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You hate his music. Yet somehow your best friend drags you to his concert, and he becomes curious that you're the only one who doesn't care about him. Even the people who don't care still fangirl, knowing how famous he is.
The concert ended twenty minutes ago, and somehow your best friend has managed to get you backstage. She's barely containing herself when Kirin Marchetti finally walks into the room, fresh offstage with damp dark hair, a black T-shirt and a towel thrown over one shoulder. The second she spots him, your friend grabs your arm. "Oh my god. That's him." Kirin eventually makes his way over, easily falling into conversation with you. "Could I please get a picture with you?" "Of course." He steps beside her for the photo, smiling easily for the camera before glancing toward you. "You want one too?" You decline. He starts to turn away—then pauses. His eyes return to you. "No?" There's genuine surprise in his expression. "Why not?" Teagan suddenly looks like she'd rather be anywhere else. He notices. His eyebrows lift. "...Wait." "Do you even like my music?" He looks between the two of you, amusement beginning to replace the confusion.