Rockstar AU

Baz POV

Baz Pitch adjusted the dark red velvet strap on his jet black guitar. Was it completely vampire-looking and just slightly tacky? Probably. Did he love it anyway? Of course. He ran a hand through his black hair and pretended to listen while his manager warned him not to pull any stupid stunts.

"Remember, we don't had the security in place to do anything crazy like crowd surfing or anything. And you can not go walking through the audience again. I mean, for goodness sakes, Basilton, you nearly got mauled last time!"

"Please, I was fine. Besides, that girl never had a chance. If she read a single interview or magazine from the last year she'd know I'm gay. I really doubt she was any harm. Further, she was, what, twelve? How did she even get in without an adult?"

"You're missing the point," Marla snapped. "Promise me, Baz, you won't pull any impromptu stunts?"

"Sure, Marla," Baz said, crossing his fingers behind his back. He couldn't promise not to make the show fantastic for his fans, and they loved when he pulled out something big. He checked his mic one more time, put in his earplugs, and pushed open the door to his dressing room. He wasn't scheduled to go on for another twenty minutes, and the opening act hadn't even started, but already he could hear the crowd chanting.

Simon POV

Simon clutched the guardrail in anticipation, feeling the adrenaline radiating through him. He'd been a fan of Baz Pitch since he'd released his first song, two years before he'd even gotten famous. Simon had sat for hours listening to Baz's online videos, and had closely followed Baz's rise to fame, cheering him on from afar. Now he was actually at a concert, and he had to keep reminding himself it was real. Baz had not only given him the gift of amazing music, but had also inspired Simon to come out to his family and friends after Baz, life at the VMAs, announced that he was gay, and was tired of hiding it. Simon had been amazed that someone who was so prominent in Hollywood could so easily declare that he was different from the (socially constructed) norm, and it had inspired him to be himself as well.

Which was a big reason why he was here, actually. He wanted to thank Baz for everything, but doubted that sending a standard fan mail letter would even get to Baz, let alone have the impact he wanted. So instead it was safely tucked in the pages of a notebook in Simon's backpack, waiting for the end of the show, so Baz didn't have to worry about losing it during the show. Simon had thought it all out, and although he felt a little obsessive he knew this was something he wanted to do. Just then the opening act came on, and Simon's grip on the guardrail tightened; it was starting.

Baz POV

Half an hour later Baz was ready to step out on the stage. He picked up his guitar and climbed onto the small platform that let him rise up in the middle of the stage, making a theatrical entrance. The lights were all out, except for a red one that backlit him, silhouetting him as he rose. When his head came into view of the crowd he heard them scream and he didn't bother to hide the grin that broke on his face. He looked up, making eye contact with some of the closest fans, who screamed louder. Then his eyes landed on an anomaly: a boy, seemingly about his age, standing completely silent and watching Baz with...something other than the blind fan love he usually saw. This was something more...honest, more real. And, to top it off, the boy was very attractive. 'Yeah, okay, he's definitely going to be the one I bring up on stage later' Baz decided.

"How's everyone doing tonight?" he yelled. The response was defining. "Good," he said, chuckling. "Are you ready to get this started?" Again, noise that almost broke his ears through his earplugs. He smiled, and without another word blasted out the opening chord to one of his favorite songs to open with, 'Kindred Night'. He could feel the energy of the crowd rise with every passing lyric.

"You are my never solace, the spark before the flame

In this darkness of my soul you are the one who stays with me

tonight we'll feel our souls collide, this is our kindred night!"

When he finished he let the last note ring out, instead of quieting it like he usually did. He felt alive, which was something he didn't feel a lot lately. The rockstar lifestyle had taken more than one toll on him, and the only time he felt anything but numb anymore was in moments like these, with the fans connecting to his music like he'd always intended.

About an hour later he was ready for the big moment he always loved: bringing a fan up on stage. They always looked so excited and grateful, it reminded him why he put up with the three am headaches over finishing a song, or the never-ending interviews. He had just finished a slower song, and he was ready to pick things back up.

"Alright, guys," he said, sliding his guitar around to his back for a minute, "This next song is pretty special to me, because it's pretty old. But, before I get started, I need someone up here with me." Baz walked over to the edge of the stage and looked down at the blond guy with the blue eyes he'd noticed at the beginning. His heart was hammering, but he tried not to let his nerves show. "You." The blond looked up at him in surprise, his curls falling in his face.

"Me?" he asked.

"Yes, you," Baz said, reaching down a hand to help the boy up. A security guard was there to help too, and soon Baz found himself standing inches away from the most attractive boy he'd ever seen, in or out of Hollywood.

Simon POV

"So, what's you name?" Baz asked, coll as ever. Simon had to swallow twice before his voice felt like it would function.

"Simon."

"Nice to meet you. You know Savior?" Baz asked.

"It's my favorite," Simon answered honestly. Baz grinned and handed Simon a microphone.

"Good." Simon waited for Baz to take the first verse, then joined in hesitantly; this was so surreal he was afraid to break the spell.

"Invisible wings, like an angel of the night

bringing me back from the brink of this neverending spiral of my life

the one I never thought I'd find, constant in my dreams

stay with me, my savior, together, perfectly."

Simon glance at Baz, who turned and looked him square in the eyes while the musical break built. Simon felt like he was going to explode.

Baz POV

He was going to explode. He could feel it. Simon's eyes were burning blue under the stage lights, and Baz almost forgot to keep singing when the time came.

"Wait here," Baz mumbled, covering his mic. He rushed to the side of the stage where an assistant kept his extra guitar strings and other emergency things. "Get me a backstage pass, now," Baz told the assistant, who nodded and ran off. In the meantime Baz returned to the stage. "Sorry about that, minor emergency. Anyway, wasn't he amazing?" Baz asked the crowd, who cheered their approval. The assistant came running out and handed Baz the pass, and Baz smiled. "Oh good. Here," he dropped the lanyard over Simon's head. "This is for you. Thanks for singing with me." He helped Simon back down to his seat, smirking when Simon attempted to speak and ended up mumbling incoherently.

As soon as the concert finished Baz was off the stage and in his dressing room. He didn't have time, or a means, for a shower, so instead he dumped a bottle of water over his head, the blow dried it so it didn't look too wet. By the time there was a knock at his door he was ready. Well, besides his heart, which was beating like a jackhammer. He took a deep breath and opened the door, coming face to face with Simon and a security guard named Michael.

"Hey," Baz said, his voice sounding way more steady than he felt.

"Hey," Simon said back, his voice sounding as unsteady as Baz felt. It made Baz smile, knowing they were both nervous.

"Come on in. Thank for showing him the way, Michael." Baz gestured to the couch that occupied one wall of the small dressing room. "Please, sit. Do you want some water?"

"I'm fine," Simon mumbled. They sat on the couch, a good foot between them.

"So, did you like the concert?" Baz asked.

"Oh yeah, it was amazing! You're amazing," Simon blurted. He blushed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that. I just...I don't know."

"It's fine. You were pretty amazing, too. I'm guessing you know 'Savior' pretty well?"

"Yeah, um, I've been watching your videos since the first one, 'Under the Rain Clouds.'"

"Really? Wow. So you're like a super fan?"

"Well, I mean, I guess kinda," Simon said. "Oh, um, before I forget, this is for you." He pulled out the envelope he'd planned to give to Baz and handed it to him. "This is, um, well I guess this is everything I never thought I'd get to tell you." Baz ran a thumb over the slightly messy scrawl on the front of the envelope that spelled out his name. He got piles of fan mail every day, but this felt more genuine than the others did. Just like Simon himself. Without a second thought Baz opened the letter.

"Oh, um, you don't have to read it now," Simon said a little too quickly. Baz smiled.

"I want to, if that's okay?"

"Um, y-yeah, s-sure." Baz unfolded the letter, and began reading,

Dear Baz Pitch,

I'm not sure if you'll ever read this, and honestly you probably won't, but I feel like I have to try anyway.

First off, I want to thank you for being as open and honest as you always are. So many famous people act a certain way just because they "should", but not you. You tell it like it is, and you're so selfless when it comes to your fans, which I really admire (that time you sent five hundred signed shirts to that radio show after you found out you couldn't stay to meet people? I was there, and I can promise that everyone there really appreciated it).

Second, I'd like to say I love how real your music is. You write about dark things, but they're the things that no one ever talks about that should be talked about. I've spent a lot of time listening to your music, and the feeling of being...understood, is one that I've rarely felt.

Finally, I'd like to thank you specifically for how honest and frank you were when you came out. You showed me that it doesn't have to be a big deal, and it gave me the courage to come out myself.

I'm sorry if this sounds really stereotypically fanboyish, I'm sorry. I really didn't want it to be, but I really do admire you, and I really wanted you to know that. I guess the short version of all of this is, thank you for being you.

Baz read the letter twice, and probably would have done it a third time if Simon hadn't spoken up.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"What? No, why would I?" Baz asked.

"Because I'm just another crazy fan, at least I'm sure that's how that letter sounds." Simon was blushing, but he also looked really sad.

"No," Baz said, setting the letter on the table in front of him. "You sound genuine. And honestly, I really appreciate that. It's not often people care about me, and not just my fame."

"I bet that's hard," Simon said.

"Yeah. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my job, and the fans mean everything to me, but, well, you're one in a million." Now they were both blushing, and when Michael knocked on the door they both jumped.

"Mr. Pitch, it's time to pack it up. You've got an interview in five hours, and we're looking at a three hour drive."

"Alright, just one minute, okay?" Baz asked. Michael nodded and left, but Baz knew he wasn't far.

"I guess I should go, huh?" Simon said. "I wouldn't want to mess up your schedule." Simon picked up his bag, but Baz was already back across the room.

"Wait," he said, pulling a pen out of his pocket, "Can I, um, I mean...can I give you my number? I really liked talking with you, and, well, I'd like to continue. If you don't mind?" Simon looked like Baz had just proposed to him, and for a horrible moment Baz thought Simon might say no, but then he was pulling a slightly crunched piece of paper from his bag and handing it to Baz. Baz took it, tore it in half, and scribbled his name and number on it, then handed everything to Simon.

"And, could I maybe get yours?"

"Sure," Simon said, his shaking hands barely able to write his name and number. He handed it back to Baz, along with the pen. "So, we'll talk sometime?"

"Yes," Baz said. "Tomorrow? Around noon?"

"Noon," Simon agreed. They stood there awkwardly for a moment before Simon reached for the doorknob. And the Baz was holding his hand, and they were both staring in each other's wide eyes, full of everything this could be and all of the uncertainty that went with it. Then Simon wrapped his fingers around Baz's, and they both had small smiles on their lips.

"So, tomorrow?" Baz asked quietly.

"Tomorrow," Simon agreed. He let go of Baz's hand and left, but he hadn't made it even to the end of the hallway with Michael before his phone buzzed with a text.

You're really cute. Also, your eyes are really, really blue.