Million Pieces °Bastille Dan°

Gig Time

While the crew walks around us, me and Dan stand in the middle of the backstage area. Kyle, Woody, and Will also stand in a circle laughing to themsleves about something funny one of them did this earlier. I smile and laugh with them...although I can't hear what they're saying. It would be weird if I maintained a straight face.

"Don't strain yourself again today" I whisper knowing that he can hear me while I gently massage some Ibuprofen Gel onto his back. I can't believe he can get himself into such a state...he's over doing it a little bit with the running.

"I didn't strain myself." He snaps while I roll my eyes backwards. He did. He strained his back this afternoon when he went out for a run. While it was funny at first...I now feel guilty for laughing. He's in a tremendous amount of pain, it sucks because thereis nothing I can do to soothe the pain other than give Dan some of this cream and hope for the best.

"Oi! Quasimodo!" Oh my god. That's hilarious! I guess he is calling Dan that because hiding underneath the back of the t-shirt. It's only because Dan is having a day where he isn't feeling confident enough to take off his top in front of the crew. So instead of constantly moving the top away I mentally said 'fuck it' and went underneath.

"Quasi-huh?" Dan knows who Quasimodo is. He's probably just forgotten.

I then lower Dan's t-shrirt down and am greeted by their eyes, and ridclous grins. "The Hunchback Of fucking Notre Dame, dickhead." I would die a million brutal deaths for Woody, he's a god send.

"Piss off." Dan immediately laughs before holding his back in pain.

He shouldn't go out on stage and preform. When the adrenaline he builds up on stage later dies down...he'll be in twice the pain. I think the rest of the guys are thinking the same thing as me, they all have a concerned glint in their eyes. However, I can sense Dan wants to grit his teeth and bare the pain.

I hate to say it...but it's all up to him at the end of the day.

"I was just going to say that it might be ideal if you sit on the sofa for majoirty of the set, you know?" Dan grunts in protest.

"That's actually a really good idea." I immediately agree with Woody, only because it's the truth...and it'll do Dan some good to rest.

"The music is already depressing as it is. I can't bore them to death and do nothing..." I lean my head on Dan's shoulder while we all seem to huddle up against one another, all while the crowds screams behind the backstage grows louder and louder.

I'm guessing the Lewis Capaldi, aka the Scottish Babe, just finished his set?

"Not our problem. You're the creative fucking genuis behind those depressing bangers." Kyle chimes in pointing towards Dan.

Sometimes I feel out of place in these types of conversations. Now is one of those times. Every time that I do want to say something the conversation always changes. The truth is that I don't know much about what it's like to go on stage...I hide myself away behind the curtians and shout into my radio when Dan any of them fucks up. When Dick is ill, or whatever, I normally come away from the sidelines and follow Dan into the crowd. I even grab his belt while he sits on top of the balcony, just so he doesn't fall.

I guess I'm not as weak as I might look or seem.

While they discuss changing the setlist to slower songs for Dan I quickly kiss him on the cheek, getting no reaction back, before walking towards Dick.

Dick stands in the corner of the backstage holding a white piece of A4 paper. The only logical thing it could be is tonight's setlist. Yikes. I probably should tell him about the sudden change. I know he isn't going to be happy, but it's for the Dan's wellbeing, which is the only thing that matters. Without Dan there wouldn't be any Bastille.

Literally none of this would be possible anymore.

"Hello..." I say in a bored manner. It's only because we don't like each other much...that and it does get boring doing the same thing day in and day out.

"What do you want?" I so cannot wait to go on maternity leave.

I stand on my tiptoes for a second. Only because I want to see how tall Dick really is, but I'm not suprised that I'm still smaller than him. "Dan hurt his back so they want to change the setlist...if that's okay?" I don't know why I'm asking if it's okay because I've already told them it is.

"But we've rehearsed this setlist!" He slightly raises his voice slamming the back of his pale hand against the piece of paper. He sounds more fustrated than angry, which is fair. All I can do is nod my head and shrug.

"I know..." my voice trails off while Dick marches off towards the boys.

Whatever.

I'm not in the mood to argue about the setlist tonight, I'm sure Dan can fend for himself. Anyway, I know it's gig time but...we need dinner. I'm sure they can all cope without me for tonight. I deserve a break anyway to be frank. I'm two months pregnant and managing a group of thirty somethings who act like children!