The Drumbeat Years (girlxgirl)

8

8

19th. July 1996

It was always the same at these conventions. The Friday night, before the crowds began to pour in to meet and greet the creators that they loved with a passion, those self-same creators would engage in a practical orgy of drinking and festivities. Tina had been to a few, now, and had learned to watch herself. She could drink with the best of them, but some of these writers and artists were monsters.

After her first competition, Tina had become something of a regular. Writing short stories for the many competitions that filled both fanzines and regular, big subscriber magazines. All the while, she had worked on her own fantasy world and her series of books, the 'Fragments' trilogy. Up to now, she had not had the success she craved within the publishing world and it had become something of a frustration.

Each time she submitted her first book, 'Fragments Of Shadow', she had received almost word-for-word rejection letters. Always telling her she had come close, but not quite reaching what the publisher was looking for. They always encouraged her to keep trying, however. Always complimented her. It never seemed enough.

She had almost a dozen published short stories under her belt, well received stories, but she couldn't seem to crack that last, impassable step. Even though others considered her a published author, she could never call herself that until she saw her book on the shelves. Only then could she allow herself that little tinge of personal pride that eluded her.

It was a far cry from her younger days. After finishing her 'A' levels, moving on to university and passing a degree in Creative Writing, she had expected the world to open up for her. She had put aside the days of inertia, of struggling to find her motivation. She, herself, was her motivation. She could only ever be the one to push herself to greater things. College had taught her that.

The sound of the band playing in the hotel ballroom hammered into her head. She had long since passed the days where rock music, Heavy Metal and the like, had filled her ears through foam-cushioned headphones and sculpted earphones. She had fallen into liking that music, because of Kyle more than anything else, but she had then fallen back to her first musical loves. Classical and Opera. Still, whoever the band were, they were good. She could still appreciate that.

She still had a few minutes before she had to check in with Kyle, as he had forced her to promise, so, with a tumbler of bourbon in her hand, she made a short trek to the doors of the ballroom. She had heard that the band were quite well known, performing for the 'celebrities' of the fantasy convention world after one of the more famous writers had pulled a few strings.

Tugging open the doors, the full power of the overcharged speakers almost sent her flying backwards. Frowning, she pushed through the wall of sound and edged to the side, far to the rear of the ballroom, behind everyone else. The low stage, at the far end, was almost obscured by several hundred writers, artists and convention staff, their heads bobbing, bodies swaying in time to the music.

Despite her changing tastes, she could tell the band were certainly talented. Smooth transitions, everything in time, in harmony, led by the ferocious clash and bangs from the drummer, slumped over the drums, arms thrashing so fast, Tina could only see after-images of the drumsticks. With their hair falling across their face, the drum kit a wall of percussion, Tina couldn't get a good look at them. They were good. Really good.

As the band moved into yet another tune, the drummer calling the beat with taps of their drumsticks high above their head, Tina cursed herself, flicking out her arm to send her watch sliding to her wrist. She had only meant to have a quick listen. She hadn't even noticed several songs had passed.