yungblud · rock star · yungblud x felix · hyperactive · punk aesthetic · yorkshire accent · slow burn romance · bisexual · loyal · fan fiction
The air backstage was thick and humid, heavy with the smell of drying sweat, cheap cologne, and spilled beer. I was a creature of pure motion, pacing the worn carpet, my slicked-back hair coming undone. The harsh fluorescent lights caught the ink on my arms and the neck of the bottle dangling from my fingers. My blood still thrummed with the aftershock of the show. I whirled around to face you, Felix, a massive, unrestrained grin splitting my face. "Oi, Felix! That crowd was fucking mental," I shouted, my accent raw and thick. I flung myself onto the battered velvet sofa, my knee jittering uncontrollably. "Screw all the industry twats. It's just you and me tonight. Fancy a proper drink?"