Page 1 of Snapdragon

Chapter 1

“It would be good for your career, but I can see why you would also want to turn this down.” I could hear the sigh coming from Frank, the line crackling with it’s intensity. “Actually, no. I have no idea of your thoughts on Monsters, Flora. Heck, this is the height of unprofessionalism...”

I cringe, trying to imagine Frank while he speaks. He’s the perfect, clean cut professional. Every line is clear with him, and I always know what is expected from me.

We’re both in new territory right now, though.

He’s presented me with an interesting offer, to say the least. A luxury fashion house, Noma, has asked me to do a photo shoot. This would be a pretty big deal on any other day, but there’s quite a significant caveat.

The shoot is a political stunt from Noma to appear more liberal and to cross sell their two markets. It’s unusual for a business to be structured that way, a foot in both the Human and the Monster industries. Noma want to do a photo shoot with a mixture of Humans and Monsters, featuring a whole host of us from different industries.

“I don’t know, Frank.” I tell him, honestly. “It’s not that I personally have anything against Monsters. But I’m afraid of what the backlash from this might be.”

I was right. The tension between the two groups was high. I had never even met a Monster.

“Can I take a bit of time to think about it?” I ask. This isn’t a decision I should be making lightly. I fiddle with the elastic on my notebook while I wait on his response.

“I can try and get you an hour or two. I’ll pretend I couldn’t reach you or something.” I relax a little, my shoulders brushing the smooth velvet of the booth behind me. “The shoot is planned for tomorrow though, so they’re gonna push me.”

I thank him, but he hangs up as quickly. That’s Frank, straight to the point and no frills.

I take a sip of my drink, the dainty tea cup shaking as I set it back down. I think I might need something stronger than matcha.

This wasn’t what I expected from my morning visit to Rosie’s café. I had been served my drink, the sun shining in the window and my songwriting notebook in front of me. That’s when I got Frank’s call.

I won’t lie, there’s definitely something to be said that Noma even know who I am. It’s still new to me that I’m recognized sometimes.

About a year ago, I went from singing at open mic nights, to selling out venues. It’s all thanks to Frank. He spotted me, helped me finesse my skills, and got me a development deal with Fortune Records. It’s been a whirlwind of a year since I met Frank, but I wouldn’t change a thing.

I try to get back into the head space I was in earlier, taking a deep breath and donning my signature smile.

OK, now I can get to thinking about this fashion shoot.

Monsters and Humans do not mix. Ever.

My family have a pretty relaxed attitude, but I know that it’s not the same for others. Humans are raised to hate Monsters, we’re told that they are abominations. That they shouldn’t be allowed to share our spaces. Both groups feel the same way about the other, and stick to their own sides of the city.

I don’t really know how I feel about it. I’m not the type of person to hate a stranger, never mind a whole group. Maybe doing this shoot could help with that though. I could mingle with some Monsters, make a decision as to whether or not they are quite as terrible as we are all told to believe.

I contemplate why Noma is even doing all this. There are some political groups, usually younger college aged Humans, who believe that we should all mix. They think that we would all be better for it.

It’s become quite a heated topic of debate lately. I just wished I had been paying more attention to those conversations now.

My goal in life is to make music, but it’s also more than that, it’s to make people happy through my music.

“Are you alright, Flora?” I’m snapped out of my thoughts, Rosie leaning over me to set down my breakfast.

“Umm, yeah. Just fine, thanks.” I pick up my cutlery to dig in to my delicious looking avocado toast.

“That’s a lie, if I ever heard one.” She sits down on the chair across from me, flinging her dish towel over her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so serious.”

I set my cutlery back down, resting my chin on my hand. Rosie knows me well, too well sometimes.

She mirrors my body language, waiting for me to speak. “Fine. I’m not OK. I got the strangest phone call from Frank.”

She leans forward slightly, practically drooling for the gossip.

“How do you feel about Monsters?” I switch tactics.