Chapter Text
Kit adjusted the collar of his denim jacket for what felt like the tenth time, eyes narrowing slightly at his reflection. The jacket was casual but stylish enough for a night out. He tilted his head slightly, scrutinizing his reflection, his anxiety subtlety rising.
He sighed, blowing a puff of air upward slightly ruffling the hair on his forehead. Reaching up, he ran a nervous hand through his hair, attempting to get it to cooperate, only to grimace slightly as the strands stubbornly refused. He shook his head at his reflection, wondering why he cared so much about this.
“You look fine,” he muttered to himself under his breath, his voice barely louder than a whisper. The self encouragement sounded less convincing than he intended.
It wasn’t as if this evening was anything crazy, he reasoned. Just a casual concert with Joe—one of his closest friends and co-star. Ever since meeting Joe he began to going to more concerts and events like this. Joe’s passion about music always managed to pull Kit into random events he’d never attend by himself. Joe had been obsessed with Conan Gray’s music for weeks, partly because he and Conan were already decently good friends. He had been relentlessly playing songs during their during breaks on set and blasting them obnoxiously loud whenever Kit rode in his car around town.
He had just tolerated Joe’s fixation at first but, slowly and undeniably, the songs began to seep into his subconscious. He found himself humming along absentmindedly, lyrics slipping quietly from his lips while he made breakfast or scrolled through his phone at night. He’d never admit it to Joe, of course—the car music sessions would’ve only gotten even more loud
“Ready yet?” Joe’s voice called from somewhere down the hallway. He had a key to the apartment and often times abused his privileges. Kit startled slightly, shaken from his reverie. He glanced at the clock, realizing he’d spent far longer than necessary deciding between two jackets that, if we’re being honest, look almost exactly the same.
“Yeah, just a second. Doorbells do exist you know” Kit called back, hastily making a final adjustment to his sleeves. With one last critical glance at his reflection, he reluctantly accepted that this was as good as it would get. He took a steadying breath, attempting to quiet the fluttering nerves, and opened his bedroom door.
Joe was leaning casually against the hallway wall, his expression immediately shifting into a knowing smirk as his eyes appraised Kit from head to toe. He raised an eyebrow, amusement evident in his features.
“Looking sharp,” He teased lightly, nudging Kit playfully with his elbow. His grin widened mischievously, eyes twinkling. “Someone might even notice you in the audience tonight.”
Kit rolled his eyes, though a blush warmed his cheeks noticeably. He shrugged nonchalantly, hoping to mask his anxiety behind a facade of casual indifference. He couldn’t help feeling slightly intimidated by the night ahead. Joe already knew Kit so this wasn’t that intense for him but Kit was still getting used to the casual nature in which they met celebrities now. It was something he might honestly never get used to.
“It’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone,” Kit replied defensively, though the slight catch in his voice betrayed him. He cleared his throat, quickly changing the subject to avoid further teasing. “Should we get going, then? Don’t want to be late.”
Joe laughed, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair and throwing it on with his usual carefree ease. “Come on, then,” he said with excitement, practically bouncing on his toes as he led the way down the stairs. Kit followed, trying to draw confidence from Joe’s infectious energy as they stepped out onto the bustling street.
London was alive with the pulse of nightlife, bright lights spilling from shop windows and the buzz of chatter filling the cool evening air. Groups of people walked past, some laughing loudly, others engrossed in excited conversations about their plans for the night. The city felt vibrant.
Kit felt his nerves melting away slightly with every step they took toward the O2 Arena. Joe chatted enthusiastically beside him, occasionally nudging him playfully or pointing out something amusing happening nearby. It was hard not to feel relaxed around Joe, whose energy always seemed to effortlessly lift Kit’s spirits, making him forget his earlier anxieties.
As they drew closer to the arena, the crowd thickened, and Kit found himself weaving through groups of excited fans heading in the same direction. Conversations around them were filled with anticipation, snippets of their conversations drifting past as people speculated about the setlist, their favorite songs, and what Conan might wear on stage. Kit found himself smiling, feeling strangely connected to the strangers around him, all united by their excitement.
Once they cleared the security into the arena they were lead to a roped off section within the general admission area. In. the arena the atmosphere was electric. A steady hum of background music mingled with the excited chatter of thousands of fans, creating a buzz that vibrated through Kit’s chest. People were rushing around, clutching merchandise, snapping pictures, and laughing loudly, their happiness infectious.
Kit glanced around in awe, taking in the sheer scale of the venue, the rows of seats stretching high above, already filling up rapidly. He felt Joe’s eyes on him and turned to see his friend grinning widely, clearly delighted by Kit’s reaction.
“Pretty incredible, huh?” Joe asked, nudging him gently with his elbow.
Kit nodded, eyes wide with wonder. “Yeah, it’s amazing. You really know how to pick a night out.”
Joe laughed, shaking his head. “Just wait till he gets on stage. You haven’t seen anything yet.”
Before Kit could respond, the lights dimmed abruptly, plunging the arena into near darkness. A wave of screams and cheers rose instantly, building to a deafening crescendo as the crowd surged with excitement. Kit’s heart leaped in his chest, adrenaline spiking through him as a spotlight illuminated the stage, cutting sharply through the darkness.
Then, Conan Gray appeared.
He stepped confidently into the spotlight, raising a hand to wave softly, a gentle smile on his face that somehow reached every corner of the massive venue. Kit’s breath caught in his throat. He had seen Conan’s pictures and videos, had heard his voice countless times through speakers, but seeing him in person was entirely different. Conan radiated a warmth and charm that was utterly captivating, effortlessly commanding the attention of everyone in the room.
The music began, familiar chords filling the air, and Conan’s voice rang out, strong and melodic, drawing everyone into the depth of his lyrics. Kit watched in awe, completely mesmerized as Conan moved effortlessly around the stage. He danced with ease, his movements fluid and expressive, perfectly matching the tone of each song.
Kit glanced sideways at Joe occasionally, both of them smiling as they shouted lyrics along with the crowd, their voices blending into the chorus of thousands. Kit felt utterly swept away by the experience, his earlier anxieties completely forgotten as he lost himself in the music and the infectious energy surrounding him.
As the concert continued, Kit felt himself drawn deeper into Conan’s show, some songs resonating deeply, almost as if Conan was singing directly to him. He laughed and cheered along with Joe, leaning over occasionally to shout excited comments or point out something particularly incredible happening on stage.
By the time Conan announced his final song, Kit was breathless, his voice hoarse from singing and shouting along. The final notes echoed powerfully through the arena, accompanied by a spectacular light show that left the audience roaring with appreciation.
When the music finally faded, Kit stood still for a moment, heart pounding wildly in his chest, feeling as if he’d just experienced something life-changing. He turned to Joe, cheeks flushed with excitement, eyes shining brightly.
“That was amazing,” Kit breathed, barely audible over the lingering cheers and applause around them.
Joe elbowed him gently, grinning knowingly. “Told you it’d be good. Ready for the next part?”
Kit blinked, confusion mixing with the lingering exhilaration. “The next part? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Joe chuckled, his eyes glittering mischievously. “We’re going backstage.”
Kit’s heart leaped into his throat. “Backstage? To meet Conan? You didn’t mention—”
“Surprise,” Joe said with a wink. He grabbed Kit by the sleeve, tugging him along confidently toward a side entrance tucked away behind a line of security. The crowd noise faded behind them as Joe flashed a sleek-looking pass to one of the guards. The man barely glanced at it before nodding and stepping aside.
Kit’s pulse quickened, nerves lighting up as they slipped through the door. The hallway was narrow and busy, buzzing with activity. Crew members darted around them, tangled in wires and headsets, some barking instructions to one another other while others laughed and chatted like it was just another Thursday night.
Joe walked like he’d been there a hundred times before, weaving through the chaos with ease. Kit trailed behind, trying to look casual while his heart thudded in his chest. Posters lined the walls, some a little crooked, and the air was thick with leftover fog from the stage effects and something that smelled vaguely like sweat and vanilla.
They rounded another corner—and there he was.
Conan Gray stood near a dressing room door, chatting animatedly with a crew member. He was still glowing from the performance, hair a little messy, hoodie half-zipped over a sparkling stage shirt. He looked relaxed, leaning one shoulder against the wall, smiling like he had all the time in the world.
Kit barely had a second to process it before Conan looked up—and smiled wider.
“Joe! You made it!” Conan stepped forward quickly, pulling Joe into a hug that was casual but warm.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Joe said, patting Conan on the back. They exchanged a few quick words before Joe stepped aside, gesturing toward Kit.
“This is my friend Kit. Kit, Conan.”
Kit straightened a little, trying not to look too stiff. Conan’s eyes landed on him, curious and friendly.
“Hey,” Conan said, offering a relaxed smile. “I’m Conan. Nice to meet you.”
“Kit. Kit Connor,” he replied, shaking Conan’s hand. “Your show was seriously great. I wasn’t expecting it to be that good.”
Conan raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Wow. Backhanded compliment right off the bat. Bold move.”
Kit chuckled. “I meant that in the most best way. Promise.”
“I’ll try not to be too wounded,” Conan said with a small smirk on his lips. “Guess I’ll just have to impress you even more next time.”
Kit laughed. “You planning a private encore just for me, then?”
Conan tilted his head, playful. “Maybe. Depends how charming you are over the next five minutes.”
Joe cleared his throat with obvious intent. “I’m gonna go catch up with a few people. You two—talk amongst yourselves.”
Kit shot him a look, but Joe was already disappearing into the crowded backstage hallway.
Left alone, Kit shoved his hands in his pockets. Conan leaned back against the wall, studying him with a curious gleam in his eye.
“So,” Conan said, “first time seeing me live? Are you one of the types who secretly streams music while pretending to hate it?”
Kit laughed. “Yes, and definitely. But don’t tell Joe—I like to keep his ego in check by arguing with him about your setlist. He’s been playing it non-stop the past two weeks preparing for the show..”
“Oh, you’re one of those fans,” Conan teased. “Let me guess, you think I should’ve opened with ‘Maniac’ instead of closing with it?”
“Actually,” Kit said, pretending to be serious, “I think you should’ve added a cover of ABBA. Really throw the crowd off.”
Conan blinked, then burst out laughing. “Okay, now I’m intrigued.”
“Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it,” Kit replied, nudging him slightly with his elbow. “I bet you’d pull it off.”
Conan grinned. “Alright, Connor. I’ll consider it—if you promise to be front row in sequins next time.”
Kit raised a hand. “Deal. But only if you match.”
“Obviously,” Conan said, mock-offended. “I’m nothing if not fashion-forward.”
They shared a laugh, the tension melting into something easy, something natural. The teasing was light, flirtatious, but neither of them pushed it too far.
“You’re way funnier than I thought you’d be,” Conan said, giving Kit a sideways glance and crossing his arms casually. “Honestly, I was expecting like… posh academic vibes.”
Kit laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Wow. Brutal.”
“Not an insult!” Conan defended quickly, grinning. “Just—Joe talks about you like you read Shakespeare for breakfast.”
“I mean… I do own a few Penguin Classics,” Kit said, pretending to sound smug. “But I balance it out with takeout and really bad reality TV.”
“Now that’s something I can get behind,” Conan replied, smirking. “You’ve got range.”
Kit shrugged. “You have to, in this business. It’s all about staying mysterious.”
“Right. So under the brooding actor aesthetic, there’s just a guy eating take out noodles and watching Love Island?”
“Exactly,” Kit said, grinning. “And don’t act like you’re not doing the same thing, glitter jacket or not.”
Conan laughed, nudging Kit lightly with his elbow. “Okay, maybe a little. But don’t tell anyone. Gotta protect the image.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Kit said, mock solemn. “Unless I need leverage.”
“Blackmail already?” Conan raised an eyebrow. “Bold.”
“What can I say? I’m efficient,” Kit replied with a smirk.
They both laughed, the conversation settling into an easy, natural rhythm. The energy between them wasn’t heavy or intense—it was light, filled mutual curiosity. Conan still looked at Kit like he was trying to figure him out, but now it felt less like a mystery and more like a game they were both enjoying.
“Well,” Conan said finally, his voice dipping into something softer but still playful, “maybe we could grab coffee sometime? You know, return the favor since you came out to the show.”
Kit blinked, just briefly caught off guard, then smiled—wide and honest, no trace of hesitation.
“Yeah, sure. That sounds fun.”
Conan’s smile mirrored his, easy and a little shy. “Cool. I know a few spots around if you’re free sometime in the next few days.”
Before either of them could say anything else, Joe’s voice rang out behind them.
“There you are! I leave you alone for five minutes and you’ve already hijacked the dressing room hallway.”
Kit turned to see Joe approaching with his usual grin, clearly trying not to smirk too hard. Andrew he was right. The hallway they were occupying had cleared out quite a bit.
“Just being friendly,” Kit said quickly, though his tone gave away that he knew exactly what Joe was thinking.
Joe raised his eyebrows but said nothing, instead giving Conan a quick hug. “You were incredible tonight, seriously. The crowd was obsessed with you.”
“Thanks, Joe,” Conan said warmly. “Glad you came.”
Joe looked between Kit and Conan. “Well, I think we’ll get out of your hair now. Big night, you probably need some rest.”
Conan gave Kit one last look—half-smile, half-question—as if checking to see if he meant what he said about coffee. Kit gave a small nod. He did.
“Good meeting you, Kit,” Conan said.
“You too,” Kit replied. “Break a leg on the next stop.”
They exchanged one final smile before Kit followed Joe down the hallway. The buzz of the crowd was now just a distant hum, and the backstage lights felt a little dimmer once they were out of Conan’s orbit.
Outside, the night was cooler, quieter. The streets around the arena were still busy with concertgoers, laughter and chatter echoing down the pavement.
Joe shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “So… you’re welcome.”
Kit rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “Alright, fine. That was… cool.”
“Cool?” Joe scoffed. “You were practically glowing. If you smile any wider, your face might crack.”
“Shut up,” Kit muttered, nudging him.
Joe just laughed, and they walked off into the night, the city alive around them and something new buzzing quietly under Kit’s skin.