#kamelot

Eddie and the Corroded Coffin boys play some big festival in the early 2000s, not as headliners (I honestly can't see CC as that big, sorry), but still like on one of the late afternoon / early night slots. A plan they're pretty big fans of, it means they have a substantial crowd of fans and casual festival-goers listening to them, but they can get pretty buzzed and relaxed to enjoy the bigger names playing later afterwards. And they're all still in their mid-thirties so yk their lower backs hurt, sure, but they can still be menaces in the pit if they're motivated enough.

They do just that for a while, then around dinner time, someone's girlfriend (I'd like to think Jeff's bc I can totally see him not caring about genres at all) begs to go see this band she likes at one of the smaller stages. She's telling them that they just changed vocalist and this guy had to prove himself to the band by skydiving with them and that's so cool and she really wants to see them live please please please.

Eddie is not convinced, the name of the band doesn't sound familiar, but it's clearly fantasy inspired, and that leaves him with this nagging feeling that they'll end up to some obnoxiously cheesy act. He tries to divert the attention from himself and actually go eat something.

Manager and bff extraordinaire Chrissy Cunningham won't have it though, always careful with partners, family and significant others because she knows how the industry can turns artists into assholes. So she shoves all the boys towards the smaller stage, smiling wide and supportive of the girl who wanted to go there.

And wouldn't you look at that: the act IS, in fact, obnoxious and cheesy. The band has back up vocals that look more like a fucking choir. They have a keyboard that could probably replicate an entire orchestra, which means these guys are symphonic. Eddie shudders at the thought alone.

By no means the band has a big production, but they still have drape-like thingies stage-sides and candles and shit. A quick glance to the crowd has Eddie taking in so many men in leather pants and flowy-fucking-harmony-book-illustration-cover-vaguely-medieval shirts that will hunt him for a lifetime of nightmares.

Eddie groans as the band enters the stage and start playing right away. And yeah, there's no denying it anymore, it's clearly a power metal act- yep there it comes, the chirpy melodic riff and oh, oh yeah, melancholic keys and heartbreaking choir intro just joined the party. Eddie is actively glaring at Chrissy, but she just smiles and pats his back, shrugging apologetic.

And then.

AND THEN.

And then Eddie's future husband appears up there, in a puff of poorly distributed fake smoke, a too tight short sleeved black shirt, fairly normal black jeans with just a few straps on his juicy thighs, short and messy light brown hair and the sweetest boy-next-door smile.

This dorky motherfucker even dares to do a little bow to the audience.

This piece of cake with no tattoos whatsoever in sight and the attire of a very mild occasional I sometimes go to raves while vacationing in Ibiza because I have a very stable and probably boring white collar job and I need to decompress.

This absolute luscious chest forest bearer of a man struts to the barricade and starts singing with a tone so warm that it soothes half of Eddie's lifelong trauma and a lung capacity that could send at least two big tobacco companies bankrupt.

And for a minute there (or five, or ten, or whatever) Eddie kinda forgets why it was ever cringe to sing of doomed love, eternal devotion and, fucking, roses and flowers and passionate nights full of stars and promises and-

"Backstage pass" he starts shaking Chrissy's arm not taking his eyes off the charming vocalist.

Chrissy doesn't hear him right away, so she just cocks an eyebrow in a silent question, but Eddie keeps on staring at the stage like a man possessed and shouts louder "Get. Me. A. Backstage. Pass" and point a finger at Steve singing his heart out.

Chrissy snickers, not particularly surprised, and stands on her tip-toes to take Eddie's face in her hands, turning him to face her.

"Babes, you are an artist that performed at this festival", she lowers a hand to grab and wave in front of his eyes the artist pass attached at Eddie's neck.

It takes a few beats for him to gather enough brain power to understand, but as soon a as he does, he's dodging people left and right with a streak of mumbled "sorry man"s alternated with some more urgent "kindly fuck off"s to reach the front and find the nearest staff entry to flaunt his newly rediscovered access guarantee.

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After the encore, an absolutely delicious sweat drenched Steve exists stage left and bumps directly in a very much stunned Eddie Munson with hearts in his eyes.

Steve mumbles a distracted "sorry" and starts walking around him to follow his bandmates to the green room when Eddie reaches for his wrist and nearly shouts "WAIT".

Steve turns around again, looks at his own wrist wrapped in pretty ringed long fingers, then focuses on the owner of said fingers. "Uh, yeah?"

Eddie's watching him like he's the Eighth World's Wonder and promptly answers with "Hi, my name is marry me, will you Eddie Munson?".

In the time it takes Steve to blink a few times and lightly blush before bursting out a genuine laugh, he realises two thing: one, the man in front of him (and still holding his wrist) is Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin and he his quite frankly hot; two, Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin spent a good five minutes of his own band's set earlier that night to climb on a tall amp and proceed with a ridiculous tirade against "all the melodic sappy panty twisting crap that's tainting true metal".

So Steve slowly cocks his head, still smiling big, gently pats his free hand on Eddie's cheek and smugly tells him "nah, wouldn't want to taint your", he tries to lower his voice to make it sound tougher, while vaguely gesturing towards him "true metal, hot stuff". He also winks at him, for good measure.

Eddie once again takes a moment to recover and totally bypasses Steve's dig blurting out a "you watched our set???", ears reddening at the tips, face shocked and mouth open.

Steve finally manages to free his hostage wrist and gives Eddie an incredulous, hopeless once over, starts laughing again and walks backstage, shaking his head.

When he notices Eddie's not following him (still stunned, not offended, to be clear) e looks over his shoulders "are you coming or not?".

Eddie unfreezes then and sprints to join him.

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Eddie will proceed to follow Steve around for the remainder of the festival, walking on his knees and begging pretty please for a chance to explain the he actually meant other melodic sappy panty twisting crap, not Steve's.

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