Is someone looking to sell this? Or do they need someone to play?
There are little tabs along the bottom with numbers and words, but I focus on the main picture first. I make out the wordsbandanddrummer.
“Hey, you going to try out?”
I glance over my shoulder to find a guy standing across the street, a set of drumsticks sticking out of his front pocket. Hishair is long, and he’s dressed in enough clothes that he must be sweating. Jeans, jacket, and a knitted red hat.
Try out? So they are looking for someone to play?
“Uh, maybe.”
He huffs an annoyed sound. “Good luck. They’re only looking formonsters.”
My brow furrows, and I look back at the flyer.
I make out the wordmonsterin big red letters.
“It literally says monsters,” I mutter to myself as the guy walks off.
Wait—they want a monster drummer? I’m a monster drummer.
I’m not a professional, and I’m sure there is a lot to learn, but drums are the instrument that has come most naturally to me. I’m even able to practice underwater, though it doesn’t sound the same at all and my movements are different.
“Where is it?” I call almost frantically to the guy walking away.
He stops and looks back at me, then points in the opposite direction he’s going.
“Hilton Street!”
I look that way, unable to make out any street signs because it’s too dark. But my feet start going in that direction, and I figure it out. I have to figure it out. For the first time, I feel like this could besomething.
It takes far too long to find Hilton Street. I passed it twice because it didn’t have a sign on this corner, but when I do find it, my heart is in my throat. I turn down the street, and my palms start to sweat, but I have to do this. I have to.
The street is a dead end, but even if it weren’t, I’d have found them without issue.
Three monsters stand in a brightly lit garage, talking to one another. Instruments are scattered all over. Guitars, a bass, a keyboard, a beat-up drum kit… There’s a microphone on a standoff to the side, and a few amps here and there. My feet work before my brain does, and soon enough I’m standing just outside the garage.
“Can we help you?” one of them asks.
I have no idea what he is, though his horns are pretty cool. They curve backwards over his head.
Living under the ocean for all of my life has left me with little knowledge of everything that goes on up here. I’m still learning about other monsters that exist here, the same way I’m learning about everything else on land. I didn’t know they were a thing until I came up here. I’ve seen humans out on their boats or swimming, but never monsters. Never others like me… sort of. Kraken are a different breed, but still… I’m a monster too. And maybe I’ll fit in with these guys just a little more than the kraken because they love music like I do.
“I saw a paper that you were looking for a drummer,” I say as confidently as I can.
“Yeah, amonsterdrummer,” another one says with a laugh that doesn’t sound friendly. I’m not exactly sure what he is, but he’s big like the other two with tusks and greenish skin.
“Iama monster,” I say adamantly.
The first one steps closer, looking down at me like I’m crazy. Like I don’t know what I’m talking about. I feel so small like this, in human form. Compared to other humans, I’m tall. But standing in front of this giant monster with wings? I feel like a child.
“You look human to me,” he comments.
I hold up my hand, showing off the jewelry. “My ring has magic that turns me into a human.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m huge.”
