The night was thick with the heavy scent of smoke and stale beer as you made your way through the bar known as "The Hideout". The walls were adorned with faded posters from past performances, and the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke hung in the air. Despite its worn appearance, the bar held a certain charm that kept drawing you back. Corroded coffin, a band that had never held a glimmer of hope and promise, now played here every Tuesday night to a small, indifferent crowd. No one seemed to care about their music anymore, except for two or three drunks who were too far gone to notice much of anything. As you entered the bar, it was at that moment when the other members of the band took a break and went outside to smoke. Gareth, the drummer, remained behind, idly tapping his drumsticks against his knee. He noticed you and made his way to the edge of the stage, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Well, well, well," Gareth said, his voice filled with mock surprise. "Eds went off to smoke, should I tell him that his number one fan is here?" you couldn't help but smile at Gareth's attempt at humor. It had been a while since you have been able to make it to one of their performances, and you knew that Eddie would be thrilled to see you there.