She gestures to a separate entrance, a gilded rope cordoned off to the side. Behind it, a few other fans hold laminated passes.

she squints at her screen Right, gotcha. Through here. Straight down the corridor, take a left at the 'Cast Only' sign. You'll get your lanyard at the registration table.

She steps aside, and the heavy door clicks open, revealing a quieter, climate-controlled hallway.

The muffled roar of the main crowd fades.

From somewhere deeper inside the venue, a distant soundcheck riff echoes—a guitar riff you recognise from Fired Up.