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“Thank you so much for coming with me, Lena. I know you don’t really want to be here.”
Well, Sam Arias is right about that.
Here is a large park on the outskirts of National city, converted for the day and night into a concert area complete with food and drink stalls, massive crowds, and a huge stage lit with dazzling blue and red. Here is a lot, and Lena Luthor can already feel the drain.
Lena glances at Sam through her shades, a pang of guilt in her chest at Sam’s poorly hidden disappointment. Lena sighs inwardly. What’s that saying? Hoes before bros?
“Oh please,” she says with a smile, “you’re my best friend. If this makes you happy, then I’m happy.
“But you could be happier,” Sam says, nudging Lena’s shoulder as they walk. “And I really do appreciate this, you know.”
“It’s your birthday and I’m rich,” Lena shrugs, “why wouldn’t I get you tickets to see your favourite band?”
“Because you hate them.”
“I don’t hate them,” Lena draws out, ignoring Sam’s laugh, “I just… prefer other music types.”
“I don’t understand how you can’t like punk rock,” Sam teases, “it’s our childhood genre! And No Heroes are bringing it back. Gen Z needs to be educated.”
“Oh god, don’t even get me started on the name,” Lena groans, because who comes up with this shit? No Heroes? Lena would bet a hundred bucks they used a random name generator.
“Whatever,” Sam laughs. “Next time we’ll go to a jazz club or something, okay?”
“Please,” Lena deadpans, but winks to soften it. “Seriously though, I promise I’ll have fun. For you.”
“You better, because I’m about to be a screaming mess. Think of it as a missed teenage experience for you: fangirling at a concert.”
Sam’s not wrong. Lena’s childhood wasn’t exactly filled with the normal things a teenager might do. There were no gigs, no parties, no high school dances with spiked punch. It was all private school and extra tutoring and fencing competitions, with no time and absolutely no permission to do anything that didn’t fit the Luthor image. And because of that, Lena will admit there is a tiny part that’s excited for tonight’s show. The rebellious teenager in her soul that was never allowed to live.
“Let’s get a drink,” Sam says, guiding them towards the bar tent. Lena sighs gratefully.
“God yes. Do you think they do neat whisky?”
The answer is no, because apparently that isn’t a thing at concerts. Lena longs for the future jazz club trip as Sam orders them two tequila shots each.
“Gotta loosen up just the tiniest bit, Luthor,” Sam says as the barman slides the glasses and lime wedges their way. “Get you calmer for when the yelling starts.”
“The band or the fans?” Lena grumbles.
“Both!” Sam says cheerily. “Bottoms up, babe.”
The shots sting but it’s fun, really - it’s fun being with Sam and acting more wild than she’s usually allowed to act. Heading the research and development department at her family’s massive international tech corporation doesn’t exactly allow for a lot of downtime.
God, Sam was more right about missed experiences than Lena realised. Her teenage years are over but her life is still so rigid.
Maybe this gig is a chance at normality in an otherwise ordered and restrictive life, and it would be stupid to waste it. It’s an opportunity to let go, to take a day to be… someone else. The Lena trapped beneath the suits and straight faces. The Lena that desperately wants to have fun.
A different Lena.
She feeds on the little thrill the thought brings, letting it make the next decision for her.
“Let’s get cheese fries.”
Sam stares at her, eyes widening in excitement.
“Ready to enjoy yourself now?” She asks, hooking her arm through Lena’s.
Lena can’t suppress her smirk.
“Yes!” Sam punches the air, making Lena laugh. “Celebratory cheese fries, let’s go.”
The fries are terrible, and Lena loves every mouthful of fake cheese and overpriced potato. They follow their greasy food with multiple merch stalls, Sam picking an honestly ridiculous amount of T-shirts and hoodies that Lena insists on buying for her, and it’s at the last stall that someone interrupts their little spree.
“Good choice,” the woman says, nodding at the hoodie clasped in Sam’s hands.
“Oh my god, I know, right?” Sam says in a rush. “Second favourite of my five-”
“Six,” Lena interrupts.
“Six purchases of the day,” Sam grins, wincing a little with embarrassment, but the woman only laughs good-naturedly.
“Wow, big fan?”
“You have no idea.”
Lena takes a moment to speed-judge the woman. She’s slender, a little shorter than Sam and with cropped and dyed red hair that swoops back in a sleek gelled style. Her jacket is dark denim and slightly worn, she’s wearing tight black jeans, and what looks like steel-toed boots.
Lena sighs.
Exactly Sam’s type.
Without Sam to distract her, the noise filters in. It’s loud and cramped and Lena is suddenly aware of the sheer amount of people around them. It’s a lot. It’s a lot . A glance at Sam and Lena can see her friend is practically shining with the conversation, a little pink in the cheeks at the attention.
Lena takes it as a sign.
“Sam? I’m gonna step out for a bit, get some air.”
“Oh,” Sam frowns with worry. “I’ll come with you-”
“No!” Lena says quickly, eyes darting to the red-head who appears silently relieved at the outburst. “No, you stay here. Keep chatting. I won’t be long, just text me if you move from here?”
Sam purses her lips, looking back at the woman and then again at Lena, the sparkle back in her eye. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely,” Lena nods. She turns her back to the woman slightly and raises her eyebrows at Sam. Mouthing ‘get it’ has Sam spluttering a laugh, and with that she flashes a smirk at the woman and starts to push her way through the crowds.
The park is packed with people, with no discernible area where the people thin out, so Lena heads to walk around the back of some of the stalls towards the edge.
The stage itself has a large backstage area that is mostly free of workers, Lena sees, and with no one looking, Lena decides to feed on that rebellious thrill once more and duck the tape fence. She quickly heads to the back of the building and leans against the brick, sighing deeply at the lessened racket of concert-goers. It’s peaceful. Calm. Quiet.
“Shoot, shoot, shoot.”
It was peaceful, calm, and quiet.
Lena opens eyes she doesn’t remember closing to find a blonde woman stumbling through a door to her left, tripping a little on the grass as she mumbles.
“Shoot,” the woman says again, “shoot, dang…crap. Crap.”
“Are you okay?”
Perhaps the wrong thing to say to a person potentially freaking out, because the woman leaps a good foot in the air with a yelp.
“Oh, gosh,” she says, “you scared the bejesus out of me.”
“Bejesus?” Lena asks, slightly amused, but the woman isn’t listening, hand over her chest and eyes closed tight. Lena’s amusement immediately turns to concern. “Seriously, are you alright?”
“No. Yes.” The woman says quietly. “I mean, in the grand scheme of things I’m fine, y’know? I’m alive, I’m healthy, I have a job and a house and friends and stuff, so like, I am alright.”
Lena blinks.
“Okay?”
“But I’m also not alright,” the woman says hurriedly, still not looking at Lena, starting to pace with jerky movements. “Because there’s a lot happening, isn’t there? Out there? A lot of people and noise and talking and most of the time it’s fine, I’m fine, I’ve learned how to handle it, but sometimes it’s just-” and the woman cuts herself off, winces, lifts her hands as if she’s going to maybe cover her ears then freezes before lowering them into fists and breathing deeply.
Lena sees her swallow.
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
Then she opens her eyes, and Lena is struck.
With the pacing and the looking anywhere but at her, Lena couldn’t really tell what the woman looked like, but now, now she sees bright blue eyes, soft freckles, hair that sits in golden waves. She sees the white t-shirt perfectly molded to broad shoulders, tucked into blue jeans and finished with a black belt. Is so casual, so basic, and so… god, so hot.
Lena has to haul her thoughts back together before opening her mouth.
“You don’t seem fine,” she ventures. The woman’s beautiful shoulders tighten.
“What are you doing back here? What are you trying to pull?” The blonde deflects.
With the sudden appearance of the woman and her subsequent rambling into an almost-panic attack, Lena had forgotten that she was somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be.
“Sorry,” she says immediately, lifting her hands, “I just needed some space, and there wasn’t anyone around. I’m not trying to sneak backstage.”
The woman is still staring at her, eyebrows furrowed in part suspicion, part confusion. Lena hurries on, ready to offer money to smooth things over should this go south.
“I’ll go, I’m sorry.”
“No, wait,” the woman says, “it’s fine.” The blonde takes a tentative step closer to Lena, angling for a spot against the wall a few feet away. “Are you, uh… here for the show?”
“Yes,” Lena nods, trying to resist twisting her fingers together. The woman is beautiful, leaning with a shoulder pressed to the wall, arms folded across her chest.
“And you, um,” the woman starts and stops, her expression still confused but now with an edge of curiosity, “do you… want a photo? Or…”
Now it’s Lena’s turn to be confused.
“A photo of what?”
It’s a simple question, but something about it seems to let the tension out of the blonde’s shoulders. The confusion vanishes, replaced with a sort of relief and intrigue Lena can’t explain.
“Nothing, sorry,” the woman says, shaking her head with a small smile, and Christ, what a smile. It lights up the woman’s face, brightening her features and appling her cheeks. “So, you’re literally just back here for space.”
“Yes,” Lena nods, not really following where this conversation is headed. “And some quiet.”
“I swear this is the only place for it,” the blonde sighs.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you seem stressed,” Lena says. “Are you with the band?”
The woman bites her lip through a smile.
“Yeah,” she nods slowly, “I guess I am with them. And, yeah, also stressed.”
“You mentioned noise,” Lena ventures.
“It’s just… sometimes things get too loud. I’m prone to overstimulation. I’ve got a pretty good grasp on it but sometimes things get too much, specifically noise,” the woman looks down at her feet, scuffing a white sneaker into the grass. “Probably in the wrong business.”
“Don’t you have earplugs for working backstage?”
“I have special ones,” the woman gives Lena a sad smile, “and I can’t find them anywhere. They’re not available in store so I can’t run and buy some. And I can’t stay out here long enough to calm my senses down, so. Kind of screwed.”
The blonde looks so disappointed, so concerned, that Lena makes a split decision.
“Um, if you don’t mind the fact that they’ve been in my ears,” Lena says as she rummages in her tote, “I have these you could borrow?” Her fingers find the soft pouch and she pulls it out, offering it to the woman. “They’re my own earplugs, the kind that block out background noise. I use them to help me work or in big crowds.”
“That’s the brand mine are from,” Kara says with a growing smile. She reaches out the take the pouch, then halts halfway. “Don’t you need them? For the show?”
“I’ll survive,” Lena shrugs. “Kind of looks like you could use them more than me right now.”
“Wow, thank you,” the woman breathes, taking the little bag and upending the earplugs into her hand. “These will help. Gosh, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“They’re only headphones,” Lena says with a smile, “please, don’t worry about it.”
The woman’s smile grows further, bringing pink to her cheeks, and all Lena can do is smile back and feel warm.
“I’m Kara,” the woman says, taking a step to slide along the wall slightly closer to Lena.
“Lena,” she replies.
“So, Lena,” Kara says, “you’re here for the gig but I, uh, get the feeling you don’t know the band too well?”
“I’m here with my best friend,” Lena explains with a sigh. “No Heroes is her new obsession and I bought her these tickets for her birthday. She wanted me to come with, besides knowing damn well I don’t like their music.”
That shocks a laugh from Kara who seems to choke on it a little, eyes shining with mirth.
“Not a fan, then?”
“Really not my genre of choice,” Lena shrugs. “It’s just noise, to me. The lead singer has a nice enough voice but-”
And Kara laughs again, loud and free, enough to both confuse and delight Lena as she watches her.
“Sorry,” Kara gets out, “sorry, it’s just funny. What were you going to say? Nice enough voice, but…”
“But the absolute chaos in the background is wholly distracting,” Lena says, watching Kara’s shoulders shake with her remaining chuckles. “I prefer jazz.”
Kara nods thoughtfully, still smiling. “Just jazz?”
“Classical, too.”
“I love classical guitar,” Kara offers. “Also a big fan of the harp. But is that it? No private music obsessions? Guilty pleasures?”
Kara is closer again. If Lena reached out to her side, her hand would touch Kara’s, just a foot between them. The closeness makes her tingly and giddy, and the easy conversation makes her feel loose.
“Well, maybe one,”
Kara’s eyes sparkle.
“Tell me,” she says, voice hushed as if they’re sharing secrets.
Lena bites her lip, then inches closer herself. There’s only a hand’s width between them. Lena leans her head towards Kara’s.
“I love Taylor Swift.”
Kara looks… overjoyed.
“Oh my gosh, me too,” she grins, eyes dancing with excitement. “Favourite album?”
“Folklore,” Lena sighs, “I love her more soulful music.”
“An excellent choice,” Kara nods. She watches Lena for a moment, blue eyes darting over her face. Lena swallows under the gaze. Kara looks curious again. “What do you do, Lena?”
“I work in engineering,” Lena says, and that’s all she’s willing to give in this strange encounter about her real life. She wants to keep it to whatever existence it’s currently in, where Kara is beautiful and sweet and Lena is free.
“Wow, that’s awesome,” Kara says but she doesn’t push, picking up on the cue. “I love that kind of stuff. Was pretty dedicated to the idea of becoming a scientist when I was younger.”
“What changed?” Lena asks. Kara shrugs.
“A different kind of career bug bit me.” Kara tilts her head, still leaning against the wall on that perfect broad shoulder. “May I ask what kind of science?”
Lena allows the question, because Kara’s eyes are so blue and her freckles are much more clear up close.
“Mechanical,” Lena admits. “I… like robots.”
Kara beams.
“A beautiful woman that loves Taylor Swift and builds robots? Do you have any flaws?”
And Lena is so taken aback by the ‘beautiful’ comment, so taken over by the warm flush that she’s sure reaches her collarbones, that she can’t help but say the first stupid thing that comes to her head.
“I… don’t like pizza?”
Kara’s mouth drops open.
“Oh god,” Kara groans with a laugh, “I wish I hadn’t asked. You don’t like pizza? That is… are you okay?”
“I am perfectly fine,” Lena glares at Kara playfully, “pizza just isn’t all that. Give me Chinese, Thai, Indian, or burgers any day.”
Kara purses her lips. “And your view on potstickers?”
Lena senses that this is a test. She locks eyes with Kara.
“Always part of my Chinese takeout order.”
Kara seems to glow.
“Right answer,” she sighs happily, and once again Lena finds herself trapped in a blue-eyed stare. She gets the feeling that Kara is taking her in, the probable flush on her cheeks, maybe the green of her eyes, the dark spray of her lashes, but the gaze dips once to her lips, twice. It’s so quick that Lena is sure Kara is trying to stop but can’t seem to help herself.
It’s exciting. It’s exhilarating. This Adonis from out of the blue is clearly trying to check Lena out without getting caught, a weird mix of nervousness and confidence that simply shouldn’t exist together and yet somehow do in Kara’s posture, in her lingering gaze, in the bite of her lip.
“And you like potstickers,” Kara says. “It sounds like you might be perfect.”
And Lena, Lena decides to be bold.
“Kara,” she says softly, dropping her voice into something almost silky, “are you flirting with me?”
“I might be,” Kara grins, “is it working?” And then Kara blinks, the nerves suddenly seeming to step in front of the confidence. “Please tell me it’s working.”
Lena can’t help but laugh at how endearingly juxtaposed this woman is, like two sides of a personality in one.
“It’s working,” Lena replies.
“Neat,” Kara breathes, shuffling inches closer, and god, they are close now, and isn’t that wild? Lena Luthor, organised and professional and controlled Lena Luthor. Lena Luthor who structures her entire life and only visits high caliber institutions to avoid causing any problems and wouldn’t dare get entangled with anyone without high trust levels or a signed NDA first. Lena Luthor who simply doesn’t do… this, is doing this.
Lena almost jumps when something brushes her upper arm until she realises it’s the cotton of Kara’s t-shirt across her chest. Kara is so close that they’re touching, and so Lena turns because, because-
“Kara,” Lena asks, voice low, trying to mirror the tone from before but only managing something breathy, “are you going to kiss me?”
Kara smirks, and it’s seductive but it’s also just so soft, her blue eyes flitting between Lena’s.
“I might be,” Kara whispers back.
And they could continue the banter, echo their words from just 30 seconds ago, but Kara’s eyes are on Lena’s lips now and Lena can feel Kara’s warmth and they’re on limited time, aren’t they? Sam must be wondering where she is, Kara must have to work, and god, they’re so close, so close-
Kara’s lips seem to capture her own.
They’re soft and full and they steal Lena’s breath. Neither of them move. It’s that suspended moment of perfect bliss that only comes with a really good first kiss, keeping them still, keeping them trapped in something truly good .
And then, they move.
The slow pace only lasts a few seconds. Three soft pecks turn into tilted heads and open mouths, hot and edged with a steadily growing desperation. The touch of Kara’s tongue has Lena’s stomach dipping, a heavy heat settling between her thighs that shocks her because it’s just a kiss.
But it’s also Kara, this charming stranger she’s literally just met, and apparently that means something to Lena’s heart rate.
The hand at her cheek feels like pouring fuel on the fire. The touch ignites Lena, drives her to kiss faster, harder, to tangle her fist into the front of Kara’s shirt and pull.
And then Kara is pressing Lena into the wall and all thought is gone.
It’s all movement and heat, soft sounds and panted breaths, and the sweetest moan from Kara’s lips when Lena can’t help but can’t her hips. It’s desperate and gorgeous and nothing Lena thought she’d ever get to have. Desperate and heady and wild. Free.
Lena grips Kara’s nape with her free hand then slides it down toned shoulders and a muscular back, landing where the white tee is tucked into dark jeans, and she pulls it out, just a little, just enough to slip her fingers through and feel Kara’s skin. The gasp she gets from Kara is everything, the bitten lip even more than that.
When Kara’s hips press back, Lena has the fleeting thought that they might end up fucking against this wall. The two of them, complete strangers, are heading straight into territory that Lena should very much care about but doesn’t, because Kara is beautiful, irresistible, and her hand is sliding down Lena’s chest to dance a thumb delicately over a nipple that Lena knows is visibly hard beneath her own shirt-
“Kara- oh. Nice.”
At the sudden voice, Kara tears away from her so fast that Lena would have stumbled forwards if not for the hand still pressed over her breast.
“Mike!”
A man is hanging out of the door beside them, boy-next-door grin and classically handsome features forming an appreciative expression as he takes in Kara and Lena, his eyes finally settling on Kara’s hand on her boob.
Kara snaps it away and scowls.
“Mike, I am busy.” Kara says through gritted teeth, indicating Lena with a tight nod, but the man just shrugs happily.
“And as hot as that is, you’re needed in the green room. Support act is about to start.”
“Shoot!” Kara checks the leather watch on her wrist, an expensive brand that Lena recognises with some curiosity. “I, uh… lost track of time.”
“I can see that,” the man, Mike, says with a lascivious grin. He looks at Lena and winks. “Hi, I’m Mike.”
Lena blinks.
“Okay.”
Kara’s little scoff of laughter has Lena facing her again, finding blue eyes already fixed on her. They share a smile, slightly shy, before Mike clears his throat.
“Look, I’d love to just leave you guys here, Kara, god knows you need it-”
“Hey!”
“-but I wasn’t kidding about the green room thing. Alex just got back and she’s gonna have your head.”
“Fine, fine,” Kara moans, “can you just… go? I’ll be there in a second.”
Mike folds his arms with a smug smile as he leans against the door frame.
“Nah, I think I’ll wait here.”
“God, you suck,” Kara mutters. She turns to Lena, smiling again a little awkwardly and shuffling her feet in the grass. “Um, I have to go.”
“Guess the show can’t run without you, huh.”
“No,” Kara chuckles, even more awkward and rubbing the back of her neck, “definitely not. But, would it be alright if we could maybe, like, meet after? So I can give you the earplugs back.”
And the kiss is over, their bubble burst, but Lena still feels that rebellious little wild streak alive in her chest. Kara’s lips had tasted like freedom and Lena isn’t sure she can let that go. Not yet. So what’s one more impulsive decision?
“Okay.”
Kara’s smile stretches into a beaming grin.
“Okay?”
“Yeah,” Lena smiles too. “Okay. I can meet you here?”
“Yes, yeah,” Kara nods eagerly, “half an hour after the show?”
“That sounds good,” Lena says, biting her lip. Kara’s eyes dip down for a moment and Lena could swear she sways forward just the tiniest bit and Lena is ready, licks her lips delicately and looks at Kara’s own, still swollen from before-
Mike coughs, loudly.
“Jeez,” Kara mumbles with an eye roll. “Okay, I’m going. See you later, Lena?”
“See you later, Kara.”
And with a sweet smile and even sweeter little wave, Kara disappears through the door behind Mike, the sound of Mike’s teasing laughter and Kara’s grumbling following them, and then Lena is left alone.
This would typically be the moment that regret hits her, but she finds that she’s… fine. Seriously. Fine. Better than fine, actually. Elated would probably be a better word. Giddy, another. Ecstatic probably fits too. She presses a hand to her chest, over her heart, and feels it heavily thump beneath her palm.
Had that really just happened? The tingling of her lips is solid enough proof.
Lena smiles, takes a deep breath, then heads back to the crowds.
Sam is on her as soon as she’s back in view.
“Lena! Where the hell have you been?” Sam says, throwing her hands out. “I thought you’d only be gone a minute or two.”
“How long have I been gone?” Lena asks, frowning.
“Like ten minutes,” Sam says, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “Where were you?”
“I…” Lena starts, unsure of how to accurate describe what the fuck just happened. “I was making out. With a woman. Against a wall.”
Sam stares at her, wide eyed.
Then-
“What! Lena Luthor!” Sam squeals. “Holy shit! Okay, what the hell, tell me more like we get a good spot.”
“She was beautiful,” Lena blurts, “and hot. Blonde and kind of muscular, black jeans and a white tee that was just… devastatingly casual. A nervous mess but also confident, somehow. Had a kind of manic energy about her actually.”
“Okay, sounds… well, sounds like not your usual kind of hook up.”
“I know,” Lena says, “I know. But, god, she was so sweet and sexy and, and I felt just comfortable around her.”
“Well yeah,” Sam drawls. “You wouldn’t have kissed her otherwise. You’re not exactly free with your affections.”
“But I was,” Lena says, sort of proud, “I decided to say fuck it, y’know?”
“Fuck it or fuck her?”
“God,” Lena groans, “I wish.”
Sam cackles, pulling them forcefully into the middle of the crowd as the support band runs on stage to loud cheers. “Lena Luthor, you dark horse. Did you get her number?”
“No. But,” Lena cuts off Sam’s almost outburst, “I did arrange to meet her after the show.”
“That’s my girl!” Sam abouts, throwing an arm around Lena. “And it works out perfectly as I may or may not have agreed to grab a drink with that redhead…”
Lena laughs and shoves Sam, only for the woman to bounce right back into Lena and bring her into a hug, just as the support act starts playing. Their music is fine, probably good if you like that sort of thing, but Lena is barely listening, still thinking of honey blonde hair and soft lips and the hand firmly cupping her jaw…
“It’s starting oh my god oh my god it’s starting.”
Lena is pulled from her thoughts by Sam’s excited yelling, and focuses on the stage only to see that the band had gone and the lights were starting to spin while the opening bars of a song Lena faintly recognises start playing. How long has she been thinking of Kara? It felt like only minutes had passed but a quick check of her watch shows-
Half an hour?! She’d been thinking of a total strange for thirty fucking minutes?
God, Lena really needs things to go well later.
Sam’s sudden scream yanks Lena back into the present once more to see people rising from under the stage. First, an entire drum set with a dark-skinned and muscular man sat behind it and already playing a steady beat appears at the back.
“That’s James Olsen, he’s incredible, he founded the band a few years back,” Sam says loudly in her ear as the crowds scream around them.
Next, a focused man with white blonde hair scraped back and lurid green eyeshadow rises, a bass guitar in his arms that he plucks a low rhythm on.
“And that’s Querl Dox,” Sam supplies, “best bass player you’ll ever hear, and a super genius too.”
Third, a handsome guy holding an electric guitar, staring down at his fingers moving across the strings before looking up at the crowd and flashing a wicked grin.
Lena frowns.
“That’s-”
“Mike Matthews,” Sam finishes, “guitarist, a total ladies man, but great with fans. Always has time for a photo or autograph.”
So, Lena had met a famous guitarist. Sam will be excited when Lena tells her after the show.
“Who’s left?” Lena asks after 30 seconds pass with no further band members appearing. “Is this it?”
“Oh, no,” Sam shouts gleefully over the building melody. “Saving the best ‘til last. Look, here she comes!”
The men stop playing, and silence falls across the stage despite the still-screaming fans. All of the lights spin and point to one spot at the front of the stage and slowly, slowly, someone rises from below.
Blonde hair.
Broad shoulders.
White t-shirt.
Lena swallows hard, and the woman looks up.
Oh, shit.
“Kara,” Lena says weakly.
Sam must hear anyway.
“Yeah!” Sam cheers with a grin for Lena. “Kara Danvers, lead singer and unofficial leading member of No Heroes. Pipes of gold, Lena, I’m telling you.”
Lena can only stare as Kara finishes lifting from beneath the stage, flashing a sweet grin at the audience that makes them go wild.
“Fuck.”
“Lena?”
“Fuck. Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” Sam asks worriedly. She must see Lena’s stare fixed on the stage, on Kara, must see her definitely flushed cheeks as she blonde welcomes the roaring crowd. Sam glances at the stage and then back at Lena.
Lena sees her mouth drop open.
“Oh my god, Lena, you didn’t…”
“I didn’t know who she was!” Lena yelps, covering her face with her hands. She’s met with Sam’s booming laughter.
“Holy shit! You made out with Kara Danvers?!”
“And I told her I hated her music,” Lena moans into her palms. Sam only laughs even harder.
“This is amazing,” she cackles. “Best birthday ever!”
A delighted laugh echoes over the park and Lena’s attention immediately whips back to the stage.
“How’s it going, National City!” Kara calls into the microphone to thousands of screaming cheers. “Ready to listen to some music?”
The crowd is so loud Lena almost laments giving her earplugs away, but seeing Kara so at ease on stage and knowing there’s a chance Lena helped with that makes the regret vanish instantly. What’s a perforated eardrum when faced with the glowing sun that is Kara Danvers on stage, after all?
“You know,” Sam leans down to say into Lena’s ear as the band starts up again, “the woman I was talking to? It was Kara’s sister. She’s like their assistant manager or something. I thought it was insane that I was going for a drink with a relative of the band, and there’s you getting heavy with the lead fucking singer!”
“Let’s just watch,” Lena says, shaking her head, but she can’t help but smile in belief.
Kara starts to sing and Sam is right, her voice is stunning. It’s melodic and clear and it captures the audience, captures Lena, just as her charm and awkwardness and lips had done not half an hour earlier.
So, Lena listens to the band play, listens to Sam scream the words to each song, listens to Kara sing like a damn angel, and Lena decides that she can enjoy this.
She thinks of Kara. Thinks of later.
And thinks that maybe this could be good music after all.