You got this, Pearl.

The young Inkling with pink and white tentacle hair knew there was no way she could take part in the annual youth folk singing contest without walking away with anything less than first prize. People were still talking about the cousins from Calamari who had won the contest years earlier, and Pearl was to take part with the very song they sang that year. Why wouldn't she win? She was so much more talented than they were. There was no question: As long as she gave it everything she had, she was going home with the coveted first place trophy and certificate.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Please put your tentacles together and give a warm Calamari welcome to Ms. Pearl, all the way from New Sardine!"

Pearl strutted onto the stage radiating confidence as the audience applauded politely. She took her stance in front of the microphone and drew a deep breath as the entire auditorium fell silent and every ear stiffened to hear her voice.

Prepare to be blown away.

"HAIL TO THE WAAAATEEERS!
FROM WHENCE WE CAME
AND THANKS TO THE SEEEEEA!
TO WHICH WE CAN'T RETURN!
SING TO THE OOOOCEAN DEPTHS JUST IN CASE IT HEARS US!
WE OWE EVERYTHING-"

The next moment the entire auditorium was dropped into panic as a shock wave shook the building. Luckily the emergency procedure was efficient and everyone was evacuated swiftly and safely with zero casualties, but the contest had to be cancelled for the year and all the contestants were sent home empty handed.

Pearl was sulking in her bedroom. She gave an uneven sigh as she pulled a tissue from the bedside and dabbed her eyes before crumpling the sheet and dropping it on her bedside cabinet where it joined more of its kind.

The cold hard fact was Pearl's singing voice was so terrible that it could be used in demolition. She was bound to have learned this lesson sooner or later but she wished sorely that it could have been sooner, and that the lesson did not include humiliation.

There was a knock at Pearl's bedroom door and her mother let herself in.

"How are you feeling?"

Pearl sniffed. She was lying on her side facing away from the door.

"What happened on that stage… It wasn't your fault."

"I know." Pearl retorted. "It was yours."

"Oh, Princess…" the kindly woman was audibly wounded. "I know you're hurting but why would you say that?"

Pearl sat up, still facing away from her mother.

"All my life I've been putting on little shows for you and dad in our back yard. Making a fool of myself. And you kept telling me that I'm so talented. That I'm even better that those cousins from Calamari."

"Sweetheart-!" The mother protested.

"So what if I'm your daughter? Why would you let me think I had a chance? Why would you let me think I could sing in front of a serious audience? Sparing my feelings is one thing, but why would you knowingly set me up for failure like that?"

The mother put an arm around the daughter.

"Let me tell you a little something about your mom that you probably didn't know:"

Pearl looked up at her mother who seemed a hazy blur through the tears.

"I've been tone-deaf for as long as I've lived."

"What?" Pearl had never heard of a tone-deaf inkling.

"That's right." Her mother answered. "I couldn't tell a shanty from the groans of a dying whale."

"So all those times you told me I was talented-" Pearl began.

"I meant every word." Her mother answered. "I was watching. Not listening," she explained. "Maybe you don't have a fancy voice like those kids from Calamari. But that's not what I've been measuring you by. You have a presence unlike anything this world has ever seen. You belong on the stage. Maybe not as a singer, but as something. Promise me you'll never give up. Promise me you'll keep believing. You'll keep coming back until you find your true calling."

Pearl brightened up. "I promise," she said through a crooked smile.

Some years later in Octo Canyon a select group of music heads were buzzing with anticipation. A small mass of Octarians were seated within viewing distance of the biggest stage they had ever seen. No one knew exactly why they were gathered there, but rumors were circulating that had all of them jumpy with excitement.

"Apparently DJ Octavio promised us a show we'd never forget!"

"They say the Octobot King's bass is so unbelievably sick that it's technically a war machine!"

The next moment the stage lights went up. The excitement gradually turned to horror.

"Wait, is that an old inkling?"

"Why is he tied up?"

"Is this some sort of public execution?"

"I know they're the enemy and all but this is barbaric even by our standards!"

"What exactly is going on here?"

DJ Octavio appeared, hovering in a sound system that was beyond anything anyone had imagined. It looked more like a weapon than something that was meant to entertain. The "show" began and everyone present held their breath.

Blowing an Octarian mind was no small feat and by the time everything was over a large mass of them was ranting uncontrollably.

"What a show!"

"I'm still having trouble believing what I saw!"

"It was life changing! I am so psyched right now!"

"The symbolism was just… GENIUS!"

"The old inkling is the old way of thinking and how it keeps us tied up in the bonds of animosity!"

"The young Inkling is you and me! The individual and our struggle to merely exist in this world!"

"…"

"The Octobot King is war and the bad blood that exists between us and them! The relentlessness with which that girl fought! She had me totally sold!"

"Marina?"

"…"

"And then the Squid Sisters showed up! Holy carp!"

"The Squid Sisters represent peace, and the power music has to break our bonds and bring us together!"

"And when the old and the new finally joined up… BOOM!"

"Marina, you've been quiet this whole time."

"…"

"What's on your mind, Marina?"

"…I know what I want to do with my life…"