One Moment.

It's far too hot, the bus trip made her feet fall asleep, she doesn't want another cheeseburger for at least six months, and there's probably a few dodgy guys hanging around.

To be honest, there are only two reasons she came at all.

The first, presumably, is that one band. There's some twenty bands playing, but she only came for one. The band with the heartagram, yes. And the next person who asks her if she likes Bam Margera is going to get boot-kicked.

The other reason is the girl beside her. The girl she's really too scared to touch because of the repercussions. The girl she got help for. The girl who, even through everything, has been there - even when things got more than platonic. The girl that she can safely say she's in love with, even if she's got someone else.

She's been thinking for months now about today, the girl with the heartagram on her foot. Thinking in maybes and what-ifs, but nonetheless.

She just hopes she can grow the guts tonight.

-

She stands there with a little mirror, trying to salvage her appearance.

God, she shouldn't have broken down. Not in front of them.

She and the other girl had simply, innocently, been walking around the little stalls. She'd been hoping, without really putting any faith in it, to meet him.

Oh, but she did. And she met him, showed the man her tattoo. And she told him exactly what he'd done for her, even if they'd never spoken before.

But then she'd broken down, because it finally hit her that the two reasons she was still breathing stood right next to her.

And both of them, she realized, were love. Love in two very different ways, but still love.
-

Almost everything is perfect. Almost everything.

The heartagram band is on the stage, and fuck it all if she hasn't waited three years to see them like this.

She's been thinking about this moment for months. Possibly even more than she's been thinking about the day altogether.

This song, this one three minute and thirty-seven second long song.

Even though everything almost overwhelms her much like it did earlier on, she breathes. She keeps her eyes on the stage, not daring to look at the girl next to her.

Goddamnit, just do it.

But she waits. She waits until it hits that particular point, particular moment in the song. She will wait two minutes and fifty-three seconds. Two minutes and fifty-three seconds she will stand there, half-scared. Scared of doing it, scared of rejection, scared of everything.

Exactly two minutes and fifty-two seconds, she pulls her eyes from the stage and to the girl beside her.

And at two fifty-three, she presses their lips together.

And for one moment, one tiny, insignificant moment, everything in the world is perfect.