Meet & Greet: The Competition Winner

This was a commission for my good buddy Soul Controller, I hope you all enjoy it!

The morning of August 11th had been one of the strangest mornings Nate had ever experienced. He had fully anticipated it to be a day like any other, but it very quickly proved itself to be anything but. His cell phone was flooded with messages from his boyfriend and his closest friends, all of whom seemed to be incredibly happy about something. A quick scan of their messages brought up the name of Nate’s favorite musician, The Weeknd, along with the suggestion that Nate would be meeting him. I could only wish, he thought to himself as he settled in to properly read through his boyfriend’s messages.

Nate’s eyes bulged as he took in the image attached to the most recent message. It was a screenshot of The Weeknd’s website, more specifically of an article titled “Winners of the Cavanaugh Touring Productions Meet and Greet with The Weeknd!” Underneath the title was a short list of ten names and, much to Nate’s great surprise, his name was the last one on there! The rest of his boyfriend’s messages were written in all caps and featured various chiding messages: YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME ABOUT THIS! YOU’RE SO LUCKY BUT I’M SO JEALOUS! DO YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE A PLUS ONE?

With his heart thundering in his chest, Nate brought up the webpage for himself to check its authenticity and sure enough, there was his name at the bottom of the list. “But, that can’t be possible…” he muttered to himself, fighting back against the soundtrack of his thumping heart. He hadn’t even known that The Weeknd was holding a competition for meet and greet tickets, let alone submitting an entry for himself! Somebody must have entered on his behalf, likely somebody close to him who knew of his extreme fandom for the singer, but if it hadn’t been his boyfriend then who? There didn’t seem to be any major suspects who wouldn’t want that opportunity for themselves.

After navigating through the flood of messages on his various social media channels, Nate was finally able to investigate his email inbox and one of the waiting messages immediately caught his eye. The sender was “Cavanaugh Touring Productions” (a touring company Nate hadn’t actually heard of, and he thought he was pretty well versed in these things) and the subject line identified it as containing the details of the exclusive meet and greet he had won access to. “Please tell me I’m not still dreaming,” Nate whispered as he clicked into the email and absorbed all of the information contained within. As if winning a contest he’d never entered hadn’t been enough of a shock, it would only be a week until he got to meet his musical hero!

The entirety of the next week was spent with Nate alternating between buzzing in excitement and trembling in anxiety. It would hardly be his first celebrity meet and greet but he’d never thought he’d have the chance to actually exchange words and get a picture with the man whose voice made him swoon every time without fail. There was no doubt this would be different from all his previous popstar encounters and Nate was struggling to keep his cool. He couldn’t risk embarrassing himself in front of the man, it would mortify him until the end of his days! His boyfriend wasn’t even much good at calming him down, in fact the other had been a little distant and even hostile ever since the announcement had been made. The fact that Nate wasn’t allowed to bring a plus one with him to the meet and greet definitely hadn’t helped matters there either. Oh well, Nate told himself, After this weekend we can go back to normal… provided I actually make it through the weekend. Was it crazy that he was more nervous than he had been for his final college exams?

Finally the day of the meet and greet had arrived and Nate found himself at the VIP entrance of the arena, dressed in a simple black open-collar shirt and jeans. It had taken him hours to decide on the outfit and accessories, but that was just an average day with his brain that seemed determined to overwork itself at every possible moment. Much to Nate’s relief he wasn’t the only guy there, indeed it seemed like an even split of male and female fans had been picked out as winners. Nate exchanged polite pleasantries with a few of them and was quite interested to learn that none of them ever recalled entering the competition either. “Let’s hope we’re not being scammed, eh?” he joked as they followed a staff member through the maze-like backstage area, until they were finally instructed to line up along a short corridor.

Somehow Nate had found himself at the very front of the line and so he was the first ushered into the meeting room. It was lavishly decorated, with two leather sofas dominating the room, thick purple drapes hanging from the walls and a thirty inch flatscreen playing old music videos, but it was the other man in the room that captured Nate’s attention immediately. The breath had been snatched right out of him as he regarded the singer known as The Weeknd with his very own eyes for the first time. The man was everything he had anticipated and more; how was it possible that somebody could be even more beautiful in person than they were on a screen?

The thirty-one year old singer, real name Abel Tesfaye, rose from one of the leather couches as Nate entered, with a polite smile spreading across his handsome face. The superstar was already stage ready: he wore a crisp red suit jacket with a black shirt underneath, and his pants appeared to be tailored to perfectly fit him. Although his fandom meant that Nate had been anticipating it, he was still a little surprised to discover that the singer was actually a few inches shorter than him, but the natural charisma that radiated from Tesfaye made him feel much larger in person.

“Hey man, thank you for coming to the show,” the singer greeted, taking a step forward and outstretching a hand. 

Nate did his best to control his thundering heart as he stepped forward and accepted the offer of a handshake. “I-it’s amazing to meet you,” the younger man stammered, immediately and instinctively slipping into fanboy mode. The other man’s grip was firm, and the skin-to-skin contact was enough to leave Nate weak at the knees. “I’ve always wanted to be you-- to meet you.” It was an innocent slip of the tongue (although not completely untrue, of course) but Nate’s cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment nonetheless.

To his credit, Tesfaye’s chuckle seemed good-natured rather than mocking. “Is this your first time at one of my shows?” he asked, gesturing for Nate to take a seat on the opposite leather sofa. It seemed like the meet-and-greets were more than a quick greeting and photo but Nate would actually get a couple minutes undisturbed with his musical hero. That was both exciting and actually a little nerve wracking for Nate, who was doing his best to fight back at his anxious thoughts.

“Uh, yeah. First of many, I hope,” he replied, doing his best to relax into a natural smile. “I’ve been a fan for a long time though.” Nate felt like he was going to get lost in the singer’s eyes. How could anybody’s gaze be so soulful yet sexy at the same time?

“That’s appreciated, man. I hope it’s the first of many for you too. Are there any--” The singer’s voice momentarily peaked, sounding quite unlike himself, and he broke off to clear his throat. “Woah, sorry about that. Hope it doesn’t happen during the show tonight, eh?”

“Yeah, that would probably be bad,” Nate chuckled, happy to find that he was feeling a little calmer with every passing moment. “Although I’m sure you’d still sound great.”

The singer smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “That’s nice of you to say, man.” Once again though, he didn’t quite sound like himself, although Nate noted there was still something familiar about his voice. “Damn, let me get some water.”

As the singer moved across the room to collect a bottle of water from a desk, the fan noticed that the older man had left his watch on the table. Suddenly possessed by a bold streak, Nate reached forward and grabbed it, quickly slipping it over his wrist and clicking it into place. What the hell are you doing? He had no answers for his own question; rational thought that temporarily abandoned him. Distracted by his own boldness, Nate failed to see that the pale skin around the stolen watch was beginning to darken into a caramel brown.

“Are there any songs you’re excited to perfor-- to hear?” the Weeknd asked as he returned to the sofa, holding the water bottle with both hands. Mercifully his gaze never once turned towards Nate’s hands or the table to identify that his expensive watch was suddenly being worn by his fan.

“Oh, all the usuals. Anything that gets the crowd going,” Nate replied without hesitation, impressed by how well he was handling the conversation. “There’s nothing quite like knowing everybody’s enjoying themselves, right? Getting the whole place coming alive…” It was strange, Nate was usually quite an introverted person, but the concept of hyping up a giant crowd of people no longer made him queasy with nerves. Instead he felt excited by it; he craved it, even.

As the two exchanged a few more words, the changing skin tone spread across Nate’s upper body and even began to creep up his neck towards his face. Those weren’t the only changes he was experiencing either: it was subtle, but the lines on the palms of his hands had warped and the thin digits thickened. His shoulders had broadened, as if being stretched out by a pair of invisible hands, and the flatness of his chest had been disrupted by the slight rising of pec muscles and a firmer core. Nate had never been the fondest of getting into a gym and working out, but it now appeared as if he made it there at least three times a week to keep in trim shape.

It wasn’t just Nate who was experiencing radical changes to his appearance though, as the inverse of all of his changes were happening to the man sat across from him. The singer’s skin had paled and his frame slimmed down, with his modest pecs sinking back into the flat spread of his chest. The two men were so absorbed in their conversations that they completely failed to notice the exchanging of their features - indeed it was more noticeable that The Weeknd was suddenly stumbling over his words and despite taking regular sips of water, still didn’t quite sound like his usual Canadian himself, while Nate was speaking with much more confidence.

A knock on the door signalled that their time together was up, and an intense irritation flared through Nate. Still, he supposed there were more fans to see, and he couldn’t be too selfish. The two men rose from the leather sofas and once again shook hands, but this time they were stunned by an electrical current triggered at the point of contact. It kept them completely frozen in place, their hands locked together, while their changes accelerated in a manner that was impossible for them to ignore.

Nate watched in wonder as the musician rose several inches taller, matching and then surpassing him until he stood just shy of six feet, while Nate himself had sunk to a more compact five-foot-eight. Tesfaye’s body slimmed down even further while Nate packed on a little more bulk to give him a more sturdy frame while still athletic and trim. Lower down on the singer’s body, the round cheeks that made an impact in the back of his pants flattened down while Nate’s own pants became much tighter as a result of an enhanced derriere.

By far the most evident changes though were in their faces. Not only had the pair completely exchanged skin tones, but their features were rapidly shifting to match. No amount of skincare had been able to keep Nate’s face perfect, but the faint blemishes and marks from teenage acne damage faded away into oblivion, replaced by a much smoother complexion. His brow and jawline both became stronger and his cheekbones rose, while his lips and nose altered in composition until he had the complete visage of one Abel Tesfaye, better known as The Weeknd. The shaggy hair that Nate had been growing out as of late took on a brand new life, darkening into black and reshaping into a short and perfectly maintained afro to really finalise the superstar’s look.

Across from him, the singer’s original facial features disappeared behind a transformation into the still handsome but more average features of the fan who he had been conversing with for the previous five minutes. His hair lightened a few shades to a rich brown before settling into a shaggier cut that hung around his neck. The transformation from a dark skinned Canadian crooner to a white American young man had been almost instantaneous and the differences couldn’t be more stark.

The two men retained their original clothing, but the garments were ill-fitting upon their new bodies. Thankfully this was not the case for longer, as his faded blue jeans were replaced by a pair of tailored black slacks and the red suit jacket disappeared from The Weeknd’s body only to appear upon Nate’s. Even the beat-up sneakers Nate wore weren’t immune from the transformation, warping to become a pair of leather loafers while the material of his socks deviated from simple cotton to sleek and more expensive modal fibres.

The exchanging of bodies had been incredibly thorough and within moments Nate had become a perfect physical replacement for The Weeknd, while Abel Tesfaye had adopted the appearance of one of his biggest fans. While it wasn’t clear on the surface, the changes ran deep under the surface too: Nate was cool and confident even in the face of a literally life-changing situation, while Abel was overwhelmed with sudden anxiety. Then again, such a dramatic fall from a global superstar to a complete nobody was likely to have that effect on even the hardest of men.

A second rapping upon the door snapped both men back into their new realities, and allowed them to break the physical contact. Nate’s heart continued to beat like a drum at a rock concert, but he remained perfectly calm on the surface. “Well, it was nice to meet you, man. Did you want a selfie before you go?” he asked, amused as the man he had replaced nodded meekly and pulled out his phone to snap a quick picture. The other seemed to be operating on autopilot but a close inspection revealed the confusion and even fear in the former singer’s eyes.

Escorting his former body and life out of the room, Nate then turned to greet the next fan. She was a young black woman in her twenties who wore a low-cut top and shorts that showed off her magnificent long legs. Just ten minutes ago when they had been waiting for their VIP experiences to start Nate had seen her as a pretty girl, but now he recognised her as the stunner that she truly was. He couldn’t help it if his eyes lingered on her perfect legs for several moments longer than was appropriate, or if the teasing appearance of a bra strap captured his attention. Even the flowery scents of her perfume excited him, prompting the front of his pants to tighten a little.

So I guess being The Weeknd comes with being straight, Nate realised, Not the worst trade off. He would happily sacrifice his attraction to other men if it meant he got to live the life of his favourite musician!

Besides, considering things seemed to have been perfectly exchanged between the two, it seemed clear that his boyfriend wouldn’t have to go lonely as he’d still have “Nate” going home to him. The chances were that he’d probably never even notice that there was anything different about him! As for how the former singer felt about now being exclusively homosexual… Well, that was something he’d have to adapt to, just like Nate would now adapt to being straight. Then again, that didn’t seem to be taking all that long really!

Once he had made through the queue of fans (taking a little extra time with the girls than he did with the guys), the new Abel Tesfaye psyched himself up to get on stage for the very first time. Other people might have called it a ‘once in a lifetime’ experience but Nate refused to see it that way. This was going to be his new normal, he was sure of it.

“And I know she’ll be the death of me, at least we’ll both be numb,” he sang to himself in preparation as his assistant escorted him from the meet-and-greet room up to the back of the stage where he would be fitted with his microphone transmitter. A gentle smirk settled upon his handsome face as he enjoyed the ease with which he had travelled up to that iconic falsetto. He sang with such an easy control over the vocals as if he had some sort of professional training, and it filled him with genuine excitement and pride.

Under normal circumstances the former Nate would have felt horrifically anxious about performing in front of a crowd of tens of thousands, but he was surrounded by total serenity.  He knew all of the songs by heart and he’d seen enough concert videos filmed by fans to have an awareness of the show’s staging.

Even if his fanboy knowledge failed him though, he was confident that he could style it out with ease. He was a goddamn showman and one of the best in the world at it too! After all, it had been him who performed during the Super Bowl halftime show and had the first song to last a whole year in the Billboard charts top ten.

He was The Weeknd, he could get any girl he wanted at a moment’s notice, pump out number one singles like nobody’s business and do it all while looking like he belonged on a runway. Life wasn’t just good, it was great. He was great, and never had to want for anything again!