twenty-one.

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AS EXPECTED, THE backstage area where Nirvana and other stragglers convened was small and relatively unimpressive. Reagan was hit with a wave of sticky body heat almost as soon as she followed Shelli into the shoebox of a room. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling in graffiti, displaying a visual history of all the bands who had left their mark on the club.

"Hey!" Shelli said cheerfully as Krist came into sight. She threw her arms around him as best as she could with his towering height. He leaned down and kissed her with an exuberant smile, causing Reagan to look away.

Watching the exploits of happy couples in love was not exactly her cup of tea.

Towards the back of room she spotted Dave, sitting on a torn leather couch and guzzling back a water bottle. He must have felt her stare burning into him because he glanced her way, his gaze freezing when he saw her standing in the middle of mayhem.

She pressed her lips together, feeling her face go numb. She wouldn't have known if she was smiling, but the corners of Dave's mouth turned upwards lightly, telling her that she must have at least flashed him some sort of look. It was like he was reading her mind or as if he'd just discovered some sort of sultry secret.

Reagan coughed, averting her stare and hoping that her face wasn't red. That would have been totally mortifying if so. There were too many people around to bear witness.

When she managed to tear her eyes away from Dave, she saw Kurt, standing by himself and rubbing at his eyes tiredly. He didn't fit the image of someone who'd just finished playing a high energy rock concert. He appeared tired, longing for a bed that was not readily available to him. A small sigh rose and fell with his chest.

"Hi," Reagan said, deciding to greet Kurt first. He would have liked that anyway.

He looked at her, his face still wearing the same mask of exhaustion even when he offered her a frail smile. His stamina had clearly been zapped.

"Hey. Hope you enjoyed the shitty show."

"It wasn't shitty," Reagan told him. And just because he looked like he needed it, she hugged him, tucking one arm around his neck and leaning in. She was surprised when he hugged her back, raising his arms so that they hung loosely around her midsection.

She was not a hugger, but she would have given Kurt as many hugs as he liked if it would make him happy. Telling from his disposition, he could have used plenty of them.

"Liar," Kurt said, the word rushing past Reagan's ear as she drew away. She tsk'ed at him, but he ignored her, looking back down at the dilapidated spiral bound notebook in front of him. It must have been his journal, or at least that's what Reagan assumed from the Kurt-esque doodles littering the cover.

Reagan moved past Kurt and went on to Krist, praising him too and offering a hug. Shelli grinned as she watched Reagan lean into Krist's side with one arm around his waist. Her head barely reached his chest.

"We watched the show together," Shelli explained.

"Yeah. And then she dragged me back here against my will," Reagan added.

"Are you sure it was against your will?" Krist asked. He looked briefly over at Dave, who was chatting with a long-haired, tattooed roadie before looking back at Reagan. His smile widened.

"Shut the hell up," Reagan snapped, though she couldn't manage to sound vicious. Shelli cackled.

Besides wanting to escape Krist and Shelli's ruthless taunting, Reagan knew what was coming next. She had saved Dave for last intentionally, hoping that she would be able to gather herself before approaching him.

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