Doren
He leaned back against the couch of the bus and closed his eyes. It had been a long ride, almost eight hours, but he didn’t mind traveling like this. It was relaxing: no intercoms, no paperwork, no people poking their heads into doorways and wanting something, needing something, absolutely-having-to-have-him-do-something right that very minute. The studio’s plan had been for him to fly down and meet the band and the equipment at their first venue. He was pretty much a one-man stage presence as the rest of the guys were hired musicians, so Anton had said there was no point in being dragged around by bus with them for hours on end, but Doren had outright refused. That’s not how a body went on tour, whether the musicians would be static or not, and Doren wasn’t going to miss a single p
