Despite how calm he was on the outside, there was a nervousness building inside Sam as he tuned his guitar for the set. There was something mildly terrifying about playing a show in front of the entire school no matter what he told himself.

He wasn't sure what to say to Tatum as they were getting ready. She was always more nervous than him about stuff like this and he didn't want to make it any worse, so he just smiled. "Water?" he offered, holding out his water bottle. They would both be singing quite a bit and water always helped.

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Terrified didn't even begin to cover everything that Tatum was feeling. She had been feeling sick for three, practically four, days before the actual night of the show and now that it was really here, things were only getting worse. It crept up on her too quickly, but it had been a somewhat long week with orientation and things going on for her, and she was sort of glad that it would be over and done with on Friday night. It meant she didn't have to deal with any stress she didn't want on Saturday or Sunday.

So long as she got through Friday, anyway.. and didn't drop dead from fright or something.

She had been practicing, practically breathing, the song that she had chosen to open with. She wished, almost as soon as the idea had left her mouth last month, that she hadn't said anything at all. It was a dumb idea, and she didn't really sing many songs by herself, she generally did back-up or a few verses, but sitting down and acoustically playing an entire four minute song in front of the whole school was enough to paralyze her. They had played a few shows, but nothing to a crowd of their entire peer base.

Really the only reason that she got the nerve up to come down and go through with it was because of Michi's encouragement. She had started popping ativan around noon, but she still hadn't been calmed down enough by that night. Pacing her room desperately when the older girl had knocked, Michi had managed to help her pick out something to wear and convinced her that Mack wasn't going to laugh at her.

With just enough time to smoke a quick joint and apply some visine before joining the rest of the band to get ready, Tatum had tuned and fiddled with both of her guitars for a while before retiring to playing a game on her cellphone, anything to keep her mind off of the crowd waiting by their stage. When Sam spoke to her, she jumped a bit as her head snapped up. "G-Got juice," she replied, holding up a bottle and giving it a little shake. "Lot of g-good it's doing, I'm so thirsty and I feel like it's.. a t-thousand degrees in here, I d-don't know if I can even stay in here," she rambled.

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Fuck, he knew he shouldn't have said anything despite how much he wanted to. "Aint so bad," he said pulling at her shirt a little bit. Now that she mentioned it, he was pretty warm.

They had decided to open with Tatum's cover and then move on to some original stuff and a few more covers. He had been impressed with her suggestion to sing that particular song because it was a female solo. He knew she was going to be crazy nervous and he only wanted to help.

He checked his cell phone for the time and adjusted his cap. It was just a few minutes off now. "Time for the mic check," he said quietly. "Ready?"

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"D-Define ready," Tatum replied quickly, practically twitching where she sat. Her head lifted, looking toward the stage again, and she felt herself go stiff all over. She was going out there, and it was voluntary for all intents and purposes. She had always known that joining a band meant playing shows, but all of her favorite bands made it look so effortless. It was a lot more pressure than she had imagined, and especially a show like this.

But Professor Sato had been good to her, and they had agreed to play and that was that. Slipping her phone into the pocket of her hoodie, she began unzippering and taking that off too.

"I should have just d-dropped a bunch of acid and j-just gone out there winging it.. that w-would have been way l-less scary, no wonder r-rockstars love drugs," the redhead murmured, straightening up and standing to follow Sam.

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Sam snorted. "I don't even know I can answer that," he said. He wasn't even sure he was ready yet but here they were. He was sure that this was what he wanted to do with his life and the next hour or so would define that for him.

"Just play," he said smiling warmly. "Yer gonna be amazing so just... let it be," he nudged her chin gently with his thumb and grinned.

He stepped out onto the stage and started checking the amps. It was always a pain to make sure they were at exactly the right levels but he knew perfect levels made for the best show.

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"That's e-easier said than d-done, y'know!" Tatum called weakly after him, hanging back and hesitating on the edge of the stage. If she couldn't suck it up and go out there to silently do checks, then she had no chance of going out there later and opening her mouth. What was the worst thing that could happen. Oh yeah, she quickly reprimanded herself, you make a horse's ass of yourself and everyone including the teachers get to have a laugh.

What if she dropped her guitar, or couldn't hold a tune, or she forgot the words? Right now, it felt like the lyrics were definitely ingrained in her mind, after so much practice, but panic had a way of stripping her over even the most basic brain functions. What if she froze up and they all started to boo them and someone threw tomatoes or something? Maybe that only happened on television, but she was worried just the same.

Gathering up her small handful of courage, Tatum made her way on stage with her head down, quickly turning her back to the crowd as she began to check and double check their equipment. Straightening up with her back still facing the crowd, she took one of Sam's drum sticks and gave his cymbal a gentle tap. "Sounds like it w-works to me," she managed to get out with a little crooked smile. This was happening now, whether she wanted to run away or not, and it was probably just best to accept her fate.

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Sam just turned and grinned at her when she called after him. He figured there was nothing else he could say that would help. The rest would just get her all nervous all over again. He nudged her arm and laughed when she tapped his cymbal. "Yeah, sounds pretty good," he nodded. "My guitars all set too," he plunked down on at his drum kit and adjusted the microphone for when he was going to sing at the drums. "I like tacos," he said into the mic, grinning like a fool.

"How's the pipes?" he asked, stepping away from the drum kit.

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She tried hard not to crack up at his goofing off, she always felt like such a goon when she really let loose and laughed around strangers, so she just fixed him with a barely restrained crooked smile instead. "Who doesn't like a good taco?" she joked back, turning to fiddle with the main microphone they had set up in the middle of the stage. Complete with a stool which would be, unfortunately, utilized by her before anyone else in the band.

"P-Pipes? Like, my pipes?" she asked as she turned away, much preferring to have her back to the crowd. "They're.. w-working as good as they're ever gonna work," she laughed weakly. "I feel like I can sing f-fine but I might drop d-dead before then."

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He couldn't help but goof around, it was the only way to get everyone else to relax. He hoped it was helping Tatum as well. Goofing around made him feel comfortable, like maybe he didn't have to take the world seriously. "A damn fool don't like tacos," he grinned.

Elbowing her gently, he laughed. "You're pipes a course," he grinned. "Want me to check the mic?" he joked, pointing to the center microphone. "I could check to see if anyone in the audience is fool enough to say they don't like tacos?" he joked quietly.

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