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The bassist grumbled as he fought with the stubborn old mic stand, the damned thing had been a pain in their behind since he picked it up off the side of the road. At least everyone in the crowd had left by now, saving them the embarrassment of being watched as they miserably failed to pack away the stand.
“Need some help with that, Yon?” Dingo asked, peering over their shoulder.
“No, I… Yeah, actually.”
Yonny took a step back as his friend rolled up his sleeves, giving them a smug smirk, “Don’t worry, I got this!”
They then watched in a mixture of amusement and disappointment as he struggled just as much, using much more colourful, rather vulgar language. This lasted a few unbearable minutes, time they’d much rather spend packing their bags to move onto their next gig, or making the most of the hotel they had booked out.
Eventually though, Dingo threw up his hands and swore, as if he hadn’t been doing that enough already. He looked about ready to snap the thing over his knee, which would have come back to bite them later on. Yonny gently patted his shoulder in an attempt to sooth the seething drummer.
“Listen Dee, we can just carry it along with us, no worries.” They kissed his cheek and picked up the mic stand.
“Hey, are you alright?”
The two turned to the source of the sound, finding a pair staring them down. A young woman with curly blonde hair and a man whose grey hair was coiled into a spiralling bun, they appeared to be around the same age. Despite the woman’s protests, the man approached the stage and pointed to the object of their scorn.
“Sorry, you just seemed to be having trouble with that. Can I try?”
Yonny thought for a moment, before they agreed, helping him and his friend up. Dingo kept his distance from the two, a little embarrassed at the thought of how much they might have seen. The man felt around for a moment before, like magic, finally collapsed the damn thing.
He passed the stand back to Yonny and offered his hand, “My name’s Collin, by the way. Erma and I are pretty big fans of yours.”
The bassist was at a loss for words. What took him and Dingo around an hour of weak attempts, it took Collin a swift twist and pull. They shook his hand.
“You seem to be pretty good at this stuff, have you ever played before?”
“Ah, not all that much—”
Erma cut him off, elbowing his side. “Nonsense! We used to play together all the time!”
“That was in college, Shep. I’m really not that good.”
Dingo huffed at their bickering, remembering how he and Yon used to act in their youth. The thought alone was enough to make him smile.
“So where are you two from?” Yonny asked.
“Right here in Giya, born and raised!”
“...The next colony over.” Collin quietly added.
They continued their chat as they packed up the last of their equipment. Collin was proving extremely helpful, winding up cords and lifting the heavy amplifier. Hell, Dingo even seemed to warm up to the two’s company, making awkward conversation with Erma between turning his attention to other tasks.
It turns out Erma used to take singing lessons, while Collin’s skills with guitar and handling the alike equipment were purely self taught. The two Giyans had pretty big shoes to fill, especially Erma, second oldest child of the current standing captain of the Rescue Corps. She voiced her concerns about taking on the role of captain, glad that her older sibling was more likely to take over first. Collin’s grandfather had been a fairly well-known engineer in his time, passing his biggest inventions onto the man despite how outdated they had become over time.
During all this, Dingo caught the time on a watch Yonny had been wearing, finding that they were now very much behind schedule, having gotten distracted talking to their new companions. He grimaced and nudged Yonny, who was knee deep in a funny childhood story; they always got carried away when they met new people.
“Hey, Yon?”
“Hm?”
“We’re late.”
“We– huh?!”
The mood changed so suddenly. Yonny froze for a moment and checked the time themself, before running off the stage to track down his gig bag. With that, Dingo was left with the two confused Giyans.
“...Is everything okay?”
“Not really, hah. We should be able to make it to the next show, but we really gotta pick up the pace… we’re so fucked.”
“Ah, oh dear.”
Erma lit up, reaching into her bag to pull out her phone. “You need speed? I know just the guy!”
“Oh no, you’re not gonna call him are you-”
“Oh yes I am! Listen, Bernard’s the fastest pilot I know!”
“He delivered your mail. One time. He doesn’t even work at the–”
“Shh! Calling him now.” With that, she walked away, leaving Dingo more dazed than before.
Yonny hurried back, nearly knocking the drummer over in his rush to get him moving. They were panting, almost wheezing carrying all their bags. Dingo took a few of them and raised an eyebrow at Erma when she returned, assuring the group that their ride would soon arrive.
Despite the cramped conditions on the pilot’s ship, he still managed to make them all feel comfortable, greeting the two nervous musicians with a warm smile. To their surprise, Collin and Shepherd joined them, offering to help them set up their stuff before the crowd got impatient. Not only that, but there was even another passenger on board; a scientist, Russ, that was in the middle of being driven to some large company his family owned. Though his voice was a little grating, he expressed interest in the band’s endeavors, even offering up some inventions he thought up seemingly on the spot.
They soon made it to their destination and, with all the help they had gotten, were able to prep the stage much sooner than they were expecting. The extra hands made all the difference, and they didn’t say it out loud, but Dingo and Yonny were definitely contemplating letting them all join the crew.
As the show neared completion, they noted how much better their voices sounded after the equipment had been altered by Collin and Russ. They had never been technically savvy themselves, so having the two on the team would be of great help in the future, they’d definitely need to ask after the show.
Overall, the show went off without a hitch, if they ignored their initial hiccup in getting there.