The #1 fan always losing ticketing war #1

Fanboy!Shane Hollander/Pianist!Ilya Rozanov（Heated Rivalry）

Shane很喜歡俄羅斯的天才鋼琴家Ilya Rozanov。

5歲的時候，Yuna讓Shane學鋼琴，8歲的時候，他比較喜歡滑冰，再也沒彈過琴，17歲的時候，女友約他去聽新人鋼琴家的出道演奏會。

那天之後，他迷上Ilya Rozanov的琴聲，但也是自從那場演奏會後，Shane再也搶不到半張門票。

北美首場公開演奏會就讓俄羅斯鋼琴家Rozanov一夜成名，帥氣的長相，幾乎撐破燕尾服的健壯身材，迷人的口音掩飾他彆扭的英文文法，以及在那他充滿爆發力的粗曠演奏下，澄澈脆弱的孤寂音色。

Rozanov成名的第二年開始北美巡迴演出，Shane 18歲的時候，在粉絲圈有了綽號「永遠搶不到票的頭號粉絲」，這是他刷票五小時、換了三台電腦，在社群媒體上實況推播後得來的綽號。

雖然如此，但是「永遠搶不到票的頭號粉絲」仍然無一場缺席的到場支持Rozanov的演奏會，而這全都多虧了那些看他可憐的網友讓票給Shane，這只是他打冰球的高額年薪中的一毫，Shane不痛不癢。

Rozanov的北美巡迴最後一場將在蒙特婁交響廳舉辦，他將會重回第一次成名的舞台。

網路售票時間結束，Shane送出貼文，再次等待願意讓票給超可憐的「頭號粉絲」，五分鐘後，Shane收到私訊 。

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Shane從來沒有坐過VIP席，他能找到的前排的票就很不錯了，不論這個Lily615是不是詐騙，Shane都想賭賭看。

Shane如願以償，他租用的郵箱收到票，真正的演奏會門票。他去了演奏會，通過驗票，通過保全，他坐在天殺的Ilya Rozanov最後一場北美巡迴演奏會的VIP席！

那個Lily甚至沒有跟他收半毛錢，只提醒他要記得帶花束；這還用說，Shane從第二場演奏會開始（除了跟前女友一起看的那場），他每次都會帶上自己精心挑選的百合花束，沒有都一次遺漏。

演奏結束，掌聲立刻響起。Rozanov起身，面向觀眾，點頭鞠躬兩次，視線在觀眾席上停留許久，Rozanov才走下看台。Shane不想自作多情，但今天晚上他真的想說服自己，Rozanov正在看他，他的掌心都拍痛了，掌聲就這麼響了兩、三分鐘。

然後Shane的手機震動了。

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Shane並不知道Lily的"See you soon."是什麼意思，或許她是另一個Rozanov的粉絲，也可能是幕後工作人員畢竟她可以合法取得VIP票。雖然Lily不需要Shane當面致謝，但是如果Shane能夠認出來她，他一定會感激不盡。

後台走道已經擠滿人，畢竟這是北美巡迴演出的最後一場，Rozanov也還沒公佈他的下一個演出檔期。Shane驚訝地發現Rozanov面對粉絲的時候比新聞採訪裡更親切，他問候每一個人，收下每一份禮物與花束，以及簽名。天哪，簽名！Shane根本沒想到會來後台，他完全忘了帶專輯，後悔不已，但至少今天能見到Rozanov本人已經超乎預期了。

走道上一個褐色捲髮的美麗女性一直盯著Shane，她的目光並未感到不適，反而彷彿認出他一般，試探著注視，也許她是冰球迷，認出了Shane？

「百合花？」

Shane跟隨她的目光看向手中的花束，靦腆地笑起，「啊，是的，我一直覺得百合花很適合，每次都是選百合。」

當許多樂迷認為Rozanov更像火紅熱情的玫瑰的時候，Shane卻覺得他的音色裡醞釀著百合的高貴與純潔，但他從未真正與人談論自己作為樂迷的想法，Shane此刻訝異地為此感到害羞。

「所以你真的拿到票了，」女子露出意味深長的微笑，朝Shane伸出手，「You must be Jane. Nice to meet you.」

Shane睜大雙眼，「什麼──」

Shane不希望他作為Rozanov的樂迷同時也是NHL冰球選手而被過多關注，再加上Rozanov的女樂迷很多，所以他註冊帳號的時候，自然而然地選擇女性假名。但是他從沒想到會被認出來，她到底是怎麼—

「等等，你是怎麼──」然後Shane瞥見她胸前的工作人員牌，突然恍然大悟，「難道你是Lily嗎！」他綻放笑容，用空出的那隻手握住她，完全沒發覺她支支吾吾地否認，「我的天啊！太謝謝你的票了，我還以為這次真的沒轍了，而且居然還是VIP！我從沒想過能坐到VIP席還能──」

「你們聊得很愉快啊。」

Shane聞聲回頭，Ilya Rozanov站在他身旁。他什麼時候出現的？Shane訝異地鬆開握著工作人員的手，剛才的滔滔不絕戛然而止。Rozanov今晚穿著修身的黑色西裝，緞面的左襟劍領上別了小巧的鑽石胸針，白襯衫前繫著窄版黑領帶，垂墜黑色西裝褲下搭配黑色漆皮鞋。他的金棕色捲髮後梳，然而原本整齊的瀏海已經在激動的演奏後散落額前，銳利的淡藍雙眸正盯著Shane。

Shane被Rozanov的外貌驚豔得啞口無言。

「Ilya.」褐色捲髮的工作人員開口。

「Svetlana.」Rozanov沒有轉向她，反而直盯Shane繼續說話，「你沒有欺負我忠實的粉絲吧。」

「我為什麼要欺負『你親愛的Jane』呢？」Svetlan滑到Shane身邊，面對Rozanov，湊到Shane身邊耳語，「你肯定有很多話想對Ilya說吧，Jane。」

Shane慌慌張張地朝Rozanov遞出花束，「呃，我，這是給你的。」Rozanov立刻接過，Shane無視他擦過自己手背的感覺。

Rozanov看向手裡的花，視線停留許久，抬頭看向Shane的時候面露訝異。

Shane忍不住咬了下唇，思緒在他腦海中像蕭邦練習曲25第11號奔流，「我沒想到今天會看到你我很抱歉沒有帶到專輯希望下次還有機會讓你簽名你今天的演出依然很棒我真的真的非常喜歡你的音樂我會繼續支持你。」

Shane接著彷彿差點窒息般喘氣，眼前的鋼琴家與工作人員都愣在原地看著他，然後Shane突然感覺腦中有條鋼琴弦斷裂，「我很期待你下次的演出！」他扔下這句話，轉身跑出後台通道。

This fic was inspired by the prompt: You lose the ticket war every time and never manage to grab any merch, but your bias remembers you.

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Shane was deeply enamored with the Russian piano prodigy, Ilya Rozanov.

At the age of five, Yuna had started Shane on piano lessons. By eight, however, he had found his true passion on the ice and never touched the piano again. It wasn't until he was seventeen that his girlfriend at the time dragged him to a debut concert for a rising new pianist.

From that day on, Shane became obsessed with the sound of Ilya Rozanov's piano. Yet, ever since that very first concert, he had seemingly been cursed, never again managed to snag a single ticket on his own.

The Russian pianist Rozanov had become an overnight sensation following his first public performance in North America. With his striking looks and a muscular physique that nearly strained the seams of his tuxedo, he charmed audiences with an accent that masked his clumsy English grammar. Beneath his explosive and raw technique, however, lay a sound that was crystal clear, fragile, and profoundly lonely.

When Shane was eighteen and Rozanov was starting his North American tour, Shane earned himself a nickname within the fandom: "The #1 Fan Who Can Never Get a Ticket". It was a title he won after live-streaming his five-hour struggle on social media, frantically switching between three computers only to end up empty-handed once again.

Despite this, the "pitiful #1 Fan" never missed a single one of Rozanov's performances. This was entirely thanks to kind-hearted netizens who took pity on him and transferred their tickets. To Shane, who earned a massive annual salary playing professional hockey, the cost was a mere drop in the bucket. He didn't feel a thing.

The grand finale of Rozanov's North American tour was set to be held at the Maison Symphonique in Montreal, marking his return to the very stage where he first rose to fame.

As the online ticket window slammed shut, Shane sent out another post, once again waiting for someone to spare a ticket for the "pitiful #1 fan". Five minutes later, he received a DM.

Jane🎹DM ME ROZ TIX

@pitifulRozNo1Fan

I won't be able to see Roz's final concert

Lost ticket war AGAIN😭

2010

lily81

L You have delivery address? Give.

J I'm sorry, who is this? And why exactly do you need my address?

L You want ticket, yes?

J Wait... a ticket? For what?

J WAIT. Are you saying you have a ticket for Rozanov's final concert?!

L Yes. Address, give now.

J Oh my goodness, hold on. First, how much are you asking for it? And second, which seating area is it?

L You ask too many things. No need to pay. It is VIP. Yes?

J YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!

J How did you even get that? Nobody ever transfers VIP tickets! And I'm sorry, but I really only buy through legal channels.

L Now you start to annoy me. Do you want to see his concert, no?

J OF COURSE I DO! It's just... I'm a bit overwhelmed. Where did this ticket come from?

L I have my ways. It is legal. I promise.

Shane had never sat in the VIP section before. Even managing to find front-row seats was usually a feat in itself. Scammer or not, Shane was willing to take the gamble on this "Lily".

His wish was granted. An authentic concert ticket arrived at his rental PO Box. He made it to the venue, passed through validation and security, and found himself sitting in a goddamn VIP seat for Ilya Rozanov's final North American tour performance!

Lily hadn't even charged him a cent, only reminding him to bring a bouquet. That went without saying. Ever since his second concert (excluding the one he attended with his ex-girlfriend), Shane had brought a meticulously chosen bouquet of lilies every single time, without exception.

As the performance concluded, thunderous applause erupted instantly. Rozanov rose, faced the audience, and bowed twice. His gaze lingered on the crowd for a long time before he finally walked off stage. Shane didn't want to be delusional, but tonight, he allowed himself to believe that Rozanov was looking directly at him. His palms stung from clapping. The ovation lasted for several minutes.

Then, Shane's phone vibrated.

L You enjoy?

L The concert.

J YES!! Oh my god, YES!!! Thank you so, so much. I really thought I wouldn't make it! 😭

J Were you there too? I'd really love to thank you in person!

L No need. And yes... I were there.

J Did you enjoy it too? Rozanov was absolutely incredible, wasn't he?!

L I enjoy what I enjoy.

L You know... VIP can go backstage. You want?

J OMG, I had no idea! I didn't know that was included! Thank you for telling me. Oh my god... I'm actually going to meet him!

L You bring flowers?

J YES, OF COURSE! I always bring flowers for him. 💐

L Good.

L See you soon.

Shane was clueless about the meaning of Lily's "See you soon." Perhaps she was just another fan, or maybe a member of the crew. It would explain how she got her hands on a VIP ticket. Although Lily hadn't asked for a face-to-face thank you, Shane felt that if he could just recognize her in the crowd, he would be eternally grateful.

The backstage corridor was already packed. It was the grand finale of the North American tour, and Rozanov had yet to announce his next schedule. To Shane's surprise, Rozanov was much warmer with his fans than in his press interviews. He greeted everyone, accepted every gift and bouquet, and even signed autographs. 

God, autographs! Shane hadn't expected to make it backstage and had completely forgotten to bring an album. He was kicking himself, though seeing Rozanov in person was already far beyond his expectations.

A beautiful woman with curly brown hair kept staring at Shane from across the hall. Her gaze wasn't uncomfortable, rather, it was a testing look, as if she recognized him. Perhaps she was a hockey fan?

"Lilies?"

Shane followed her gaze down to the bouquet in his hands and gave a shy smile. "Ah, yes. I've always thought they suited him. I pick lilies every time."

While many fans saw Rozanov as a passionate, fiery red rose, Shane felt a sense of nobility and purity brewing beneath his piano—something akin to a lily. He had never shared these thoughts with anyone, and the sudden realization made him feel unexpectedly bashful.

"So you really did get the ticket," the woman said with a meaningful smile, extending her hand. "You must be Jane. Nice to meet you."

Shane's eyes widened. "What—"

Shane never wanted to draw extra attention to himself as both an NHL player and a pianist fan. Combined with Rozanov's massive female fanbase, choosing a female name like "Jane" for his account had been a safe choice. But he never expected to be caught. How on earth did she—

"Wait, how did you—" Then, Shane caught a glimpse of the staff badge on her chest. Sudden realization hit him like a lightning bolt. "Are you Lily?!" He beamed, grabbing her hand with his free one, completely oblivious to her stuttered attempt to deny it. "Oh my god! Thank you so much for the ticket! I thought I was done for this time, and a VIP seat on top of that! I never dreamed I'd actually get to sit in VIP, and be able to—"

"You two seem to be having a lovely chat."

Shane whirled around. Ilya Rozanov was standing right beside him. When did he get there? Startled, Shane let go of the staff's hand, his excited chatter coming to a grinding halt.

Ilya was dressed in a tailored black suit. A small diamond brooch sparkled on his satin peak lapels, paired with a slim black tie over a crisp white shirt and polished patent leather shoes. His golden-brown curls were swept back, though a few stray strands, messy from the intensity of the performance, now fell across his forehead. His sharp, pale blue eyes were fixed intently on Shane.

Shane was struck speechless by the sheer magnetism of the man.

"Ilya," the curly-haired staffer spoke up.

"Svetlana." Ilya didn't turn toward her. Instead, he kept his eyes on Shane. "You aren't bullying my fan, yes?"

"Why would I bully 'your dear Jane'?" Svetlana slid over to Shane's side, facing Ilya with a smirk before whispering into Shane's ear, "You must have a lot to say to Ilya, don't you, Jane?"

Panicked, Shane thrust the bouquet toward Ilya. "Uh, I—these are for you."

Ilya accepted them immediately. Shane tried his best to ignore the sensation of Ilya's fingers brushing against the back of his hand. Ilya looked down at the flowers, his gaze lingering on them for a long time. When he finally looked back up at Shane, his expression was one of genuine surprise.

Shane couldn't help but bite his lip. His thoughts were racing like Chopin's Etude Op. 25 No. 11, a torrential storm of words crashing in his mind.

"Ididn'texpecttoseeyoutoday.I'msorryIdidn'tbringanalbum.IhopeIgetanotherchanceforasignaturenexttime.Yourperformancewasamazing.Ireallyreallyloveyourmusic.Iwillkeepsupportingyou!"

Shane took a sharp breath as if he were about to suffocate. The pianist and the staff member both froze, staring at him in stunned silence. Suddenly, Shane felt a metaphorical piano string snap in his brain.

"I'm looking forward to your next concert!" He blurted out the words, then turned on his heel and bolted out of the backstage corridor.