there you are

You cup the mike in your hands, making love to it with your lips, getting as close to it as humanly possible, pouring your voice into it for the world to hear. I would commit all sorts of unspeakable crimes just to be that thing.

You hold your hand up for silence. I tell the people around me to shut up and listen to the magic happening, but they won't listen. I think they can hardly hear themselves, probably. The screams are the teenage hormones incarnate. This might be forgivable in another moment, but not now.

You look beautiful, brown hair curled around your ears, fringe plastered to your forehead by the sweat. Everyone else is on the stage, the guitarist, the drummer, the keyboardist, but it is dark. The spotlight is on you and the keyboardist, but my eyes are on you only.

I am selfish when it comes to you. In that moment, I shut out the world, the crowd, the people around me, and there is only you. Then reality, defiant, sets in again.

The song kicks in with all the instruments. You are apparently satisfied with the previous miniscule amount of silence, but there is definitely no silence now. I am torn between loving this, loving the cymbals and snare and bass and electric guitar and your voice, and loving the simplicity of just your voice alone, pouring like molasses into my ears and drowning my heart.

I sing with you, my voice breaking. The music is beautiful. You are so beautiful. I want to cry, and the person in front of me looks back at me strangely when I sing louder, wanting you to hear me singing your song, your words. You sing surely I'll be waiting alone in the dark and I sing back and there you are, oh, and there you are, and there you are, and there you are.

There you are. I am as hyperaware of you as I can possibly be. There you are. I am so near, I could almost touch you, if only, if only. There you are. You tap your fingers on the mike, and make your hips do this excruciatingly slow swaying dance with the mike stand. There you are.

There you are. I hear you, I see you. I want you. God, I want you so much, it almost hurts.

There you are. I am right here. Look, here. Your eyes turn in my direction, and my eyes frantically search out yours, but you do not see me. I am lost inside the crowd.

There you are, and here I am, but you do not see me at all.

lost at sea, counting all the waves you make
carry me, back into my other days
there you are, there you are.

surely I'll be waiting alone in the dark
and there you are, oh, and there you are.

(there you are/the click five)


a/n: i headbanged and moshed until my nose bled at a pop rock concert. this was written in the aftermath of Click Five Modern Minds and Great Times world tour, specifically the Singapore show on 1 June. i nearly cried when they were playing There You Are. it's a great song, and some idiots were too obsessed with how hot Kyle was to care about how their screaming was affecting the entire mood of the song. not that i'm denying how Dickherber's sex on legs but scream at appropriate moments, will you.

comments on this are muchly appreciated. and this isn't fanfic. it just isn't. don't ask me why.