"You're the one who programmed the damned song," Marcus said. "It's your fuckup, not mine."
Sed stopped singing and lowered his microphone, glancing to the side of the stage where Marcus stood with his arms crossed over his chest. The band followed Sed's cue and stopped playing with a discordant ring of notes. Eric went still, sweating and panting, wondering what the fuck was going on. They'd never had this problem before. Had Rebekah really fucked up? His first instinct was to speak in her defense, but he honestly didn't know who was at fault.
"That's bullshit, Marcus," Rebekah said into the crew's feed. "You're the monitor engineer. You're supposed to control the playback to the band. It has nothing to do with my program. That's to control what the crowd hears, not what the band hears. You don't even use my program."
"Excuse us, folks," Sed said to the crowd. "Technical difficulties. Bear with us until we get it straightened out." His voice echoed through their feed a half-second later.
"Or you could bare with us," Trey said, his voice also echoing strangely. Trey lifted the hem of his T-shirt and showed off his belly to a group of fangirls near the front of the stage.
Because of the echo in his earpiece, Eric could tell for sure that this was a monitor engineer mistake. Rebekah didn't have anything to do with the band's feed from the amplifiers. That was Marcus's job. Did he think they were too stupid to realize that?
"So explain the echo in my ear when Sed and Trey just spoke," Rebekah said, her voice breathless with anger. "How can you blame that on my program, Marcus? They might not know how this works, but I do. You're trying to make it look like your intentional error is my fault, so they'll fire me."
"Bullshit, little girl," Marcus growled. "You're paranoid."
"This isn't about us, you jerk. This is about the band, the music, and the ten thousand people who paid to be entertained," Rebekah continued. "Get your self-important head out of your ass, and do your fucking job. If you have a problem with me, we'll take it up after the show."
"Damn, baby," Eric said to himself, "I love it when you exert your authority. Makes me all hard."
The crowd broke into raucous laughter. Sed turned and quirked an eyebrow. Eric's face fell.
"Shit, I forgot I have a live mic," Eric said.
The crowd laughed again.
"I see the problem," Marcus said into the feed going through everyone's earpieces. At least the crowd couldn't hear him or Rebekah's hot little tirade. Marcus's voice was significantly more humble when he asked, "Do you want to start from the top?"
"They've got it fixed now," Sed told the crowd.
Jace struggled to remove his bass and get back to the piano. Jon was beaming when he returned to the stage with his bass. He got to play twice tonight instead of just once.
"Whenever you're ready," Rebekah said into their feed. "'Sever' from the top."
The rest of the show went over without a hitch. Afterward, Eric grabbed a bottle of water and waited for the crowd to clear out of the arena before going in search of Rebekah. She was probably still upset about what had happened at the beginning of the show, and he had the powerful need to comfort her. And then to dress her up like a naughty cop so she could exert her authority over him.
He finally found her backstage cringing beside Marcus. Sed had them both cornered and was in berate mode. Eric had suffered under Sed's wrath more than once. It wasn't fun.
When Rebekah tried to speak in her own defense, Sed raised a hand. "I don't give a shit whose fault it is. This isn't going to happen again. Do you understand?"
Rebekah bit her lip, struggling to maintain her composure.
"Don't yell at her," Eric said to Sed.
Sed glanced over his shoulder. "I'm not yelling."
Eric lifted an eyebrow. "Sounds like yelling to me."
"Touring is hard enough without a feud going on between my soundboard operators."
"It won't happen again," Marcus said. "I found the problem and fixed it."
"If the two of you break into an argument during a show again, you're both fired. Capisce?" Sed continued.
Rebekah nodded sullenly.
Marcus flung his hands out, his palms at chest level facing the ceiling. "Sed, I've been with this crew for four years. You can't-"
"Marcus, I wouldn't care if you were my own father. You fuck up another Sinners' show, by neglect or on purpose, you're out of here. End of story. No argument. Out of here."