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It's so fucking ridiculous. Bob knows it even as she keeps playing through the heat and the pain. She should get up and have someone get a doctor or something. Because, really, it hurts. A lot. She knows there's something seriously bad happening to her skin, and she knows she's being stupid, but she doesn't stop playing.
Part of it is just Bob's personality; she's always been a little Type A when it comes to her work. But a lot of it, she knows, is because she feels like she has something to prove. Over the years, Bob's learned to be careful of showing weakness in a scene of men who can seemingly smell it in the air and will attribute it to her being a woman as a matter of course. She's always worked harder, been more focused, than her male counterparts because it was the only way she could get people to see past her gender.
It's a hard habit to break, even now that she's surrounded by guys who always have her back, who respected her long before she started drumming for them, and who would probably wrestle her away from her kit if they knew what was happening right now.
So Bob plays, not only because they've got just one shot at this but because there are still too many guys at Warped shows who scream nasty shit up at Bob, still too many girls in autograph lines who don't realize that any one of them could do exactly what Bob is doing.
.End