Langour ・❥・Joost Klein・❥・

30.

Fryslan was a hit. The album released on top of Wachtmuziek's success and Fryslan Bop turned out to be another fan favourite. Teun and the team were able to release it in time for the summer festivals, which Joost was set to perform at almost all of them in western Europe.

With all the bookings came the need for a tour bus. Rather than drive between all the countries in seperate cars with all the equipment, it was easier to haul everyone into an entourage of buses and trucks. This was made possible by the profits of the album and the festival payouts.

The show in Germany was set to be huge. 100,000 had bought tickets and every performance had been met with unified chants and a sea of people.

As for backstage, workers rushed around to organise the next set. It took a great deal of preparation and handling to make sure everything ran smoothly. But they weren't amateurs, so the chaos was structured.

Fenne would usually be anxious, but she was in her element as everything was planned and set for the team to perform. Her camera was ready and Joost was full of Monster Energy, intiating his usual ritual of bouncing on his heels with his earphones in his ears.

'Appie's in the pit with Hanna. He'll be out for Disco Belgica at 2:30,' Fenne informed him, glancing up from her camera.

'And Acid?'

'Haven't seen him since lunch.'

Joost scoffed aloud as Stuntje appeared with a beer in hand. Joost took it without asking and took a generous gulp. His friend said nothing at this but rolled his eyes to show his true feelings towards the action.

In a black singlet and light blue jeans, Joost had dressed for a cooler summer's day. His brown frame glasses sat over his eyes and a Monster Energy sweat band sat on his wrist. Dancing and singing on stage never failed to make Joost perspire, so having something to wipe his forehead was now part of his performing attire.

Fenne wore a skirt with some shorts underneath and a milkmaid top. Her bangs were clipped at the back of her head and she had a claw clip at the hem of her skirt for later. Before the set, Fenne secured herself a plastic cup of Redbull and vodka. If she needed to keep up with Joost's energetic stage presence, she would need her own source of artificial energy.

'Hey, can I have some of that?'

German made Fenne turn with her drink still in hand. She was met with her own distorted reflection in a silver ski mask. She saw herself with her lips to the rim of her cup and her camera in hand. Apart from that, the man that wore the mask directed his question to her and Fenne raised an eyebrow.

'Um, okay?' she held it out and the masked man took it silently. He took a sip, not enough for Fenne to exclaim in offence, before handing it back.

'Thanks, liebe.'

The little German Fenne knew from travelling with Joost made it so that she could get by backstage. It was close enough to Dutch for her to pick pieces out of a sentence. But that didn't help her to react from his particularly affectionate referral to herself, or for how the man looked away as if nothing had happened.

With dark roots, the German man was blonde. He wore a white t-shirt and jeans and the band of his ski mask flattened the back of his shaggy mullet.

The interaction drew the attention of Joost and Stuntje, who had been watching the current performance. They turned to see Fenne with her drink in hand and a wrinkled forehead next to a man who grinned at the sight of the famous Joost Klein.

'About time we met, Mr Small,' the man said in German as he walked over. Joost's face split into a wide grin and he met the man halfway to dap him up in greeting. Stuntje introduced himself and shook his hand with an equally as friendly aura.