John cursed as he stumbled over a snake of cables coursing through the darkness of the backstage. From the sound, it was a full house. Full of beating hearts and pumped adrenaline.
Years of behind the scenes stage work had scored him an easy position as lead techie at the famous club and he was well familiar with most of the stagehands and a few of the regulars, not to mention a number of their dubious habits.
Turning his attention to the curtain, John ran a hair through his short, fluffy hair with a sigh. It would be at least a few more minutes before the Bitches from Bitchland went on and the crowd was getting restless. What did he care, his work was done till the end of the set.
Scaling the rigging stage left, he pulled himself up into his private alcove, little more than a 8x4' flat of thick plywood laid across out of use cabling. It had a perfect side view of the stage and he could watch any performance he pleased from relative secrecy. The bright stage lights always blinded the audience anyway. Complete with empty beer cans and cigarette butts, it was his perfect scene. He had scored a decent sized joint earlier that night before getting chased out of the dressing room, so he had reason to celebrate. He sniffed the rolled paper before sticking it in his mouth and leaning back against the pitch painted wall.
John smirked to himself "Dumb bitches..." Sparking up and taking a deep drag, he leaned back and waited for the show to start.