Snippet #1673268

Pete had been stood around listening to the stage hands being bossed about by some guy who was either a manager at the hall, or belonged to Tabbi Davio's production company. It was difficult to tell, because the man was obviously suffering a lack of sleep and an excess of caffeine.

Before long however, he heard a familiar voice, and turned to see Rodger come onto the stage from the opposite wing. The man who had been shouting was noticed first, so Pete stood off to the side while Rodger and 'Lance' (as his name transpired to be) greeted each other. Lance's mood seemed to improve slightly on seeing Rodger, and they immediately launched into a discussion about the preparations for tonight's show. Pete wasn't sure of Rodger had requisitioned all of the supporting musicians for the gig, or just Pete, but nobody else seemed to have showed up. Unless they were already elsewhere rehearsing together waiting for Pete...that would just be typical.

"Oh by the way..." Pete heard Rodger say in suddenly hushed tones, "...the guitar chap I've arranged to come, he's absolutely brilliant, but I should let you know that he isn't...well, he just...isn't...you know."

"What?!" Lance exclaimed, before quickly suppressing the volume of his own voice as well, "OK...ok...that's not wonderful but it's only three nights, I'm sure we can manage it. Why though? Could you really not find anyone who...is...?"

"This isn't America, Lance." Rodger said firmly, "This is Britain, and it's the same anywhere in Europe. There's just not so many of us these days. And anyway the boy deserves a chance, this will be good for him and I know he'll be up to the standard you need."

"Fine." Lance huffed. "Well as long as all three of them turn up then we'll make something work out of it."

Pete decided this would be a good time to make his presence know, so he gently cleared his throat and stepped out from the darkness of the wing.

"Hi Rodger." he said, trying to act as if he hadn't heard anything. "Am I the first one here or am I in the wrong place?"

"Pete!" Rodger said, a look of anxious shock spreading on his face as he clearly tried to gauge if any of his conversation with Lance had been overheard. As for Lance himself, the weary looking middle-aged man turned to look at Pete, and simply stood, wordless and expressionless, with his fists balled on his hips. "No no you're in the right place. Just on time too. Don't know if you saw but you're amp's already set up, I brought it in the van earlier, but went to get some lunch and ended up getting shut out, don't you know! Anyway, glad you're here. Um...why don't you plug in just check that everything's in order, and show Lance a few of your skills."

Rodger turned to the curious man, and although Pete couldn't see Rodger's face, he somehow got the impression that Rodger was either mouthing something or just pulling a certain expression.

"Yeah, sure, will do." Pete said, shaking his head and pulling out his guitar and plugging it into the amplifier which he found set sure enough among a few other speaker cabinets, by the looks of things already powered up and sporting an auxiliary output lead to the sound desk. Pretty efficient.

Slinging the guitar over his shoulder, he played a couple of basic riffs, ramping up the volume knob on the guitar to check the amp wasn't pumped too high too fast, adjusted a few dials on the amp itself, then stood back and launched into the opening licks of one of the songs he'd written with the band, keeping his back to Lance and Rodger, not wanting to be put off by their expressions or reactions.