6 - if you stay i would even wait all night

"You guys were great!"

"Hey thanks!" Scar/let gives Obsidian a hearty slap on the shoulder.

"Leaving already?" Obsidian asks Daisy, who was picking up her backpack and heading for the backdoor of the dressing room, still in her stage outfit.

"Yeah, don't worry about me I have my sticks and the drumkit lives here."

"Ah right" Obsidian isn't used to this much open sharing of equipment. Usually drums are a hassle to set up and take down so hex had been worried.

"Daisy Chain! Good to see you girl, say hi to Pol for me will you?"

"Alright Lady Electrode. Thanks." Daisy heads off.

If Lady Electrode is beaming and waving off Daisy then Obsidian figures it is all fine and hex isn't complaining. Lady Electrode notices Obsidan's trepidation.

"Daisy's got her brother Pol at home, she's the main one who looks out for him so she's always got permission to head home right after a gig."

"Oh! I see. That's real nice of you."

"We look out for each other and those beyond us. I try to foster community here, even if its not always easy."

Obsidian nods.

"I'm going to be in my office. Death Grip and Ghostlight will be reprogramming the lights. The stage needs to be swept today, I need you on that."

"Got it."

With that she leaves and Obsidian is left with all of Two Truths and Lie's equipment and cases and the mics to recharge and the stage to sweep. It is already 10:30. It will be a long night.

♪ ♩ ♫ ♬ ♫ ♩ ♪

Obsidian is in the booth sitting on a swivel chair that has seen better years and is patchworked with faded purple leapoard print duct tape and sorting batteries. Hex thinks hex could patent some kind of batteries that tell you how charged they are at all times, and then remembers that hex doesn't actually know how batteries work inside. It was true that Obsidian had spent four years commuting to and from a college campus but hex only managed as far as an associates degree. A lovely opportunity picked hex up by the scruff and hex spent more time employed at college than actually enrolled. This was when hex spent time in black boxes with avant garde experimentors and experimented hexxself with anything from contact microphones to close contact in loud bars. Obsidian went home with someone at the end of the night weekend after weekend until eventually Obisidan realized that, wether it was on top or underneath, hex really had no interest in dates once they stopped having interesting conversations and started using their mouths for other things.

Obisidan set aside the batteries that had little to no charge left, then plopped the non-rechargable ones into the mouth of a small plastic alien trash bin on the lighting board desk. Obsidian didn't even know why The Cat's Cradle still had some non-rechargable batteries but it wasn't hext call to make. If the battery had no juice it either was recharged or recycled. No fault to the dead ones that's just how they were. Once those were sorted and the mics put back in their bags hex headed back into the green room.

♪ ♩ ♫ ♬ ♫ ♩ ♪

"Oh. You're still here." Obsidian stops, amp deadweight in hext hand, staring at Lyre. Lyre who is here at least 45 minutes after when fae and faer band were supposed to. He has been sitting in one of the make up chairs turned out, away from the mirror with, his guitar.

"Yeah, sorry. I was woking on a song but I guess I lost track of time." He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and looks up, "This is just such a great place ya know like even when there isn't a show," Fae looks around the space with a sort of reverence, "I um, often stay later or swing by on off days when the band doesn't play, just to be here I guess," faer wandering eyes meet Obsidians and fae looks down at his guitar at laughs.

"How's the song?" Obsidian asks and then, more cautiously, "Can I hear it?"

"Oh um sure?" Lyre played each note with trepidation but Obsidian could hear that it was probably supposed to be an opening of a song. The vibrato and the bends of strings were fascinating up close, leaning on the table just, watching faer movements create melodic sounds. When Lyre finished he shrugged, "Thats all I got,"

"It's something!" Obsidian said encouragingly. Hex did not want to tell him how beautiful it sounded, but that wasn't- what did hex know about timbre or song structure?

"I kept going back and forth... I need to take a break from playing." Lyre sets his guitar in his case then pauses, "Obsidian, do have a ride home?"

"Oh don't worry about me. I have to sweep the stage I'll just get a ride-share when I finish."

"Really? Cuz I can give you a ride." Lyre sees Obsidian about to make excuses, "I'm just saying, this isn't the city that never sleeps. This town has an early bedtime so to speak. There aren't going to be many cars out."

"Well, if you don't mind?"

"Not at all," Lyre says, picking up his guitar case and walking with Obsidian back into the house.

"Well why don't you play DJ while I sweep the stage. Catch." Obsidian jokingly tosses hext phone to Lyre. It falls next to the front row of folding chairs but it's a flip phone thus unscathed.