The van screeched into the venue\u2019s back lot with all the subtlety of a garbage truck crashing into a dumpster full of bad decisions. A stack of mismatched road cases toppled sideways in the rear as Thane killed the engine with a growl low enough to match his mood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSix hours of driving,\u201d he muttered, stepping out barepaw and already bristling, \u201cand we\u2019re ten minutes late because somebody<\/em> needed Red Vines and a spirit quest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gabriel, still chomping on said Red Vines, flashed a cheeky grin. \u201cI regret nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The venue? A concrete shoebox with the acoustic warmth of a metal coffin. There were water stains on the ceiling, two visible rats near the loading door (Mark nodded at them respectfully), and someone had duct-taped a “DO NOT FLUSH ANYTHING EVER” sign on the green room toilet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Inside, the stage was half-lit and still littered with bits of confetti from whatever ska band had played last night. The sound tech was a kid who looked like he\u2019d dropped out of college to follow jam bands and had the wiring skills to match.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thane\u2019s icy blue eyes locked on the kid. \u201cPower drop?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The tech blinked. \u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cPOWER. DROP.\u201d Thane\u2019s claws flexed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh! Uh\u2026 yeah. There’s one. But like, we lost the three-phase a while ago. Got this one quad outlet, but two ports kinda smell like smoke.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mark stepped up beside Thane, crossed arms, and loomed. \u201cWe\u2019re going to need more than that unless you want your monitors to burst into flames.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The kid stared. \u201cCool\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Maya groaned, throwing her guitar case down and opening it like she was preparing for battle. \u201cIf my strap snaps again, I swear to every human god, I will beat someone with the amp head.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Cassie stepped over a tangle of cables, her mic in one hand, and looked around. \u201cWho the hell books a band like us and gives us one working power strip and a fog machine that smells like burnt soup?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Rico, always the optimist, chimed in. \u201cHey, at least there\u2019s a stage this time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Jonah looked up from reassembling part of his kit that had exploded during the bumpy ride. \u201cAnd at least I still have my beer bottle from the last set. You know. In case of emergencies.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gabriel slung his bass on, still chewing Red Vines. \u201cWe\u2019ve played worse.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thane looked at him sideways. \u201cName one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gabriel grinned. \u201cThat wedding gig where we accidentally caused the divorce mid-set.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Cassie smirked. \u201cOh yeah. That was beautifully<\/em> traumatic.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thane rubbed his temples and began plugging in the gear himself, grumbling like a thundercloud. \u201cAlright, wolves and humans\u2014let\u2019s see if we can make this sonic trashcan shake.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Mark, perched in his lighting command zone (which was really just two milk crates and a borrowed laptop), flicked on the VariLites. They blinked once. Then again. Then flickered out entirely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCool,\u201d he said flatly, \u201cthey fear commitment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gabriel\u2019s voice rang out from center stage. \u201cY\u2019all ready to blow the doors off this sad shoebox?!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The monitors squealed with feedback that could peel paint.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Jonah dropped his beer bottle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Cassie covered her ears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thane looked like he was about to shift, chew through the PA rack, and eat the contract.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And from somewhere near the back, the jam-band tech kid yelled, \u201cDuuuuuude, that\u2019s, like, real primal<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The band responded in unison:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSHUT UP, KYLE.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The van screeched into the venue\u2019s back lot with all the subtlety of a garbage truck crashing into a dumpster full of bad decisions. A stack of mismatched road cases toppled sideways in the rear as Thane killed the engine with a growl low enough to match his mood. \u201cSix hours of driving,\u201d he muttered, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-277","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-tour-life"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=277"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3264,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/277\/revisions\/3264"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=277"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=277"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=277"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}