The hallway behind the stage was lined with heavy black curtains, clipped together with thick plastic ties and humming faintly from the bass rumble of the openers still playing their final song. The air was thick — half with excitement, half with the scent of too many bodies and energy drinks packed into the same industrial corridor. Distant cheers filtered through the walls like the venue itself was breathing.
Feral Eclipse had regrouped in the green room, which was more gray than green and clearly designed for either a hockey team or a hostage negotiation — cheap couches, a battered fridge stocked with off-brand sodas, and a table piled high with German snack food the staff had tried to theme as “American.” Thane looked at a bag labeled Cowboy Chips and muttered something about cultural misunderstandings.
Gabriel had his bass slung low across his chest, casually strumming while pacing tight circles. His tail twitched with anticipation, ears high and twitching. “This crowd’s gonna be rowdy, I can feel it.”
“You feel everything,” Mark replied, crouched in a corner with a pair of Allen wrenches and his lighting console open across two folding chairs. “You also said that about the espresso machine in our last hotel.”
“I wasn’t wrong,” Gabriel shot back. “That thing had intentions.”
Cassie was stretching her neck and humming scales quietly while Jonah bounced a drumstick off his thigh, catching it with an unconscious rhythm that had clearly taken years to perfect. Maya leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, keeping an eye on everything while pretending she wasn’t.
Rico was flipping through fan DMs on his phone, eyebrows occasionally raising in horror, amusement, or both. “Hey, anyone want to meet a guy with a Feral Eclipse tattoo that stretches across both butt cheeks? ‘Cause he’s here tonight. Row three.”
Thane sighed, looking up from his gear check. “Only if you want to sign them.”
“Nope.” Rico clicked the phone off and shoved it in his back pocket. “I’ve got limits.”
Emily stood nearby, wide-eyed but smiling, nervously adjusting her tour hoodie as she clutched a clipboard with the night’s setlist and logistics. “The house is completely full. Oversold. There are people standing in the back bar area just to hear the show.”
Gabriel perked up. “Wait, what’s the legal capacity here?”
“Let’s not ask that question,” Thane replied before she could answer.
A knock came at the door — two short raps, then a pause. One of the venue runners poked their head in, flushed and breathless. “Five minutes, ja? You are ready?”
Everyone looked at Thane. He gave a slow nod, stood, and rolled his shoulders once with a satisfying crack.
“Let’s go make Germany howl,” he said.
Gabriel grinned. “Hell yes.”
Cassie punched the air. “Let’s goooo!”
The whole crew moved as one, peeling out of the room and into the narrow corridor, energy simmering just below the surface, claws flexing in anticipation. Thane hung back half a step, giving Emily a reassuring nudge as they passed.
“You did great,” he said quietly.
She blinked. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You kept us from imploding. That’s everything.”
She smiled — just a little. “You’re welcome, Sound Wolf.”
Thane groaned, but couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at the edge of his muzzle as they stepped into the wings.