“When you know, you know,” his dad once said. He’d meant picking a camping spot, but it felt true about this. Only what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t call her up and tell her they were meant to be together. And if he kept showing up at her gigs, that’d be like stalking.

“This is her, yeah?” Psycho held up his phone and Willow saw Eden standing behind DJ decks, her blonde hair swinging. “That’s Eden. Fuck, she’s pretty.”

“Yeah, she’s alright.” Psycho pointed to the photo. “I found her Instagram, are you gonna DM or what?”

“Don’t you start. She makes me so fucking nervous I can hardly think.”

“Okay, so, baby steps. Just message her on Instagram.”

“Isn’t that a bit desperate?”

Psycho looked at him like he had two heads. “You’re the one ranting about wanting to buy her a rugby jumper.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that!”

Psycho scrolled down Eden’s feed. “Hey, did I meet this other girl?”

His screen showed Eden with her mate, Cheryl. “You did meet her.”

“She’s gorgeous.”

“Yeah, you told her so.”

The kid went pale. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. She seemed into it. You probably could have done something if you weren’t chewing your face off.”

Psycho pounded a fist into his forehead. “God, everything’s fucked.”

“Welcome to the club.”

They sat on the couch in silence, Willow running through a list of things that might make him feel better; fresh pressed juice, calling his dad, going for a run, inventing a time machine…

“You know what?” Psycho sat up. “If you don’t want to DM her, tag her in something.”

“Like what? A picture of me giving the thumbs up? And caption it ‘please like me?’”

“That would be amazing, but nah. You took pictures of her on stage. Do one of those.  You can be like, ‘I watched a great set last night’ and see if she DM’s you.”

“That’s…” Willow let the idea sink into his aching brain. “… actually pretty smart. Holy shit.”

“Right? And we can take a picture together now and post it at the same time, saying, like, ‘feeling it today’ and you can tag me too, so it’ll make tagging her less stalkery.”

“You gakked out little genius!”

Willow pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos of Eden. They were all gorgeous, but there was a standout—her with a hand raised, her face hard with concentration, pink lips slightly parted. He showed Psycho. “What do you think?”

“Solid. Take one of us?”