this is a mess i hope you enjoy.

ººº

The night had proved to be a drag.

Music was loud, voices tuned out by the speakers and the booming voice of whatever rock band they were playing at the moment, so he had run off to a balcony outside the bar, where the chilly air would be clean of the smell of alcohol and sweat. It was well over midnight, but his friends seemed to be more awake than ever; Nico was off flirting with a girl, most likely asking for her number, while Pedro order them another round of drinks.

It had been a tradition for them to go out after a show, and tonight had been no exception. They'd found a nice middle ground club near the venue, far enough so not that many fans could find them, but not far enough to get lost and get cashed a fortune by the taxi drivers. Truth be told, he was in no mood to go out; now that they were officially home he just wanted to hide away in his apartment for a couple days, and sleep in his bed after the three months they'd been on the road, but his mates had insisted. It was the penultimate show, the penultimate night before they went on a break from the touring and start the writing process for their new album.

It was also to celebrate the end of their first arena tour in the continent, just the three of them, before their management threw a party with all their friends and family tomorrow and were distracted by their attention (personally, Simón couldn't care less but, again, his friends had insisted). 

He had thought of asking Luna to help him ditch, though he'd crossed the idea as soon he remembered she was high on the honeymoon phase with her new boyfriend. The last thing he wanted was to third wheel their date, or fifth wheel if Nina and her boyfriend were with them, too. So, he settled for having a couple of drinks, and help Pedro babysit Nico in case the blond decided to fly solo, or with the girl he was currently flirting with. That boy didn't need another '16 fiasco.

Simón was brought back to the real world and out of his mind by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and found himself eye to eye with a beaming girl, her voice as cheerful as she looked, a tablet well positioned in her hands, "you're Simón Álvarez!" she took his silence as an invitation to sit at their booth, "oh my gosh, I can't believe it! I told my friends you would be here, and they thought I was crazy! But you're here, and I was right and they weren't! I can't wait to tell them!"

Her words were spoken too fast, but he did manage to understand a couple, "wait, wait, wait; you knew we'd be here?"

"As a dedicated journalist, vlogger and one of the biggest fans the Roller-Band has in the city, it's my duty to know where, when and with who you are, of course!" Her chirpy tone never faltered, and it made him feel a little uneasy. Ever after over five years in the industry, he still felt weird when people approached him this way.

"What?!"

"We dedicated fans take details very seriously, silly. Don't worry, I won't post the exclusive right away, and I'll definitely get your good side in the video; though, if you ask me, there's not a bad side, at all." She winked, but quickly turned her attention back to the screen of her tablet; "so, tell me, Simón; what is a hottie like you doing here tonight? Relaxing after a tough show? I heard a girl threw her bra at you and you almost poked your eye with your guitar, can you confirm you're not blind? Also, did Nico really cheat on his last girlfriend with a groupie? Is Pedro gay? I know a girl who would die to get this denied. The Pedro thing, I mean, because Nico is kinda lame, don't you think? I say it's his hair. Anyway, how does it feel knowing the tour is ending with a sold out show in one of Argentina's most important venues? Are you single? Or are you dating that girl from Cancún like that magazine says, hmm?" the girl bombarded him with questions, almost making him mentally dizzy with the speed they were out of her mouth.

"Listen-"

"Jazmín." She offered her name, grinning at him behind the tablet.

"Okay, Jazmín," he nodded, "listen I appreciate the interest but I came here to chill and an interview really isn't what I had in mind-" Jazmín's face fell in disappointment, and he cursed himself for being weak, "- but I guess a couple questions won't hurt, right?"

She was back to beaming in a second. "Great! Thank you so, so, so, so, so much, Simón! The Fab and Chic fans will die when I tell them I met you and got an exclusive!"

He tried to smile as excited as she seemed to be, "yes, great."

"Okay, I can always add the intro later so, back to the questions, did the flying bra blind you?" Jazmín sounded so serious, and so genuinely worried that he had to laugh at the question.

"No, it did not. Though I'd really appreciate it if they stopped throwing them at us, we have no use for them nor do we need them. Keep your bras, ladies."

"They're too expensive to throw," she agreed before asking again, "about tomorrow's show-"

Simón kinda tuned her out for a moment. Because then, he saw her entering. It was almost impossible not to, honestly, since her gold dress was an eye-catcher right away, shinning in the dim light of the balcony. Her scowl was enough to see she wasn't happy, and was glaring directly at them.

"Jazmín!" the girl in front of him tensed immediately, cursing lowly before locking her tablet and turning to look back where golden girl was standing at. "Care to explain what you're doing? Delfina and I have been looking for your ass for half an hour!"

"Ámbar!" Simón couldn't see her face anymore, but he was positive Jazmín was grimacing. "Look who I met! It's Simón, from the Roller Band! I told you they'd be here and he agreed to give us an interview, isn't it great?"

Jazmín's friend's icy glare was now directed at him. She examined him for a minute, her eyes searching for something that he couldn't really pinpoint. In the end, her gaze ended up on Jazmín again.

"That's going to have to wait, because Delfi needs you right now. She found the other bandmates, and wants you to film it for the blog."

The redhead started protesting as soon as the blonde started talking, but her friend was having none of it. "Maybe later? Simón, here-"

"Now, Jazmín." Her tone was final, and it worked.

Jazmín hugged him out of nowhere, snapping a selfie quicker than he could smile and left the two alone, murmuring something that made her friend roll her eyes at her. He waited for the blonde to follow Jazmín out of the balcony, but it surprised him when she made no intention to move. Instead, she kept staring at him.

"What? Is there something wrong?"

"No."

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

She shrugged. "I'm trying to see what the big deal is about you that Jazmín had to go behind my back to try and interview first." Simón was sure he looked as confused as he felt, but the girl offered no further explanation.

"Oh? Well, I'm Simón, it's uh- nice to meet you?" he offered his hand to her, expecting her to shake it like a normal person. Instead, she ignored it and got closer until she was almost in his personal bubble. He vaguely noticed she was short; not as tiny as his best friend, but short enough that even in heels, he easily towered over her.

"Ámbar Smith."

At this point, it was getting awkward. Neither spoke, but her eyes never wavered from him; silently judging him. Never had he felt as uncomfortable as he was now meeting a fan as he was then.

"Uh, if that's all then I guess I should get go-" she stopped him from leaving with her hand, grabbing his forearm lightly.

"You owe The Fab & Chic an interview, remember?" 

"Right. Sorry, I thought that with Jazmín gone-"

The girl, -Ámbar- scowled at his words, "she wasn't even supposed to interview you in the first place."

"I wasn't supposed to get interviewed, at all, in the first place." He joked, trying to get rid of her scowl, and overall of the tense air that had been brewing since she'd joined him in the balcony ten minutes ago.

He was expecting a smile, or even laugh, but -as he was learning- the girl wasn't into doing what he expected. Instead, a frown appeared between her eyes. "You're right, you can go now if you want. I'm sorry if Jazmín or I ruined your night."

She dropped her hand from his arm, and made a move to leave. Simón had to laugh, because a) she didn't look sorry at all, and b) the half smile she was sending him looked more like a grimace than anything else. As soon as his laugh was heard, the scowl was back on her face.

"You didn't ruin my night, Ámbar. I am, however, confused as to why you didn't ask our management for an interview instead of stalking us at a bar."

"We tried, but an interview for a college blog holds no interest to your manager. So, we had to use our own resources, and stalking you until we got somewhat-of-an-exclusive was Jazmín's idea."

Simón smiled. "An idea you still followed." She rolled her eyes, but couldn't deny his affirmation.

"I was overruled. Jazmín's obsessed with the band, and Delfi -the other cofounder of the blog- is in love with your drummer, it was a lost battle."     

They fell into silence then. Simón thought it was cute (and lowkey creepy) that they had bothered and wasted time of their lives to follow them, since they were pretty boring dudes just enjoying making music, and did nothing interesting enough to be 'an exclusive'. For real, the biggest scandal they'd ever gone through was when Nico ended his relationship with Jim over a year ago; and it was only a scandal because the idiot got so drunk he let himself get pictured with another girl a few days after it. Besides that, they lived a very lowkey life that had no drama; it took them months to learn it, but they achieved it and didn't have to endure the scrutiny as often as other 'celebrities'.

Just as she was to leave again, probably thinking he'd never agree to give their blog a chance, he spoke, "we can't let your effort go to waste now that you've met come this far, can we?"

Ámbar's head snapped in his direction, shock evident on her face as her lips formed a little 'o'. He was still smiling, but as the sound of his phone's alarm resonated in the balcony's quietness, he realized just how late it really was. He needed to grab his bandmates before their manager killed them for staying up that late on a show's night.

"Listen, Ámbar, I gotta go now before a search party is sent our way. I can't tomorrow, since it's the end of the tour and all but, uh, the day after tomorrow maybe?" he could tell she was still taken off guard, but she nodded anyway, "perfect! Then, uh, what about same place, but like, way earlier? Can you manage to come here at, say, 14?"

This time she shook her head, "I have class at 13, but I'm free at 15; can it be 16:30 instead?"

He grinned, "16:30 is perfect. I'll see you then."

Simón was halfway to the exit door when she called him back, "wait! How do I know you'll actually show up and not stand me up?" He wondered for a second if she was being serious, but her frown and crossed arms made it more than clear that she was, in fact, waiting for a guarantee.

He wasn't dumb enough to give her his phone number (they'd just met, and even if Ámbar didn't strike him as someone who would throw him to the lions and betray his trust, he still wasn't going to risk it) and since the only things he had on him where his wallet, keys and phone, he was at loss as to what he could give her.

His phone sounded again after the five minutes snooze passed, hurrying him to get out of there and find Pedro. Simón scratched the back of his neck, a nervous habit he'd caught from Pedro years before, and then it hit him. As quickly as he could, he walked back to her, took off the wool garment off his head and put it on hers. It went a little lopsided, her head was smaller than his and wouldn't fit as perfectly as it was used to being on him, but it fitted just fine. He allowed himself to think it looked cute. She was cute, after all.

Ámbar wasn't as happy, though, "what the hell is this?!"

"It's my favorite beanie, given to me by my grandma when the RB was formed, and your guarantee that I'll be here after tomorrow. I really do need to go now, Ámbar; when did you see my friends last, can you tell me?"

"At a table near the bathroom; though, Simón this thing isn't-"

He wasted no time, he kissed her left hand quickly, and ran out of the balcony; barely registering her -by now- almost non-audible protest.

Simón found a tipsy Nico and a very happy-looking Pedro sitting at the table a couple meters away from the bathroom; Jazmín chatting away to her tablet, and a blushing brunette talking to Pedro, a small notebook and a pen in her hand. He guessed she was the other cofounder of the blog Ámbar was talking about, the one smitten with his best friend; he knew he'd have to interrogate Pedro the next morning, his usually-shy-not-talkative friend looked way happy for someone who hated being interviewed. 

"I'm sorry to cut your chat, ladies, but we have to go. It's almost 2 AM and we have a concert tonight." He interrupted, raising his voice so they could hear him from above the music. Nico started laughing at nothing, but Pedro was on his feet immediately, saying his goodbye's and thank you's to Jazmín and her friend. He smiled to the girls, before dragging Nico out of his seat and started walking towards the bar's exit.

As soon as they were out of earshot of anyone in there, Nico asked him where he had run to, why had he ditched them when the girls attacked them for an interview (they hadn't attacked them, Pedro denied, but they did take them off guard when Jazmín appeared with her tablet practically on their faces), and questioned his beanie's whereabouts (at least he knew he wasn't drunk enough to forget that he had one on when the night started). He explained them what had happened, his blond friend lost it.

"Simoncito has a date! Simoncito has a daaaaaateeeee!"

He snorted at Nico's chanting, "I don't have a date, I'm just helping them with their blog."

Now it was Pedro's turn to snort, "you realize the redhead got a selfie with you, and filmed your meeting before you even met her friend, and so you didn't have to give her anything, right?"

Simón didn't answer, groaning when he realized Pedro was right; who, in seconds, was on the floor laughing at his expense.

He really needed to stop being so nice.