Rosie screamed. It wasn’t voluntary; the sound came out on its own. Perhaps it had been stuck in her throat these last four years of obsessing over Lights Out, just waiting for the right moment to emerge. It didn’t really matter though, because her voice was drowned out by the voices of every other teenager in the arena.

Rosie had to cling the barricade in order to hold her place at the front of the crowd. If she so much as let go, she might be stampeded by the girls who all wanted Lights Out to see them just as much she did. A few girls tried to force their way past her and swore out loud when Rosie wouldn’t budge. Rosie tried to catch the eye of one of the security guards, but they ignored her. This must be normal for Lights Out concerts.

The stage lights were swirling around the arena, so many colors and laser beams and glowing shapes. A guitar somewhere started playing a riff, which Rosie immediately as recognized the opening riff of “Leave Me Tomorrow,” the lead single off their newest album, “Getting 2 Know U.” Rosie screamed again. So did everyone else.

The first figure who appeared, silhouetted onstage, was undoubtedly Ken Banerjee. Rosie couldn’t see his face, but she recognized him by the outline of his fashionably choppy haircut and the glint of his red Doc Martens. Ken Banerjee, the youngest—and cutest—member of the band. He bounded into the light, a huge grin on his face. He wore a garish Union Jack T-shirt and jeans. He had never been her favorite of the four, but still, Rosie had never been so happy to see anyone. She screamed a third time.

Next was Jon Jenkins, the “smart” or “nerdy” one. He came forward at a more sedate, shuffling pace, blushing timidly. His shaggy brown hair and thick glasses did nothing to hide his chiseled features; he was impossibly handsome. Similarly, his sweater vest and khaki pants tried and (purposefully, artfully, even) failed to disguise the grace of his long, angular frame. Rosie screamed a fourth time.

Derrick Musa, the “bad boy” who wore a leather jacket over his wifebeater tank top, ran on stage with even more bravado than Ken. He was met with especially loud cheers; he was popular with the fans, boys and girls (mostly girls) alike. Rosie screamed a fifth time.

But no one garnered more applause and excitement than the oldest, handsomest, and most dignified member of the band—Will Snow. When Rosie saw him silhouetted there on stage, the edges of his blazer jacket almost as sharp as his cheekbones, she didn’t scream. She made no noise at all. She thought she might’ve stopped breathing.

She sometimes wondered if she should’ve tried, at some point, to choose another member of Lights Out to be her favorite. It’s not like there was anything wrong with Will Snow—on the contrary, he was literally perfect—but it just seemed so basic to choose him above the others. She wished she could be cool like the Derrick fans, or sweet like the Ken fans, or erudite like the Jon fans. Those fans were different. They could see Will Snow standing on a stage or within the frame of a music video or on an interview couch and still find it within themselves to look at anyone else. Rosie, meanwhile, was basic. She was completely and utterly taken by him.

The concert somehow passed very slowly and very quickly at the same time. Lights Out did for Rosie what they always did. They pushed the bad thoughts, the things that she suffered from but could do nothing about, from her mind. They made her feel whole when life threatened to wring everything out of her. With Lights Out, she didn’t have to always be on her guard. She didn’t have to protect anything or fight. She could just be.

It was probably the longest time Rosie had ever gone without thinking of Gina. For over an hour, Rosie sang, screamed, laughed, and cried. She fought with the crowd, yet she also became one with them. She heard her own pain echoed in the shouting voices of other young girls, many of them younger than herself but a few older. She was convinced a thousand times over that the members of the band were looking at her, acknowledged her, although it never felt like they really saw her. If she closed her eyes and imagined that they were singing the lyrics of love and heartbreak and gently child-friendly lust to her, she could live her dream. But the world outside of her dream would always be there when she opened her eyes and saw the hordes of people around her. She was one of many. Every single heart that beat beside her own in this pit was beating at the same pace, for the same band.

It was only at the onset of the last song, the song that brought the concert to its final close after the encore, that Gina came back into her mind. It was like the opening drum beats of “Gemini Girl” had opened the floodgates in her mind and Gina came racing in. The first few verses were Will Snow’s. He opened his mouth, and his voice, deeper and richer than the other voices of the band, graced Madison Square Garden.

Met a girl, yeah she was fine,

Got me by the heart, she’s in my mind.

But if I got one thing to tell the world,

I’d say, “Don’t fall for a Gemini girl.”

Rosie screamed for what must’ve been the zillionth time. She loved this song. It wasn’t her favorite song—how could she ever pick a favorite?—but it was very special to her. And why was it special? Oh, because it was Gina’s favorite. Gina wouldn’t admit it, but she didn’t like Lights Out all that much. She didn’t like them half as much as Rosie did. Rosie could tell. But she did seem to like this song. It was the song that she scream-sang with Rosie while jumping on Gina’s bed, both of them high an adrenaline rush after their final high school prom that spring. It was the song that she chose to feature in her one and only Lights Out fanfiction, “Me and Will Snow.” The fanfic was popular—not as popular as some of Gina’s other fics, all of which she had written about books or TV shows that she actually liked, but it did well. Hundreds of Lights Out fans left adoring comments. None of them knew that Gina had written it for one person and one person alone, and that person was Rosie. It had been Rosie’s sixteenth birthday present, just over two years ago.

Maybe Gina liked it because she and Rosie were both Geminis. Their birthdays were just one day apart at the end of May.

See that’s the thing about the Gemini girl.

She got the prettiest eyes, the prettiest curls,

But you haven’t met other side,

She’ll take you by storm, get you by surprise.

The band had already reached the chorus, and Rosie hadn’t noticed because she was too busy thinking about Gina. Derrick was singing now, and the Derrick fangirls were just about ready to spontaneously combust. Will Snow was standing at one end of the stage, watching his bandmate shine.

Except he wasn’t.

Everything about Will Snow was nonchalant. He stood with one knee lazily bent, his hands clasped idly in front of him. It was a little bit odd, actually. His bandmates pranced around and waved their arms and made silly faces at the crowd. But Will Snow was utterly still. Again, in the most nonchalant way possible.

But there was nothing nonchalant about his gaze. Rosie could see it, because the gaze was on her. There was no doubt about it. She’d been having second thoughts about whether the bandmates were looking at her or not throughout the entire concert. Pretty much every time, she’d concluded that they weren’t, and that it was just her imagination.

But this was not her imagination. It couldn’t have been. His gaze was so strong it seemed to burn into her. Maybe it was just the lights, but those blue eyes almost looked red. Certainly the lights were strong; his teeth flashed bright as his lips curled into a knowing smirk.

Rosie felt incredibly aroused—a sensation that most of the girls around her were probably too young to understand—but also scared. Maybe it was just because people look different in real life from how they look on a screen, but she had never seen Will Snow look like that before. And she wasn’t even sure what that was.

She looked around wildly, trying to see if anyone else had noticed that the most desired boy band star in the world was staring at her. There was no sign that anyone had noticed anything. They were screaming and singing like they had throughout the entire concert. Rosie looked back at the stage, only to find that Will Snow was not looking at her anymore. He was prancing around centerstage with his bandmates, albeit a little more gracefully than they ever could.

Maybe it had been her imagination, after all.