inbox barely a few seconds later.
i open it.
then i open the app i use to publish songs.
my thumb hovers over the upload button.
it's 4:07 am. a random thursday.
no warning, no promotion, no countdown, no teasing lyrics. absolutely nothing.
which makes this all the more surprising.
but the more i stare at the screen, the more i like the idea.
music isn't supposed to sit in folders forever, right?
and this song definitely wasn't written to stay hidden. it was written because i couldn't keep it inside anymore.
so why wait?
i can tell my producer sensed my small hesitation turn into motivation after receiving the file via email.
"you're not serious right now, y/n," he says.
as he says this, i'm uploading the file onto the app i use to release my music.
"i'm completely serious," i respond, tapping away.
"your label is gonna kill you."
i laugh it off, scrolling through my camera roll for the cover art.
"they'll survive."
"your manager is definitely gonna kill you," he says.
i type in the title of the song.
"yeah, well she'll survive too."
then my finger hovers over the release button.
for half a second, doubt creeps in.
jack.
gunner.
mazzy.
the headlines and articles that'll inevitably come from this. the questions. the assumptions. the problems. i think about all of it.
and then i press release anyway.
yourusername
liked by rap, xaviersobased, tmz and 784k others.
yourusername thinking of you on all plats
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user GIRL IT IS 4 IN THE MORNING
user NEW MUSIC????
user who hurt her?? ⤷ user i don't think we were supposed to hear this ...
user y'all don't say gunner ⤷ user its him fs ⤷ user be serious rn who else would it be 😭 ⤷ user i wasn't gonna speculate but...
user somebody lock twitter before they start
user they broke up 8 months ago btw
user HOLD ONNN THE TIMING IS INSANE ⤷ user u people connect everything ⤷ user no bc why did she drop this TONIGHT
user y'all she literally has a boyfriend ⤷ user girl... this is NOT about jack 😭 ♡ liked by author
user mother has returned
user song of the year idc
user imagine being jack rn ⤷ user i just know he is sick to his stomach ⤷ user someone check on that man
user i don't care who it's about THIS SONG IS AMAZING
user i'm not saying she's wrong but i'd be devastatedddd
user it's been a long 8 months but it was worth the wait
a/n : messy ass .... she needs to chill ... but i can't blame her like highkey anything for nett 🤤 LMFAO anywayyyyy lmk what u guys think of this!!! feel free to send me comments, questions, suggestions, or anything thru my inbox!! my reqs are closed but i'll still take them for whenever i feel like working on anything new!!! likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated <22 love u guysssss
lmk if you want to be tagged in any future nettspend fics!
warnings/tags: kinda toxic, mentions of teen pregnancy, cuss words, exes to lovers, brothers best friend (?), they kinda hate each other (KINDA!), y/n’s lowkey bipolar, avoidant behavior
timeline (ish): post recital
in which teen parents turned co-parents, y/n and hollis, juggle a four-year-old, passive-aggressive texts, and the fact that this was not in the five-year plan.
a/n - hii so this one is shorter than the usual, but super cutie and a bit angsty! been rly busy cuz my exams r next week, but once im on break longer fics will come again <3 im soo happy summer is starting and hey blondie is one of my fav dom songs for summer (if u know ball) and best on the barbie soundtrack easy. anyways hope u enjoyy! dm/comment to b on taglist! 💋💋
“yeah, the green cargos match better.” you say to your boyfriend dominic as you take a drag of your cigarette, watching him do a mini fashion show for you in your hotel room, clothes strewn about on the bed and around the floors. people who watch your videos love your style, so he figured you could help him elevate his stage outfits, but you tease him that it’s cause he likes when you watch him change. which is partially true.
dominic nods at your opinion, pulling off his black jeans and paces around the room in only his calvin klein boxers, looking for the cargos you liked. instead of helping him, you are sat on the bed, cigarette in hand, checking out your man.
after a good twenty seconds, he looks at you with a teasing frown, and his curls all tousled from constantly changing shirts. “baby, stop checkin’ me out and help me look.” he says, catching you in the act of eye fucking him as you quickly exhale smoke and hop of the bed.
“my baaad.” you grin, sliding off the bed and placing your cigarette between dominic’s lips, and moving around some shirts. “found em’.” you say, holding up the pants. “how did you find them so fast? you’re like my ma, she always finds shit at like, lightning speed.” he responds in awe.
“nah, you just can’t see for shit, dom.”
dominic jokingly whines. “this relationship is emotionally abusive.”
you fake pout. “oh noooo is he gonna write an album about this?”
“hey,” he grins, rolling his eyes, because you have been nagging him to get his album done faster. “production takes a long ass time, and like, i’ve been busy ‘n stuff.”
rolling your eyes, you take a drag from the cigarette and sit back on the bed. “busy or lazy?” you say as you tug his arm, pulling him to sit on the bed with you.
“busy.” dominic replies confidently, lifting you gently onto his lap. “busy with ‘m baby. wanna be with you, every day. no time left for album.”
you laugh as he starts trailing wet fluttery kisses down your neck, his pretty curls all up in your face. “okaaay, fine no album.” you manage to sputter out right before he kisses your lips and lays you flat on the bed, and crawls on top of you.
your eyes close at the feeling of his lips, and now his teeth grazing along your neck, his long fingers quickly pushing down your sweatpants. “baby, the car is coming to drive you to soundcheck like, hella soon.” you say, your brain a mess and you mind going numb just looking at your boyfriend.
at that, he gets off of you, and you think he is going to stop, but you are dead wrong on that. “you’ve finished in like, two minutes before. we’ll manage.” dominic huffs out, his tan face sporting a sweaty blush already, and his hair askew from all your ministrations. looking down, his hands are tugging his boxers down as fast as humanly possible.
“fuck off, it was not two minutes. i am not that easy.” you groan, flopping onto the bed as dominic crawls back up onto you.
THREE HOURS LATER.
as dominic is getting his mic pack set up, you are sitting in the green room, editing a new video for your channel on your computer. you had recently hit four million followers, and nearly a million views on your paris fashion week vlog. this had become your pastime as you wait for dominic to go onstage, or when you are on flights, or anything of that sort.
after finally finishing the video, you check your instagram immediately after. there had been some rumors, some stories lingering in the air about you and dominic, but he said he didn’t feel like going public for a while, because he wanted to keep things private, and handle what the media saw.
to you, it was valid. you had no prior experience of dating a pretty big name, so you really didn’t mind either way. part of you thought it was fun reading the speculations, watching the few edits, and seeing which fan page got the timeline right. above all, it was calm. no expectations.
but there was a tiny part inside of you that wanted to embrace him in all aspects of your life. your videos, other media, and just going out without sunglasses and a fuckass baseball cap. it wasn’t about wanting to flaunt or parade your relationship, but to just confirm it. but you never told dominic this. you love and respect him, so you would wait until he is ready. or unless the paparazzi catches you kissing.
before you can dwell on it any longer, dominic bursts into the green room. his curls are slightly damp and have begun sticking to his forehead from the humidity, and he is tugging his hoodie off.
“the guitar amp got absolutely fucked from trasport, but we fixed it”, he says. his eyes drift over to you next to him on the couch, your laptop light flickering and your face blank. his rockstar ego dissipates, replaced by the guy who tumbled around the hotel room with you a few hours ago. “you finish editing baby?”
“just now, yeah.” you say, closing your laptop and setting it down on the coffee table. his lanky, muscly arm pulls you against his side, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck, as you sigh, and grin. your fingers fix his curls, getting them nice and pretty before his show.
“you smell so good. your smell. best smell ever, on my mama.” he says, muffled into your neck. your eyes drift downward to your phone that buzzes. a #domxy/n speculation on your insta feed, trying to piece the puzzle together.
you stare at it, and a sudden, heavy wave of exhaustion hits you. not quite the exhaustion from the long travel days or long editing stretches. it’s the weight of the covering up with hats and glasses, and the constant, calculated scan of a restaurant before you can sit down, or the creating distance the second you exit a building.
dominic notes your change in mood immediately. “whats wrong baby? you’re quiet. did the video delete or somethin’?”
“no, the video’s fine.” you sigh, tossing your phone down onto the couch cushions. “just thinking.”
“about?” dom urges, nudging your shoulder. you hesitate, looking at his face. his tan skin, cute button nose, and his eyes that bore into yours, looking like you hung the moon. you love him so much, it hurts. and because you love him, you kept your wants tucked away, not wanting to add to the pressure of his tour. but looking at him now, your exhaustion wins.
“i’m just tired, dom.” you admit carefully. “not like, sleep deprived. just tired of hiding you.” you finish, and he goes still.
“i respect why we’re doing it, like i don’t need a fucking red carpet debut and i don’t want to parade you around or any of that shit, but i’m tired of pulling my hand away from yours the second we’re in public. i just wanna walk down the street and kiss you if i want too. i don’t know.” you explain.
dominic listens, and his eyes never leave yours. he doesn’t interrupt, or get defensive. he just lets you speak. “y/n,” he murmurs once you finish. “i’m sorry. i’m so so sorry i made you feel hidden away, like i’m ashamed.”
you shake your head. “you didn’t make me feel like that,” you clarify. “i know why we did it.”
“yeah, but i kinda got too comfortable in the bubble.” he says, scratching his hair, and pulling you closer, his breath along your neck. “i was kinda… scared of the whole circus, you know? it feels kinda like, theres a million eyes on you. i wanted to protect this, but it does get suffocating.”
he kisses you gently, before he speaks again. “i love you. i think it’s about time we kiss in restaurants, n’ shit. give me a bit of time, let me talk to reed and make sure they don’t crash our apartments. i promise you.”
“yeah? you’d think about it?” you ask, your lips curving into an excited smile. “i’m already thinkin’ about it. thinkin’ how much better your vlogs are gonna be once i make an appearance.”
you nod enthusiastically and thank him by kissing his face all over. the moment is unfortunately cut short by reed knocking on the door. “ARE YOU GUYS DECENT??” he says through the door, and you and dominic give each other a teasing look. the two of you have nearly traumatized them enough.
dom gets up and opens the door. “yeah man?” he says, dapping up reed. “you’re on in five.” he says, handing dominic his black microphone. your boyfriend blows you a kiss as he follows reed to the stage.
“also, i- uh, have something important to ask, its about me and y/n.” dominic tries to tell his manager. reed nods, half listening. “yeah, yeah we will talk after. you gotta go on.”
FORTY MINUTES LATER.
now, you are standing in the dim lighting of the stage wings, listening to your boyfriend doing his thing and the crowd screaming along. you always loved concerts, and the bonus of dating one of your favourite artists is that you can attend every one. your eyes trail down his body and outfit, starting with his bare torso as his shirt had been discarded a while ago. he gets really fucking sweaty. he is also sporting the green cargos you had picked out earlier.
he bounces across the stage with the cutest smile, his chest dripping with sweat. the band finishes playing the outro to ‘Sick’, and everyone screams, anticipating the next song, as he grabs his guitar.
“hey guys, so uh,” dom speaks into the mic, still regaining his breath. “we’re gonna take a lil detour from the setlist for a sec. the guys back there don’t know we’re doin’ this so…”
there is an excited, confused murmur amongst the crowd before dominic looks over to you in the left wings, and smiles even wider, before looking at the crowd. “i was havin’ a conversation earlier, and it made me think of this song i don’t think i’ve played in a minute, but yeah.” dominic grins, before looking back at you. “this one isn’t on the setlist, but its for my girl.”
the fluttery instrumental of ‘Hey Blondie’ begins from his band, and all the (real) fans cheer as soon as they recognize it.
and so do you.
well, watch it, ‘cause you’re still workin’
do you ever get weak like monday morning, baby girl?
do you want it to end like sunday? sorry, darling
do you ever get tired like ropes and wires, baby girl?
there’s a million eyes on ya,
there’s a million eyes on ya.
FOUR HOURS LATER.
the concert had ended, and the night had faded into the super early hours of the morning, and you had been singing and dancing those very lyrics around the hotel room, dominic laughing and twirling you around.
dominic kisses you wetly on the mouth, and you both can’t help but bursting out laughing. i love yous and more soft touches were given as you and dominic stay sedentary in each other’s arms. “i- shit wait reed’s calling.” dominic says, interrupted.
“yo” reed says into the phone. “yo, uh if this is about the shoutout,” dominic starts. reed laughs on the other side. “yeah. woulda been great if we talked about it before, maybe done it next show, but what can ya do.”
dominic gulps. “sorry man, is this gonna be like, a problem though?” he questions and your eyes widen guiltily. “i mean, she’s got a cleaner rep than you, so ya’ll should be fine.”
dominic breathes a sigh of relief before hanging up. you pick up your phone for the first time in a few hours, and that shit is burning with notifications. you turn to dom and before you can speak he smiles into a teasing grin.
“should we make a vlog?”
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Y/n Y/l/n is the 19 year old daughter of Gabe Smith also known as the manager of rapper Nettspend. Y/n changed her last name so that she wouldnt have any “nepo ties”. Shes best friends with erica or “friutsnacks” and lola star. and has a small following on tictok and instagram for her looks, underground style, and fashion. Shes a party girl and known by some people from the underground scene.
