AT LEAST IT'S ALL ABOUT YOU // Dream X Reader

29

From your place in the scaffolding, the Seattle crowd looked like an ocean, the waves moving in time to the end the Dream Team's set. Next to you, Myra was swaying along as well, singing along to the song (Niche, a nice slow song that had rounded off their latest album) as she watched Nick play.

Your eyes were focused on Clay though, drinking in the way he crooned into the mic, letting the final notes of the song hang in the air for a moment before the crowd erupted into cheers. You clapped as well, scooting forward to climb down.

Myra's hand on your shoulder stopped you. "Where are you going?" She asked.

You turned to look at her quizzically. "It's the end of their set. We were all going to get pizza after, remember?"

Myra didn't let go of your shoulder though, guiding you back to where you had been sitting. 

"What's up with you?" You asked. "You're usually the first one down there so you can go kiss your boy-."

Myra rolled her eyes, shushing you excitedly. "Just trust me okay? You're going to want to see this."

You turned back to look down at the stage, surprised to see that the lights hadn't gone off yet. Niche was usually the last song in the set - Clay should have been wishing the crowd a good night right about now, but instead Nick was starting up a steady beat on his drums, a slow smile coming over his face. 

Your eyes darted to George as he started to play as well, laying down a bass line you didn't recognize, intensely focused. Near the front of the stage, Clay started to tap his foot in time, taking the mic out of the stand and pacing closer to the edge. 

"This song is a new one." Clay said to the crowd. "It's a special one, that I had some help with, and it's for a special someone out there. It's called Chartreuse - tell me what you think of it."

Your heart leapt into your throat and you looked to Myra. There was a twinkle in her eye as she looked back to you, grabbing your hand and squeezing excitedly. 

Your attention was drawn back to the stage as Clay began to sing, strumming his guitar in time with the words you had given him. With the full band, the song sounded different than it had when Clay had played it just for you, but the lyrics were the same, and you found yourself mouthing along.

Hearing your own writing like this - blasted loud enough that your ears would be ringing when you left the venue, loud enough that all the hundreds of people gathered here could hear it, loud enough that the scaffolding you were sitting on vibrated with it - it was like Clay was proclaiming it to the world as he moved into the bridge.

You wound your fingers into the scaffolding, holding onto the metal tightly as you felt tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes. Not enough to actually leave your eyes, but enough that you could feel the weight of the water in your eyelashes. 

You had always admired the powerful quality of Clay's voice - they way he sang made emotion almost tangible in the air, like you could reach out and pluck it from nothing - but there was something about hearing him sing out your affection, and then sing his own to you in response that made your heart lodge in your throat and energy hum under your skin - it was even more magical than the first time you had heard him preform. 

Because this time, the song was for you from him. As it was also for him, from you. Your song. 

Clay started the second verse and your heart swelled up even more - to the common ear, it sounded almost like any other song about love in the summer, but you knew where each and every one of those lines had come from; countless nights spent on the roof of the tour bus after shows blowing smoke rings into the sky, getting pancakes in Atlanta, setting off fireworks in a field in the middle of the night. 

You would have those memories, even when this song was forgotten.

Clay let the last few notes of the song hang in the air for a second before he spoke. "So, what did you all think?"

The crowd erupted into cheers and Clay laughed. You unwound your fingers from the metal of the scaffolding, sliding forward to begin climb down.

"Where are you going?" Myra asked. 

You didn't hear her though, you were too focused on Clay closing the set, wishing the crowd a goodnight and the lights flicking off. You hovered near the edge of the stage until the lights were off, and then you were running, dashing out onto the stage straight at Clay. 

He turned, pulling the mask off to smile at you. "Did you like it- oof!"

You jumped straight into his arms, winding your arms around his shoulders and pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Clay  stumbled a little, but caught you, his arms coming to wrap around your back and one holding your thighs, letting you cling to him. 

"I take it you liked it?"

You picked your head up to look at him. "Clay, it was perfect. You're absolutely amazing-

You didn't get to finish your sentence because Clay was pressing his lips to yours, insistent. You kissed him back with vigor, winding your arms even tighter around him. Someone whistled in the background (most likely Nick, but Myra was a viable option as well), and you could feel Clay laugh into the kiss, pulling back slightly to look you in the eye. 

"I think I should put it on the next album." Clay said. 

"Yeah?" You asked.

"Yeah." He said, a soft sort of tone coming over his voice. "I did say I was going to write an absolute banger when I fell in love, didn't I?"