<🎧 Song Recommendation: Atonement by Godwin, KITSCHKRIEG>
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[1:45 AM — Loading Bay, Kaseya Center]
The arena loading dock was a cavern of diesel fumes, backup beepers, and shouting riggers.
Fourteen fifty three foot semi trucks sat backed against the concrete bays with their hazard lights blinking on as heavy ramps took the brunt of the rolling road cases.
The local crew was stripping the venue down to the bare concrete, loading trusses, lighting racks, and backline steel as quick as they could.
Parked in a clean row along the wall was the fleet. It consisted of four black entertainer star coaches running quietly on venue shore power.
"Why buses, though?" Max asked, hauling his heavy duffle bag up the narrow steps behind David. "Von's a platinum artist. We could've chartered private jets to every city."
David didn't even turn around as he led the way inside.
"Because a private jet doesn't haul two hundred tons of staging and sound equipment, genius," David said flatly.
