@Aslee
The music of the current gig was loud and heavy, and it vibrated deeply throughout the entirety of the festival's vast backstage. The sun had set not long ago, first painting the sky in orange and purple and now leaving it dark. The stage lights streaked the sky and blocked out any stars. This festival, Half Moon Rising, was the premier event of the summer and boasted a large variety of bands, both ones with official releases and other underground bands. Some bands even had the opportunity to make their first appearances here– though they were limited to the daytime shows. Night time, the true blood of the festival, was reserved for those who truly deserved to be there.
Which was exactly why Alec had no idea why his band were slated to perform tonight.
Standing against the wall with a cigarette in his hand, Alec stared at the gravel and tried not to puncture the filter with one of his fangs while taking a drag. He stood at average height and average build, dressed in the grunge affair to match the act he'd found himself a part of; torn denim head to toe, big heavy boots crunching in the gravel. The anxious bouncing of his knee jingled the chain hanging from his belt loop. Where the hell are those guys? He had no idea when the set was going to end, but they were on next, and there was no sight of them. He was there, his guitar was there, he even brought his own fucking amp, but what use was a guitarist without a drummer, singer, bassist? He would be so fucked if they didn't show. This was a real festival, and they'd no doubt be pissed if one of their acts (especially one, as Alec was convinced, was a charity case) just decided to no-show for no Goddamn reason. And Alec would be there to take the fall, as always. My punishment for actually giving a shit about the band, he supposed. Fuck.
The music of the current gig was loud and heavy, and it vibrated deeply throughout the entirety of the festival's vast backstage. The sun had set not long ago, first painting the sky in orange and purple and now leaving it dark. The stage lights streaked the sky and blocked out any stars. This festival, Half Moon Rising, was the premier event of the summer and boasted a large variety of bands, both ones with official releases and other underground bands. Some bands even had the opportunity to make their first appearances here– though they were limited to the daytime shows. Night time, the true blood of the festival, was reserved for those who truly deserved to be there.
Which was exactly why Alec had no idea why his band were slated to perform tonight.
Standing against the wall with a cigarette in his hand, Alec stared at the gravel and tried not to puncture the filter with one of his fangs while taking a drag. He stood at average height and average build, dressed in the grunge affair to match the act he'd found himself a part of; torn denim head to toe, big heavy boots crunching in the gravel. The anxious bouncing of his knee jingled the chain hanging from his belt loop. Where the hell are those guys? He had no idea when the set was going to end, but they were on next, and there was no sight of them. He was there, his guitar was there, he even brought his own fucking amp, but what use was a guitarist without a drummer, singer, bassist? He would be so fucked if they didn't show. This was a real festival, and they'd no doubt be pissed if one of their acts (especially one, as Alec was convinced, was a charity case) just decided to no-show for no Goddamn reason. And Alec would be there to take the fall, as always. My punishment for actually giving a shit about the band, he supposed. Fuck.