Outside

1

As I stand leaning my elbows on the countertop in the tiny, hand crafted kitchen backstage, I tap my foot in sync to the beat of the loud vibrations of the music coming from the booming speakers onstage. I've been standing here waiting for the kettle to boil for the past five minutes now after being told to make a cuppa for my piece of shit boss. Absolute bastards, the lot of them. Self absorbed misogynistic arseholes. When I had dreamed of a job in music I pictured travelling the world with good music and excitement filled adventures, not being sent to fetch coffee for some ignorant twat full of his own shit.

"You done it yet doll?" I hear Ross 'the boss' shout from the sunk-in sofa that he's been sat on for he past hour. "Here" I bitterly reply grabbing the steaming mug of coffee from from desk I'd just been stirring it on and i make my way over to him. I actually have the urge to throw it over that face he adores so much but I'd rather keep my job for now even if it is shit because how else am I supposed to earn money?

A little while back, I was given this job working backstage at a gig venue in London. I thought it would be all fun and games at first but little did I know, I'd have an ignorant piece of shit as my boss and a bunch of other assholes just like him. I guess that's just the perks of being a female amongst a ton of men who don't give a shit.

"The bands going on in a few minutes lass, you not gonna help out?" Ross asks, nodding his head towards the stage where the majority of the other workers are headed. I always get so nervous going onto the stage even if it's just to wire up the microphone, I have no idea how people can perform in front of so many people. "with what?" I reply looking out at the many other workers handing everything, there's literally nothing for me to do, everyone's already sorting out the equipment so there's nothing left for me. "Don't answer back just do it Lyla" I roll my eyes at his command and saunter out into the open space packed with wires and amps, looking out at the loud crowd. I can't really see much because of the lack of light, but I can certainly hear the place, it's definitely a full house tonight, I wonder who the band is though.

After making sure the microphone is securely plugged into the loudest speaker and the amps are all wired up right, I make my way backstage again and see Ross standing with a bunch of tall, shaggy haired lads dressed in black from head to toe. I can't get a good look at them but I'm presuming it's the band that's about to head on stage. When their chattering finally stops, the group walk onto the stage leaving Ross and I stood alone in this tiny space. "You've done the mic wrong the wire's meant to be round the back not the front" Ross comments on my idiocy like always and I turn around to look at him, he's stood with his arms crossed looking disappointed. "So? He'll be taking it off the stand anyway" I respond, pushing past him to take a seat at the sofa. I can tell I've riled him up now and he's probably going to whip out the whole 'you're only here because of your dad so carry on with that attitude and you'll be gone' bull shit.

Fortunately for me, he decides to just reply with a tiresome eye roll as he disappears into the long, dimly lit hall leading into the dressing rooms.

After a few hours of sitting doing nothing, luckily not being caught by Ross, I hear a slightly muffled voice shout 'thank you very much London, we are catfish and the bottlemen' and the huge crowd cheers louder than I've heard before. Jesus these guys must be pretty massive to get screams like that, it's almost deafening. It doesn't take long for the same lads Ross was talking to earlier to come into the back room, earning high fives and hugs from every single crew member. Now's the second most annoying part of my job; dismantling the microphones, bringing back the guitars and packing everything back away ready for the band to take it with them.

I walk onto the stage again and see everyone beginning to leave the spacious room, all huddling up trying to squeeze through the double doors. Untangling the long wire of the microphone from the stand, I ravel it around my arm and along with the stand, taking it back stage and placing it on the hook with the rest of the long wires.