The band sat on the edge of the stage. In front of them a small table had been set up. There was a bucket with a bottle on ice. A gold card next to that. Frank paced at the back of the sound stage, hand on his hip. Nobody could hear him and Mack wasn’t sure if this was something good or bad happening. To Mack's right, Jake, Trent, Gray, and Luke also watched Frank. Their faces were all relaxed, but Mack could see the terror in their eyes. The room was too quiet, but all they could do was wait. It had been a long day already of running through a ton of songs and creating potential set lists. Meeting with designers about the final touches on the tour, like how they wanted the stage to be set up. The banners for the tour. The logos. Hell, even the bass drum for Mack’s drum kit was going to be off the wall customized, not that Mack cared. All he was concerned with was that the drum was in tune and mic’d up for the shows. Everything after that was whatever. The last thing he wanted was Fallen Tuesday to turn into some kind of act.
