Musician AU:)
Once a roadie, always a roadie.
Molly Hooper never really thought she’d amount to much. She was an over obsessive fan girl, who followed her favorite singer around the country. No matter the fact that she had university, deadlines, a part time job - when Sherlock Holmes and his merry band rolled into town, she dropped everything, ignored every building piece of work and blagged her way to a front of every concert to watch him.
He was amazing.
Of course, he also came with the reputation of being the most irritating and lazy man on the planet. Word was that whilst Sherlock Holmes took the credit and fronted everything, it was John Watson who pulled the strings, who wrote the songs, who chivvied Sherlock in for rehearsals, and yet he never got much credit.
Molly understood that. People tended to use and abuse her intelligence and her kindness, pulling the rug out from under her feet every time. Sometimes she arrives extra late. Sometimes she hangs around at the end. Sometimes she does neither and just returns home, but that’s never been her style. She’s always been good at spinning her words just so she disarms people enough to give her discounts and allow her into private areas. She doesn’t use people…but she does take somewhat of an advantage - and there’s no way she’s giving up the backstage opportunity for this one.
There’s a sofa in the room. It’s not much. Cracked leather that’s begun to fade, but that’s where Molly takes a seat, foot tapping anxiously against the rug covered floor. She can hear the shrieks of the crowd. The band are winding down. Any minute now and they’ll walk through the door. There’s a very high chance that when that happens, Molly will pass out, but she doesn’t focus on that. She just watches the door.
One minute. Two minutes. Five minutes.
And then, the door swings open.
