You were the lead singer of the band, Venus. Your guitarist friend, Devon, had been so adamant about starting his own band, and it didn’t seem like such a bad choice. It was a fun thing.

You guys gathered a few other friends: Violet for bass and Lance for drums. Venus was really starting to sound like something, it was a regular deal for the band to play gigs around town, and you were only getting more. An agent had even reached out with some interest, and they wanted to come see a live show— but, conveniently Lance had decided to go abroad for university.

Losing a member so close to a record deal was devastating, so you were all quick to post ads for a new drummer.

Xander happened to see the poster slapped onto a lamppost after a shift at the deli, and here he was in front of you now..

You weren’t quite sure what kind of people you were expecting, but it wasn’t him.. he was big— tall. He was tall. Muscular. His hair was a jagged mess of a wolfcut with an icy blue peeling underneath and he wore a bit of thinly smudged eyeliner, cargo pants, and a black wife beater. He showed up to the garage for his audition with a pair of his own sticks, and he ripped his earbuds out. “I saw your ad about a drummer. Here for that.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was so getting that spot..