“And don’t worry, they’re not slimy unless I want them to be so I didn’t damage your keys.”
“I haven’t thought of that. I just traveled with you. Wherever you went when you played that.”
All three of my hearts drummed with excitement. “Thank you.”
Rick stood up, reached for a black Fender on the wall and a rolled cable next to it. He plugged it into the amp with a zapping sound and turned the knobs, changing the settings. I watched him tune the guitar with quick the movements of an experienced musician, his eyes closed.
“Would you play it again?” He faced me, propping one leg on the chair, covering his groin with the sleek wood of the guitar.
I flashed him what I knew was my dimpled grin. He wanted to jam with me.Fuck, yeah.
“Starting with D minor.” I swiveled on the chair and let my hands and tentacles fly over the keyboard.
The slide of a pick across the upper strings announced Rick’s entrance, sending shivers down my back.
Then, we played. Locking gazes every now and again, we communicated wordlessly where the song was going, reading each other’s moves until we drew the melody to a smooth close.
“You’re so talented.” Rick set his guitar aside but kept fiddling with the pick in his fingers. “Will you be still playing when you take over your father’s restaurant?”
His words made a dent in my joy and I had to take a deep breath before I tackled the question. “I don’t know if I’ll have the time. It’s a family versus dreams story.” I shrugged. “And that dream has already sailed away.”
Rick sat back on the chair and crossed his arms, his forearms flexing. “You can’t say that and not tell me.”
“Ever since I was little, I wanted to be a musician. I taught myself to play every instrument I could get my hands on, buying them one by one with the money I earned helping dad at the restaurant. At one point, I thought if I could prove to him, and myself, that I should pursue music as a career, he would stop pressing me to take over the family business. But I can’t throw away that kind of opportunity to chase some wild dream.”
“You’d make a great musician in my opinion, for what it’s worth.” Rick patted my knee, but retreated his hand quickly.
“Thanks. Coming here for the festival is my goodbye to this side of me before I focus on the restaurant fully. I know where I stand because I posted a few clips online and saw the reaction to them. The backlash opened my eyes enough to realize my dreams were stupid.”
“That’s bullshit.” Rick sat at the very edge of the chair and passed the pick between his knuckles as if it were a coin. “What were the clips?”
“I’m a fan of Swimming with the Sharks so I made my own rendition of one of their big songs. I played keyboard and synths with my hands and tentacles, like I did just now. I wore a mask so my family wouldn’t recognize me but also because Shark Man always wears one.”
“Wait… what?” Rick frowned, so I continued.
“Yeah, I know. I got so many negative comments saying that my use of my tentacles was unfair and freaks didn’t belong in music. Of course, my dad found out about the video and it sealed both his and my decision to stay in the restaurant business. I’ll still play, just…” I shrugged, twisting the aquamarine ring on my pinkie.
“Hold on.” Rick scooted closer with his chair, his expression perplexed. “Did you wear an octopus mask?”
Okay, I didn’t expect that question. “Yes… Yes, I did.”
“Are you OctoRocker77? I know the rendition. It was fantastic. Was it really you?”
My hearts drummed like rain on a windowsill as I processed what Rick had said. “You really think so?” No way. “And yeah that was me. Ugh, I haven’t checked that account in years, but let me see if I can log in to prove it.” My phone was in my hand faster than if someone was chasing me and I needed help. I found the app and tried several passwords before I got in. “You must be mistaking it for something else, the hate in the comments probably buried the post a long time ago— Oh…” My old music account had a few thousand subscribers and almost a million views on that wretched video. I looked at the number of likes. “Wait, this can’t be it.”
Rick stood next to me and I angled the phone so he could see it.
“Yup, that’s the one. Holy shit.” Rick’s tone was pure joy. “Look at the comments,” he said from over my shoulder, his breath so close to my ear, it sent shivers down my spine. It would be easy to lean back into him and avoid looking at my phone. He was safe. The internet was not.
Then again, it couldn’t be worse than what I’d read before, so I scrolled down. The bigoted comments and negative jabs about my tentacles and my style were still there, but the replies underneath them were just the opposite. Not only was there love for my music, but roaring support for preternaturals playing.
The tightness in my chest became too much and I had to use my gills to take deeper breaths. I stood up to pace the room, hiding the phone in my pocket. “Well, it doesn’t change anything. Playing is still my hobby, and I won’t love it more because of a few comments on my old clip.” I turned to Rick, my hand on the doorknob. “Thanks for the jam session, but I should go.”
Chapter Five
Nereus
“Stay.”Rickshottohis feet, taking my hand. “I mean, if you don’t have plans. I can order takeout.”
