Tycoon Actor C525 (Patreon)

The crowd inside Allegiant Stadium was absolutely hyped, even though it was still early. Any experienced concertgoer knew the main act wouldn't hit the stage for at least two hours or more. But that didn't make the wait any easier.

Random screams echoed through the massive 65,000-seat venue every few minutes—pure, unfiltered excitement.

The organizers knew they were walking a tightrope. They had hours to fill before Lucas took the stage, and if they screwed this up—let the energy die or drag things out too long—social media would roast them alive. Worse, it could hurt Lucas's image.

So they did the smart thing: keep the momentum rolling with guest performers.

The lights dimmed. The LED screens exploded to life.

And out walked Marshmello.

The stadium erupted.

"OH MY GOD, IT'S MARSHMELLO!"

"THIS IS INSANE!"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?!"

The bass dropped hard, shaking the entire stadium. Marshmello stood behind his DJ console, hands flying across the mixer with practiced precision. The massive helmet reflected stage lights in every direction, creating this almost hypnotic effect.

"This beat is SICK!"

"Let's GOOO!"

Even though most of the crowd was itching for Lucas to appear, seeing Marshmello live was still a huge deal. The guy was a global superstar in his own right.

The lights pulsed with every beat—strobes, lasers, colors washing over the crowd in massive waves. It was a show within a show.

Behind the helmet, Christopher felt goosebumps all over his arms as he performed. His hands never stopped moving across the equipment, but his eyes scanned the sea of people in front of him.

'Lucas is on another level,' he thought. 'I've never seen a crowd this locked in before the main act even shows up.'

Sure, he was Marshmello. He'd sold out arenas worldwide. The crowd's reaction made sense. But he could feel it—these weren't just general music fans. These were Lucas Knight die-hards. And they brought that intensity to everything.

That was the thing about real fans. They didn't just show up for their idol. They showed up for the entire experience. They vibed with the opening acts, supported the guest performers, turned the whole night into something bigger than one person. It was a kind of loyalty that lifted everyone around it. They weren't waiting passively—they were participating. Building energy that would peak the moment Lucas stepped on stage.

Marshmello leaned into his mic, his signature line cutting through the noise. "Who's ready to feel good?!"

The roar was deafening. Lights exploded across the stadium.

Then the beat shifted. Mellowed out. Building toward something.

The screens changed—graphics flashing, hinting at what was coming next.

A group of figures emerged from the wings, stepping into the spotlight one by one.

The opening notes of a familiar song started playing—but remixed, layered with Marshmello's signature production style.

Recognition swept through the crowd like wildfire.

"Wait—is that BTS?!"

"OH MY GOD, IT IS!"

The seven members—Jungkook, Jimin, RM, V, Jin, Suga, J-Hope—stood center stage, each holding a mic, dressed in vibrant, coordinated outfits that perfectly matched the energy of the song.

The beat dropped.

"'Cause I, I, I'm in the stars tonight..."

The crowd lost their minds.

Almost everyone in the stadium knew this song. "Dynamite" had blown up not just in Asia but worldwide—catchy as hell, all English lyrics, impossible not to sing along to.

And now, tens of thousands of voices joined in, singing at the top of their lungs.

The energy was unreal. Fans jumping, hands in the air, phones recording every second.

Some people were already crying. Not because Lucas had performed yet—but because the experience alone was worth every penny they'd spent on tickets.

---ᕙ⁠(⁠ ⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠ ⁠)⁠ᕗ---

Inside one of Allegiant Stadium's private suites, Lucas and Taylor were doing vocal warm-ups, preparing for their appearance later in the night. Lucas ran through scales quietly, Taylor humming beside him, both of them focused.

Jennifer sat nearby, offering quiet support, her presence calming.

The HBO Max crew was there too, cameras rolling. This was part of the deal—behind-the-scenes footage of the world tour for the documentary and streaming broadcast.

Neil stood off to the side, watching the live feed on a monitor. The camera showed the massive crowd inside the stadium, then cut to an aerial shot revealing thousands more people gathered outside, watching on big screens set up in the plaza.

His chest tightened.

'This is really real,' He thought, 'The kid's actually reached this far.'

He was still processing it. Sixty-five thousand people inside. Thousands more outside. All here for Lucas.

It made the scale of Lucas's fame undeniable. In less than a decade, he'd become a global icon in both music and film. It was almost unbelievable.

"Mr. Lamb, we're ready to start your interview."

Neil turned. One of the HBO Max crew members was gesturing toward another room.

He nodded. "Yeah, let's do it."

---ᕙ⁠(⁠ ⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠ ⁠)⁠ᕗ---

A few minutes later, Neil sat in front of a camera, a director positioned behind it, an interviewer across from him with a warm, professional smile.

"Thank you for taking the time to do this," the interviewer said.

"It's part of the deal," Neil said with a slight grin. "But honestly, I'm grateful for the chance. I've been behind the scenes for years. Nice to actually talk about it openly."

"Well, we appreciate it." The interviewer glanced at her notes. "First of all, congratulations. The concert's already a massive success."

Neil nodded. "Thanks."

"How does it feel?" she asked. "You've been Lucas's manager for a long time. Seeing his first world tour kick off like this—are you happy with how it's going?"

Neil's smile widened. "I'm more than happy. I'm honestly kind of blown away." He gestured toward the monitor showing the live feed. "Sixty-five thousand people out there, all here for one guy. That's incredible and surreal."

The interviewer chuckled. "You sound proud of him."

"I am," Neil said without hesitation.

"When you first became his manager, did you imagine Lucas would get this big?"

The question made Neil pause. His mind went back to 2010—meeting Lucas for the first time, a young actor just starting to gain recognition for playing Arthur in Inception. Back then, top talent managers were circling him like sharks. But Lucas had chosen him.

A warm feeling spread through his chest.

"When I became Lucas's manager, I always believed he'd make it," Neil said slowly. "I thought, 'This kid's got what it takes to succeed in Hollywood.' But this?" He shook his head. "I never imagined he'd get this big."

The interviewer nodded, jotting something down. "Speaking of 'big,' have you seen the recent articles? Some major outlets are comparing Lucas to Michael Jackson. Some say he's already at that level. Others say he's got the potential but still has a long way to go. What's your take?"

Neil thought carefully before answering. "Michael Jackson was on a whole different level of fame. I don't know if anyone will ever reach that again, honestly. Back then, people relied on TV, radio, live performances—and MJ still became a global phenomenon." He paused. "I'm not an expert on whether Lucas has hit that level yet. But if people are even comparing him to the legend? That tells you how far he's come."

The interview continued, Neil's answers thoughtful and genuine, painting a picture of an artist who'd defied every expectation.

---ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ---

Meanwhile, as Neil sat for his interview and the opening acts lit up the stage, a group of rising artists gathered in the VIP green room—a spacious lounge backstage with plush couches, catering tables, and monitors showing the live performance.

This was their big break. Getting invited to perform at what was probably the most anticipated world tour of the decade? That didn't happen every day.

Five artists sat scattered around the room, some chatting nervously, others glued to the screens showing Marshmello and BTS tearing it up on stage.

Benson Boone sat on one of the couches, looking calm on the outside but buzzing with nerves on the inside. He'd been a Lucas Knight fan for years—studied his songs, analyzed his vocal runs, admired his songwriting. And now he was here, about to perform at Lucas's world tour.

It felt surreal.

As someone who leaned heavily into romance and idealism in his own music, Benson had always connected with Lucas's love songs. Sure, Lucas had heartbreaking tracks too—some of them absolutely devastating—but his romantic side? That's what Benson admired most. Especially the whole Lucas and Jennifer love story. It was like something out of a movie.

He glanced around the room and noticed a girl sitting nearby, just as quiet as him. She looked reserved, maybe a little nervous. Definitely more introverted.

Benson cleared his throat, then immediately regretted it. Too awkward. But the girl sitting a few feet away had glanced up, so now he was committed.

"Uh—hey," he said. "I'm Benson."

She looked up from her phone, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Olivia."

"You performing tonight?"

"Yeah." She paused. "I keep thinking they're gonna realize they invited the wrong person."

Benson let out a breath. "Oh my god, same. Like someone's gonna walk in with a clipboard and be like, 'Sorry, we meant the other Benson.'"

Olivia smiled—small, but genuine. "I've been rehearsing the same three songs for two weeks straight. I still don't feel ready."

"How do you even prepare for sixty-five thousand people?" Benson said, leaning forward slightly. "Like, I've played in some small venues, but this is..."

"Terrifying," Olivia finished.

"Yeah."

They both went quiet, watching BTS command the stage on the monitor.

"So… what is it you usually write?" Benson asked, his words cutting through the stillness.

"Messy breakup songs," Olivia said without hesitation. "The kind where you're mad and sad at the same time and you don't know what to feel."

"Raw stuff," Benson said.

"Yeah. That's kinda my thing." She glanced at him. "What about you?"

"I write about hope, mostly," Benson said. "Like, love that feels bigger than yourself. Even when it hurts."

"So you're an optimist."

"I guess," Benson said with a slight smile. "I've only got a few songs out there, but that's what feels right to me."

Olivia nodded. "I tried writing hopeful love songs early on. They all sounded forced."

"Same problem, opposite direction," Benson said. "I can do loss and grief—missing someone. But the angry, bitter heartbreak stuff? It doesn't work when I try."

"That's literally all I write," Olivia said. "The messy, angry, 'I-hate-you-but-I-miss-you' feelings. It's what I know." She paused, watching the stage on the monitor. "But Lucas does everything. 'Perfect' feels so real. Then 'Let Her Go' just destroys you. And you believe him either way."

"Yeah," Benson said quietly. "How does he switch like that?"

It was a genuine question. Switching styles technically wasn't that hard—change the melody, adjust the production, alter your vocal delivery. But emotional authenticity? That was different. Audiences could tell when an artist was outside their element, when the feeling didn't match the voice. A romantic trying to sound jaded came off hollow. Someone guarded trying to sound vulnerable felt forced.

Lucas didn't have that problem. Every emotion he sang about felt lived-in, real. That kind of range was rare.

On the screen, BTS finished their final song. The crowd's roar was deafening even through the monitor.

Soon, it was time for the rising artists to take the stage. One by one, they went out—first, second, third.

Only Benson and Olivia remained in the green room, waiting for the others to finish. They both did vocal warm-ups, drank water, trying to stay loose.

Makeup artists hovered around them, doing final touch-ups.

Then it was Benson's turn.

"Break a leg," Olivia said.

Benson nodded, took a breath, and walked toward the stage entrance.

The moment he stepped out from the wings, the sheer scale of it hit him like a wall. Sixty-five thousand people. The noise was overwhelming—cheers, screams, the hum of anticipation.

His chest tightened. Nerves flooded through him.

But at the same time, his eyes widened with excitement. He was actually here.

Part of him worried the crowd wouldn't care—that they'd just be waiting for him to finish so Lucas could come out. But another part of him felt alive, fueled by the energy radiating from the stands.

He sat down at the piano, adjusted the mic, and started playing.

"Sunday mornings were your favorite..."

His voice carried across the stadium, soft at first but steady.

"I used to meet you down on Woods Creek Road..."

The crowd had been restless, talking amongst themselves, waiting for the main act. But as Benson sang, something shifted. People started paying attention. Conversations faded. Eyes turned toward the stage.

Back in the green room, Olivia watched on the monitor. She'd been trying to stay composed, but as she listened to the lyrics, her eyes started to glisten.

The line hit her hard: "I'm still holdin' on to everything that's dead and gone, I don't wanna say goodbye, 'cause this one means forever..."

It was catchy. But mostly, it was heartbreaking.

By the time Benson finished, his own eyes were wet. He'd gotten lost in it—thought about his grandma, the person he'd written it for.

He stood, gripping the mic. "That song's a tribute to my grandma. I hope you appreciated it."

He bowed, not expecting much. After all, he wasn't who they came to see.

But the applause came anyway—loud, genuine, filling the stadium.

His eyes widened in shock.

"You did great, kid!"

"I'm gonna remember that song!"

"Beautiful, man!"

Overwhelmed, Benson wiped his eyes and bowed again. As the lights followed him offstage, he spotted Olivia waiting near the wings.

He gave her a warm smile and a nod.

She smiled back. "That was beautiful. And really sad."

"Thanks." Benson's voice was still shaky. "You're up next."

"Yeah." Olivia took a breath. Before, she'd been terrified. But now? After seeing how Benson had won them over, she felt ready.

Soon enough, it was her turn.

The lights followed her as she stepped onto the stage, guitar in hand.

This time, the crowd wasn't impatient. They'd just seen what Benson could do. They were willing to listen.

Olivia started singing.

"I got my driver's license last week, just like we always talked about..."

The song was raw. Heartbreak laid bare. And it resonated—especially with the girls in the audience who'd been through their own messy breakups.

Some people in the crowd were already thinking, 'Is this girl the next Taylor Swift or what?'

---ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ---

Inside the VIP suite, Taylor leaned forward, eyes glued to the screen.

"Lucas, where did you find her?"

Lucas glanced over. "Spotify, actually. I was just scrolling through new artists and her stuff stopped me cold. Figured she deserved a shot at something bigger."

"She's incredible," Taylor said, still watching Olivia perform. "I mean, that songwriting—it's so raw. She's not holding anything back."

"Yeah, I'm thinking about recommending her to Warner Records," Lucas said casually.

Taylor's head snapped toward him. "Wait, no. Don't do that."

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because I want her at Republic," Taylor said, her tone completely serious now. "I'm gonna talk to her after this. See if she's interested."

Lucas smiled. "You really want to poach her before I even make the pitch?"

"It's not poaching if I get there first," Taylor shot back. Then her expression softened. "But seriously, Lucas—she belongs at Republic. Monte and Lucian actually get artists like her. They gave me creative freedom when I needed it most. And I think she and I could work together. Maybe write something, collaborate. I don't know, I just... I see so much of myself in her."

Lucas considered that. Taylor wasn't wrong. Republic had been good to her. And if Olivia was a confessional songwriter in the same vein as Taylor, it made sense.

"Alright," Lucas said. "But if you're going after her, I'm still making my pitch. Biggest deal wins."

Taylor groaned. "You're a literal billionaire. How is that fair?"

"Billionaire on paper," Lucas corrected. "Most of it's tied up in assets. I'm not exactly swimming in liquid cash."

"Still a billionaire," Taylor muttered.

Jennifer, who'd been quietly watching the whole exchange, finally chimed in with a smirk. "You know, a bigger deal's nice and all, but have you considered that Olivia might just be a massive Taylor Swift fan? She might pick you purely because she idolizes you."

Taylor's eyes widened. She grabbed Jennifer's hand. "Oh my god. You're right. She's probably been listening to my albums since she was a kid."

"Exactly," Jennifer said, looking way too smug. "Forget the cash—if she’s a fan, you’ve already won her over."

Lucas shook his head, smiling. "Alright, you got me there. If she's a Swiftie, you've got the upper hand."

But honestly, from everything he'd just heard—Olivia's songwriting style, the emotion in her performance, the way she wore her heart on her sleeve—she was absolutely a Taylor fan.

Taylor was already mentally rehearsing her pitch. She genuinely valued talent like this. Raw, honest, and fearless. Olivia had all of it.

"Alright, I'm gonna excuse myself for a bit," Lucas said, standing up suddenly.

Jennifer and Taylor both looked up, surprised.

"Our performance is in like twenty minutes," Taylor said. "Where are you going?"

"Just hitting the restroom real quick."

Both women nodded, not questioning it further.

What they didn't know was that Lucas had quietly gestured to a small HBO crew waiting near the door. They followed him down a back hallway, away from the main production team.

They slipped into a prep room. Inside, a simple outfit was laid out—jeans, a black hoodie, and a plain white mask.

Lucas turned to the camera. "So this is my biggest secret in the music world." He picked up the mask. "Lucid."

He put it on.

The HBO crew had been briefed beforehand—this reveal was part of the documentary. But seeing it happen in real time still hit different. The interviewer cleared his throat.

"You've been hiding this identity for years now. Why create an alter ego in the first place?"

Lucas adjusted the mask. "I wanted to release music without the Lucas Knight name attached. As Lucid, I can experiment without worrying about what people expect from 'Lucas Knight.'"

The interviewer nodded. "Then why reveal it now? Why expose your biggest secret for this documentary?"

Lucas smiled behind the mask. "It was never gonna stay a secret forever. I'd rather tell the story myself instead of having it leaked."

What he didn't say was the strategic calculation behind it. He wanted the documentary to be unmissable—something that would drive subscriptions to Max and give Warner Bros. leverage in the streaming wars against Netflix and Disney+.

An exclusive revelation like this? That's what made content valuable. But at the same time, he genuinely felt it was time. Secrets had expiration dates, and controlling the narrative was better than letting TMZ break the story.

---

Minutes later, Lucas—now fully dressed as Lucid—walked out from the wings. The crowd looked confused at first, murmuring amongst themselves. Then Marshmello appeared beside him, and confusion turned to excitement.

Together, they performed several Lucid tracks—"Heaven," "Keep Going"—keeping the energy high for about thirty minutes.

When they finally returned backstage, Christopher pulled off his helmet, grinning wide.

"Man, this is insane. The main artist pretending to be a rising act at his own concert? That's legendary."

Lucas laughed, pulling off the mask. "Yeah, it's pretty ridiculous."

"If I could pull this off at my own shows, I totally would," Christopher said, shaking his head. "But I'm Marshmello. You're Lucas Knight. You've got a face people know and a secret identity they don't. Me? I'm already the secret identity. There's no other layer for me to hide behind."

Lucas was about to respond when his eyes widened. "Oh crap. My duet with Taylor's in like ten minutes."

He bolted toward the dressing room, Christopher's laughter echoing behind him.

---V⁠●⁠ᴥ⁠●⁠V---

"I'm back."

Jennifer and Taylor both turned. Lucas was slightly out of breath, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"You've been gone for half an hour!" Taylor said. "What took so long?"

"Just handled some business," Lucas said, trying to sound casual.

Taylor didn't press. She had no idea he'd just performed as a "rising artist" at his own concert.

But Jennifer knew. She pulled him aside, lowering her voice. "You performed as Lucid? At your own show?"

Lucas sighed. "It's part of the Max documentary. I had to."

Jennifer's eyes narrowed. "We're talking about this later."

"Yeah, I figured."

Before he could say more, the makeup artist swooped in, dabbing his face with powder. The wardrobe team made last-minute adjustments to his outfit.

Then it was time.

Lucas and Taylor walked toward opposite sides of the stage—Lucas entering from stage left, Taylor from stage right.

The moment they stepped out, the stadium exploded.

"OH MY GOD, IT'S LUCAS!"

"TAYLOR! TAYLOR! I LOVE YOU!"

"THEY'RE DOING SHALLOW! THEY'RE REALLY DOING IT!"

"I'M GONNA CRY, OH MY GOD!"

"THIS IS THE BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE!"

Screams layered on top of screams, the noise deafening.

Lucas grabbed the mic, waiting as the opening piano notes of "Shallow" began—soft and delicate.

He sang first, his voice cutting through the roar effortlessly.

"Tell me something, girl... are you happy in this modern world?"

The crowd went absolutely wild.

"Or do you need more? Is there something else you're searching for?"

Taylor stepped forward, her voice blending with his seamlessly.

"I'm falling... in all the good times I find myself longing for change..."

The two of them moved across the stage, the chemistry undeniable, their voices weaving together perfectly.

This was the duet from A Star Is Born—the song that had captured countless hearts.

And now, they were performing it live for sixty-five thousand people.

The stadium felt like it might shake apart from the sheer energy.

Taylor sang her verse, pouring everything into it.

"Tell me something, boy... aren't you tired trying to fill that void?"

"Or do you need more? Ain't it hard keeping it so hardcore?"

Lucas answered, their voices intertwining as the song built toward the iconic chorus.

The lights pulsed. The crowd sang along, arms raised, phones recording every second.

This was legendary.

Afterwards, they moved into their individual songs—sometimes Lucas featured on Taylor's tracks, sometimes she joined his.

By the end of their set together, they performed their brand-new duet: "Little Talks."

The moment the first notes hit, the crowd erupted.

"WAIT, IS THIS NEW?!"

"I'VE NEVER HEARD THIS BEFORE!"

"OH MY GOD, A NEW SONG!"

••••••▼⁠・⁠ᴥ⁠・⁠▼•••••

After about an hour, Taylor's part wrapped up. She waved to the crowd, beaming.

"Thank you so much, Las Vegas! It's been an honor performing with Lucas again tonight. And you know what? Next time, he's coming to my concert."

Lucas grinned. "I'll be there."

The crowd went wild. Many of them were fans of both artists, and seeing them support each other like this—promising future collaborations—made the whole night feel even more special.

As they walked offstage together, Lucas caught his breath. "That was incredible. Thanks for doing this."

Taylor smiled, still riding the high. "Are you kidding? That was so fun. We need to do it more often."

"Anytime," Lucas said.

After a quick break, Lucas returned to the stage alone.

The lights came up. The crowd roared.

He launched into a brand-new song—"The Shade."

The unfamiliar melody caught people off guard at first, but within seconds, they were hooked. It was fresh, different, smooth. The vibe was laid-back and nostalgic, and the crowd swayed along, completely absorbed.

From there, Lucas moved through his catalog—"Let Her Go," "Yellow," "Viva la Vida," all the songs people came to hear.

He took breaks every thirty minutes or so, keeping the energy high but pacing himself.

Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, Lucas finished his last scheduled song.

The crowd erupted in applause, cheering, screaming. They'd had the time of their lives.

But as the applause started to fade, the murmurs began.

"Is that it?"

"Wait, is he coming back?"

"There's gotta be an encore, right?"

They wanted more. But Lucas had been performing for hours. They couldn't really complain—they'd gotten an incredible show. Still, the hope lingered.

People waited, watching the stage expectantly.

Then, to their shock, the lights came back up.

Lucas walked out from the wings again—but this time, he wasn't alone.

Jennifer was with him, hand in hand.

The stadium went silent for a beat, confused.

Then Jennifer sat down at the piano.

Her fingers touched the keys—simple notes, soft and catchy, filling the massive space with an intimate warmth.

The crowd lost it.

Screams. Cheers. People grabbing their friends, pointing at the stage.

But the noise died down as Lucas began to sing.

"When the moon is in the sky, I only think of you..."

He looked at Jennifer, his gaze soft, affectionate.

"Talked to you inside my head, what am I supposed to do?"

He sat beside her on the piano bench, taking her hand as she continued playing.

"Stars are fading now, in the midnight blue..."

Jennifer leaned into his shoulder, smiling.

The whole stadium felt it—this wasn't just a performance. It was real. Raw. Romantic.

Then they sang together, voices blending perfectly.

"Hope love finds me, somewhere close to you..."

Couples in the audience held each other closer. Some were crying. Others just swayed, caught up in the moment.

Camera operators captured it all—fans singing along, couples embracing, people wiping tears from their eyes.

Lucas continued, his voice gentle but clear.

"Talk your numbers off my phone, memories fade away..."

The romantic atmosphere blanketed the entire stadium. It was intimate despite the sixty-five thousand people watching.

When the song finally ended, Lucas and Jennifer stood together, still holding hands.

The applause was deafening.

People cheered, screamed, clapped until their hands hurt.

Perfect ending—or so they thought.

But then Lucas and Jennifer separated, and the stage crew rushed out for a quick changeover. Within minutes, someone new sat at the piano.

Marshmello.

The crowd went absolutely wild.

The DJ—known for electronic beats and mixing decks—was sitting at a piano.

He started playing. Simple, beautiful notes.

The stadium erupted again. People didn't know how many more surprises they could handle. Their throats were raw from screaming, but none of that mattered now.

They wanted every second of this.

Lucas walked back out, holding a single cheap rose—the kind you'd buy at a gas station. He approached Jennifer with a grin.

He started singing.

"You're the one for me, oh pretty darling, you're all I see..."

He offered her the rose. She took it, smiling.

"Ain't nowhere else I would rather be than in my angel's hands..."

They began to slow dance, right there on stage in front of sixty-five thousand people.

"The sun don't shine when you turn to me and say goodbye..."

Lucas spun her gently.

"But girl, you oughta know... that it clears up when you show up..."

He pulled her close.

"And put your lips to mine..."

They kissed—quick, tender, real.

The crowd lost it. Screaming, cheering, some people crying.

It was romantic as hell.

---V⁠●⁠ᴥ⁠●⁠V---

Up in the VIP suite, Taylor had been talking with Olivia, discussing music and songwriting. But the performance on stage caught her attention.

She stared at the screen, arms crossed. "Ugh. I'm so jealous right now."

She wasn't serious—mostly. She was happy for them. But still. Watching two people that in love, showing it off to the whole world?

"Me too," Olivia said, sighing. "That's like... couple goals. And I'm just sitting here single."

Taylor laughed. "Right? How about we channel this into a song?"

Olivia's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah. Like, watching your dream guy be all romantic with someone else? That could be brutal and catchy."

"Yeah," Taylor said, ideas already forming. "Something bitter but also kind of hopeful? Like, 'I want what they have but I'm stuck watching from the sidelines.'"

"I love that," Olivia said, already thinking through melodies in her head.

While they brainstormed, Lucas and Jennifer finished the song.

This time, it really was the end.

Lucas grabbed the mic, still holding Jennifer's hand. "Las Vegas, you've been incredible tonight. Seriously. This is a night I'll never forget. Thank you for being here, for singing with us, for making this the best first show I could've asked for."

The crowd roared.

Jennifer stepped forward, voice soft but clear. "Thank you for letting us share this with you. Nights like this—they remind us why we do what we do. You all made this so special."

The applause was deafening.

Lucas raised his arm, waving. "Goodnight, Vegas! We love you!"

The lights dimmed. The crowd kept cheering, even as Lucas and Jennifer walked offstage together.

The first concert of the Knight Lights World Tour was officially over.

---◖⁠⚆⁠ᴥ⁠⚆⁠◗---

Within minutes, social media exploded—Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, everywhere.

@sadgirlsclub: "I JUST SAW LUCAS KNIGHT AND TAYLOR SWIFT PERFORM SHALLOW LIVE AND I'M STILL CRYING"

@taylurking: "Marshmello on PIANO?! At a Lucas Knight concert?! This night was unreal"

@bri_cant_even: "Lucas and Jennifer's finale was the most romantic thing I've ever witnessed. I'm not okay 😭"

@literally_sobbing: "Benson Boone and Olivia Rodrigo absolutely killed it. Rising stars fr. Keep your eyes on them."

@knight_in_vegas: "Taylor and Lucas together is everything. Their chemistry is insane. I need more collabs ASAP"

@concert_chaos_123: "They kept surprising us all night. Every time we thought it was over, they gave us MORE. Best concert I've ever been to, hands down."

As fans continued losing their minds across every platform, the media quickly turned it into a major topic:

Variety: "Lucas Knight's World Tour Opener in Las Vegas Sets New Standard for Live Performances – Surprise Guests, New Songs, and a Romantic Finale Steal the Show"

Rolling Stone: "Knight Lights Tour Kicks Off with a Bang: Taylor Swift, Marshmello, and an Emotional Performance That Left 65,000 Fans Speechless"

Billboard: "Lucas Knight Proves He's the Total Package – Opening Night in Vegas Features Chart-Topping Hits, Rising Stars, and the Most Romantic Moment in Concert History"

Entertainment Weekly: "From BTS to Marshmello to That Unforgettable Lucas-Jennifer Finale – Las Vegas Got the Concert Event of the Decade"

People were still processing what they'd just witnessed. Some were rewatching clips on their phones even though they'd been there in person. Others sat in traffic leaving the stadium, replaying moments in their heads, unable to stop grinning.

This wasn't just another concert. This was the kind of night people would talk about for years.

And Lucas had thirty more cities to go.

✨════════════════════════════✨

⭐ MERRY CHRISTMAS ⭐

🎄 Happy Holidays! 🎄

✨════════════════════════════✨

Dynamite - BTS

In The Stars - Benson Boone

drivers license - Olivia Rodrigo

Hearts - Jack Zhang

In My Angel's Eyes - Ryan Peter Murphy