2011 11 21 Behind The Music

Log Title: Behind the Music
Characters: Richenda-Gray, Phantasm, Wade Shaw
RL Date: 21 Nov 2011
IC Date: 21 Nov 2011
Location: The Club - New York City
Brief log summary:: Chenda stops by backstage to run through her check list before a Drago performance. Wade gets a little cranky.
Rating: pg
There is no TS in this log:: Yes


As the club area bustles with people in their late teens to mid twenties, the backstage area proves itself to be quite generous with the soundproofing. The air conditioning unit's gentle hum is audible as Mike, dressed in full concert attire sits at a table, staring intently into a mirror as he works on the final touches to his face. Giving a sigh, he leans back, setting the bottle down.

The blonde, other half of the surviving members of Greysong peers from the other side, oddly enough, also dressed in similar attire, although quite possibly not as detailed. Somewhat out of practice. "I forgot how much I hated doing that." He mutters, looking over to Mike as he leans against the wall, crosing his arms.

There's a knock on the door.

On the other side of the door, Chenda Gray waits for an answer, flushed with success. The clipboard in her hands says plenty about why. The club's show-prep guy had forgotten the existence of a concert tonight, and couldn't be reached for work. Who set up the show gear, with the aid of the club manager and a few shanghaied club staff? Her signature's on the line at the bottom. The mere fact has her smiling.

"Yeah, amazing what happens when you take so much time off," Mike mutters, turning around to smirk to his friend. "Think the hand's going to do alright for tonight?"

Wade laughs, giving a nod, "Yeah, plenty of recovery time in that amount of time off. Besides, I'm only doing one of the sets anyways." Wade pauses, glancing to the door as it's knocked upon. He smirks, raising his voice to the door, "You better be hot or bringing in beer. Otherwise we're not here."

"Well, no to the latter!" Chenda calls back, trying not to laugh. "As for the former, open the door and refresh your memory, Wade! Also, you're all set up for tonight, though you might want to spot-check the sound board and mike hookups, just in case. The manager just had to take his best guess." She sneakily tries the doorknob, just in case…

Watching the knob turn, Wade moves a foot over along the base of the door to prop it shut. "I don't think that was an answer." Wade replies, "Although, you SOUND hot. But then again, Mick over here can SOUND intelligent but you see where that gets you."

From Richenda's side of the door, there's the muffled sounds of Mike responding in protest "Oye! Shut it!" coupled with the sound of a mini scuffle behind the door. Eventually the door is unblocked.

Chenda shakes her head, laughing softly at the commotion behind the door. When it finally does unblock, she pushes open the door and exposes the room to critical amounts of hotness.

Okay, not really. For one, she's a bit mussed from all the pre-show work. For another, the white athletic bra, gray hoodie, and jeans ensemble she's rocking can be found anyplace in New York where hot lights override one's wardrobe choices. But her expression and the ruddy glow of accomplishment and good humor do a lot to compensate for the rest, and she was hot to start with. "See if I ever deliver for /you/ again, Wade!" she scolds cheerfully, shutting the door and giving the blonde a playful shove so she can move away from it. "Hi, Mi… /Mick/!"

Well it depends on the type of 'HOT' definition you want to go for really. Wade teeters back as he's reaching up to his hair, seemingly trying to smooth it out as he moves over to the makeup mirror. "Damn it Mick. Why'd you have to mess up my hair?"

Lined blue eyes glance over towards the blonde as a dark eyebrow arches in accompaniment, "Hate to break it to you mate, but it's always been that messed up." The darker haired of the the duo looks over to Richenda, flashing a smile that seems a bit wolfish, posture relaxing, as he steps over to Richenda, "You remembered." He reaches an arm out, wrapping it around her shoulders in a bit of a half hug, "Good!" In his positioning, he arches his head to look over to the clipboard curiously. "Anything other than the spot-checks?"

Chenda is more than happy to half-hug him back, holding up the clipboard for inspection. "Nothing. We managed to get the lights all ready before they opened the doors for Happy Hour, so that should be good. And the extra bouncers are all on station. Aside from the sound stuff, we're golden, if I may use the word 'we'," she replies cheerfully. She also sticks her tongue out playfully at Wade in mid-hug. Nothing more fun than using the boss to needle his friend, especially when you don't get along to begin with… or at least not in the conventional sense of getting along.

"Well that's good," Mike assesses, allowing for his arm to slip from Chenda as he glances over towards Wade who is 'finishing up' his hair. "If it's any consolation, Wade. The set you're coming on for is around the start of the second half so PLENTY of time to get that hair in order."

Wade gives a grumble before he moves from the table to walk towards the door, frowning as he passes Chenda. He does however, take his time opening the door in order to look back at Chenda….'s back. He eventually turns to head out, "I'm going to go check. Come out when you're done here, /Mick/."

Chenda glances over her shoulder and giggles. "Aw, he's mad… is he always this nervous before a show?" she asks, stepping back and setting her clipboard on the table. "I get the shakes something awful about an hour before. Need any help with the outfit? Makeup? Anything?"

Mike's smile fades, looking towards the closing door. "It's been awhile since he's last performed in public," the musician replies, "And the first time without Jack there." The already prepped musician looks over to the questioning woman, shaking his head, "I've done with my stuff. Had a lot of practice doing that stuff on my own."

"I'll make sure I'm out there to cheer him on," Chenda promises, looking at the door. "And not Bronx-style, either." She turns her attention back to Mike. "Who's Jack?" She knows about Greysong, vaguely, but half of the individual members don't ring any bells.

"Jack was our primary guitarist in Greysong." Mike supplies, glancing back towards the door, "And Wade's best friend." He grows quiet for a few moments, shaking his head, "I'd like to get him back into performing regularly when he's physically able to."

"Oh…" And quiet. Chenda looks back towards the door again. "Maybe I'd better find him before the show. He could use a little cheering up. Maybe help with the hair. Or something." Hey, she's /trying/… it's not easy to sympathise with the annoying Wade.

Mike looks back towards Chenda, expression a bit surprised at the offer. He smiles slightly, "I'd appreciate it if you did. Just, keep in mind that it is Wade."

Chenda blinks at Mike's expression, then gives him a playful push to mask her own surprise, giggling. "Oh, don't look so surprised! I used to be in show biz myself, you know. And I'll make sure he knows I'm not a groupie, if that's what you mean," she adds, with a wink.

Shifting back with the push, Mike nods, glancing to the door again. "I probably should go talk to the support band."

"And I'd better hasten my hindside in Wade's direction, if I'm gonna catch him while we can both still hear," Chenda says, turning for the door. She reaches for the knob, then turns back and gives Mike another hug, a real one this time. "Break a leg, guitar hero," she whispers.

As Mike's given a hug, his arms lift, returning it, "Thanks, now I'm going to imagine the audience as moving colored bars."

"Might make the first set easier," Chenda quips, and holds the door for Mike. "Don't forget those spot-checks. Silence is /not/ golden, if you're in the audience." Thank you, Captain Fortune-Cookie…

"I'll remind the support band not to hog the energy when their meter gets full," Mike adds back, stepping through the opened door before turning to go down towards yet another room. Quite possibly where the rest of the band was hiding.

Chenda gives a little fingertip wave, then hurries off to find Wade. No more backstage space than this club has, it shouldn't be a long undertaking.

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