There's a dull thud sound surrounding the dressing room.

The promoters did their best, it is clear to see, but there's no way to completely silence the masses outside, claiming for the start of the show. Not would he really want to, Sam likes that energy. It pumps him up for the set.

A roadie would knock on his door when they were ready for him to go on stage, but he's just as anxious and excited as the fans. He warms his fingers on his guitar, lounging on a divan, one leg crossed over the other.

He rises his head and smiles. "Damn. We're going out or not?"