The Spokane show had barely ended before chaos descended at the back gates.

Security was baffled. Meet-and-greet passes hadn’t even been issued for this leg of the tour—but that didn’t seem to matter to the mob of former Vandal Saints fans now waving homemade signs, elaborate costumes, and—unfortunately—at least one actual fog machine outside the venue fence.

It started with a chant:
“Let us meet the wolves! Let us meet the wolves!”

One poor security guard just blinked. “Did… did that guy bring a full couch?”

He had. It was set ablaze (safely…-ish) in a barrel off to the side with a sign that read:
“WE BURN FOR YOU, THANE.”

Inside the venue, Thane was finishing teardown, calmly coiling a final cable when Emily ran in, out of breath and barely able to speak.

“You… need to see this,” she wheezed.

Thane gave her a quizzical look, then followed her up to the back gate. Gabriel, Cassie, Jonah, and Maya were already crowded around the security monitor, howling with laughter.

On screen:

  • A group of fans wearing homemade wolf ears and black hoodies scrawled with “Saints Who Saw the Light.”
  • A girl with glitter face paint holding a handmade sign: “I WAS WRONG ABOUT BRET. FORGIVE ME, OH FERAL ONES.”
  • A guy with a bass guitar painted red and labeled “GABRIEL 2.0” kneeling dramatically in front of the barricade.
  • Another fan in a fog machine costume, complete with blinking LEDs and a sad face drawn on the front.
  • And one guy, proudly holding up an entire hand-crocheted Thane body pillow.

Gabriel clapped his paws together, cackling. “THAT’S IT. They’ve ascended.”

Maya squinted at the pillow. “That’s… actually terrifying. And kinda flattering.”

Mark, peering over the top of a lighting case, added dryly, “I bet they have fog PTSD.”

Cassie just leaned on Thane’s shoulder, wheezing. “They have no shame. None.”

Thane blinked slowly at the screen. “I didn’t even authorize merch pillows.”

Emily, fighting back giggles, asked, “Should we let any of them in?”

Gabriel grinned wickedly. “I vote yes. Let the glitter one in. And fog machine guy. And—only if he swears to behave — Pillow Dude.”

Fifteen Minutes Later – Backstage Lounge

The chosen few sat nervously on the worn velvet couch, clutching VIP lanyards that had been hastily assembled from spare laminate stock and gaffer tape. The couch-burner guy was still slightly singed, but beaming.

Glitter Girl, a former Saints superfan named Kaylee, sniffled as she looked around the lounge.

“This is just… I never thought I’d actually be here. You guys—your music changed me. Like, Bret was cool and all, but… this is real.”

Jonah leaned back in a beanbag chair, holding a soda. “Bret was cool in the way parking cones are cool—until you trip over one.”

Kaylee laughed through her tears. “You’re all so nice too. Even Thane!”

Thane, standing nearby with crossed arms, arched an eyebrow.

She quickly added, “In a ‘stern guardian of the sound realm’ way! Like… intimidating but noble.”

“Acceptable,” he rumbled.

Fog Machine Guy, whose real name turned out to be Nate, carefully set down his costume head and looked starstruck. “I just wanted to say thanks for not laughing at us.”

“You set a couch on fire,” Mark said without looking up from his tablet. “We’re required to laugh. But… you’re still welcome.”

Then there was Pillow Guy—Ben. He nervously held the handmade plush version of Thane with the exaggerated claws and glowing eyes.

“I, uh… I meant it as a tribute,” he said, visibly sweating. “Not like… a weird thing.”

Thane just stared at the pillow. Then blinked.

“Flattering,” he finally said.

Ben nearly fainted.

Later That Night – On the Bus

Gabriel flopped into a lounge seat, scrolling through the hundreds of photos taken during the impromptu fan hangout. “They’re totally in. Converted. Redeemed.”

Cassie added, “They went from Saint worshippers to couch-burning disciples of the pack. We need a loyalty pin.”

Emily chuckled. “I already designed one. It’s a little flaming couch with a fog machine crossed out.”

Thane looked up from his laptop and said dryly, “We’ll need extras.”

Diesel, kicking back near the front of the bus, chuckled into his mug. “Whole tour’s gone feral.”

Gabriel grinned. “Damn right.”

And outside the bus, long after the show had ended, a fog machine costume lay folded gently beside the stage gate… waiting for next time.