It was a customer, of sorts. A man who was probably somewhere in his late forties, wearing jeans, a cotton shirt and cowboy boots, entered the shop backwards. He was carrying a large item that would be recognizable as an amplifier. Just a few car spots down, a blue van was parked and several people were unloading things from it: instrument cases, microphone stands, boxes.
"Heya," the man drawled, his eyes focusing on the redheaded woman. "Ya'll must be Mrs. Novak. I'm a roadie with the band. Where're the boys settin' up?"
Alex entered just behind him, carrying a guitar case and looking a bit rushed, his jacket only partially done up and his hair quite windblown.
"Grace. Hi." He pointed to the man. "Stan's dad, Frank." A wave to Gabe. "Hi. Alex."