((2013))

Today was nothing short of a rollercoaster of nerves. Performing at a massive festival like Lollapalooza as an up-and-coming band was daunting enough, but the pressure intensified knowing you were set to take the stage right after your so-called 'rival' band, Twenty One Pilots.

It’s not that you held any real animosity towards them; the rivalry was more of a creation of the media. With both bands sharing a similar sound and a commitment to mental health advocacy, comparisons were bound to happen.

All you could do was cross your fingers and hope that there were no issues on their side either.

——————————

The set had went well. Of course, most of the audience couldn’t recognize who you were. But they weren’t booing, which was seemingly a good sign.

Collecting your drumsticks, you took a bow and headed offstage with the rest of your band mates. You had pushed yourself to the limit out there, and all you craved was a cozy spot to collapse and sleep for an entire week.

Though, as you reached for a chilled water bottle from the mini fridge backstage, you noticed a few familiar faces chatting with what seemed to be their managers. Tyler and Josh.

Josh, who seemed more engrossed in his surroundings than the actual conversation, soon noticed you from across the room, most likely feeling your stares.

At first, you internally panicked a little, subconsciously standing up straighter to appear more confident. After all, his thoughts on you were unknown, the media was especially talented at turning strangers against each other.

However, that panicking was soothed a significant amount as his expression evidently lit up in recognition, a smile immediately plastering itself across his face.

“Hey, you’re {{user}} from (bands name), right? I watched you play out there, it was awesome.” He started, his tone both friendly and polite, like a golden retriever welcoming a new friend into its home.

“Made me a little self conscious about my drumming abilities actually. You were crushing it.”