synopsis: coming to coachella to watch your girlfriend headline was a quick, on the spot decision. at first, you couldnât make it due to being booked for the entirety of the day both weekends, but then your management moved things around and worked with sabrinaâs management team to be able to surprise her; or, you surprise your girlfriend at coachella and she hard launches your relationship at the end of her set!
cw: ermmm nothing, reader gives off girly vibes but you can work around it if you want +++ outfit i imagined for reader is in the header!
wc: like⊠really short; 1.4k
suzi speaks: sabrinaâs coachella performance this year for weekend one genuinely had me star struck guys thatâs my girl please ++ thereâs like no wlw sabrina fics on here so i hope someone needed tbis as much as i did LMAO also guys iâve came to the conclusion that bigger text looks a little bit better for the main part of the story so bye bye little textâŠkinda đ
coming to coachella had never been part of your plan.
your schedule had been packed, painfully so. calls, fittings for your upcoming movie, appearances stacked on top of each other until there was barely room to breathe, let alone fly out into the desert for something as spontaneous as watching your girlfriend headline one of the biggest stages in the world.
you had told her you couldnât make it and you remember the way sabrina had smiled through it on the phone: soft, understanding, a little too quick to say âitâs okay, i get it.â like she didnât want you to hear the small disappointment tucked underneath.
and you let her. for aboutâŠ24 hours.
the decision happened fast: management shifted things around, flights got booked, someone somewhere pulled a favor, and suddenly youâre in a car driving through the heat-hazed roads of coachella valley, heart beating a little too hard against your ribs.
your outfit feels like a mix you and âbrina: light, soft, and a little too pretty for the dust and smell of weed around you, but you donât care. you never really have.
you clutch your phone in your lap, staring at the last text she sent you.
wish you were here </3
you smile to yourself. âyeah,â you murmur under your breath, eyes flicking up as the festival grounds come into view. âme too.â
backstage is louder than you expected.
not in volume, but in energy. everything moves fast so fast. people talking over each other, headsets crackling, racks of clothes being wheeled past like theyâre part of some kind of organized chaos.
youâre guided through it all carefully, thank god.
âsheâs about to go into a transition,â someone tells you, one of her stylists you think, clipboard tucked against her chest, eyes scanning everything at once.
she pauses when she looks at you properly, gaze softening a little in understanding.
âsheâs been a littleâŠâ she hesitates, searching for the word. âbummed, i guess. trying not to show it.â
your chest tightens at that. âyeah,â you say quietly. âi know.â
the stylist gives you a small, knowing smile before stepping aside. âsheâll be in there. just uh donât scare her too bad.â
you almost laugh. almost.
the music outside shifts. cheers start to swell, then dim, then rise again like a wave breaking against the stage.
and then, the curtain moves. she steps in hastily and you see her before she sees you.
slightly breathless, cheeks flushed, still glowing from the stage lights, energy clinging to her like something alive. sheâs laughing at something someone behind her says, already halfway to the chair where theyâre going to fix her hair, change her outfit, send her back out again.
but then she looks up and everything stops.
â-what?â it comes out barely above a breath, and you donât move at first, suddenly nervous in a way you hadnât been five seconds ago.
âhi baby,â you say softly.
and thatâs all it takes before sheâs crossing the room, not worried about anyone stopping her, hands finding your face like she needs to make sure youâre real and actually there, her big eyes wide and glassy and so, so bright.
âyouâre here,â she says, voice breaking on the second word. âbut youâŠyou said-â
âi know,â you laugh a little, breath shaky. âi lied.â
she doesnât even pretend to be mad. âyouâre actually here,â she repeats, like she canât quite process it, like if she says it enough times itâll settle into something real.
you nod and thatâs when she kisses you.
itâs immediate and overwhelming. her hands still on your face, pulling you closer like sheâs been holding this in all day and doesnât know how else to let it out.
you feel her smile into it before someone behind her clears their throat, half-laughing, half-reminding. âyouâve got like, thirty seconds.â
she pulls back just enough to look at you again, forehead resting against yours. âyouâre staying okay,â she says, not even a question.
âiâm not going anywhere.â
and that grin on her face, brighter than anything youâve seen on stage, made everything you did to get here worth it.
âokay,â she breathes. âokay, i - god, okay.â
she squeezes your hands once, quick, grounding herself and you, before they start pulling her back into the whirlwind.
right before she disappears again, she leans in, presses one more quick kiss to your lips.
âwatch from the side,â she says. ânot the crowd. i want to see you.â
so you do.
you stand just off the stage, near where security lines the barricade, close enough that you can see everything clearly, far enough that youâre not actually in thereâs crowd.
the lights hit harder from here and the music especially feels louder.
and sabrina, sheâs different now. you can see it in the way she moves, the way she seems more lighter now, like something someone inside her clicked back into place.
her eyes sweep the side of the stage mid-performance, and when they land on you, you see it: that spark in her eyes and that oh so beautiful smile. and itâs not the performance smile, not the polished one, itâs yours.
the final moments come too soon.
the crowd is deafening now, lights flashing, energy peaking as everything builds toward the end.
then, that vintage convertible youâve grown familiar with after 7 months of watching her plan rolls out onto the floor, headlights cutting through the haze, the moment cinematic in a way that almost doesnât feel real.
she climbs in like sheâs done it a thousand times.
the music swells and the crowd screams and the car starts to move.
you think thatâs how it ends, until it doesnât. because when she starts to get closer to the exit, near where youâre standing, it slows then comes to a complete stop.
thereâs a split second where everything feels suspended. the crowd is confused.
you see her eyes search the crowd before landing on you and she leans out of the car.
âcome here!â she yells, gesturing to you.
you donât even remember moving. just the feeling of your heart in your throat, the sound of the crowd shifting into something curiois.
her hands reach for you, guide you just enough towards her, and then youâre there, right at the window of the car.
she grabs you, pulls you in like she did backstage, but this time thereâs nothing quiet about it.
the kiss is deeper and more intentional than backstage.
the crowd erupts but you barely hear it, their screams just start to fade into background noise.
your hands are in her hair, her fingers tight against your waist
your hands sneak their way into her hair, her fingers tighten around your waist to pull you in deeper, and for a second it feels like itâs just the two of you in the middle of something impossibly loud.
when she pulls back, sheâs smiling like she canât help it. âhey there,â she says again, softer this time.
you laugh, breathless. âhi.â and then sheâs gone again, the car starts to move away and the lights explode into their final sequence.
and the night ends with your heart somewhere still back on that stage.
the morning after is quiet, much more softer in a way the night never was.
sunlight spills through the curtains, warm and slow, settling across the bed where youâre half tangled together, bare limbs heavy with sleep and everything that came after the show.
sheâs already awake. you can tell by the way her fingers are tracing absent patterns along your arm, slow, thoughtful, like sheâs still processing everything.
âyou came,â she murmurs, almost to herself.
you hum, eyes still closed. âi did.â
thereâs a pause. then she shifts closer, pressing her face into your shoulder. âiâm really glad you did.â she mumbles.
that makes you smile. you turn slightly, brushing your nose against hers. âme too.â
she looks at you like sheâs memorizing something.
then her phone buzzes. once. twice. again.
you both glance over at it. ââŠshould we?â you ask.
she groans softly. ânoo.â it buzzes again.
you laugh. âitâs probably bad.â
âitâs probably insane,â she corrects, but sheâs reaching for it anyway and you grab yours too.
notifications flood the screen, all being mentions, tags, clips, screenshots.
comments stacking faster than you can even read them.
you glance at her and sheâs already looking at you. slow smile spreading on both your faces.
âwell,â she says, voice still rough from sleep, from singing, from last nights post-show activities. âguess thatâs⊠out there now.â
you laugh softly, setting your phone down again like it can wait. âyeah,â you say and then, quieter now, âi think iâm okay with that.â
she leans in, presses a kiss to your lips - slow, unhurried, nothing like the ones from the night before but somehow just as full.
