Buffy pushed her way through the crowd. What had been going through her mind, she wondered, when she decided to attend a Her Vacant Eyes concert? They were practically famous just for the intensity of the fans.
She was wondering this because at the moment she was having to deal with those fans, and they weren't happy. With the innocent motive of trying to buy a t-shirt, Buffy had left her sister, Dawn, and Dawn's friend, Janice, at the front. They had arrived hours early to get a good place, and they were close to the stage, but Buffy had left for t-shirts. The line had been longer than she anticipated, and now the opening band—Neon Trees—was already playing. She had decided to just go for it and push her way through, even though she hated people who did that. She had a good reason though! She couldn't just leave Dawn and Janice up there in what would probably be a mosh pit in about half an hour.
Truthfully she wouldn't have even gone if Dawn hadn't asked her. Y#AR of the D#AD CELBEBRITES was her favorite band of all time. They had a rock edge, but their lyrics were known for being excessively poetic, some said a little too sappy. Buffy really had no opinion about them besides the slight annoyance when Dawn would blast their music through the house and Buffy had to listen to it ten million times in a row.
In fact she might have still resisted Dawn's pleading, but this was apparently a "special" concert, and their mother said Dawn couldn't come without an adult—which meant Buffy, since no sane adult would accompany two teenage girls to a concert.
It was special, according to Dawn, because tonight was the reinvention of the band. Instead of going by their former name—Y#AR of the D#AD CELBEBRITES—they were changing their name to Her Vacant Eyes, and were changing their look as well. Even their music was going to be different, rumored to be more in-your-face and punk. All this was fine with most of the fans, who would follow the band to the ends of the earth, including Dawn. No one was really sure what to expect though, because they hadn't revealed what any of the changes looked like. This would be the debut performance of an entirely new band.
Buffy actually knew half the story; it had been in gossip magazines for weeks. The lead singer, William Pratt, had broken up with his girlfriend, Drusilla, and that had led to the announcement of the reinvention. It was an idea—or possibly a demand—of William's.
Drusilla was an English actress that the whole world was obsessed with. Buffy suspected that obsession had something to do with the fact that no one knew what Drusilla would do next after every crazy incident, and less to do with her acting. Not that it wasn't good—she was captivating onscreen, but she overshadowed it with the various insane moments that were hyped up and salivated over by the media.
No one really knew for sure—although that didn't stop the magazines from making things up. Buffy wasn't even really sure whose side the public was supposed to be on—lately it seemed that William's was the sympathetic side. In any case, the new huge story was that the two had broken up after a passionate relationship that had brought William's band into the public eye, and shot them to stardom. What everyone wanted to know was how they would do now that Drusilla wasn't officially connected to them.
Buffy actually (secretly; very very secretly) thought that William was kind of hot. He had sandy longish hair, and, of all things for a rock star, wore glasses. It was quite cute, in a nerdy sort of way. She could certainly see where the poetic reputation came from.
"Excuse me, sorry," Buffy muttered as she kept pushing through the crowd. Although she got through, she could tell the fans weren't happy about it.
"Fuck off," one told her irritably, but didn't resist when she went past, ignoring him.
"What the hell?" a girl asked her friend as Buffy slid past, trying to keep contact to a minimum. She really felt bad, but she had to get to Dawn or have them both go to the back—and no way was she going to do that after waiting for a solid three hours.
Buffy had texted Dawn, asking her to hold her phone up and wave so she could see where the two other girls were in the crowd. It was too dark and loud to be able to tell otherwise. The opening band, Neon Trees, was playing one of their most popular songs, and the crowd was getting pumped up.
Only about ten feet away Buffy saw Dawn's raised phone waving frantically. She breathed a sigh of relief that she would only have to push past a few more people, when she ran straight into someone's back unexpectedly.
It was a man. He was only a few inches taller than her, with ridiculous—in Buffy's opinion—bleached blonde hair, wearing a black vest adorned with way too many safety pins to Buffy's estimation, and black jeans. He had a chain necklace and a few rings—why would a guy wear jewelry? She thought snidely. Really she just was annoyed with him being in her way when she was so close to her destination.
"Um, excuse me," she yelled to be heard over the music. Luckily the song was just reaching its close, and as the crowd's cheers lessened a little, the man turned to look at her.
The "sod off" that was about to come from Spike died in his throat. The girl behind him who seemed to have run headlong into his back was blonde, golden, petite and gorgeous. Her hair was slightly crazy, just the way he imagined it would be if she woke up after a night of fun. All he could think of was how he would love to see her dance. He was speechless for a moment as he looked her over. Never mind telling her to sod off, he would have some entertainment.
"Something you want, luv?" he asked as the next song started to the roar of the crowd's approval.
Buffy hoped she wouldn't stammer, since she was lost in his blue eyes and cheekbones—hell, his whole face. Luckily she wasn't one to usually lose her composure when confronted with a hot guy. That track record was about to be tested however—she'd never seen a guy anywhere near the vicinity of this hot. Even the guyliner that wasn't usually her thing looked good on him.
"Yeah, I need to get past you. My sister is up there." Good. Be firm and keep pushing.
"So, what, you think you can just push your way through here? I waited for four hours, don' think I'm going to give up my place that easy. Not even for you, pet." Spike was lying—he hadn't waited at all really; he had what you might call an "all access pass" but it wouldn't hurt to make this girl think he wasn't going to give up his small amount of standing room.
Buffy was starting to get really annoyed. She put her hands on her hips. "Are you going to let me get by you or not?" she asked with finality.
Spike curled his tongue under his teeth—god, that's hot!—and raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"
Trying to ignore the enticing expression on his face, Buffy shrugged. "Okay," she said, and made to push past him unceremoniously. Unfortunately for her, Spike was stronger and more determined than she had thought, and easily stepped so that she was blocked again.
"God! Could you be any more obnoxious?" Buffy asked. She realized she sounded much younger than her twenty three years, but she couldn't help it. This man—who didn't look much older than her—was acting even more childish than her. "I seriously need to get to my sister. Can you just let me by and get over it?"
"Maybe. How's about first you do something for me."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Buffy said, holding her hands up. She meant to put some distance between them at his words, but with the minimal space available, she just ended up putting both hands on his chest. Next thing she knew, the crowd was surging around them, and she was pinned up against him.
You make love to everything you touch
It's a sensual attraction
"Maybe now that we're this close I should introduce myself," Spike said humorously, enjoying the deer in the headlights look that was on her face. "I'm Spike." He loved the way that name sounded coming out of his mouth. He knew he would love it even more if she said it.
She didn't. Instead she raised her eyebrows with a dubious look and said, "Right, like I'd tell you my name. Let me by or I'm going to have to hurt you." She smiled sweetly.
"Uh huh." Spike grinned back. "Alrigh', I'll let you get to your precious sis. If you give me something."
"Once again, I say, whoa. And no."
"Just a kiss?"
Buffy couldn't answer this time. The crowd was still pulsing around them, and she was just as pressed up against him, if not more so, with nothing to do about it. She was totally speechless. What kind of guy asked for a kiss from a girl he didn't know? A really cocky, hot one with the improbable name of Spike.
Spike decided this was it. Now or never, whether she said yes or not. As she looked up at him with a mixture of emotions he couldn't decipher, he decided hell with it and brought his lips to hers.
Buffy's first reaction was to pull away, but she physically couldn't, and then as the moment dragged on, found she didn't want to. Everything seemed a little faded besides Spike connected with her, both of them breathing raggedly as the kiss deepened. She reached up and tightened her fingers in his hair, pulling him into her, a feat which was incredible considering how close the throngs of people them had them already.
I lose control
When I hear your body move
Through the walls in the next room
Spike felt like he was in heaven. Everything about this girl was beautiful. He wanted to stay there forever.
Just as the thought crossed his mind though, she pulled away, and he noticed the song was ending. "This is our last one for tonight!" the lead singer yelled.
Buffy was torn between going in for another kiss and slapping him, but the choice was taken from her when a look of slight panic crossed Spike's face for a moment, and running his hands through his hair, he said, "Gotta go, luv. Might see you soon."
And before Buffy could form a coherent sentence he had disappeared through the masses, away from the stage.
Might see you soon? Probably not, she thought regrettably.
As Neon Trees left the stage, Buffy made it to Dawn.
"I sure hope you like this shirt, because not only did I buy it but I went through things you don't even want to know about to get back here."
"I'm sure you did," Dawn said absently, and starting squealing and jumping up and down with Janice about how Her Vacant Eyes was about to come onstage in a mere twenty minutes.
Next thing she knew the lights were dimming and the stage lit up with a red glow. The three more minor members ran onstage and immediately started a hard, guitar infused song, building with the drums. The many girls—and guys—in the crowd were screaming as a dark figure became visible in the back, silhouetted by a curtain.
The curtain fell, and William ran to the front of the stage, starting to sing a louder, angrier, hell-with-it-all song than he ever had before.
Spike felt amazing. This was the image he had been looking for since he had started performing—Drusilla had given him one thing: the guts and reason to change what he had been into something stronger and better than before. He could tell the fans were loving it, but even if they hadn't he would have felt the same. This was him—the real him.
Buffy tried not to let her jaw drop. Amidst the music she knew wouldn't be out of her head for weeks was the man who had kissed her not half an hour before. William, she realized, was the former Spike. He must have been gauging the crowd, enjoying the energy, and just happened to be in her way. And obviously he had liked her.
And now he was definitely seeing her.
From their vantage point of right up next to the stage, Buffy, Dawn and Janice could see every change in expression on Spike's face—and as he saw Buffy, his, eyes lit up. He curled his tongue under his teeth just like he'd done before, and gave her a small nod. She didn't know what that meant, but she hoped it meant she could see him again. Soon.