Chapter Text
Izuku can’t help the way he beams with pride when he flashes his press pass at the ticket booth. The girl running the booth checks her list and nods that he’s good to go. Excitement buzzes in his chest as he clears the gates and looks around.
He’s never been to a festival quite this big before. Usually when Izuku's on the job, he's taking photos for indie bands and going to local punk rock shows at dive bars.
So landing a job like this is huge. He never imagined he'd get the opportunity to take photos for a global entertainment publication like Plus Ultra.
"Hey! Don't run off yet," Shouto says, catching up to him. Izuku spins around and grins.
"I'm not! I'm just taking it all in," he explains, eyes darting as Denki joins them. Another perk of working for Plus Ultra is that they were able to get him a couple of comp tickets for his friends.
Of course he'll be working, so he can't really hang out with them. But it's still pretty neat.
"Who do you have first?" Denki asks. "Because I really need to get barricade for Jirou Kyouka."
"Good luck with that, I'm sure it's already packed," Izuku laughs as he fishes the folded-up list out of his pocket. He knows several of the bands on his list for earlier in the day -bands the publication is specifically requesting him to get photos of. "First are the Wild Wild Pussycats."
"Oh man they're so weird," Denki says.
"I've heard they're good live," Shouto shrugs.
"They are! I've seen them a couple times I think," Izuku says.
"Of course you have, who in that list have you not seen live?" Denki teases, snatching the list from him. Izuku huffs and reaches for him to hand it over.
"Probably none of the bigger acts, but I doubt they're my assignments anyway," he says, just as Denki's eyes start to widen.
"What? What is it?"
Denki holds up the paper and jabs a finger at the very last slot. "You're shooting for Katsuki. Like, the fucking headliner."
"Oh," Izuku says, grimacing at the sheet. "I'm not sure if I even know anything about him."
"I'm sure you've heard him before," Denki insists. "He's always posting wild shit and he's got like, what? Four songs on the radio right now?"
"Hmm, maybe. I don't listen to a lot of pop music," Izuku sighs, but he still looks out of curiosity when Shouto holds up his phone.
It's on Katsuki's social media profile, 1.2 million followers, blue checkmark and all. Maybe he is a bit of a celebrity.
The first photo in his feed is one of him dressed only in a towel and sitting on the hood of one of his million-dollar sports cars.
"Oh yikes," Izuku says. He's never been a fan of celebrities who like to flaunt their wealth. "What's the point of that?"
"Don't know, but people go crazy for him. He's vulgar and rude and doesn't care what people think of him. And his songs are really catchy," Denki explains. Izuku isn't sure about that last part, but whatever.
Izuku doesn't have to like the music in order to take pictures of the musician.
"I heard that when he dropped his most recent album, he took a video of himself blowing it up with a stick of dynamite. You know, because it's called Dynamight," Shouto says, nudging him. "That's pretty clever I think."
"That's ridiculous actually," Izuku scoffs.
Well, maybe he doesn't have to like the person either.
Shouto slips the phone back into his pocket and mentions that he and Denki are going to head off to find a good spot for the band they want to see. That leaves Izuku with just a few minutes to head to his first assignment.
It's going to be a long day, but he's ready for it.
-
Or maybe he's not.
By the time evening rolls around, Izuku is ready to pass out. He's been on his feet all day- so he's tired, sweaty and gross.
But he still has one more act to shoot, and that's the mononymous Katsuki.
The guy seems like a piece of work based on everything Shouto and Denki have told him. And when he gets into the photo pit, he already feels a bit more out of his element. He personally witnesses not one but two instances of security guards breaking up fights over "blocking views" at the barricade.
Denki was right, people really do go crazy for him.
Some distorted electronic riff blares over the speakers and the crowd shrieks. Izuku does his best to just focus on his viewfinder.
But then Katsuki struts out onto center stage wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and orange cowboy boots. It's not the outfit that's shocking so much as it is his legs. For a moment, Izuku makes the mistake of letting himself notice how long, lean and muscular they are.
And how he's so much taller in person.
Ah, crap! It doesn't matter! Why is Izuku even looking?
"What's up, motherfuckers?!" Katsuki shouts at the crowd and everyone screams as if being addressed as a motherfucker is something worth being excited about.
Despite the way he acts, Izuku can’t help but notice the way that Katsuki has full command of the stage. He struts around, holding his microphone with this incredible air of confidence as he begins to sing.
Izuku snaps several photos. He hates the songs, but he loves the way that Katsuki moves. He’s so . . . interesting that Izuku can’t help but be taken with him. Every movement, though rehearsed, seems so natural to him. Maybe he’s been performing for a long time, or he’s just a natural. Either way, he’s very comfortable in his own skin.
After the set is over, Izuku dips out of the photo pit as soon as he can to avoid the crowds. Denki and Shouto had texted him a meet-up location so they could regroup and catch the train home together.
“Hey!” He says when he finally locates them. His ears are still ringing and his entire body is sore from standing all day, but it’s a great feeling in its own weird way.
“Holy shit, dude, what was it like being so close?!” Denki asks, gripping him by the shoulders. Izuku blinks, gripping the straps of his camera bag tighter around his shoulders.
“Close to who?” he asks.
“Uh, Katsuki? You should have seen that crowd, we could barely see the stage we were so far back,” he groans.
“It was like watching a small ant of a person,” Shouto confirms. Izuku sighs as they start walking towards the station, thinking of how exactly to word his experience of watching Katsuki through his lens.
“It was . . . Well, he's really something, that's for sure," he muses.
“Really? Is that all you have to say?”
“What? It’s true! I don’t like his music, and he seems like a diva, but he’s a great performer. I can give him that,” Izuku says.
“I can’t believe that,” Denki says, shaking his head. “I think he’s cool. I’ve had Dynamight on repeat since it dropped.”
“Ew, why?” Izuku scoffs. “It’s all just electronic, marketed garbage.”
“One man’s electronic garbage is another man’s favorite song,” Shouto says, and Izuku has to roll his eyes.
“That was almost clever,” Denki tells him.
“Whatever, I’ve just never been a fan of pop music . . . it doesn’t evoke the same amount of emotion for me. I’d much rather listen to something raw and unedited than something mass produced,” Izuku explains. “And I totally get why other people like it, it’s just not for me.”
They pause their conversation for a moment, so that they can enter the station and board the train.
“I want to see the pictures,” Denki says once they’re seated. Izuku nods and pulls his camera bag into his lap so that he can go through what he has on the camera’s preview screen.
“I literally took over a thousand pictures today,” he sighs, quickly thumbing through until he gets to the photos of Katsuki.
“That’s so fucking cool,” Denki marvels as he peers over Izuku’s shoulder. Izuku nods as they go through them, his confidence starting to waver as he realizes how much he has to go through and edit before he sends them all in. “Holy shit, look at this one.”
Denki jabs a finger towards the screen, careful not to touch it. He knows that Izuku is very protective of his camera.
Izuku stops at the picture in question and squints.
In this one, Katsuki is on his knees, belting into the microphone in his hands. It’s kind of cool because it looks like he’s screaming. His eyes are screwed shut, his mouth as wide as it can go. The black eyeliner around his eyes really emphasizes the intensity there. Up close, it's so messy and smudged from sweat.
“He’s really into it in this one,” Izuku comments, staring at it some more. He’s glad Denki stopped him because holy shit it’s quickly becoming his favorite. Now this! This is passion. It’s exactly what Izuku strives to capture in all of his photos.
“Dude, not that,” Denki snorts. “ Look.”
He points again and Izuku follows the path of his finger to . . . oh.
With the way that he’s kneeling, that oversized t-shirt he was wearing rides up a little, and the strap of his underwear is visible, stretching across his hip.
“Does that count as a wardrobe malfunction?” Shouto asks. Izuku shrugs.
“I mean, from what you have told me, it seems like it might have been intentional. He wasn’t wearing any pants for a reason, I’m sure,” he hums.
“Yeah, it’s called fashion,” Denki reminds him.
“Well it looked like he forgot to finish getting dressed,” Izuku retorts, giving Denki a small smile. Even though they don’t always agree on things when it comes to pop culture, he really does enjoy the banter he can share with his friends.
“Okay, okay, I’ll give you that,” he laughs. “When do you have to turn these in?”
Izuku slumps back in his seat and groans.
“By five a.m.,” he explains.
“Oh, gross, that’s a ridiculous window, isn’t it?” Shouto asks.
“Not for how much they’re paying me,” Izuku says, reminding himself why he agreed to this assignment in the first place. Plus Ultra is compensating him very well for his time or lack thereof. And typically Izuku likes to edit very minimally anyway.
All he needs is a few more cups of coffee and he’ll be fine.
As soon as he gets back to his apartment, he heads to his computer desk and curls up in his chair, ready to work. He’s exhausted, but it’s worth it. He tells himself that it’s all perfect anyway, because he wouldn’t be able to sleep after so much excitement!
It’s a painstaking process, but he organizes all of the bands and artists into folders and adds all of the best shots from each. He’s aware of what they’re looking for - shots for the cover of their next magazine edition. Shots that can go on their website - flashy, eye-catching.
Some decisions are harder than others, and the hardest to make by far is when he gets to the photo he’d found on the train. Izuku finds himself saving it for last and staring at it.
On one hand, it's not very flashy or glamorous. But on the other hand, it's gritty and it's real and it's different . Maybe they'll like that?
For a moment he contemplates whether or not the underwear thing will be an issue. But then he quickly throws that idea out the window when he remembers he wears far less in most of his social media posts.
Seriously, it's like the guy is clothing-averse or something!
Finally, he adds the photo to the folder and sits back in his chair. When he tries to blink, his eyes are so dry that they sting. The last thing he has to do is send them all over to Plus Ultra and he can call it a night!
Or a morning.
He is turning it in with with only an hour to spare, after all.
He's exhausted both mentally and physically, but he's satisfied.
---
Two hours later, Izuku jolts awake. Crap! He fell asleep at his desk again.
It doesn't help the fact that he'd already felt like he had been hit by a bus.
As he painfully makes the transition from his computer chair to his bed, he grabs his phone to check his email. His stomach drops into a pit when he sees one new one from Plus Ultra.
It's a very simple, straight-forward email. They chose what they were taking for their publication and indicated which ones they were rejecting.
Among the rejects is his favorite shot of Katsuki.
His heart sinks.
Maybe he had been giving the publication too much credit. Of course they wouldn't want something like that.
They want a photo where Katsuki looks flawless and glamorous so that they can continue to play a role in constructing his public image.
It sours Izuku’s mood a bit, and his lack of restful sleep only exacerbates that feeling.
Well, if they don't want it, the photo still belongs to Izuku, and he can do whatever he wants with it.
So, out of spite (and hurt pride), he opens up a new social media post and uploads the picture.
[@Midoriya_Photography: Music isn't about the costumes or the make up or how much money you make. It's about the way music makes us feel. It's raw and it's powerful. ]
And then he tags Katsuki in it. Not that he'll ever see it.
With that out of his system, he's finally able to just toss his phone aside and roll over into his bed. Now that he's comfortable, he's sure to sleep for hours.
And he does sleep for hours. Twelve more hours to be exact. Which is honestly even more disorienting than not having enough sleep. Izuku stretches and sits up, grabbing his phone to check the time.
As he stares at his lock screen, it takes him a moment to process the sheer number of notifications he has. Social media, emails, text messages, missed phone calls.
What the heck?
He heads to his call log first because his first and most panicked thought is oh shit, someone must have died! But then he sees that most of the missed calls are from Plus Ultra and a private number.
He's got at least twenty unread messages between Shouto and Denki. But the biggest source of activity comes from social media, and as soon as he clicks through to the post he finds out why.
The top comment on the photo is from a user with a little verified checkmark next to their name.
[@katsuki: take this shit down right now I look ugly as fuck ]
Izuku stares at the comment, struggling to process it at first. Because first of all, he never expected the singer to even see the post. Let alone comment something so . . . Rude.
His entire face pulls downward into a frown as his frustration begins to build. Because what the hell? Why should he take it down?
[@Midoriya_Photography: I will not be taking it down. I think it's a great photo. A musical performance shouldn't be about looking good. It's about PASSION and EMOTION.]
He groans loudly and then switches back to his texts with Denki. As expected, he's freaking out because he had seen Katsuki's comment.
Izuku to Denki : I replied! What a rude person honestly.
Before he can move onto the next thing, he gets another notification.
From Katsuki. Ugh.
[@katsuki: you can take ur fake ass bullshit and shove it. Take it down or I'll take you down.]
What the fuck?
[@Midoriya_Photography: is that a threat????]
The audacity of this guy! He probably thinks he can just say whatever the hell he wants because he's famous! It makes Izuku’s blood boil.
The next response comes through even more quickly.
[@katsuki: ITS NOT A THREAT ITS A PROMISE U FCKN NERD.]
Oh.
What.
Izuku knows he shouldn't let himself get this worked up over social media drama, but this one is really getting to him for whatever reason. Maybe it's because he really truly loves that photo and it hurts his pride a little that Katsuki hates it.
But also Katsuki is clearly an asshole.
Finally, he goes back to his call log and just as he does, his phone starts to ring with yet another call from Plus Ultra. He sighs and answers it.
"Hello?"
"Midoriya! Hi there, we've been trying to call you all day," a voice says. He's not sure who it is.
"Sorry about that! I've been sleeping," he says, opting not to add in the fact that he'd been up all night for them. So, sorry he's tired? He stays cordial of course. "Is everything okay?"
"Well, not really. See, Plus Ultra is a well respected publication in the music industry. In light of recent events, we would like to end our professional relationship with you as a photographer," she continues, and as she does Izuku can feel his entire body go numb.
"What?" Is all he can manage to say.
"We will of course still honor the contract we just completed with you - your stipend is in the mail! Please do not contact Plus Ultra after this phone call," she says.
And then hangs up.
Izuku is left staring at his phone, speechless.
This is because of his argument with Katsuki? What the hell? Well if he wasn't pissed before . . . Now, he‘s livid.
Who the heck does Katsuki think he is drumming up drama and getting Izuku fired?! Of course, Katsuki is a fucking celebrity so he can do whatever he wants and still have a job at the end of the day! It's this kind of special treatment for artists as big as Katsuki that Izuku hates most.
And it fuels him.
Maybe he's being too petty.
But he's mad!
So he goes back into his computer and finds the photos of Katsuki's set that he didn't even bother to edit- blurry shots, unflattering facial expressions, pictures where he's blinking- and he uploads as many as he can.
And then he turns off notifications.
He calls Denki next.
"Dude, what the hell is happening with your page?" Kaminari gets right to the point, not even bothering with a greeting.
"I snapped," Izuku admits.
"You had a conversation with Katsuki," he points out, as if it's an accomplishment. Izuku rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, and it got me fired," he scoffs, the word rolling uncomfortably from his mouth. He's still trying to process this Rollercoaster of events.
"Shit! Really?"
" Plus Ultra just called and said they don't want to work with me anymore," Izuku elaborates, feeling his anger start to rise again. "It's not fair! I worked so hard to get that job and now it's getting taken away just because a pop star doesn't like me?!"
"That's fucked man, I'm sorry," Denki apologizes. Izuku sighs and shakes his head.
"So then I snapped and posted more photos," Izuku says.
"Yeah, I can see that," he mutters. "Katsuki posted about you."
"He did what? Why does he care so much?" Izuku groans. "I can't have been the first person to ever post a photo of him that he doesn't like. This is ridiculous right?"
"Yeah, well, I guess this one caught his attention. That's the algorithm for ya," Denki laughs. Izuku just groans, not sure how to contain his ever-growing frustration with the situation.
He goes to pull the phone away so he can see the post in question, but as he does, his phone beeps with an incoming call from that private number again.
"Sorry I'll call you right back," he tells Denki before switching over. He clicks the new call and presses the phone to his ear again. "Hello?"
"Hey! Midoriya?"
The voice belongs to a very loud and cheerful sounding woman.
"Yes? Who is calling?"
"Hi there, nice to finally get a hold of you! I would love to make you an offer."
"An offer? For what? Who is this?" He asks again, wildly confused. Actually he's about to hang up because the vague wording makes her sound suspiciously like a telemarketer.
"My name is Ashido Mina and I'm representing UA-Z. I'm sure you've heard of us," she says, smugly. Izuku blinks.
Yeah he's heard of them, all right.
UA-Z is a popular tabloid magazine that has a reputation for publishing trashy paparazzi photos and calling it journalism. Izuku rolls his eyes.
"I don't want to be interviewed," he says, certain that they're calling to get a comment on his "feud" with Katsuki. If you could even call it that.
"Oh, I don't want an interview," Ashido laughs. "I want to offer you a job."
Izuku nearly chokes. "Excuse me, what?"
"Well, I can see you're good with a camera, you have a knack for calling out pop stars on their bullshit, and I'm sure you were just fired by Plus Ultra."
"How do you know that?" Izuku asks.
"Because I know how they operate. They don't like conflict and treat celebrities like they're untouchable gods. We don't operate that way here. Celebrities don't deserve special treatment," she assures him. And Izuku can tell that she's just playing into his own beliefs to try and persuade him.
But he's curious.
And still angry.
So he'll bite.
"All you do is post celebrities doing stuff that normal people do every day," he points out. "I'm sorry but I don't want to take pictures of movie stars getting groceries."
"Ah yeah because we're pushing the agenda that celebrities are human too! Just like us! It's great," she laughs. It's ridiculous and he doesn't have the energy to dive deep into his thoughts on why that is so not accurate or the message they give off to their readers.
"I'm sorry, I think I'll have to pass."
"Even if I said I'd like to specifically assign you Katsuki? You don't have to do any of the leg work. We do the snooping, you get the pics and then it's payday! Easy as pie. What do you say?" She pauses for a minute and then adds, "And just so you know, we have one of the best legal teams in the country. Think about it, Midoriya. We'd love to have you."
Maybe Izuku's fatal flaw is that he acts on emotions alone far too often. Or, who knows? Maybe it's his best quality.
Either way, it's the part of him that kicks in and tells him that no he doesn't need to think about it.
"Okay, I'll do it."
As they say, when one door closes another one opens.
He just has to hope this open door isn't a huge mistake.