Chapter Text
To say you’re Austin Butler’s biggest fan is an understatement.
After that first time seeing him, you decided you needed to see him perform again. So you attend a tribute show and have a blast. You had made your way up to the front once more, getting another kiss and another pastel scarf. Soon, you’d have a small collection of scarves- and kisses too. Because after that second show solidifying your new fixation, you swore never to miss another show Austin did. You would ask off work in advance and drag your best friend with you when possible. They had almost as much fun as you, but over time, they got kind of bored with it. Nonetheless, they still supported your obsession.
Your second favorite Elvis era was the ‘68 Comeback Era, and tonight, Austin was doing a show specifically for that. This is your seventh show seeing Austin, and you’re hoping to run into him again, whether it’s literally or metaphorically. You’re in the front again, chatting with some other people your age. You’ve gotten to know other avid showgoers. This time, you’ve brought your digital camera, and you and some of the other big fans are taking photos together. You get their phone numbers and promise to give them copies of the pictures at the next show.
The lights dim, and Austin is announced, causing an eruption of cheers and applause from the crowd. You and the other fans swarm to the very front barricade, reaching out for Austin as he enters the stage.
“How’s everyone doin’ tonight?” he rasps into the microphone, and everyone shouts back a response or whistles.
“Good to hear,” he smiles, “Everyone, please welcome the Blue Moon Boys tribute band!”
A group of men walks onto the stage, one you recognize as you’ve talked to him before one of the shows. His name is Xavier, and he’s a really nice guy. You didn’t know he worked with Austin in any way, but now you wish you had.
The men all wave and take their seats on stage, with Austin joining them. Throughout the entire performance, you’re captivated by Austin and how great he looks in the black leather jumpsuit. Austin soon gets to the center of the stage. He notices you right away, sending you a wink. Some of the older women you’ve gotten close to giggle and pat your shoulder with big smiles, congratulating you on being acknowledged. Your face feels hot, and you wave back at him meekly. The show concludes, much to your dismay. But with every show, you and some fans hang around and talk. You excuse yourself to go to the restroom and walk away from the group. You’re almost there when you nearly bump into a guy exiting the men’s room. He’s got black hair, and he’s wearing a white t-shirt that’s tucked into his jeans. He looks up at you to apologize, and you nearly gasp.
“Isn’t this the second time I’ve bumped into you, sweetheart?”
You look at him, mouth slightly agape, “I think so.”
“Well, I might as well introduce myself then. I’m Austin,” he holds out a hand for you to shake.
“I’m Y/N. It’s wonderful to meet you,” you grin, trying not to freak out.
“I’m sure it is. I’ve noticed you come to every show, and I just wanna say I appreciate it.”
“Oh,” you look down, your cheeks burning, “Sorry if that’s weird.”
“No, it’s not. I love seeing people come out and still enjoy Elvis,” Austin smiles.
“Well, it’d definitely be weird to ask for a photo with you,” you trail off, but Austin’s smile remains on his face.
“Of course! I don’t mind at all, doll.”
You fumble for your camera in your bag, trying your best not to tremble nervously. Austin hails a passerby, asking them to take the photo for you. Austin stands beside you, sliding a hand on your waist. The first photo is a basic one with both of you smiling, and the second one is Austin kissing you on the cheek suddenly. So suddenly that the photo is taken before your smile turns into a look of surprise.
“Thank you,” Austin thanked the person who took the photos and handed back the camera.
“Do you wanna see them?” you ask, going to the gallery.
“Sure,” Austin says, standing directly behind you and hovering over your shoulder.
“Those are nice. You should give me a copy sometime,” he winks.
“Oh, really?” you chuckle nervously, “I can definitely do that. I’m going to your next show, so.”
“Of course. I’ll see you then,” Austin says, walking away, “Don’t forget!”
“I won’t!” you call after him.
“I most definitely won’t,” you whisper to yourself, looking down at the photo of him kissing your cheek.