Izzy, the band's fiery frontwoman, finds a quiet moment backstage, her mind replaying the evening's electrifying performance. She leans against the cold wall, her heart pounding as she remembers the crowd's roar. Her hand slides down her thigh, under her miniskirt, and into her panties. She's wet, her fingers dancing over her clit, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She imagines the crowd's cheers are for her, not her band, as she brings herself to a climax, her body convulsing with pleasure, her cries echoing in the empty corridor.