[b][THUMP] [CRAAAASH][/b]

“Ungh…HEY! What’re you lookin’ at!?” shouted an auburn-haired boy with a frustrated expression, in a light, but mature voice.

In a fit of embarrassed blushing, the boy shot up, shooting wicked glares at the people who were staring at him. It was enough of an embarrassment that he fell at all, but to fall on his butt as people watched? It was pure humiliation. Vandal took a hit to more than just his behind, his pride was injured as well.

“I was right to question the safety of those lights…” claimed a deeper-voiced, heavily muscular man, a satisfied grin on his face as he watched the boy get up.

“Vandal…sweet lord! Are you alright?” sounded another, calmer voice from a sweet lady with a long beard. She made her way towards the boy, reaching out to help him up as she got closer.

The boy shot up, ignorant of both people, “I’m fine!” he stubbornly claimed, brushing a few pieces of glass off of his shirt and arms as he walked away from the broken overhead lamp which landed beside him, “besides, I’ve survived much worse.”

The bearded lady looked over at the muscle man with a knowing grin and giggled slightly, to which the muscled man returned a chuckle. The auburn-haird boy frowned at both of them hotly as they chuckled, interpreting it as chiding, but quickly turned away to look for a broom. The backstage area was a rather large room, just like the stage, with a bunch of old props, dusty scenery boards, and plenty more hazards and dangers. There were a few doors around the room, two for the male and female dressing rooms, one both ends of the stage, and two to different sections of the extra rooms which were passionately known as living quarters.

The other member was resting in his own living quarters, exhausted from moving in. Vandal decided not to bother the guy, instead making the clearly more logical decision to climb about near the ceiling and mess around with hanging light fixtures. The bearded lady joked that, if they duck-taped dusters to him, they could just leave for a day and all the dust would be gone when they returned. The teen resented this joke, although he admitted it was not bad as he was swinging about earlier.

He shook his head as he lifted up a broom and dustpan resting beside a trash-bin. As he walked back, he looked around the place for better places to climb around. [i]This place is too rotten to climb around.[/i] he thought, kneeling down beside the broken lamp to brush up the glass shards. Behind him, he heard a door opening, and quickly looked over his shoulder to see who it was.

“Vi!” he exclaimed, standing up with one hand on the broom as he loomed over the broken shards. After a moment, he remembered what he did a minute ago and quickly stumbled to say, “uh…umm…It was a rotten light which was poorly attached! I hold no blame for this…” then crossed his arms and made a pouty expression as he looked away, peering over at Vi after a second, then quickly looking away again to continue his pout.

The muscle man, who was still moving a few of the props out of the way of another series of rooms, heard Vandal and chuckled a little. “They’re nothing like trapezes now, are they?” he said, his full voice still partly mocking the boy as he spoke. Vandal tried to ignore him, but ended up grumbling a few words under his breath and returning to his task, pouting slightly as he swept up the glass.