It might be a bit presumptuous to say, but you love music. Especially songs and albums. There's just something about listening to someone pouring their soul out in a song that just gets to you like nothing else can. Art's fine, and movies are great and all, but music? Oh man, there's no beating it.
Which is exactly why you've risked life and limb by actually going to a concert. Songs stored on disks or grubdrives just can't compare to a live artist's voice caressing your ears. Sadly, the concert is now over. Has been, for a few minutes, actually.
You are in the backstage, milling about. You bought one of those fancier tickets that let you get a backstage pass too as a VIP, so you're milking that permission for all its worth. You're not really sure what you're looking for, but you don't really want to go back to your hive yet.
Soon though, you will have to leave, lest the indigos get mad over stray fans overstaying their welcome. Yo is that Marvus? THE Marvus? Walking towards YOU of all people? Wait, what other people? You're basically alone here, there's no crew around here.
<font color=6a006a>Marvus: "shiii"</font>
<font color=6a006a>Marvus: "u a fan?"</font>
