It was nearly showtime, and Kuroo couldn't have been more ready to get out there in front of the crowd. Bokuto, his bandmate, was jumping around backstage, hooting and hollering as he went through his bizarre pump up ritual. Kuroo, as well as the rest of the stage crew, wisely avoided the overexcited man-child. Anyone in his way would either be crushed under the weight of his overbearing enthusiasm and forced unwillingly to join in, or trigger a complete emotional breakdown as a result of 'killing the vibe'. Neither of those two results were desirable to quite literally anyone in the vicinity, so they all gave him a wide, wide berth and hoped it would be over soon. At least he was wearing headphones this time; if they had to listen to that Seven Nation Army remix one more time, Kuroo suspected there'd be a mutiny among the staff.

His earpiece crackled with static before a quiet voice cut through. It was his 'assistant', Kenma, who didn't exactly perform the usual duties associated with his job title. He was very much so their behind the scenes magic maker and miracle worker, able to fix any technological or logistic problem before anyone even noticed anything was wrong. He was also Kuroo's childhood best friend and his… something or other. Kuroo didn't know exactly what kind of relationship (or lack of) they had, but he didn't really care either; Kenma was Kenma, and also the brains behind this entire operation.

"We're sold out, and it's almost nine," Kenma told him. Another person might have said that sentence impatiently (as the implication was that they were behind schedule) but Kenma's voice was as quiet and even as ever as he laid down simple facts. "Is Bokuto done with his dance yet?"

Kuroo glanced over at his friend (his strange, strange friend whom he loved dearly but did not understand in the least) who was shaking his ass and attempting to hop up and down at the same time. He chuckled softly and replied, "I think we have about thirty more seconds. Should we start moving into positions?"

"Yes," came the immediate reply, and Kuroo could hear fingertips tapping rapidly on a keyboard. "Cueing the lights now, the announcement will be in exactly sixty seconds." Kenma paused, but Kuroo was still listening intently. "Break a leg, Tetsurou."

"Thanks," Kuroo replied, eyes now now focused on the stage from his viewpoint in the wings. Bokuto, satisfied with his warm up, was at the opposite wing, ready to make the first pass. He quickly switched off the microphone connected to his earpiece so he wouldn't permanently damage Kenma's hearing just as a voice called out over the roar of the crowd, asking everyone to welcome them.

Bokuto went first because he always went first. He'd always had an affinity for parkour, and it looked absolutely sick when he came out in his muscles tee and ripped jeans and did a wall run back flip off a structure built specifically for this purpose. Sometimes, if the venue staff needed more time because of a technical issue, Kenma would tell Bokuto (who also had an earpiece, though he was forever messing with it) to do some more tricks. They'd blast some techno music (probably mixed by Bokuto himself) while the problems were sorted out. The fans adored these routines, Bokuto enjoyed the attention, and it kept everything running smoothly. That day, though, he only got in that first trick and a palm spin over a table used to support projection equipment (even though he'd been told many times not to do that in case he damaged something; the team had given up on chastising him and settled for crossing their fingers).

He finished just stage right of center and did a strange, almost Michael Jackson-esque hip sway and gave finger guns in Kuroo's direction, drawing both the spotlight and the crowds attention to him as the singer jogged out waving with his hand above his head. The other held a microphone at his side, so loosely that it actually looked haphazard. He was way more reserved than Bokuto (both on and off stage) but as the adrenaline rush of being in front of a crowd swept through him, he knew he'd be giving it his all on this one. After all, L.A. was technically his home city, or at least the major city closest to where he'd grown up.

"Hey, hey L.A.!" Bokuto yelled, having taken his place on the second level platform that held his drum set, sound mixers, the looping software and of course, his mic. "Let's hear you make some noise!"

Bokuto was excellent at getting crowds excited, his naturally infectious moods playing a huge roll in that. This, along with his surprising amount of knowledge about sound technology, made him a fairly popular DJ and emcee when they weren't touring. Kuroo counted his lucky stars when he thought about how he had almost brushed off Bokuto's seemingly spur of the moment determination to form a musical group, because had he not taken the chance, man would he have missed out.

Kuroo took his place, splitting center stage with Bokuto on his left. He had a mic stand, which he immediately took advantage of even though he had to raise it (Jesus, no matter where they played, everyone always seemed to think he was short or really short because they were never set at an average height). He held up his right hand, the left going to his hip where he hooked his thumb through the belt loop of his ripped black jeans. The crowd quieted some but buzzed nervously with anticipation as he closed his eyes and froze in place for a good twenty seconds.

His eyes snapped open and he whipped his head to the side as Bokuto started up the drum beat to their most popular song, 'Flow'. The lyrics came in eight bars later and Kuroo was ready, more than ready.

Verse 1:

You must be enjoying my waves

I see you rocking hard out there

Float on by, now don't be shy

You have the prize I crave

Silky skin and long soft hair

I will eat you alive

Chorus:

Let's flow like the ocean

Race like a river

Soar through the clouds

I feel you shiver

Romance for eternity

Balanced in perfect harmony

Won't you come along with me?

Verse 2:

In my arms I hold you tight

Bathing in the beaming moon

Silence in the sea of night

But requests come much too soon

"Never leave me, never stray."

I say okay, but never stay

Bridge:

My time here is done

All the songs have been sung

Beauty is fickle, as flighty as you

And once I'm gone you'll move on too

Chorus:

We flowed like the ocean

Raced like a river

Soared through the clouds

Fucked as two sinners

Some things are meant to be

Bodies in perfect harmony

But melodies fall flat, you see-

No use stealing once you have the key

The songs Kuroo wrote were admittedly rather rude, but that's what the fans wanted. His managers (a beautiful girl named Kiyoko and her trainee Hitoka, business and personal respectively) frowned upon cussing, but Kiyoko had told him more than once that audience approval came before her personal tastes. So he didn't hold back much, but he did try to keep in mind that if he wanted to be aired on the radio he would have to write 'clean' versions too- or have few enough infractions to get away with censoring only a word or two. The latter was much easier, and because Kuroo was very much a lazy ass, that's usually the route he took.

They had chosen a relatively short set list for this tour because it was their first and everyone expected to run into trouble depending on the venue. But at this stop, Kenma and the other backstage crew members had kept the show moving so smoothly, they had finished the entire twelve song concert with a good ten or fifteen minutes of leeway.

Just as the final chord of "Bloodied Feet and Hardened Soles (Souls)" was fading, Kuroo heard a telltale crackle (he'd have to remind Kenma to stop breathing on the mic later, it was extremely distracting and liable to mess with his performing headspace).

"Kuroo, Bokuto, you're ahead of schedule for once. Pull a fan or two up onstage, it'll be good for your homecoming tabloid."

Kuroo turned his head to look at Bokuto, who grinned at him, grabbed his mic from where it was by the drumset, and recklessly jumped from his platform to land dangerously close to Kuroo. Even though the crowd gasped, he didn't flinch because he had no doubt that Bo could have made that leap in his sleep.

"So L.A., what do ya say? Was he on fire or what?" Bokuto yelled, clapping Kuroo on the shoulder. The crowd cheered and Kuroo smirked, giving them time to settle down. He made an exaggerated show of rolling his eyes and shaking his head in a parody of modesty, leaning toward the crowd while still angled in Bokuto's direction.

"Nah, you far outdid me Bo… but remember to actually make music next time!" Kuroo threw his head back and laughed, while his bro just cracked a goofy grin and launched himself into a spontaneous back tuck. They ragged on each other like this even offstage, so it felt like they were showing the audience a peek into their private lives. But Kuroo couldn't dwell on that idea, because he could picture Kenma tapping a nonexistent watch on his wrist- the right wrist, which is the wrong wrist- impatiently, and he didn't want to disappoint the overworked little guy.

"Alright, so we've got a surprise for y'all tonight!" Bokuto cheered, holding up his mic as if he were fist pumping. "Who here knows all the words to 'Hang On, Hoarse'?" Kuroo was scanning the first few rows, looking for the perfect fan to grab onto. He needed someone right in their target group (preferably between 19 and 25) and someone who would look as excited as if they'd just won a million bucks; the epitome of a number one fan. He kept searching and finally realized he'd missed a small section of the floor, and was glad he caught his mistake before he'd settled on someone. Right at his feet were two guys probably around the same age as him and Bokuto, if not a little younger. His eyes zeroed in on the freckly one who was cheering and tugging excitedly on his friend's shirt, but was thrown off his game for just a second by the blond at his side. He was tall, really tall, and when they met eyes, Kuroo was taken aback by how he sneered. He quickly shook his head to clear it and leaned down, extending a hand to the cute brunette.

"Come on up here, cutie!" Kuroo called, watching as the kid's eyes widened until they were practically the size of dinner plates. The blond, who looked as if he wanted nothing more than to leave, grudgingly gave his friend a boost as the crowd around them yelled. Kuroo winked at the stranger in thanks, but was completely ignored in a nonchalant way that he would have to contemplate later. "What's your name?"

"T-Tadashi!" the boy yelped, and the audience giggled as he turned a shade of pink. Kuroo led him by the hand to Bokuto who stood center stage, grinning. Kuroo kissed Tadashi on the cheek before passing him over to Bokuto who enveloped him in a bear hug. Their guest had gone from cutely pink to a fairly alarming shade of red as both he and Bokuto slung an arm around his shoulder. Kuroo leaned forward to speak into the mic on the stand without letting go.

"Where are you from?" he asked, looking to his left at Tadashi who responded so loudly, Kuroo didn't even have to repeat it into the mic. There was no mistaking the pride he took in being Los Angeles born and bred.

"Well, we have a challenge for our precious angel here. You guys think he can do it?" The crowd roared again and Bokuto vaulted back up to his set up, while Kuroo waved at someone from the wings to hand Tadashi a microphone. "You said you know 'Hang On Hoarse'?" The reply was mumbled, so he cupped a hand around his ear. "If I can't hear you, no one else can. Into the mic sweetie, do you know our 'Hoar'?"

The audience laughed at the innuendo (as immature as it was) but that just made the slender kid stand up taller. "Yeah. Yeah I do!" Kuroo laughed and the audience (plus Bokuto) ooh'd, but despite looking a little embarrassed, Tadashi stuck to his guns. This filled Kuroo with an odd sense of pride, glad that the kid had overcome some of his nervousness, but unsure why he actually cared that much.

"Alright, alright! Then let's play a game. I'll sing the first line, you the second, and then me the third and so on… but Bokuto sings the chorus!"

"Hey, no fair!" came a yell from above their heads, which Kuroo waved off without turning around. The audience laughed, and Kuroo smiled widely at their visitor on stage.

"I'm really bad at this game," Kuroo lied (how could that be true? He wrote the damn thing!) "Let's see how you do! Hit it!"