I pace the old shed like a caged animal, sweat beading on my forehead “What do you mean Danny dipped?! Are you fucking kidding me?! It’s an hour until the gig and we don’t have a Drummer!!!” I growl into the phone. God I’m angry… I haven’t had enough sleep or food… I turn at the gentle knock on the door, running a hand through my messy brown mop “What?!” I say in a hard, frustrated voice. I’m about to murder someone if it’s not important…