We spend a couple hours together talking and crying. We spend a lot of time touching. Breakups are hard for a lot of reasons. One of the crazy ones is because we don’t know how to be with one another without our habits. And when the habits around how to hold and touch, how to tease and play, when the habits are so physical, it’s awkward. It’s painful to not be able to kiss. It's hard for both of us. It’s wonderful that we’re still friends. It aches and hurts and cuts. We hold hands, harder than we used to, as we hope the tightness will help with the pain. It mostly doesn't.

She walks out of my hut, even more rumpled than before. Now we’re friends who can’t be around one another for a while. I hang up the do not disturb flag we've agreed upon outside my hut. Then I start in on the beats. I drum on the tabla drums alone in my hut for a bit. The sound ward is still up. But this time the music isn’t for them; it’s for me. I have to get lost in it. I have to let the beat fill the hole in my soul. A couple hours of tabla, and I need to go back to my comfort rhythms. I move my kit into the hut, and let loose.

Zep, Rush, and Tool take work to play. I lean into the music. Animals as Leaders, Avenged Sevenfold, and Dream Theater have speed, but speed by itself isn’t hard for me. I turn up the rhythm to ten times speed. I play until I sweat. Dragonforce, Meshuggah, and Fleshgod Apocalypse are harsher, maybe. I need the harshness. I increase to fifteen times speed. It requires attention. I speed up some more. At 21x, I start making mistakes on The Deceit. Francesco Paoli was pretty damn good.

Back it up, roll it again. Oops. Again. And again and again.

I come out of my hut, swimming in sweat, and drop the sound wall. Half the village is outside waiting for me.

“Hey, Snake,” says Gemma. “Are you okay? You missed our practice.”

Checking in with Sgt. Pepper, he tells me I’ve been drumming for a bit over 93 hours--just under 4 days.

“Dude. Sorry. Relationship stuff, ya know. Had to drum it out.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry, Red. I got a bit carried away. The beat will set you free. Well, it works for me.”

“Everyone’s worried. You didn’t leave the hut for a long time. The monsters are still around; and everyone’s short on thaums.”

“I’ll play for everyone in a bit. I gotta talk to Rick.”

“Okay. I’m glad you’re okay.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Thanks, little G. You can tell everyone I’m good. Just gotta have words with Rick.”

I wave, smile, and walk off towards Ricks hut.

He invites me in, gets me some tea, and we sit down around his table. I set up a sound ward. He notices, and nods.

I figure I should start the conversation off on the right foot. “Dude. You’re kind of a dick, man.”

“Someone’s got to be.” His reaction isn’t exactly what I expected. “This cuddle puddle of carebears is the best young folks I’ve been able to find. And there’s not one of them, except maybe Gwynnyth, who’s paying attention to the world and the problems we face.”

“So you’re like all benevolent and stuff, helping the community? I didn’t take you for a social worker.”

“Come on, Snake, I know you’re smarter than that. I’m no angel, and I never pretended to be. I want to survive. I want to take this new dimension, and beat it. Then I want to set it on fire and shove it up the ass of whatever kinds of fuckers set this system up. In order to do that, we have to survive. And if someone has to get uncomfortable while we’re surviving, I’m gonna make it happen.”

“Dude. Why not just bail?”

“I’m a lot safer in a group. So are they for what it’s worth. And someone’s gotta herd the cats.”

“Whatever. I don’t like it. I don’t like you. But whatever. Not what I’m here for.”

“So what do you want? You know what we want. What’s it going to take for you to stay? Gemma’s kinda hot. Tay is too. I can deliver either one.”

“I don’t need my cock taken care of, Rick. And I don’t want something from the rest of the town. I want you to pay for me to stay. You personally.”

Rick is unphased. “How long? How long are you planning to stay? Are you and Yulia still a thing?”

“No. We’re done for now. I can stay until the monsters around town are handled.”

“We’d like you to consider making this your home.”

“I forgot about me for a minute, Rick. Yulia was just that amazing. The deal is that I’m a drummer. I don’t have a home, just a place to set my drums. I need a band.”

“We have other beautiful women here. And you have a band.”

“Stop fucking offering to pimp the girls here. And no, I don’t have a band. I have a trainee guitarist who doesn’t practice, and doesn’t love it. She won’t be good this century. And Cad’s great, but he’s not a musician. He sings because he’s nice, but he doesn’t try stuff. There’s no musicians in town. This isn’t where I belong.”

“Okay. What do you want?”

“I want you to offer me something that costs you, not that costs everyone else.”

“I’ll do what it takes. I need a day to think on what will work.”

“The rest of the folks need some thaums, anyhow. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

I head back to my drum set. I turn on broadcast volume.

“Ok, friends. I’m back. Let’s get some thaums, and kill some monsters.”

I start with Save The World by Swedish House Mafia then Heroes by Alesso. And I let loose the full power of my tom-thaums. It had been four days of losing thaums without my beats. The town was looking pretty haggard. Four hours later, everyone is full, and it’s monster hunting time.