It was late spring. The days were getting longer, and the heat came on fast like music turned up at full volume. You were currently unloading boxes from a trailer and walking them over to a table where you would be spending the rest of the night.

You had managed to get a job selling merch for a band called Greta Van Fleet. Your parents were far from happy when you told them the news, but at 22 years old there wasn't much they could do about it. You were just happy to get out of the small town you called home for your whole life.

It was a little over a week into the tour and you were absolutely loving it, even though you rarely saw the guys. That wasn't them being rude it was you choosing to stay out of the way. You didn't want to come off as pushy or that you only wanted the job to meet them. So, you stayed back, being nice whenever they were around and offering to help in any way you could.

After a few trips back and forth to the table in the center of the venue you began to get tired. You made the decision to try and carry more boxes, so you could make fewer trips in the heat. That wasn't your greatest idea as only a few feet from the trailer a box of t-shirts came toppling down onto the ground spilling all over the place.

"Damn it." You muttered to yourself once you heard the thump of the cardboard on the pavement.

"Oh, wait I'll help you." You heard a voice call out.

Before you could even object you saw a pair of hands beginning to fold the shirts and put them back in the box. You set down the remaining boxes you were holding and knelt to help the mystery person.

"Thanks. You didn't have to stop and help. It's my fault for carrying too many boxes at once." You said grabbing a shirt and folding it.

"It's no problem. I don't have anything to do until soundcheck anyway." The mystery person spoke.

It was then that you looked up and saw Jake Kiszka was the one helping you clean up your mess. You quickly averted your eyes and went back to folding the remaining shirts.

As you guys finished cleaning up the mess Jake picked up the box that fell just moments ago. "I realized I never introduced myself. I'm Jake."

You found it funny that he felt the need to introduce himself to you. It was his band you were selling merch for. But at the same time, you enjoyed the fact that he didn't expect everyone to know who he was.

"I'm Y/N." You introduced yourself back to him.

"Well Y/N, show me where you're taking these boxes." Jake spoke as he grabbed another one from the pile you set down earlier.

"Oh, that's okay. You don't have to help. It's my job anyway." You protested.

"No, I insist. It feels weird watching everyone lug things around in the heat. I want to help."

Even though the venue was directly across from the ocean and you had the ocean breeze it was no match for the humidity. It made the whole world feel like a giant sauna. You showed Jake the way to the merch table, neither one of you speaking the whole walk there.

"Are those the medium shirts? Could you set those down right there?" You asked pointing between the boxes labeled small and large.

"Wow, you have a whole system for this." Jake laughed as he set down the boxes.

"Well I've seen how crazy it gets. Especially when doors first open. I figured if I have all the boxes labeled and ordered by size it would make things easier." You grabbed a large shirt and pinned it to the wall behind the tent, so fans could see the design.

"And thank you again for helping me. You know you didn't have to."

"Y/N, I've known you for roughly ten minutes and you've already apologized three times."

You turned around to see Jake sitting in one of the foldable chairs behind the table.

"Sorry." You started. Mentally slapping yourself once you realized you apologized again. "I just don't want to hold you up. You probably have better things to do then help carry merch boxes."

"Like what? Go back to the bus and listen to Sam and Josh scream at each other while Danny tries to calm them down? No thanks, I'd rather be here with you."

You felt you face heat up when he said he'd rather be here with you then in an air-conditioned bus with his band. "So, who actually makes the decisions in the band?" You asked as you hung up the sign listing all the prices.

"We all have an input in everything we do. But Josh usually ends up with the final say. Only because he can scream louder than any of us. He's like a small child, sometimes you just have to let him scream it out. Eventually he tires himself out."

You laughed at the idea of Josh screaming like a toddler while the rest of the band ignores him.

"I have to go back to the trailer for the last boxes. Do you want to come?" You asked.

"Sure." Jake stood up and followed behind you. That was until you felt him tap your shoulder and yell "race you back to the trailer." To which he then took off in front of you.

You ran up to the trailer completely out of breath. "That's not fair. You had a head start." You panted.

"I'm sorry. Would you like a head start on the way back?" He asked as he grabbed a box.

"No, because I'd like to not die of heat stroke. And knowing me I'll trip and hurt myself with these boxes."

"Okay we'll walk our way back then." Jake said walking next to you.

Once you got back to the tent Jake help you set up the remainder of the merch. You talked for a while until you heard his phone go off.

"Crap." He said pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I have to go. Josh is looking for me. We have soundcheck in 2 minutes."

"That's okay. Go. Thanks for all your help today."

"Meet me by the trailer after the show and I'll help you clean all of this up." He said as he put his phone back in his pocket.

"You don't have to do that. Don't you want to go out with the rest of the guys after the show?" You questioned.

"Nah, I have all summer to do that. You're only on tour with us until the beginning of June." Jake smiled.

Before you even had a chance to reply, let alone process what was just said, he took off running towards the stage.