"Oliver, look, I have feelings for you." I said to myself in the mirror. I swore under my breath. Just not convincing enough. I tried hard to picture him there, and I tried even harder to pretend that he wouldn't look shocked or horrified.

Oli Sykes and me had some sort of thing going on. Maybe it was a fling, after all it was late Spring and wasn't that like, a phrase? Spring fling? But anyways, we'd been just 'friends' for a few months now, and he'd kissed me more than once. And somewhere in the middle I had realized that my feelings were more than just friends messing around.

Feelings was such an ugly word. It implied that I stayed up night after night dreaming of him, it implied that I would do anything to be with him. Okay, so maybe it implied the truth but still, I didn't want to seem so crazy and obsessive.

But maybe I was, maybe I was obsessing over the beautiful and flawless Oliver Sykes when he could care less for me.

I shook myself, trying to get up the nerve to repeat the lines to myself in the mirror of this dirty public bathroom of the theater. In a few minutes, someone would come looking for me to tell me to get ready for sound check.

I thought about Oliver. Even though he wouldn't feel the same in any way, and even though he'd reject me- what could I do? Sit there for one more day and stare at him? Maybe he could run away now, break it all off. If that's what he wanted.

I realized how completely stupid I was being and I left the bathroom to find Oliver standing outside waiting for me.

"Hey, are you alright?" He asked me, and every time I saw him it occurred to me how beautifully perfect he really was. Under the harsh lights, Oli was pale and his tattoos seemed even brighter, like painted porcelain.

He gave me a little half smile and I felt my heart flutter in my chest.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Promise?" Oliver asked again, looking less playful and more concerned. I shrugged off his concerns, and we walked side by side down to where we were supposed to be for our sound check.

"So I asked them about fuck and-"

"What?" I said sharply, alarmed by his word choice.

"The song, Josh." He smiled at me, laughing.

"Oh… um… right." I pretended not to be thinking inappropriate thoughts about his tattooed hands just then.

"You sound so terrified." Oliver laughed again. "So anyways, I asked about it and I told them I needed you to play the song. Because, Josh, I am not playing that song without you. It's our song." He looked so serious for a second that I almost believed him.

He went on to talk about the set list, and then about some fans he spoke to earlier, and I tried to listen, I really did. But even though I watched him become animated as he talked about the excitement of the afternoon, I didn't hear what he was saying.

"Josh?" Oli was asking me something now.

"Sorry, what?"

"You're not listening." He frowned, not because I wasn't listening to him, but because he knew something was wrong.

And I couldn't tell him- not now, not as he smiled about the upcoming show, or talked about how happy he was that we were friends. If I said something now I would ruin the night.

I just smiled and said I was a little tired.

"Not too tired, I hope. You have a show to play." He smiled again, and god his smile killed me. Then we were separated for Bring Me the Horizon to do their sound check, and so I had a little bit of alone time. I didn't retreat to the bathroom again, though, I just went to sit outside and get some fresh air behind the building.

I sighed, putting my head in my hands and wishing for a second that Oliver wasn't so damn perfect. That was the problem; if he wasn't so perfect, I wouldn't be interested at all. In fact, I would've remained one hundred percent straight, never wandering from the same girls time after time.

But then again, what would I do without him? He made me so much better in every way; before meeting him I was always unhappy and incomplete. Oliver taught me how to really live.

Maybe that was why I loved him so much.

After my band, You Me at Six, did our sound check, we had about an hour before the show and Oli was bouncing off the walls. He wanted to go and get something to eat, but I told him I wasn't hungry and to go without me.

However, he wasn't that easy to distract because then he decided he wasn't hungry either and that we should go back to the hotel across the street and sit there until it was time.

Which was exactly what my horrible, gay mind needed: to be locked in a hotel room with Oliver Sykes right now. But it seemed to make him happy, just sitting next to me on the edge of the bed of his hotel room, sketching out an idea for an album cover.

So I sat with him, and pointed out when the lines he sketched looked weird, or helped him come up with something new.

We sat a little too close for my taste; our knees just barely touched. I forced myself not to move or not to freak out over it. It wasn't a big deal. Why did it feel like such a big deal?

"Oliver, I need to tell you something." I blurted out, involuntarily. And now he set down his notebook and his pen, and turned to face me, less than a foot away, patiently waiting.

"Yeah?" He asked, and he looked slightly encouraging, like he wanted to hear what I had to say. I desperately tried to come up with a lie, with something else to say besides the truth, but it seemed that my mouth was doing all the talking without consulting my brain first.

"Josh, it's okay." Oliver rested his hand on mine, and I just stared at it for a second; I just stared at his perfect, tattooed fingers on mine. "You can tell me anything."

"I have feelings." I whispered weakly, not wanting to look him in the eye and say it. "For… for you." I confessed, looking down. At first, Oliver didn't move at all, didn't even take his hand off of mine. And then, he did.

At first it seemed like he was moving away from me, but then as I looked up he grabbed my face in his hands and pulled me closer to him. Oliver kissed me.

I'd never imagined anything so perfect in my life; the way his fingers were cold against my skin, the way I was just frozen there, and he was just kissing me. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't even think. And then he just stopped, but he still held my face in his hands.

He had so much more courage than me; he looked right at me and said-

"Josh, I love you." His hands were shaking the slightest bit as he moved them from my face. "I've had feelings for you for a long time now and I was just scared. But now… if you feel the same… if you wanted, could we… date?"

The idea of 'dating' seemed so unnecessary after sharing such a perfect kiss, but what more could I ask for? To be dating Oliver Sykes?

How completely perfect.

And I must've accidentally whispered that part aloud, because Oliver just smiled at me.