madison🐞

I take suggestions

[xoxies0]

Something only we know

Joe Kerry x reader

Profiles- instagram-profiles

-backstory

1-look-for-you

2--after-party

3-date-date-date

4-for-the-night-

5-fool

6-dinner

7- i-cant-hear-you

8- lets-go

9-new-york

10- its-okay

11- rehearsal

12-club

13-fashion-show

14-i-guess

15-your-ridiculous

16-am-i-overacting

17- okay

18-did-we-break-up-

19-what-now

20-shopping , joe-perspective

21-come-on-yn

22-chicago

23-hi

24-we-are-so-back

25 -thank-you

26- sally

27

28

[xoxies0]

26- Sally

The next morning, sunlight slips through the curtains.

You wake up slowly, still feeling a little tired from last night.

For a second, you just lie there, staring at the ceiling.

Then everything comes back.

The set.

The crowd.

Joe.

You sit up and reach for your phone on the nightstand.

A few notifications.

Messages from Monica.

A couple posts from fans already talking about your performance. Outside, the city is already awake.

Another day of the festival. Another long day ahead.

You get up and walk to the bathroom, starting to get ready for the day.

You straighten your hair, watching it fall perfectly into place, then do some light makeup.

Once you’re finished, you slip into a black halter top, a white floral lace midi skirt, and black boots.

You make your way down to the hotel lobby, the sound of your boots clicking softly against the floor. The lobby is already busy with people coming and going, the city outside fully awake.

A car is waiting out front to take you to Lollapalooza.

You step outside, the morning air hitting your skin, and slide into the back seat. As the car pulls away from the hotel, you look out the window at the city rushing by

The car pulls up outside Lollapalooza, and you step out, the energy of the festival already buzzing around you. Crew members move quickly across the grounds, artists and staff heading in every direction as the day begins.

As you make your way backstage, a familiar voice calls your name.

“Y/n!”

You turn around to see Tucker walking up to you with a grin.

“Hey,” he says, falling into step beside you. “I was looking for you.”

You smile. “What’s up?”

He hesitates for a second before asking, “Would you be the Sally?”

A smile instantly spreads across your face.

“Yes, of course.”

Tucker’s expression lights up. “Really?”

You nod, laughing softly. “Yes.”

He smiles back at you, clearly happy with your answer, and the two of you continue walking through backstage together.

Tucker glances toward the stage and then back at you. “I go on in like an hour.”

You nod, about to reply, when your eyes catch a familiar figure a little farther backstage.

Joe.

You look back at Tucker, trying to hide your smile. “I’ll be right back.”

He smirks immediately, already knowing exactly what’s going on.

“Mhm,” he says, teasing. “Tell me what happens when you come back.”

You shake your head, laughing softly, then nod.

“I will.”

With a small smile still on your face, you turn and start walking toward Joe.

As you walk up to him, Joe looks over and a small smile spreads across his face.

“Hey, you,” he says.

You smile back, stopping in front of him.

“Hello.”

For a moment, the noise of backstage fades into the background, leaving just the two of you standing there. Joe’s eyes flick over your outfit before meeting yours again, his smile lingering.

“You look nice,” he says softly.

“Thank you” you say smiling

Joe looks at you for a moment, then tilts his head. “Have you eaten yet? Want to grab something before everything starts?”

You blink, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Actually… yeah, that sounds good.”

He grins. “Cool. Let’s go.”

The two of you start walking together through the festival

You look over at Joe and smile. “We should get coffee.”

Joe glances at you and grins. “Coffee? At a festival?”

You laugh softly. “Yes. I need it.”

He smiles and nods. “Then coffee it is.”

The two of you start walking toward one of the coffee stands, weaving through the crowd together.

You and Joe get your coffees and walk away from the crowd.

Joe looks at you. “Come sit with me for a minute.”

You nod and follow him to a quieter spot near the side of the stage.

The two of you sit down with your coffees.

You take a sip and look over at him.

Joe smiles a little. “So what are you doing today?”

You smile. “I’m gonna be Sally for Tucker’s set.”

He nods. “That’s gonna be fun.”

You laugh softly. “Yeah, I’m excited.”

For a second it’s quiet, just the two of you sitting there while the festival keeps going around you.

Then Joe looks back at you. “So when does Tucker go on?”

You take another sip of your coffee and look over at him. “In like an hour.”

Joe nods, leaning back a little. “Nice. Plenty of time then.”

You smile and nod. “Mhm.”

Joe smiles a little and looks over at you.

“I might come watch too.”

A smile spreads across your face. “You should.”

He nods. “Yeah. I kinda want to see you as Sally.”

You laugh softly and take another sip of your coffee. “Then you better be there.”

He smirks. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Before you can say anything else, a voice cuts in.

“Hey.”

You look up to see George, your security guard, standing there.

“Let’s go,” he says. “It’s time to get ready.”

You nod. “Okay.”

You look back at Joe, a small smile on your face. “I’ll see you later?”

Joe nods. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

You smile, then stand up, finishing your coffee before walking off with George.

You can feel Joe’s eyes on you as you leave.

The crowd is loud as Tucker walks out on stage.

Music starts. Lights flash. Everyone’s screaming.

You stand off to the side of the stage, waiting.

He’s singing, moving around, completely in his element.

You watch him, a small smile on your face.

Out in the crowd, Joe stands somewhere in the middle, surrounded by people.

Song after song.

The energy keeps building.

Then you hear the beginning of Sally, When the Wine Runs Out.

You smile.

Then you hear Tucker’s voice.

“Where’s my Sally tonight?”

The crowd screams.

You walk out onto the stage, smiling.

The lights hit you. The crowd goes even louder.

You look over at Tucker, laughing a little as you start singing and dancing with him.

The energy is crazy.

Music loud. People screaming.

You spin around him, then reach up and take his cowboy hat, placing it on your head.

The crowd goes wild.

The song ends.

The crowd is still screaming.

You and Tucker laugh, a little out of breath, as the music fades.

He pulls you into a quick side hug before letting go.

“Give it up for my Sally!” he shouts.

The crowd goes even louder.

You smile, waving as you both walk off the stage.

As soon as you step backstage, the noise fades just a little, replaced by voices and movement all around you.

Tucker looks at you, grinning. “You killed that.”

You laugh softly. “So did you.”

Tucker and you are still laughing backstage, the energy from the stage still buzzing through you.

Before you can even fully catch your breath, your manager steps in.

“Y/n, come on—you’ve got an interview.”

You blink. “Right now?”

They nod. “Yeah, they’re waiting.”

You glance back toward Tucker, still smiling. “I’ll be right back.”

Tucker nods. “Go. Be famous.”

You laugh softly and follow your manager through backstage, the noise of the festival picking back up around you as you head toward the interview area.

cameras rolling. You sit down, still catching your breath a little from the stage.

The interviewer smiles. “That performance was insane. How did it feel being out there as Sally?”

You laugh softly. “Honestly? Kind of unreal. The crowd was crazy.”

They nod, smiling. “And we have to ask… you were seen with Joe Keery earlier today. What’s going on there?”

You pause for a second, then just smile and look away slightly, letting out a small breath. You don’t answer.

The interviewer catches it and smoothly moves on.

“So how does it feel not performing today, just being in the crowd and taking it all in?”

You nod. “It’s actually nice. Less pressure. I get to just… enjoy it. Watch everyone else have their moment.”

You smile a little. “I’m really excited to see some of my good friends too—Addison and Dominic Fike.”

The interviewer nods. “That’ll be fun.”

You nod back. “Yeah. It should be a really good day.”

For a second, the noise of the festival outside hums in the background while the cameras stay on you.

The interview wraps up a few minutes later.

“Thank you so much for coming on,” the interviewer says.

You smile and nod. “Of course.”

You stand up, adjusting yourself slightly as the cameras cut and the lights soften.

Backstage feels louder again as soon as you step out of the interview area—crew moving around, music in the distance, the whole festival still going.

You take a breath and head toward the fan area.

Security guides you through as the noise gets louder, screams already picking up before you even fully step out.

Phones go up immediately.

You smile, waving as you walk closer, stopping to sign things, take pictures, and say quick hellos.

“Hi!”

“Thank you for coming!”

“You guys are amazing!”

The moment blends into a blur of faces, voices, and flashing cameras.

And just like that, the day keeps moving.

Tag list-@nosebeers, @stoneyggirl, @beth-mirrorball, @muffinbrown

[xoxies0]

25-thank you

something-only-we-know

The second you step offstage, everyone is already there.

Monica reaches you first.

“That was amazing,” she says, smiling.

George and John are right behind her, both grinning.

“You killed that,” George says.

“The crowd loved you,” John adds.

A few more people from your team come over, congratulating you as the adrenaline from the performance is still running through you.

You’re still catching your breath, smiling, saying thank you.

Then, over everyone’s shoulders, your eyes catch someone standing a little farther down the backstage path.

Joe.

For a second, you pause.

Then you look back at everyone around you.

“I’ll be right back,” you say softly.

Monica gives you a small look but nods.

You step away from the group and start walking toward him.

As you get closer, he looks up.

“Hey,” he says.

You stop in front of him.

“Hi.”

For a second, the two of you just stand there.

Then Joe gives you a small smile.

“You were amazing up there.”

You let out a quiet breath, still catching your breath from the set.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

A small smile pulls at your lips.

The crowd is still loud somewhere in the distance, but standing here, everything feels a little quieter.

You look at him for a second, then smile a little.

“I saw your set too,” you say quietly.

For a moment, there’s just the sound of people moving around backstage in the distance.

Joe’s expression softens.

“Yeah?”

You nod.

“It was really good.”

A small smile pulls at his lips.

“Thanks.”

The two of you stand there for a second, the noise of the festival fading into the background.

Neither of you seems in a rush to leave.

Joe looks at you for a second, then asks quietly, “How have you been?”

You let out a small breath and glance away.

Without saying anything, you reach into your bag and pull out a cigarette and a lighter.

You step a little to the side, shielding the flame with your hand as you light it.

The tip glows softly in the evening light.

You take a slow drag, then look back at him.

“I’ve been okay,” you say, your voice calm.

The noise of the festival hums in the background, but between the two of you, everything feels quieter.

Joe watches you for a moment, then nods slowly.

“Okay” he says softly.

Joe looks at you for a moment, then lets out a small breath.

“I didn’t expect to see you out there.”

You glance down for a second, the cigarette still between your fingers, then look back at him.

A small smile touches your lips.

“I wanted to see your set.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, like he’s letting that sink in.

Then he nods slowly.

“The new songs…” he says after a beat, his voice softer now. “When are they coming out?”

You let out a quiet laugh, the smoke fading into the evening air.

“Soon,” you say. “I wanted Chicago to hear them first.”

His expression shifts into a small smile.

“That’s kinda crazy.”

You lift a shoulder. “Good crazy?”

He looks at you for a second longer.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Good crazy.”

For a moment, neither of you says anything.

The festival noise hums in the distance, softer now.

You take one last drag before putting out the cigarette and dropping it into the tray nearby.

Joe glances at you, then starts walking down the backstage path.

You fall into step beside him.

Neither of you rushes to fill the silence.

The air feels cooler now, the sunset almost gone.

As you walk slowly through the backstage area, the two of you don’t speak for a moment.

Then, a crew member trips nearby, barely catching themselves on a cable. You let out a soft laugh.

Joe chuckles too, quiet but genuine.

The small sound breaks the tension just enough to feel natural.

You glance at him and say softly, “Thanks for coming.”

He meets your eyes and gives a small smile.

“Always,” he replies.

Joe glances at you, his expression calm.

Before either of you can say anything else, someone calls your name from across backstage.

“Y/N!”

You turn your head toward the voice.

Monica is standing a little farther down the path, motioning for you to come over.

You look back at Joe.

“I gotta go,” you say softly.

He nods.

“Yeah.”

For a second, neither of you moves.

Then you give him a small smile.

“See you around.”

Joe gives the slightest smile back.

“See you.”

You turn and walk away, the festival noise getting louder again as you head back toward your team.

Tag list-@nosebeers, @stoneyggirl, @beth-mirrorball

[xoxies0]

24- we are so back

something-only-we-know

Monica steps back into the trailer.

“You’re on in thirty.”

The room goes quiet for a second.

It’s almost time.

You take a small breath, glancing at yourself in the mirror one more time.

Your band is already getting their things together behind you.

George taps his sticks lightly against his leg.

John adjusts his guitar strap.

Everything starts moving a little faster.

“Alright,” Monica says. “Let’s go.”

You stand up.

Your heart starts beating a little quicker as you follow everyone out of the trailer and into the backstage chaos.

The closer you get to the stage, the louder it gets.

The crowd.

The music from the previous set fading out.

Voices calling out cues.

You stop just off to the side of the stage.

From here, you can see the crowd.

It’s bigger than you expected.

For a second, you just stand there, taking it in.

Then someone gives you the signal.

“You’re up.”

You take one last breath and step onto the stage.

The crowd immediately erupts into cheers.

The sunset light washes over everything in soft gold and pink, and for a second you just take it all in.

So many faces.

So many phones in the air.

So much noise.

A smile slowly spreads across your face.

“Hi, Chicago!” you call out, lifting the mic.

The crowd gets even louder.

Behind you, George settles in at the drums and John gets into position with his guitar.

The opening beat of “Home to Another One” starts to play.

A wave of excitement rushes through you.

Then you start to sing.

The crowd instantly picks up the energy, moving with the music as the sun starts to dip lower behind the stage.

For the first time all day, the nerves start to fade.

Up here, it feels right.

As “Home to Another One” comes to an end, the crowd cheers loudly.

You smile, taking a quick breath as the energy from the first song settles into excitement.

“Thank you, Chicago,” you say, your voice carrying over the crowd.

The beat shifts almost immediately.

George counts in softly behind you.

Then the opening of “Yes Baby” starts.

The crowd reacts right away, getting even louder.

You move across the stage more comfortably now, the nerves from earlier fading with every second.

The sunset light hits the stage in soft pink and gold, making everything feel warm.

People near the front are already singing along, phones up, lights flashing.

You can’t help but smile as you sing, letting yourself settle fully into the performance.

Somewhere off to the side of the stage, away from the main crowd, there’s a section blocked off.

Joe stands there, leaning lightly against the barrier.

From here, he has a clear view of the stage.

Of you.

The music carries over, loud but not overwhelming.

People around him talk quietly, some watching, some just passing through.

But his attention stays forward.

On you.

He watches as you move across the stage, more comfortable now, the crowd fully with you.

For a moment, he just stands there, hands resting against the rail, taking it in.

As “Baby” comes to an end, the crowd cheers loudly.

You take a small breath, smiling as the noise settles just a little.

Then, instead of moving right into the next song, you walk toward the edge of the stage and sit down.

The crowd quiets slightly, curious.

You adjust the mic in your hand, looking out at everyone.

“Okay,” you say softly. “I’m gonna sing something new.”

A few cheers break out.

You smile a little.

“This one’s not out yet… it’s called Dangerous.”

The reaction builds again, excited but softer this time.

Then the music starts.

A soft piano fills the air.

The whole mood shifts.

The crowd quiets, listening.

You look out at them for a second…

then start to sing.

The first notes flow through the speakers, soft but full, carrying across the festival grounds.

The crowd quiets almost instinctively, some swaying gently, some holding up their phones to capture the moment.

You close your eyes for a second, letting the music guide you

The sunset casts a warm glow over everything, softening the edges of the stage lights and making the whole scene feel almost intimate despite the thousands of people out there.

Joe stands off to the side in the artist section, away from the crowd.

The piano of Dangerous fills the air, and your voice carries over the festival grounds.

He watches quietly, taking in the way you move on stage, focused and in the moment.

The last notes of Dangerous fade, and the crowd cheers softly, some clapping along.

You take a small breath and smile, letting yourself soak in the moment for a second.

“Thanks, you guys,” you say softly. “I hope you liked that one.”

A few cheers break out again.

Then you lean slightly into the mic.

“Now… this next one is called 15 Minutes.”

The opening beat starts, soft at first, and you nod to George and John, signaling them to begin.

The crowd leans in, curious, ready for something new.

You feel the music take over as you start singing.

The beat of 15 Minutes pulses through the stage as you move with the music, letting the rhythm guide you.

The crowd cheers around you, but you lock your gaze on the camera pointing toward the audience.

“Show me how much you care, touch me and pull my hair,” you sing, your eyes sharp and direct, letting the words land just right.

“Give me emotions I can’t bear (I can’t bear),” you continue, voice steady, fingers brushing lightly over the mic as the camera catches every movement.

“I want you to fantasize and think of it every night (every night),” you sing, letting the lyrics linger in the lens.

“Never forget… I made you mine,” you finish the line, looking straight into the camera subtle, pointed, unmistakable.

Even through the lens, your eyes stay locked, every word carrying the meaning only he would understand.

As the song comes to an end, the crowd erupts.

Cheering.

Screaming.

Phones in the air.

You smile, a little out of breath, looking out at everyone.

“Chicago, you guys are insane,” you laugh into the mic.

The crowd gets even louder.

You smile into the mic, still catching your breath.

“Okay, Chicago… one more.”

The crowd screams.

The opening beat of Make You Mine starts, and the energy rises all over again.

As the last song ends, the crowd erupts again.

Cheering.

Screaming.

You smile and wave at everyone one last time.

“Thank you, Chicago!”

The lights stay on you for a moment as you take one last look at the crowd.

Then you turn and walk offstage, still a little out of breath.

The second you step backstage, the noise from the crowd feels farther away, but you can still hear them cheering.

A small smile stays on your face as you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding.

You did it

Tag list-@nosebeers, @stoneyggirl, @beth-mirrorball

[djospurnell]

his hands are so fucking big holy fuck i’m screaming crying throwing up

[xoxies0]

23- HI

something-only-we-know

At 7:30 a.m., a knock at the door pulls you out of sleep.

You blink a few times, still half asleep, before pushing yourself out of bed and walking to the door.

The second you open it, Monica is standing there.

“Come on,” she says quickly. “We have soundcheck. You’re going to get ready over there, so just put your shoes on, grab your phone, and let’s go. The car is waiting.”

You let out a tired sigh and nod.

“Okay.”

You slip on your shoes, grab your phone from the nightstand, and follow her out, still trying to wake up as you head toward the elevator.

Monica leads you toward the main stage.

Crew members are already moving around, adjusting lights and cables.

“Let’s do a quick line check first,” someone says into a headset.

You step up onto the stage, taking in how huge everything looks from up here.

Even empty, it already feels massive.

Rows and rows of space that will be filled by tonight.

A crew member hands you a mic.

“Can you give me a few words?” they ask.

You lift it to your mouth.

“Check… one, two.”

Your voice echoes out across the empty field.

“Again.”

You repeat it, glancing around as people adjust levels and nod to each other.

“Perfect,” someone calls out.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking out at the open grounds.

By tonight, this place will be full.

Monica leads you toward the glam trailer before stopping just outside the door.

“I’m gonna go check in with production and your team,” she says, glancing at her phone. “I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t go too far.”

You nod. “Okay.”

Malcolm Todd spots you from across the backstage area and immediately walks over.

“Hey, you,” you say, smiling as he reaches you.

The two of you pull each other into a quick hug.

“Hey,” he says, pulling back with a grin. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

You laugh softly. “Did you miss me?”

He smiles. “Definitely.”

The two of you laugh.

Then he tilts his head slightly. “Are you nervous? This is your first festival, right?”

You let out a breath and nod. “Yes, I’m so nervous I could literally throw up. I go on at sunset.”

He laughs. “Okay, well I go on before you, so you better come watch me.”

You smile. “Well yeah, of course.”

By 5:30 p.m., the festival is already in full swing.

The crowd is bigger now, people moving from stage to stage as music fills the air.

Backstage, everyone is busy getting ready for the evening sets.

You hear someone mention that Joe is about to go on.

For a second, you pause.

Then you decide to head out front to watch.

You make your way through the side entrance and walk toward the stage, blending into the crowd.

People are already gathered, waiting for him to come out.

You find a spot near the front where you can see clearly and look up at the stage.

A few seconds later, Joe walks out with his band.

The crowd immediately gets louder.

People start cheering, phones going up in the air.

You look up at the stage as he steps toward the mic.

The opening beat of End of Beginning starts to play.

The crowd loses it.

Joe smiles slightly before starting to sing.

The lights hit the stage just right as the early evening sun begins to settle over the festival.

For a second, you just stand there, watching.

The music carries through the crowd, and everyone around you is singing along.

You stand there quietly, your eyes fixed on the stage.

The crowd around you is singing every word, but you stay still.

Your hands rest around your phone as you watch him.

A small part of you can’t help but smile as the music plays.

You stay where you are, letting yourself just watch.

For once, you don’t try to think too much about it.

As “End of Beginning” comes to an end, the crowd breaks into loud cheers.

Joe steps back for a second as the band moves into the next song.

The opening beat of “Potion” starts to play.

The crowd gets louder, people singing and moving with the music.

You stay near the front, looking up at the stage.

As Joe moves across it, his eyes sweep over the crowd.

This time, when he looks your way, you lift your hand and give him a small wave.

A smile pulls at your lips.

He notices.

Still singing, he gives the slightest smile back before turning his attention to the rest of the crowd.

The music keeps going, the lights flickering across the stage as the evening sky starts to shift.

Not long after his set ends, you head back backstage and make your way to your trailer.

Your hairstylist starts working on your hair, gently sectioning it and putting in rollers for a soft blowout.

The trailer feels calm compared to the noise outside.

For a while, it’s just the quiet hum of the tools and soft voices around you.

Once your hair is done, your makeup artist steps in, keeping everything light and pretty.

Soft skin.

A little glow.

Glossy pink lips.

After that, you change into your outfit.

A black corset

And black mini ruffled shorts.

White leg warmers.

And black ballet flats .

You look at yourself in the mirror for a second.

Cute.

Then you sit back down, letting the team do a few last-minute touch ups while the sounds of the festival carry faintly from outside.

Behind you, your drummer George and guitarist John are already in the trailer, going over a few things and talking quietly.

“Setlist still the same?” John asks, looking over.

You nod. “Yeah, we’re keeping it.”

George taps lightly on his legs like he’s already warming up. “Crowd’s getting big out there.”

You let out a small breath. “Don’t tell me that.”

They both laugh.

Right then, the trailer door opens and Monica steps back in.

“You’re on in thirty.”

The room shifts slightly.

It’s almost time.

Tag list-@nosebeers, @stoneyggirl, @beth-mirrorball

[xoxies0]

22- Chicago

something-only-we-know

The alarm goes off at 3:30 a.m.

You groan softly and reach for your phone.

For a second, still half asleep, you forget where you’re going.

Then it hits you.

Chicago.

Lollapalooza.

Not long after, you’re in the backseat of the car, city lights passing by as you head to the airport.

The streets are almost empty.

Everything outside is quiet.

You rest your head against the window, still trying to wake up

By the time you get to the airport, it’s still dark outside.

You pull your suitcase behind you, walking through the nearly quiet terminal.

The lights are bright, the air cool, and everything feels a little too still for this early in the morning.

You settle into one of the seats near your gate, a coffee warming your hands.

The airport is still quiet this early, only a few people moving through the terminal.

For a second, you just sit there, staring out at the dark runway.

Then, almost absentmindedly, you unlock your phone and start scrolling.

A post from Lollapalooza catches your eye.

The official lineup.

Your thumb slows as you look over the names.

Then it stops.

Joe.

Your eyes stay fixed on the screen for a second longer than they should

You stare at the screen for a moment.

Of course he would be there.

With a quiet sigh, you lock your phone and set it face down in your lap.

A few minutes later, your boarding group is called.

You stand, grabbing your suitcase and coffee before making your way toward the gate.

Not long after, you’re settled into your seat on the plane, head resting against the window.

The lack of sleep from the night before starts to catch up with you.

Before long, your eyes slowly close.

The feeling of the plane landing wakes you.

You blink slowly, sitting up in your seat as the cabin starts to stir around you.

For a second, you forget where you are.

Then it comes back.

Chicago.

You let out a small breath and glance out the window at the gray morning light.

You grab your things and make your way off the plane with everyone else.

The airport is busier now, people moving in every direction.

You walk through the terminal, pulling your suitcase behind you, still a little out of it.

Not long after, you’re in the backseat of a car again, heading toward your hotel.

The city looks different in the daylight.

Bigger.

Busier.

You rest your head back against the seat, quiet.

Not long after, the car pulls up outside the hotel.

You grab your suitcase and make your way inside, checking in before heading up to your room.

The second you step inside, you let out a quiet breath.

It’s finally still.

You drop your suitcase by the door and sit down on the edge of the bed for a moment, letting the silence settle around you.

After a while, you get up and head to the bathroom.

The warm shower helps a little.

After your shower, you stand in the middle of the room for a moment, deciding you don’t want to stay inside all day.

You pull on a pair of black baggy sweatpants and a white tank top.

Then your black flats.

You grab your phone, your wired headphones, and your bag before heading out.

A little walk around Chicago sounds better than sitting in the hotel room with your thoughts.

The city feels alive in a different way during the day.

The music in your wired headphones plays softly as you walk through the city.

After a few blocks, the smell of coffee catches your attention.

You step into Build Coffee & Books, the warm air and quiet chatter instantly making the place feel comforting. It’s a cozy coffee shop and bookstore on the South Side of Chicago. 

Rows of books line the walls, and the smell of fresh coffee and pastries fills the room.

For the first time all day, you feel yourself relax a little.

You order an iced coffee, then wander over to the bookshelves, slowly running your fingers along the spines.

For a while, it’s just you, the music in your ears, and the quiet comfort of getting lost in the shelves.

You don’t notice the door open.

You don’t notice him walk in.

A few feet away, Joe steps inside, glancing around the cozy shop.

Then his eyes land on you.

For a second, he just stands there.

You’re still completely focused on the books in front of you.

Unaware that he’s there.

Joe keeps to himself.

He orders a coffee, gives a quiet thank you, and takes it over to a table by the win

A few shelves away, you’re still browsing through the books, completely in your own world.

Your phone suddenly buzzes in your bag.

You pull it out and glance at the screen.

manager: hey, don’t forget rehearsal tomorrow at 11. call time is 10.

Just like that, your mind shifts back.

Tomorrow.

Lollapalooza.

You slip your phone back into your bag and let out a quiet breath, turning your attention back to the shelves for just a little longer.

After a little while longer, you pick out a book and head to the counter.

Coffee in one hand, bag over your shoulder, you step back out into the city.

The walk back to the hotel is quieter now.

By the time you get to your room, you change into something comfortable and sit down on the bed.

You pull up tomorrow’s set list on your phone, reading through it one more time.

After a while, you set your phone aside and lay back.

Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

Before long, you fall asleep.

Tag list- @nosebeers, @stoneyggirl, @beth-mirrorball

[xoxies0]

21- come on y/n

something-only-we-know

You push the door open and step back into your apartment.

It’s quiet.

You slip off your shoes, dropping your bag by the door.

You walk in a little further, then pause.

After a second, you sit down on the couch.

After a second, you sit down on the couch.

You let out a small breath, resting your head back.

Your phone starts ringing.

You glance at it

Charli XCX.

You pick up.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey,” Charli says. “Get ready, we’re going out. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

You hesitate, leaning your head back again.

“I don’t know… I’m not really in a go out mood.”

“Come on,” she says. “We miss you.”

You sigh quietly.

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll see you guys there.”

“Okay,” she says, smiling through her voice before ending the call.

You sit there for a second longer.

Then you get up, walking to your bathroom.

You start on your hair, slowly doing a blowout, focusing on something for once.

Then your makeup nothing too heavy, just enough.

You head to your closet, pulling out a backless black dress.

You slip it on, then your black heels with red bottoms.

u stare at your reflection.

You almost don’t want to go.

But maybe being around people will help.

With a quiet sigh, you grab your bag and head for the door.

The car ride feels shorter than it should.

Before you know it, you’re pulling up outside the restaurant, city lights glowing around you.

You step out carefully, smoothing down your dress.

Charli XCX is already outside, waiting.

The second she sees you, her face lights up.

“There she is,” she says, pulling you into a quick hug.

You let out a small laugh.

“Hi.”

She links her arm with yours as the two of you walk inside.

The place is warm, busy, music low in the background.

A few of the others are already there.

You sit down, trying to settle into the moment.

For a second, it almost feels normal.

Then someone across the table glances at you.

“So…” they start carefully. “Have you talked to Joe?”

The question lands heavier than it should.

“Can we move on?” you say quietly. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

There’s a small pause around the table.

“I came out to have fun, so please don’t.”

The table goes quiet for a second before someone quickly changes the subject.

But the feeling still lingers.

An hour passes.

The drinks keep coming, and by now the room feels softer around the edges.

Your laugh comes easier now, your words a little slower.

You’re drunk enough to stop thinking so hard.

For the first time all day, you’re not paying attention to anything but the people around you.

The music, the voices, the glasses clinking against the table.

You don’t notice the door opening.

You don’t notice the group walking in.

And you definitely don’t notice that Joe is there

a few tables away with his friends.

Completely unaware that you’re in the same room.

A little while later, the table gets louder again.

One of your friends leans over, grinning.

“You have to do karaoke.”

A few others immediately agree.

“Yes—go!”

You laugh, already a little tipsy, and shake your head.

But then you shrug.

“Okay… fine.”

A chorus of cheers goes up around the table.

You stand, smoothing down your dress as you make your way up to the small stage.

The mic feels cool in your hand.

Then the first beat starts.

Thinking of You by Katy Perry.

For a second, everything around you fades.

And then you start to sing.

A few tables away, Joe is mid-conversation when one of his friends glances toward the stage.

“Isn’t that Y/N?” they ask.

Joe looks up.

His eyes land on the stage.

It’s you.

Mic in hand, a little tipsy, your friends cheering from the table.

You actually look like you’re having fun.

The song comes to an end, and the room fills with cheers and claps from your table.

You let out a small laugh, lowering the mic as you smile.

A little tipsy, a little lighter than before.

You step down from the stage, making your way back to your friends.

A few tables away, Joe looks away and turns back toward the conversation, but his mind isn’t really in it anymore. After a while, you push your chair back slightly.

“I’ll be right back,” you mumble to your friends.

You make your way through the crowd, heading toward the hallway.

At the same time, Joe steps out from around the corner—

and nearly walks right into you

Joe looks at you, quieter now.

“About the call earlier…”

You look up at him.

“It’s fine,” you say softly.

He shakes his head a little.

“No, it’s not.”

There’s a pause.

“I shouldn’t have hung up.”

You let out a small breath.

“It’s okay,” you say quietly. “You don’t have to talk to me or do anything.”

Your voice stays calm, even if it stings a little.

“It’s your choice. I’m not going to make you talk to me.”

Joe’s expression shifts slightly.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says quietly.

There’s a pause before he looks away for a second.

“I’m still trying to figure everything out.”

You nod slowly.

“Okay,” you say softly.

Neither of you says anything else.

After a second, you turn and walk back toward your table.

Your friends look up the second they see you.

You grab your purse from the chair.

“I’m leaving,” you say quietly.

You walk out of the club, the music fading behind you.

The tears start to fall, but you quickly wipe them away with the back of your hand.

You keep walking, heels clicking softly against the pavement as you make your way back to your apartment.

By the time you get to your apartment, you unlock the door and head straight to your room.

You lay down on your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Your phone starts ringing.

You glance at the screen and answer.

“Hey,” your manager says. “By the way, you’re flying out to Chicago tomorrow morning for Lollapalooza. You’re headlining, so make sure you get some sleep.”

You let out a quiet sigh.

“Okay,” you murmur.

The call ends.

You set your phone down beside you and lay back against the pillows.

Not long after, exhaustion pulls you under and you fall asleep.

Tag list- @nosebeers, @stoneyggirl, @beth-mirrorball

[xoxies0]

20-Delete ya

Joe perspective

something-only-we-know

The line went dead before she could respond.

Joe sat on the edge of the hotel bed, phone still warm in his hand, his chest tight.

The room felt too quiet, too empty.

He pushed himself up, ran a hand through his hair, and decided a walk might help.

Pulling on his coat, he stepped out into the city air, letting the noise of the streets wash over him.

His thoughts, of course, were still on her.

He made his way to a nearby coffee shop, meeting Charlie Heaton there. Maybe talking to a friend would distract him at least for a little while.

Joe steps into the coffee shop, the warm air and rich aroma hitting him.

He grabs his usual, glancing around for a table.

Charlie Heaton slides into the seat across from him, a small smile on his face.

“Hey, man. How are you?” Charlie asks, casual but concerned, noticing the tension in Joe’s shoulders.

Joe exhales slowly, trying to settle himself.

“Hey… I’m okay,” he says, voice low, though he’s not entirely sure it’s true.

Charlie nods, studying him for a moment, sensing there’s more beneath the surface.

Charlie watches him for a second, then leans back slightly.

“So… what’s going on?” he asks.

Joe lets out a quiet breath, staring down at his coffee.

“It’s… Y/N,” he says after a moment.

Charlie nods slowly, like he expected that.

Joe runs a hand through his hair.

“It’s been like three days,” he adds. “We had a conversation… it didn’t go well.”

He pauses, jaw tightening.

“I told her I was done.”

Charlie’s expression shifts slightly.

Joe exhales, shaking his head.

He looks down, quieter now.

“I just I want her to talk to me,” he admits. “But she didn’t. She just stayed quiet.”

His grip tightens slightly around his cup.

“I want a girlfriend who will actually talk to me.”

Charlie watches him for a second, then shakes his head slightly.

“So you said you were done… and expected her to fight for it?” he says.

Joe doesn’t respond right away.

Charlie leans back a little, softer now.

“Maybe she didn’t know what to say,” he adds. “Not everyone reacts like that.”

Joe stays quiet, the words settling in.

“She called me though,” he says, almost to himself.

Charlie looks at him for a second, then shrugs slightly.

“Yeah,” he says. “And you hung up.”

There’s a small pause.

“You’re both not handling this right,” he adds, more calmly.

Joe doesn’t say anything.

He just sits there, staring at his coffee.

Maybe he shouldn’t have hung up.

Tag list- @nosebeers, @stoneyggirl, @beth-mirrorball

[xoxies0]

20- shopping

something-only-we

You wake up, the light already too bright.

You reach for your phone, squinting at the screen.

1:30 p.m.

You sigh quietly, unlocking it.

Your eyes scan for a second.

Nothing.

You stare at it a little longer… then lock it again.

You push yourself up, walking slowly to the kitchen.

Everything feels quiet.

You start making your coffee, movements automatic.

Pouring, waiting, staring.

Your mind drifts somewhere else.

You don’t even realize you’ve been standing there, just… spacing out.

You take a small sip of your coffee, letting out a quiet breath.

“Okay…” you mumble to yourself.

A second passes.

Then you set the cup down.

You walk back to your bathroom, turning on the light.

You start doing your hair, slowly working through a blowout, focused on something for once.

Then light makeup nothing too much.

Just enough.

You head to your closet, pulling on a pair of jeans and a white shirt.

Your black flats.

You grab your Chanel bag, slipping it over your shoulder.

You put on your wired headphones, pulling your phone out and hitting shuffle.

A song starts playing

“I’ll Come Back For You” by Malcolm Todd.

You pause for a second.

Then you step out of your apartment.

You walk without really thinking, the music filling your ears, drowning everything else out.

“I’ll Come Back For You” plays softly, blending into the noise of the city.

People pass by, but you barely notice.

Your mind is somewhere else.

Before you even realize it, you’re pushing open the door to H&M.

You step inside, the change in air pulling you out of your thoughts just a little.

Rows of clothes surround you.

You start walking through them, your fingers brushing over fabrics without really looking.

Picking things up.

Putting them back.

Not thinking.

Just moving.

You walk through the store, picking things up, putting them back.

Nothing really catches your eye.

Nothing feels right.

After a while, you just stop.

You look around for a second… then let out a small breath.

You don’t find anything cute.

So you turn and walk out of H&M, the music still playing in your ears.

You step back outside, the air hitting you softly.

You keep walking, not really sure where you’re going.

Just moving.

After a while, you find a bench and sit down, letting out a quiet breath.

You reach into your bag, pulling out a cigarette, lighting it.

You take a slow drag, exhaling as you stare ahead.

The music still plays in your ears.

People pass by, but you don’t really notice.

You just sit there, smoke drifting into the air, your mind somewhere else.

You stare ahead, jaw tightening slightly.

“Fuck this,” you mutter under your breath.

You pull your phone out, scrolling to his name.

Before you can think about it too much—

You press call.

You bring the phone to your ear, your heart starting to race as it rings.

You bring the phone to your ear, your heart starting to race as it rings.

Once.

Twice.

Then

“Hello?”

His voice.

You freeze for a second, not expecting him to actually pick up.

There’s a small pause.

“…Hey,” you say, quieter than you meant to.

On the other end, he exhales softly.

“Hey.”

There’s a small silence.

“I’m surprised no one’s said anything about this online,” you add, your voice a little distant.

There’s a pause on the other end.

“They probably have,” he says slowly. “You just haven’t looked yet.”

You swallow slightly.

“I’m sorry for calling you,” you say, your voice softer now.

A small pause.

“It’s okay,” he says quietly.

Hey… I gotta go,” he adds after a moment.

Before you can respond, the line goes dead.

You let out a long, quiet sigh.

Slowly, you stand, letting the cigarette go out between your fingers.

The smoke drifts away as you walk back toward your apartment, each step heavy and quiet.

Tag list- @nosebeers, @stoneyggirl, @beth-mirrorball

[xoxies0]

19- what now

something-only-we

You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep.

When you wake up, it’s quiet.

Too quiet.

Your eyes open slowly as you shift on the couch, your head heavy.

For a second, you just stare ahead.

Then it all comes back.

You sit up, rubbing your face, letting out a small breath.

Your phone sits on the table in front of you.

You look at it.

Just for a second.

Then you reach for it, unlocking the screen.

Your eyes scan it quickly.

Nothing from Joe.

You stare at it a little longer than you should.

Then you lock it again, setting it back down.

Like it doesn’t matter.

But it does.

You sit there for a moment longer, your phone still in your hand.

A knock breaks the silence.

You look up.

Another knock.

Slowly, you stand and walk to the door, your chest tightening.

You open it

Tucker.

The second you see him, everything hits all over again.

You don’t say anything.

You just start crying.

He doesn’t hesitate, pulling you into a hug as you bury your face into him.

You pull away slightly, wiping your eyes.

“Come on,” you mumble, stepping back inside.

Tucker follows you in, closing the door behind him.

You sit down on the couch, letting out a small breath.

“How did you find out?” you ask.

Tucker lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Paparazzi photos.”

You shake your head, looking down.

“I can’t even get broken up without paparazzi being there.”

You swallow, your voice quieter now.

“He said he’s done.”

You let out a small breath, your hands fidgeting in your lap.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you add, shaking your head again. “I just sat there.”

Your voice drops.

“And he just… got up and left.”

You let out a frustrated breath, running a hand over your face.

“I’m so stupid,” you mutter. “Like actually, it’s my fault we broke up because I can’t even talk like a fucking adult.”

Tucker looks at you for a second before speaking.

“Did you even want it to end?”

You don’t hesitate.

“Of course not,” you say quickly, your voice breaking a little. “I love him.”

Tucker looks at you, his expression serious.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

You look down, shaking your head a little.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I just… I don’t know.”

Tucker looks at you for a second, then shakes his head slightly.

“Okay… but that doesn’t mean it’s over.”

You don’t respond right away, your eyes still fixed on your hands.

“It doesn’t just end like that,” he adds, quieter now.

You let out a small breath, shaking your head.

“He said he’s done,” you say quietly. “People don’t just say that for no reason.”

Tucker exhales, leaning back slightly.

“People say things when they’re upset,” he says. “That doesn’t mean they actually want it to be over.”

Tucker sighs, standing up slowly.

“I’m gonna go,” he says quietly. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

You nod a little, not really looking at him.

He hesitates for a second… then heads for the door.

The apartment feels quiet again the second he leaves.

Tag list- @nosebeers, @stoneyggirl, @beth-mirrorball

[xoxies0]

18 - did we break up

something-only-we-know

The morning after, you wake up staring at the ceiling.

You sit up slowly, letting out a quiet sigh before getting out of bed.

You walk into the bathroom, brushing through your hair, then rubbing lotion into your face. No makeup.

Just simple.

You head to your closet, pulling on some clothes and slipping into your ballet flats.

Grabbing your bag, you walk out of your apartment

You step outside, the morning air hitting you softly as you start walking with no real destination.

The city moves around you, people passing by, cars going, everything already in motion.

You don’t pay much attention.

You reach into your bag, pulling out your headphones and slipping them on.

After a second, music fills your ears—“A Couple Minutes” by Olivia Dean.

You let it play, focusing on that instead of anything else.

And you just keep walking.

Your phone buzzes in your hand.

You glance down.

Joe.

Meet me at the coffee shop.

You stare at the message for a second, your expression unreadable.

You don’t reply.

You just turn, changing direction without thinking too much about it.

A few minutes later, you push open the door to the coffee shop.

The smell of coffee hits you as you walk in, scanning the room.

You spot him.

Joe.

You let out a small sigh before walking over.

He looks up as you approach.

You don’t say anything.

You just sit down across from him.

He looks up when you sit down.

“Hey.”

There’s a small pause as he shifts in his seat.

“You want something to drink?”

You shake your head slightly.

“No, I’m okay,” you say softly.

Joe nods, glancing down for a second before letting out a quiet sigh.

“I need someone who can communicate with me,” he says, looking back up at you. “Not just say ‘I’m tired’ in the middle of a conversation.”

His voice isn’t loud, but it’s firm.

“Y/N… I need you to talk to me.”

You don’t.

You just sit there, eyes dropping to the table, fingers lightly tracing the edge of your cup.

The silence stretches.

Joe watches you, waiting… but you don’t fill it.

And somehow, that says everything.

After a long pause, he stands abruptly.

“I’m done, Y/N.”

Without another word, he walks toward the door.

The door closes behind him with a soft click, leaving you alone in the quiet coffee shop.

Outside the coffee shop, a camera shutter clicks.

A hidden paparazzi captures the moment—your hand pressed to your face, trying to hide it, but they still catch your expression.

Another shot clicks as Joe walks away, his back turned to the lens, leaving the frame.

The photos are taken in silence, frozen—two people in a private, messy moment now captured for anyone to see.

You sit there for a second longer, the silence pressing in around you.

Then you grab your bag, pushing your chair back a little too quickly.

You don’t look around.

You just head straight for the door.

The bell rings softly as you push it open and step outside.

The air feels different.

You start walking, faster than before, like if you keep moving you won’t have to think about any of it.

But it’s already there.

You make it back to your apartment, barely remembering the walk.

The second the door closes behind you, everything hits.

You drop your bag, your breathing uneven as it all catches up.

Tears spill over before you can stop them.

You walk over to the couch and just… collapse onto it, crying, your face buried in your hands.

There’s no holding it in anymore.

You just let it happen.

Tag list- @nosebeers, @stoneyggirl2 , @beth-mirrorball

[xoxies0]

17- Okay

something-only-we-know

A soft knock echoes through the apartment.

You blink, sitting up slowly, disoriented, the red numbers on your clock glowing

3:20 AM.

Another knock.

You frown, rubbing your eyes, debating whether to get up.

Then your phone starts ringing.

Joe.

You stare at his name for half a second before answering.

“What?” you say, your voice rough with sleep.

“Open the door.”

Your brows knit together. “What”

The line goes dead.

You pull the phone away, staring at the screen for a second.

Then you swing your legs off the bed and stand up, your heart starting to beat a little faster.

The apartment is quiet as you walk down the hallway, each step feeling heavier than the last.

You reach the door.

Pause.

Then slowly, you open it.

And there he is.

Joe.

You let out a quiet sigh

“Come in.”

Joe stands there for a second, running a hand through his hair, like he’s trying to figure out where to start.

“Sorry I didn’t call you right away,” he says, his voice quieter now.

You let out a small, almost disbelieving breath, crossing your arms tighter.

“That’s what you’re going with?” you reply.

He hesitates, glancing down for a second before looking back at you.

“I didn’t think it was gonna turn into all of this,” he adds.

You shake your head slightly, the frustration still sitting heavy.

“It’s not just that, Joe,” you say. “You didn’t tell me at all.”

The tension hangs between you again, thick and unresolved.

He exhales, running a hand through his hair, clearly getting irritated now.

“I didn’t think I had to tell you everything I do,” he says.

You stare at him for a second, thrown off.

“Everything?” you repeat. “Joe, I’m not asking for everything. I’m asking for basic respect.”

His jaw tightens slightly, eyes flicking away before landing back on you.

“It was last minute,” he says. “I didn’t think it would turn into… this.”

You let out a quiet, frustrated breath, shaking your head.

“You should’ve known how the internet is,” you say. “You’re not new to this.”

The words hang in the air, tension thick between you, neither of you backing down.

Joe’s expression hardens slightly, something defensive settling in.

“So what, I’m supposed to run everything by you now?” he shoots back.

You blink at him, caught off guard.

“No,” you say, your voice sharper now. “But this isn’t just ‘everything,’ Joe. This is something you knew people would see.”

He lets out a breath, shaking his head.

“I didn’t think it mattered that much,” he says. “It was just a concert.”

“Just a concert?” you repeat, disbelief creeping into your voice. “You really think that’s what this is about?”

The tension spikes again, heavier, louder, neither of you backing down now.

Just a concert?” you repeat, disbelief creeping into your voice. “You really think that’s what this is about?”

Joe exhales sharply, frustration showing now. “Then what is it about, Y/N? Because you’re acting like I did something way worse than I actually did.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “Oh my god, you don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me,” he snaps back.

“I shouldn’t have to!” you shoot back. “It’s basic, Joe. It’s called respect!”

“I do respect you,” he says, his voice raising. “But I’m not going to be made out to be the bad guy over something this stupid.”

Your eyes widen slightly at that.

“Stupid?” you repeat. “You think this is stupid?”

“I think you’re blowing it up,” he says, running a hand through his hair again. “It was one night.”

“And we almost broke up last night!” you fire back. “So yeah, it matters!”

You take a step back, shaking your head, frustration boiling over.

“Why did you even come here, Joe,” you say, your voice tight, “if you knew this would just keep going?”

The words hang in the air, heavier than anything else you’ve said.

Joe goes quiet.

“I came here to talk,” he says, his tone edged, “but clearly you don’t want that.”

You stare at him, thrown off.

“What makes you say that?” you ask, your voice sharper now.

He lets out a breath, shaking his head slightly.

“Because no matter what I say, you’ve already made up your mind,” he says. “You’re not even trying to listen.”

The room falls quiet again, the tension thick, neither of you willing to give in.

Then you let out a small, tired breath, shaking your head.

“Forget it,” you say, your voice quieter now. “It doesn’t even matter anymore.”

Joe frowns slightly, caught off guard by the shift.

“What?” he says.

You look away, crossing your arms tighter.

“I’m just tired,” you add, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t even want to do this right now.”

The words land heavier than anything you’ve said before.

Joe watches you for a second, something shifting in his expression.

Then he exhales, taking a small step back.

“Fine,” he says quietly. “If that’s what you want.”

There’s a pause.

He shakes his head slightly, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t even know why I came here,” he adds, frustration slipping through. “If you were just gonna act like this.”

Your jaw tightens at that, the distance between you suddenly feeling a lot bigger.

Before you can say anything, he turns.

Walks to the door.

Opens it.

And leaves.

The door slams shut behind him, the sound echoing through the apartment.

Silence fills the space.

You stand there for a moment, staring at the door, your chest rising and falling unevenly.

A tear slips down your cheek.

You wipe it away quickly.

Turning away, you walk back to your room, the apartment feeling colder now.

You drop onto your bed, too tired to think, too tired to feel.

Within minutes, your eyes close.

And you fall asleep.

Tag list- @nosebeers , @stoneyggirl2

[xoxies0]

16-am I overacting?

something-only-we-know

Ask if you want to be in the tag list

You walk back into the living room and glance down at your phone.

Missed call. Joe.

Your jaw tightens.

Of course he calls when you step away for two seconds.

Without even thinking, you tap his name and press call.

The line rings once.

Then he answers.

“Hey”

“You could’ve told me,” you cut in, your voice tight. “I didn’t need to find out through the internet.”

There’s a pause on the other end.

“Y/N…” he starts.

You pace a little across the living room, gripping the phone.

“I mean seriously, Joe. A fan video? That’s how I find out you went to the concert?”

Another pause.

“I didn’t think it would turn into a whole thing,” he says.

You let out a frustrated laugh.

“Well it did.”

The silence between you stretches, heavy with everything from last night that still hasn’t been said.

Joe exhales quietly on the other end of the phone.

“Y/N… can we not do this over the phone?” he says.

You stop pacing, tightening your grip on the phone.

“Why not?” you ask.

“Because this isn’t something I want to argue about like this,” he replies. “I’d rather talk to you in person.”

You let out a short laugh. “In person? Joe, you’re in LA.”

Another pause.

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t get to you.”

You frown slightly, unsure what he means.

“Joe… what are you talking about?”

He sighs softly. “Just—can you give me a little time? I promise I’ll explain everything.”

You glance around the quiet apartment, still unsure if you should be annoyed or curious.

“Fine,” you mutter. “But you better have a really good explanation.”

“I will,” he says.

The line goes quiet again, the tension still lingering between you.

The call ends, leaving the apartment quiet again.

You stare at your phone for a moment before setting it down on the coffee table.

“Unbelievable,” you mutter under your breath.

Shaking your head, you walk to your bedroom.

A few minutes later, you change into a pair of pants, a white tank top, and a red cardigan. You slip on your black ballet flats, grab your bag from the chair by the door, and glance around the apartment one more time.

If Joe wants to talk in person, fine.

But you’re not going to sit around waiting all day.

You sling your bag over your shoulder, unlock the door, and step out of the apartment.

The hallway is quiet as you close the door behind you and start down toward the elevator.

A few blocks later, you stop in front of a small corner gas station.

The bright lights from inside spill onto the sidewalk, taxis and cars rushing past in the street.

You push the door open, the bell above it chiming softly.

The cool air inside hits your face as you walk toward the aisles.

After a minute, you grab a pack of cigarettes, a drink from the fridge, and a bag of chips.

You place everything on the counter while the cashier rings it up.

“Have a good one,” he says as he hands you the bag.

You nod absentmindedly, grabbing your things and stepping back outside into the noise of New York City.

For a moment you just stand there on the sidewalk, watching people hurry past.

Then you spot an empty bench a little farther down the block.

You walk over and sit down, setting your bag beside you.

You pull the pack of cigarettes out, tapping one free and lighting it.

The smoke curls into the air as the city moves around you—cars honking, voices overlapping, the constant rush of the street.

You take a slow drag, staring out at the traffic, your mind still stuck on the call with Joe.

He wants to talk in person.

Fine.

You just didn’t expect everything to feel this complicated.

You sit on the bench, the cigarette between your fingers as the noise of New York City moves around you.

Your phone stays tucked away in your bag, set to Do Not Disturb.

You didn’t want to deal with calls.

You didn’t want to see any messages.

You take a slow drag, watching the smoke drift into the air while people rush past on the sidewalk.

Your mind keeps circling back to Joe.

The concert.

The videos online.

The way everything blew up so fast.

You exhale quietly, leaning back against the bench.

“Maybe I’m overreacting,” you mutter under your breath.

Maybe he really didn’t think it would be a big deal.

Maybe the internet just made it feel worse than it actually is.

Still… you wish he had just told you.

You grab your bag and stand up from the bench.

“Whatever,” you mutter under your breath.

Maybe you are overreacting.

Maybe you’re not.

You start walking back down the block, blending into the crowd, your mind still tangled in everything

By the time you reach your building, you’re already pulling your keys out of your bag

You slip off your shoes by the door, barely bothering to place them neatly.

The apartment feels still. Too still.

You walk straight to your room, not even turning on the lights.

The moment you reach your bed, you drop onto it, face up, staring at the ceiling.

A long sigh leaves your lips.

Tag list- @nosebeers

[xoxies0]

15- your ridiculous

something-only-we-know

The sunlight spills through your curtains, warm but harsh.

You groan, stretching as you blink at the clock.

2:30 PM.

Your phone lies dead on the nightstand.

You frown, picking it up and plugging it in. The screen lights up slowly, battery icon crawling up.

You set it down for a moment, letting out a long sigh.

There’s no missed call from Joe, no messages, nothing.

Shaking your head, you push yourself out of bed.

“I guess I can’t wait around forever,” you mutter to yourself.

You head to the bathroom, letting the warm water from the shower wash away the exhaustion from last night.

While the phone charges, you let yourself wake fully, the sound of water and the quiet of the apartment filling the room.

You step out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a soft towel, steam curling around you.

Your phone finishes charging, the screen now glowing with a full battery.

You pick it up, hoping—maybe even expecting—to see a missed call from Joe.

But there’s nothing. No notifications, no messages, no calls.

Your chest tightens slightly, a pit forming in your stomach.

He still hasn’t called.

You set the phone down on the counter with a small sigh, running a hand through your damp hair.

For a moment, you just stand there, letting the quiet of the apartment press in.

“I guess… I’ll just have to wait,” you murmur to yourself.

Even as you get dressed and pull on a comfortable outfit for the day, the absence of his voice lingers, a quiet reminder of last night and the tension still hanging between you.

You grab your phone and scroll through your contacts, tapping Tucker’s name.

After a few rings, his familiar face appears.

“Y/N! Finally! You look like you survived a tornado or something,” Tucker says, smirking.

You flop onto the couch, holding the phone up. “Almost. Fashion show, after-party… and Joe still hasn’t called. Again.”

Tucker raises an eyebrow. “Let me guess… viral fan video, Instagram chaos, global panic?”

You groan. “Exactly. Everyone thinks we’re broken up, and he’s in LA at a concert.”

You pause, shaking your head.

“And you know the funniest part? He didn’t even tell me he was going to the Short n’ Sweet Tour to see Sabrina Carpenter.”

Tucker’s eyes widen slightly.

“Wait… seriously?”

“Seriously,” you say, leaning back against the couch. “I had to find out from a fan video like everyone else.”

Tucker lets out a small laugh. “Okay… yeah, that’s bad timing.”

“Right?” you say. “Like I’m having one of the biggest nights of my life and he’s getting ‘arrested for being too hot’ at a concert.”

Tucker chuckles. “Classic chaos.”

You shake your head, smiling a little despite yourself.

“Messy, dramatic, frustrating… but somehow funny.”

Tucker nods. “Alright, breathe. You survived last night, you’ll survive today. And Joe? He’ll call.”

You glance at your phone for a second before looking back at the screen.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “Eventually.”

After a while, you and Tucker finally end the FaceTime.

“Text me if he calls,” Tucker says before the screen goes black.

You toss your phone onto the couch and stand up, stretching your arms above your head.

For the first time all day, the apartment is quiet again.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes on the couch.

When you pick it up, a notification lights the screen.

Joe just posted on Instagram.

You stare at it for a second before tapping it open.

It’s a photo from the Short n’ Sweet Tour in Los Angeles.

The comments are already flooding in.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Did they break up?”

“Wasn’t she at a fashion show last night?”

Your stomach twists a little as you lock your phone.

“Unbelievable,” you mutter under your breath.

You set the phone down on the kitchen counter and walk away for a moment, grabbing a glass of water.

Behind you, the phone suddenly lights up again.

Your screen flashes with an incoming call.

Joe.

But you’re in the other room.

The phone rings.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then the screen goes dark again.

You never see it.

Tag list- @nosebeers

[xoxies0]

14- I guess

something-only-we-know

You set the phone down slowly.

For a moment, the apartment stays quiet.

You take a small breath before turning and walking toward your bedroom.

Inside, you head straight to your closet, sliding the door open.

After a second, your eyes land on the dress you’re looking for.

A black Chanel dress.

You pull it off the hanger and slip it on, the fabric fitting perfectly.

Next, you grab a pair of black heels and step into them, adjusting the strap before walking over to the mirror.

Sitting down at your vanity, you begin working on your hair, giving yourself a quick blowout until it falls smoothly over your shoulders.

Then you reach for your makeup, carefully applying it while the soft light from the room reflects in the mirror.

When you finish, you take a step back and look at yourself.

Ready for the after party.

You take one last look in the mirror before grabbing your bag.

The apartment is quiet as you walk toward the door, slipping your phone into your hand.

A notification pops up.

Your Uber has arrived.

You slip on your coat and head out, locking the door behind you.

Down on the street, the city is alive—cars passing, people walking along the sidewalk, lights glowing from the buildings around you.

A black car waits at the curb.

You walk over and open the back door, sliding into the seat.

“After party?” the driver asks, glancing at you through the mirror.

You nod. “Yeah.”

The car pulls away from the curb, merging into the traffic as the city lights blur past the window.

The Uber slows as it pulls up in front of the venue.

Music is already thumping from inside while groups of people stand outside talking and laughing.

You step out of the car, smoothing down your black Chanel dress.

Lights from the building glow across the street while cars continue pulling up, dropping off more people from the show.

Near the entrance, a few photographers stand waiting, cameras ready.

You walk toward the door, heels clicking against the pavement.

The door opens and the music gets louder instantly.

Inside, the room is packed.

People from the show fill the space—models, designers, stylists, everyone celebrating the night.

Music plays while people dance and talk over the noise.

You step further inside, looking around the room as the party continues around you.

You step further into the room, the music loud as people talk and laugh around you.

Before you can even take a few steps, someone walks over.

“Hey,” they say with a smile.

“You were amazing out there tonight.”

You smile politely. “Thank you.”

Another person nearby nods in agreement.

“Seriously, opening the show like that? You killed it.”

You let out a small laugh, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Thanks,” you say again

Across the country that same night in Los Angeles, a huge crowd fills the arena.

Music blasts through the speakers as lights flash across the stage.

The audience screams while Sabrina Carpenter runs across the stage during her Short n’ Sweet Tour.

Joe stands in the crowd, watching the performance.

After the song ends, Sabrina walks toward the front of the stage, scanning the audience.

“Hold on,” she says into the microphone.

She points toward someone in the crowd.

“You—right there.”

Joe looks around, confused.

People near him start pointing at him and laughing.

Sabrina smiles.

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“Joe,” he calls back.

She raises her eyebrows slightly.

“Joe?” she repeats into the mic.

The crowd cheers.

“Well, Joe,” she says with a grin, “I’m sorry to tell you this…”

She pauses dramatically.

“You’re under arrest… for being way too hot.”

The crowd erupts into laughter and cheers while Joe shakes his head, smiling as the people around him clap.

The music pulses through the after-party as you chat with a few people from the show, laughing and sipping your drink.

Someone nudges you, holding up their phone.

“You’ve got to see this,” they say, grinning.

Curious, you take the phone, and your eyes widen.

It’s a video from earlier tonight at the Short n’ Sweet Tour in Los Angeles.

Joe is standing in the crowd, looking slightly confused, as Sabrina Carpenter points at him.

“Sir,” she says dramatically into the microphone, “you’re under arrest… for being way too hot.”

The crowd in the video cheers and laughs, and Joe shakes his head, laughing along.

You blink, trying not to laugh out loud as the people around you start reacting, some taking out their phones to record your reaction.

Someone whispers, “This is going viral already.”

You glance around the room, noticing a few phones pointed at you as if they’re filming you watching the clip.

Your cheeks warm a little.

“Wow,” you murmur. “Okay… that’s Joe for you.”

The music keeps playing, the party keeps going, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that this video is only going to get bigger online.

Meanwhile, across the city in Los Angeles, Joe steps out of the arena after Short n’ Sweet Tour.

He’s laughing with a few friends about the “arrested for being too hot” bit when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

He pulls it out and freezes.

The screen is full of notifications—Instagram alerts, messages, and comments flooding in.

One post in particular catches his eye: a fan video of him at the concert, with the caption:

“Wait… are they even together? Y/N’s killing it at the fashion show tonight and Joe’s out at the Sabrina Carpenter concert. Someone explain.”

Joe scrolls through the comments. Fans are speculating, tagging friends, asking if they’re broken up, and comparing timelines.

He exhales, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah… this is going to be a thing,” he mutters, a small laugh escaping, though there’s a pinch of guilt in his chest.

For the first time that night, he glances at his phone and thinks about Y/N—alone at her after-party, probably seeing all of this.

He stuffs the phone back in his pocket.

“Guess I’ll call her later,” he says quietly, stepping into the night as the Los Angeles lights blur around him.

You pick up your phone again, thumb hovering over his name.

Part of you wants to call him—ask him about the video, the caption, everything.

But another part of you hesitates.

He didn’t answer earlier, and maybe… just maybe, he’ll call when he’s ready.

You set your phone back down on the table, taking a deep breath.

The music thumps through the room, people laughing and dancing around you.

You force a small smile, lifting your drink.

“Okay,” you murmur to yourself. “I’ll wait for him to call.”

For now, the night goes on, and you let the party pull you in, even if your mind is still half with Joe—somewhere out there in Los Angeles.

By the time you slip out of the after-party, the city is quiet.

The streets are nearly empty, and your heels click against the pavement as you make your way to the car.

You reach your apartment and step inside, dropping your bag by the door.

It’s 3:30 AM, and the apartment is silent.

You pick up your phone one last time, scrolling through messages and notifications.

Joe still hasn’t called.

You set it down with a sigh, sliding into bed.

For tonight, that’s all you can do—wait.

The city hums softly outside your window, but inside, the silence feels heavier than ever.

[xoxies0]

13-fashion show

something-only-we-know.

Morning light spills through the windows of your bedroom.

You wake slowly, still wrapped in the blankets for a moment before remembering what day it is.

Fashion show day.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand.

You reach over, rubbing your eyes as you pick it up.

A message from Madelyn Cline.

“ARE YOU AWAKE?? Today’s the day.”

Before you can even reply, another notification pops up.

Charli XCX:

“If you’re still in bed I’m coming over and dragging you out.”

You smile to yourself, sitting up and pushing your hair back.

Your apartment is quiet, the city outside just starting to wake up.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand, stretching.

Your phone buzzes again.

A call this time.

Joe.

You stare at the screen for a second before answering.

“Good morning,” you say, your voice still a little sleepy.

On the other end, Joe chuckles softly.

“Morning. Big day today.”

You walk toward the window, pulling the curtain open as sunlight fills the room.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, looking out at the city.

“Fashion show day.”

Joe is quiet for a moment on the other end of the phone.

“You nervous?” he asks.

You lean your shoulder against the window frame, looking out at the city below.

“A little,” you admit.

He lets out a soft laugh. “You’re going to be fine.”

You glance back toward your room, still waking up.

“Hopefully.”

You step away from the window.

“Okay, I should probably start getting ready.”

“Yeah,” Joe says. “Go have your big day.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” you say.

“Later.”

The call ends and the apartment falls quiet again.

You walk into the bathroom, grabbing your brush and slowly brushing through your hair.

A few minutes later you brush your teeth, staring at your reflection while you wake up.

When you’re done, you head into your closet and pull on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.

Tying your hair up loosely, you step back into the apartment, the morning sunlight still spilling through the windows.

A little while later, you grab your bag and phone before heading toward the door.

You take one last look around your apartment, making sure you didn’t forget anything.

Your phone buzzes with a notification.

Your Uber has arrived.

You slip on your shoes and step outside, locking the door behind you.

Down on the street, a black car is waiting by the curb.

You walk over and open the back door, sliding into the seat.

“Fashion District?” the driver asks, glancing at you in the mirror.

“Yeah,” you reply.

The car pulls away from the curb, merging into the morning traffic as the city moves around you.

You glance out the window, watching the buildings pass by.

The Uber pulls up outside the venue and comes to a stop.

You thank the driver before opening the door and stepping out onto the sidewalk.

People are already moving quickly in and out of the building—assistants carrying garment bags, racks of clothes being rolled through the entrance, stylists talking into headsets.

You walk inside and the noise hits you immediately.

Backstage is busy.

Models sit in rows of chairs while makeup artists move quickly around them, brushes and palettes spread across the tables. Stylists rush past holding outfits, checking lists and adjusting small details on the clothes.

Someone calls out a name from across the room.

Another person runs by with a pair of heels in their hand.

You find an open chair and sit down as a makeup artist and hair stylist quickly move over to you and get to work.

You reach into your bag, pulling out your headphones and putting them on, letting the music play while they start getting you ready.

You sit quietly while the makeup artist finishes the last touches, the soft sound of your music playing through your headphones.

A few minutes later, someone taps your shoulder.

You look up and pull one side of your headphones off.

A stylist is standing in front of you, holding a garment bag.

“Alright,” they say. “It’s time.”

You stand up as they unzip the bag, revealing the outfit you’ll be wearing.

They carefully hand it to you.

“You’re opening the show,” the stylist adds.

Around you, people keep moving quickly—models getting dressed, stylists adjusting clothes, assistants rushing past with heels and accessories.

The stylist finishes adjusting the outfit, smoothing the fabric one last time.

You take a careful step forward in the heels, getting used to the height while people continue rushing around backstage.

From somewhere beyond the curtain, you can hear the crowd.

Voices, cameras clicking, people talking as they take their seats.

Music starts faintly from the runway speakers.

Someone nearby calls out, “Two minutes!”

The energy backstage shifts instantly.

Models begin lining up near the entrance to the runway while assistants make last-minute adjustments to outfits and hair.

You stand near the front, the bright lights from the runway spilling through the gap in the curtain.

The show is about to start.

The music from the runway grows louder.

Someone near the entrance pulls the curtain back slightly, letting the bright white lights spill into the backstage area.

“Opening model,” a voice calls.

Your heart starts beating a little faster.

A stylist quickly smooths the fabric of your outfit one last time and adjusts the strap on your shoulder.

“Ready,” they say.

You take a slow breath, standing at the front of the line.

On the other side of the curtain, the crowd quiets as the music changes.

The show is starting.

The cue comes.

You step forward.

The lights hit you instantly as you walk onto the runway.

Cameras flash from the crowd while the music echoes through the room.

You keep your expression calm and focused, walking straight down the runway in the tall heels.

Rows of people sit on both sides, watching every step.

At the end of the runway, you pause for a second, turning smoothly before walking back.

The flashes keep going.

The show has officially begun.

About an hour later, the show finally comes to an end.

The music fades as the last model walks the runway and the crowd begins clapping.

Backstage, the energy shifts instantly.

People start cheering, hugging, and talking all at once while stylists rush around packing up clothes and shoes.

You slip your heels off for a second, letting out a small breath after the long walk.

“Great job,” someone says as they pass by.

Models start changing out of their outfits while assistants begin clearing racks and packing garment bags.

Someone calls out from across the room, “Don’t forget the after party!”

A few people laugh as they grab their phones and bags.

A little while later, you leave the venue and head back to your apartment to change.

Once inside, you drop your bag by the door and slip off your shoes.

The apartment is quiet.

You reach for your phone and scroll until you find Joe’s name, pressing call.

The phone rings.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

No answer.

You pull the phone away from your ear as the call ends, staring at the screen for a moment.

The room is silent.

Joe didn’t pick up.