5Aldo wakes up alone with a sore jaw, lying on his back on a bare wooden floor.
He opens his eyes and immediately squints them closed against the glare of bright lights above. He groans and sits up, rubbing at his chin where Lega'd biffed him. The bastard had some fast hands.
Looking around, he figures he's backstage, dumped on the floor behind what seems a big stage curtain, lying on a wide, raised platform among a stack of heavy duty amp and cabinet transport cases. The backstage area's crowded with mic stands, mixing desks, lighting rigs, effects units and a thousand trailing cables making a snakepit of the floor. No one around, though. Not a soul to be seen. Not a single roadie or sound tech in sight.
On the other side of the curtain, Aldo can hear the stage speakers playing backgro
