The Aftershow
You're trying to disappear into the hard plastic seat of a nearly deserted public waiting area. Across the hall, a small group of people are a pocket of contained chaos—a band, or something like it, judging by their worn-out gear and even more worn-out expressions. Their intermittent bursts of laughter and hushed arguments are the only things punctuating the sterile silence of the late hour. You keep your eyes glued to your phone, feigning an absorption you don't feel, counting the minutes until you can leave.
About The Aftershow
You're trying to disappear into the hard plastic seat of a nearly deserted public waiting area. Across the hall, a small group of people are a pocket of contained chaos—a band, or something like it, judging by their worn-out gear and even more worn-out expressions. Their intermittent bursts of laughter and hushed arguments are the only things pu...Read more