The night had started with a thrill—the energy of the crowd, the pulse of the music, the raw excitement that came with performing live. But as the band played under the open sky, a light drizzle turned into steady rainfall, misting over the stage like an uninvited guest.
Mick, always the stubborn one, played on, ignoring the increasing wetness of his drum kit. A stagehand rushed over to him between songs, leaning in to speak over the roaring crowd.
"We should cut the show short, Mick," they warned. "The rain's picking up—this could get dangerous."
Mick wiped the sweat and rain from his forehead and shook his head. "Nah, we'll be fine. Just a little rain."
So, they played on, unaware of just how risky things were about to get.
At the side of the stage, Stevie, Lori, and Sharon were dancing along to the music, enjoying the coolness of the rain despite the slickness beneath their feet. Then, without warning, Sharon's foot slid out from under her, and she let out a startled yelp as she tumbled onto the wet stage floor.
Lori and Stevie both turned sharply at the sound. "You okay?" Stevie called over the music.
Sharon gave a quick nod as Lori reached down to help her up. "Yeah, I just—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Mick let out a loud curse from behind the drum kit as his drumstick slipped from his rain-slicked fingers, flying out into the crowd. He fumbled for a replacement, but the situation had already begun to spiral.
Then, with a loud pop, one of the amps blew. The speakers crackled, and an ear-piercing screech filled the venue. That was the final straw.
Stevie grabbed the mic, addressing the soaked but still wildly enthusiastic crowd. "Alright, we hate to do this, but it's just not safe to continue the show in these conditions. We love you guys, and we'll make it up to you, but we have to stop here."
A chorus of disappointed groans mixed with understanding cheers as the band members began exiting the stage.
Lori turned back to Sharon, extending a hand. "Here—let me help you up."
Sharon grasped it, but the moment her right foot hit the ground, a sharp cry escaped her lips. "Ah! My ankle!" She wobbled, barely able to stay upright, and instinctively leaned against Lori for support.
"Oh no," Lori whispered, panic creeping into her voice. "Hold on, don't put weight on it!"
From across the drenched stage, Lindsey had noticed the commotion and hurried over, his rain-soaked jacket clinging to him. "Sharon? What happened? Talk to me!"
Sharon tried to smile through the pain, but it came out as a grimace. "I... I slipped... on the wet stage. It's my ankle... it really hurts."
Karen came up beside them, looking concerned. "She slipped onstage. She might've twisted something."
"Okay, okay," Lindsey said, bending down instinctively. "Sharon, I've got you. Just hang on." Without hesitation, he lifted her carefully into his arms. Sharon clutched at him, teeth gritted against the pain.
"You're okay," he murmured. "I've got you. We're getting you out of here."
On the walk backstage, Sharon winced with every step. "It... it hurts so bad," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't see the puddle... it was just—"
Once in the dressing room, Stevie, Karen, and Lori helped get her out of her soaked clothes, swapping them for dry ones while Lindsey grabbed a towel for himself. Lori and Stevie quickly changed as well before Lindsey carried Sharon out to the car, carefully placing her inside.
