What was he doing here? He was the last freaking person to be getting ready for this. Ben should have been home doing something boring no doubt. Yet here he was. Getting ready to preform. Why in high holy hell was Benjamin Maximilian Curtis doing here? Well therein lies the story now isn't it. 

What was the stereotypical rich boy doing in a band? He was doing what most people did at this age. Rebel. You see his father Ryan Curtis was a very rich and powerful man. So his plan was for his only son and heir to get everything. All of Curtis Industries and its holdings. Yet the boy did not want it. He wanted to make his own plan. To forge his own path. Well the rich boy still stuck. His middle name for a start. It could not get more preppy could it? Still it was his. The band did make fun of him for being sort of preppy. Not too much but old habits died hard. 

Ben was sitting on the stool for his drum set. Unlike a lot of members he did not name his instrument. It was just a drum set after all. With out the drums and the bass a band was nothing. Jack could sing till he was blue in the face and Drake could play until his fingers bled; with out a beat they had nothing. Funny thing was that he and Lucy got that. He did not have an ego about it though. He tapped at the kit not really using it right now. He knew it was ready. Drumming was mostly about the drummer.

He yelled over to Jack "Hopefully Ned burned it and told you he left it by the lights. One can only pray." He joked. It was his job. Keep everyone's mood up. It was a thankless job, but somebody had to do it. "Damn straight it will be a good set." He told Lucy nodding his head solemnly. Then there was the violin player. One of these is not like the others, one of these does not belong. Okay that was not true. It could be worse. He was a nice kid. They all were one messed up family if you will. Well Ben liked to think so. "Anyone know how long till the start?" He asked walking back stage.