The show that night started at eight o'clock. When The Seventh Affliction's opening act had left the stage, it took another hour for the band to come on. The crowd was rowdy as seventy-six thousand people stood together as an army in the stadium. Gabe was sure that the screaming had permanently deafened him within the first half-hour.

Gabe was down in the pit, his first night working as the drum technician. After the soundcheck earlier this afternoon, he was satisfied with the job's requirements and easily slipped into the role as he worked with the other guys on the sound levels.

Ohio Stadium was big enough to house the thousands of screaming fans plus all the stage equipment needed for the show. With their affluent budget, the band was able to add plenty of additions to the show that would dominate the live music industry.

A smaller B-Stage had been set up in the centre of the stadium so the band could be closer to their fans. Exclusive to only a handful of shows on the tour, Austin sometimes played piano from a suspended rise in the air that circled around the stadium. Money had never been a problem for The Seventh Affliction.

When the band kicked off, it was like a bolt of electricity went right through the centre of the stadium. It was a current that flowed beneath the thousands of stamping feet and screams that reverberated around the concrete walls.

Halfway through the band's set, Tyler ran down the stage and through the mosh pit, sending a thousand fans into a screaming frenzy. Nate caused his own scene by diving into the audience and crowd-surfing his way to the smaller stage.

When the time came for the set's acoustic component, the lighting engineer subdued the strobe lights and focused the spotlights on where each band member was. Nate and Tyler were centre stage whilst Austin was crowned in a golden hue and Harley's rise was a red haze. The stage looked incredible.

The two guitarists riled up the crowd as Austin laughed along at his fellow band member's antics. They played softer versions of a few songs and the stadium began to glow as the crowd held up glow sticks and phones as flashlights that swayed to every chord and beat. One couldn't deny the affect The Seventh Affliction had on the world through their music.

The show was going well. The crowd was happy, the band was ecstatic, and nothing could take away from the moment they had created through rhythm and camaraderie. That is, until Tyler tripped over one of the drum cables.

Racing sidestage to replace his Gibson CL-50 with his custom Fender American Professional Stratocaster, a cable that hadn't been strapped down properly hindered his path and Tyler tripped.

The disconnection sent a sudden jolt of static through the stadium, followed by a continuous stream of white-noise when one of the kick drum's microphones was knocked over as a result. The sound was horrific. Gabe's radio was on in seconds as the stage manager screamed into his ear.

The band slowly died down as they realised where the sound was coming from. Austin abandoned his bass riff and Nate scratched the record on his power chord. Harley was the quickest to react though.

Having watched the events unfold in front of him, the drummer immediately stopped playing when he realised that one of the microphones had fallen. The lack of stable connectivity between the microphone and the mixer had created an unpleasant current of static that was only amplified by the other kick drum's microphone.

Gabe tried not to wince as the stage manager screamed into his ear. The microphone levels had been set to eliminate the proximity effect, but the sound engineers hadn't counted on one of those microphones being knocked over and disconnected.

The stage crew moved fast. Shoving Tyler out of the way, the back of the stage went dark as the roadies quickly fixed the microphone while the others in the pit worked to restore the sound levels. It took less than two minutes, but those minutes were at the crowd's expenditure of listening to blaring white-noise.

Gabe was going to be in so much trouble.

The band was back up and running within moments. Nate cracked a joke about the complications of rock and roll mixing with the clumsiness of one guitarist. Tyler flipped him off and they resumed their set.

By the time the crowd was ushered out the doors and Gabe was headed backstage, he knew what was waiting for him. Rounding the curtain, he came face to face with the angry stage manager.

"What the fuck was that!" he shouted, red-faced and fuming. "Did you not equalise the microphone levels during soundcheck? Why the fuck did Mark even hire you!"

Being yelled at was nothing out of the ordinary. They were roadies, and part of the job was fucking things up and making mistakes. Gabe was one of the few who didn't screw up on a daily basis, but he also had a brain which is more then some could say.

"We did." Gabe replied sharply, a hint of anger on his tongue. "But we can't account for idiots who forget to tape the fucking cable down properly."

One of the junior roadies winced behind him. Gabe smirked.

The stage manager sighed and clutched his forehead with one hand. He softly banged his clipboard against his temple. "I did this. This is the life I chose. I deserve this."

"Gabe!" came a voice from sidestage.

Gabe prepared for the verbal abuse that would be spewed his way, but instead a hearty thump came across his back, followed by a loud chuckle.

"You fucking idiot." Mark laughed. "I haven't seen such a collosal fuck-up in days. That was bloody fantastic!"

Gabe rolled his eyes but the younger roadies behind him gasped. "You're not mad?" one asked causiously. Gabe guessed he was the one who forgot to secure the cable with gaffer tape.

"This is Gabe we're talking about here," Mark grinned. "Seeing him mess up his first night is the highlight of my week. Watching Tyler shit himself was even better. But had it been one of you," Mark pointed at the junior roadies and gestured to the stage exit. "You'd be on the next bus outta here without so much as a goodbye."

The younger boys gulped, but Gabe only had eyes for Mark. He crossed his arms over his chest. "You think this was funny?"

"Kiddo, seeing someone as careful as you mess up so bad was perfect fucking irony. No, I'm not mad. I'm fucking ecstatic."

Gabe didn't understand the manager's nonchalant behaviour, but he supposed that when you earnt a paycheck in the millions, one sound mistake in one show didn't even put a dent in one's reputation. The band were still millionaires whether they sold a million platinum albums or ran down the street naked and as high as a kite. That's all Mark really cared about anyway.

The roadies started to disperse and Mark put a hand on Gabe's shoulder, leaning in and saying softly, "Sometimes it feels good to fall of your high horse, huh? People only have low expectations of you anyway."

Gabe said nothing as the manager laughed once more and walked away.

The band had a private meet-and-greet after the show, exclusive to only those who had purchased VIP tickets in advance. It was an hour before they came backstage to a half-deconstructed set.

The hollering and shouts of laughter filled the air as the band made their entrance. Gabe had been loading a stage box into the back of a van when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist and hot breath hit the back of his neck.

"Hey sexy," a voice growled in his ear. "How about it? You, me, my room tonight. What do you say?"

Gabe turned around to find Tyler looking at him seductively, still on a high after the show. He twisted out of the rockstar's arms with a scowl. "Not tonight, Tyler. I'm busy."

"Oh, c'mon Gabe," Tyler said. "You're not pouting over one mistake are you? C'mon, let me see that ass in action." He bit down on Gabe's shoulder through his t-shirt.

Gabe squirmed against him. "Tyler, let me go. I have shit to do."

It was rare, if not unheard of, to turn down a night with one of the band members, but sex was the furthest things from Gabe's mind. He wasn't feeling up to it that night.

Tyler didn't take the hint. Wrapping his arms around Gabe's waist again, he trapped the roadie between his chest and the van. His eyes turned dark as he said, "I'm not taking no for an answer," and Gabe wondered if he was about to be eaten alive.

Nate and Austin chuckled a little as they watched their friend. Gabe growled low in his throat but that only seemed to excite Tyler more.

Gabe was seconds away from punching the guitarist in the gut when a low voice growled, "Leave him alone, Tyler."

Backstage grew silent as everyone watched Harley appear from the shadows. A deep scowl was evident on his face.

Tyler laughed manically. "What up, Harley? Not in the mood to get laid tonight? At least get your own piece of ass instead of coming after mine."

The others snickered but Harley's scowl only deepened. "Let him go Tyler. Don't make me make the call." he demanded. It was a threat.

Nate, Austin and everyone else stood in silence, watching in a mixture of astonishment and anticipation.

Tyler glared at Harley for a few seconds before releasing Gabe and stepping away. "Fine. Do whatever you want, man."

Tyler walked away and the onlookers began to disperse as he shouted, "What the fuck are you looking at?"

Harley glared after Tyler before looking to Gabe. "You okay?"

For the first time in his life, Gabe was speechless. The boy who everyone claimed was an absolute god in bed and "oh so mysterious" had just rescued Gabe from Tyler's advances.

"I didn't need your help." Gabe frowned in response.

Harley watched him carefully, not uttering a word as he turned and walked away. Gabe went to turn back to what he was doing before when Harley said, "Are you coming?"

Harley had reached the exit doors of the stage. Silence came over the room once more as the other roadies attempted to hide the fact that they were listening in on their conversation.

Gabe furrowed his brows. "What are you-"

"Of course he'll go." Ryan suddenly interjected, shooting a look Gabe's way from where he stood with Drew and Jordan.

Gabe sent Ryan a scathing look which the other boy promptly ignored with a smile.

Harley focused on Gabe again, almost daringly. "So, it's settled then. Follow me."

Gabe went to refuse when Harley shot a look over his shoulder. "After all, you owe me for Tyler."

"You fucking bastard." Gabe seethed under his breath but followed regardless.

He ignored the immature hoots and thumbs-up from the other roadies. Gabe punched a smirking Ryan in the stomach as he passed and Ryan wheezed out, "Yep, I deserved that."

Smirking a little to himself, Gabe followed Harley over to the stage exit. It was only when Harley opened the door for him that he realised what he was really doing. Releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding, he stepped out into the night air with Harley behind him.

***

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