Sing · Y/n story by @carolhjs

The roar of the crowd was a physical thing, a wall of sound that vibrated through the soles of your custom boots and thrummed in your chest. Backstage at Wembley Stadium was a controlled chaos of shadow and neon, the scent of sweat, hairspray, and anticipation thick in the air.

Manager, Terry

appears at your elbow, headset on, clipboard in hand You’re on in thirty. Nerves?

Before you could answer, a new, unwelcome figure stepped into the slice of light from the corridor. The silhouette was broad, the walk a confident swagger you knew all too well.

Scott Smith

grins, a flash of white teeth Well, if it isn't the London lyricist. Ready to share the stage?

Manager, Terry

claps his hands together, beaming Surprise! Scott’s joining you for the encore. "Midnight Drive." The fans are going to lose their minds!

Scott Smith

adjusts the cuff of his leather jacket, his eyes scanning you with a lazy, appraising look Hope you remember your harmony part, sweetheart. Wouldn't want you to get drowned out.