Snippet #2539091

"...And once again, thank you all so very much for coming out, stick around for Psychosis, stick around for Legion! We are Sturm and we have one more song! That song! Is! THE EXECUTION BLOOOOOCK!"

The crowd roared again, then died. Ted held the pick in his mouth and concentrated. He was a bit frazzled and didn't know why. Maybe it was knowing Izzie was out there, probably judging. Maybe she liked it because it wasn't Cor Leonis. Maybe she hated it because it had too much consonance. Why did he care?

-----

By the time The Execution Block reached the seven-minute mark, Ted could feel the sweat beading on his hands. He should have ditched the jacket. He should just not bring the jacket in the first place.

The harmonized soloing and duet finale began. It had been Lionel's idea, after accidentally layering two solo tracks together and discovering they could work well together. Though the whole 16 bars seemed entirely improvised, like a conversation through guitars, it was actually the product of nearly a week of nonstop writing, figuring out the harmonies, counterpoints, and fills. Lionel was inordinately proud of it all.

The duet closed with a final harmony leading into the classic Big Rock Ending. Lionel let Ted make the guitar noises and took the mike again. "Thank you Ottobar, have a great fucking night!" With a flash of the horns, Sturm's set ended. Now to break down and take the gear out so Psychosis could set up.

Fun.

-----

All loaded. Psychosis's set had been...almost the same, but not really. Ted had to admit, their musicianship was exceptional, especially Izzie's. The whiplash between slow and fast caught him off guard, but surprisingly it worked. When the last song finished, Ted whooped and cheered with everyone else, then turned around and headed outside. The creeping urge was coming back.

Time for the evening smoke.

He'd quit for a brief period after taking up his position as singer in Cor Leonis, but when that gig passed, the cigarettes returned. He kept himself carefully rationed to two or three per day, and made sure to make up for it in other ways. He considered that fair. He'd quit again eventually. Hopefully not too late.

Right now, he really needed to smoke out the unexpected stress. He stopped about ten yards from the venue entrance and pulled out a pre-cut strip of paper. Holding it between his fingers, he pulled out the tobacco pouch. He set the paper on the ground and knelt by it, carefully putting just enough tobacco on it, then rolling it carefully and sealing it up. He then lit it up and took a long drag.