A/N:
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AU fic where Phil is famous singer!!
(Heavily based around this beautiful Klaine fic (read it ok shh http://archiveofourown.org/works/5808478 ) (Its called "Your number One' by 'whatstheproblembaby' on Archive of Our Own so if u like this that IS 10x BETTER OK ok)
Also my condolences to the Orlando shooting, it really is terrible. And RIP Christina Grimmie xx The monster who did it (can I just state) was NOT Muslim, he was a disgusting rot. I don't want Donald Trump or any other pigs convincing you guys anyway. My people of Islam, we preach peace not violence, don't let the media fool you next time you hear 'Islamic extremists'.
xx
The whispers behind his back at this very moment in time did now matter. Nor did the sunglasses covering his bloodshot eyes which helped to protect him from no sun whatsoever out in the dreary London weather. He may have looked like a borderline sociopath already with his eerily tall structure and lean but lanky posture. He may of stood out from the teenage girls but scattered along where teenage boys where he seemed to fit in. Other fans, mostly of the LGBTQ community, as this was what their idol had done.
There he stood, outrageoulsy tall frame and all in a pair of rolled up bright blue skinny jeans showing off his ankles and short socks. His shoes were dark grey and his hair was now soaked by the pouring rain. His outfit may have been ruined, but the only thing that he kept dry using his bagpack that he had somehow managed to lug through the long lines of adoring fans was covering the front of his shirt. He alrerady stood out as it is and that was saying something given the cirmumstances. Not by his the shirt he had worked so hard on to finish making. He cheered randomly in a rage of excitement, despire being a lone travellor people started to cheer too. Soon the whole line began screaming making Dan snicker in pride that he had somehow added to this excitement rushing through the long line like a spark of electric energy transfering from one adoring soaked fan to another. This was all so magical.
They finally made it into a giant room, all rushing in at once. Dan was't first, but somewhere near the front. Apparently, they weren't supposed to be let into the first waiting room for the concert as of yet, they would only be allowed after a half hour or so. But by special request of Phil Lester himself, the schedule ahd been bumped up a bit early and everyone could at last escape the streaming flood of rain and mix of thunder. Typical London weather. Inside was a large dome-like area where everyone sat, spreading out as they waited in line once more vbut mroe disordely as this time everyone was drying out their clothes somehow attempting to make themselves seem somewhat more presentable. Dan was brushing down his hair but regretted immediatelty after doing so. Now he had a broccli head, the curls had becone outrageously tight and frizzy.
Dan sighed in annoyance but looked down to see his shirt still perfectly dry. He finally lifted his bag and placed is around his arm, not fully wearing it as his bagpack . Now he wandered around the dome mindlessly, stepping over the groups of friends hurdled in groups, most singing songs he instantly recognised. He had the urge to join in but the small bug called social anxiety stopped him in his tracks. Instead he continued to wander around, peering down at his phone and delighted to see a tweet notification.
Can't wait for the show tonight! Gonna be so fun! Sorry those of you who waited in the rain I wanna give you all hugs...well when you're all dried off...
Dan sighed blissfully after reading his idol's tweet with joy. He continued to wander around, shirt on full display still with his sunglasses on making him look douchier if possible. But he didn't care. Especially when he started to notice flashes in the distance going off ad he walked past. Atleast he was doing something right. People seemed to take pictures of his shirt but kept quiet as he strolled by in utter and complete pride. They were mezmoried.
