The chaos of the meet-and-greet was winding down. Staff were stacking chairs, the velvet ropes were being gathered, and the energy in the room had shifted from wild electricity to a soft, glowing warmth. Fans were still outside chanting under the arena lights, but backstage\u2026 it was quieter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gabriel stood near the edge of the stage ramp, bass still strapped over his shoulder, the weight of the night finally catching up with him in a deep, satisfied breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHell of a show.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The voice came from behind \u2014 calm, warm, unmistakable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gabriel turned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His dad stood there, wearing an old flannel shirt over a tour tee from some<\/em> ancient band, jeans worn but clean, and a look in his eyes that could only be described as proud.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHey, Dad,\u201d Gabriel said, and for the first time all night, he looked just a little bit like a kid again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His father stepped closer, eyes roaming over the rig, the lights, the crowd still visible through the back tunnel screen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI used to sit right up there,\u201d he said, pointing toward the 300-level seats. \u201cWatched Megadeth, Anthrax, even Slayer once. All those nights, I never imagined I\u2019d be standing here\u2026 looking at my own son from the wings.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gabriel\u2019s breath hitched, just a little.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou were on fire<\/em> out there, kid. Every note. Every stomp. I\u2019ve never seen anything like it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gabriel chuckled and looked away, tail swaying gently. \u201cI kept thinking about you. You\u2019re the one who taught me to love this. Even before I picked up my first bass.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n His dad tilted his head, smiling. \u201cYou didn\u2019t pick up<\/em> your first bass. You hunted it down.<\/em> I just got out of the way and gave you the ammo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He nodded toward the instrument still slung across Gabriel\u2019s chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou play with your whole soul. I see pieces of every lesson we ever shared in your hands. But most of all? I see you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gabriel looked down at his claws on the strings, then back up at the man who had never once tried to change him \u2014 even after the fur, the eyes, the claws.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThanks, Dad. For not freaking out when I became a werewolf. Or a bassist.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n His father barked a laugh. \u201cHell, I\u2019m<\/em> a bassist. You just got the better<\/em> claws.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n They both laughed \u2014 a quiet, warm, shared joy that only two bassists could understand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then his father reached into his back pocket and pulled out something small \u2014 a folded slip of paper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI was gonna mail this to you one day,\u201d he said. \u201cBut tonight felt right.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gabriel opened it. It was a setlist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n From twenty-five years ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His dad\u2019s first show at a tiny dive bar in Cape Cod. Handwritten, dog-eared, and taped together in the corners. At the bottom was a scribbled note:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOne day, we\u2019ll both take a bow.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n Gabriel blinked hard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell,\u201d his dad said, clearing his throat. \u201cI guess tonight was that night.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n They embraced \u2014 not a brief hug, but a long, soul-settling one. No words. No need.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When they pulled apart, Thane stood a few steps away, arms crossed, quietly watching.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His dad glanced at him, smiled knowingly, then back at Gabriel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019ve got a good pack, son.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gabriel looked back at Thane \u2014 his anchor, his wolf.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYeah,\u201d he said, \u201cI really do.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The chaos of the meet-and-greet was winding down. Staff were stacking chairs, the velvet ropes were being gathered, and the energy in the room had shifted from wild electricity to a soft, glowing warmth. Fans were still outside chanting under the arena lights, but backstage\u2026 it was quieter. Gabriel stood near the edge of the […]<\/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-474","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-tour-life"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/474","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=474"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/474\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3202,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/474\/revisions\/3202"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=474"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=474"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/tourblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=474"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}\n