It had been over 9 months since Jessie left for South America to find her mother. James had nearly given up hope that she was still alive. All he could do was hope.
It was a hot day and there was not a cloud in the sky. James was outside working harder than he ever had in his life. His head was starting to hurt.
The back yard was filled with scrap metal and the work bench was covered in loose wires. A strange device sat in the middle. James and Captain Bob had been writing music together and managed to become quite popular. Bob was frustrated because the only way he could really get any of his ideas out was with James's piano, and being a Bidoof, it was not really easy to do. There were no instruments for pokemon.
James took a step back and examined the contraption. Similar instruments lay on the ground. None of them produced quite the right sound. This had to be the one. Lucky number 23.
Captain Bob was on the porch perfecting an attack he learned in his previous life at sea. Thunderbolt.
"Bob!" James called to his pokemon. "Come try this one out!"
"Doof." Bob stopped what he was doing and lumbered over.
James picked up Bob and placed him on a small platform surrounded by all kinds of tubes and wires. It almost looked like an Octillery.
The Bidoof displayed amazing control and precision as he focused beams of electricity through each channel, slowly ascending the chromatic scale. It sounded like a synthesizer, only it was more efficient. With the pokemon providing the electric current, the instrument only required enough electricity to make each individual note sound.
It looked like a Bidoof standing on an Octillery. James thought about calling his new invention the Bitillery. Silly as it was, he at least had a name for it.
Everything sounded good to him, but James grabbed a tuner just to check one last time. Everything checked out. In theory, the Bitillery was able to play six octaves. Now it was up to Captain Bob to practice and become skilled enough to do so.
"Doof doof doof doof." Captain Bob did a little victory dance. They finally had it right. James laughed and joined in.
James put Captain Bob on his shoulder and the two retreated out of the hot sun.
For the past 8 months, James had spent his time writing music, working on the Bitillery, and even landing a few public performances. He had become well-known and liked at a local open mic night where he played every week. Some people came just to hear his newest songs. After a few weeks of this, he brought in so much business for the small dive bar that the owner gave him free food and drinks every time he came in.
The first time James visited the bar, it was a Friday night, the first time in days he had left the house. He was so depressed after Jessie left, and all he wanted to do was drink and forget. The memory of exactly what happened was a little fuzzy, but James recalled making a pass at a cute boy who turned out to be not only straight, but a serious homophobic.
After the first punch was landed, James fell back, wiped the blood from his mouth and laughed. It was nice to know he could still feel something. He got back up and started swinging. Just as James was about to land a game-winning hit, a huge Machamp grabbed him like a rag doll and tossed him out the door.
It wasn't until about noon the next day that James remembered the little detail that not only was he winning the fight, but he nearly killed the guy. If Machamp hadn't picked him up, he would have killed someone...
That was a big wakeup call. The next week James was walking past that same bar when he heard music. It was open mic night. He stood at the door and listened. It was horrible. He chuckled to himself. No wonder that place was getting no business. No talent.
Over the next few days James went back and forth in his head deciding if he should go play. When he eventually did, it was the best decision he ever made. He more than made up for his little fiasco on Friday.
One night, after a good performance, he was approached by a man named Rodolfo who was a talent scout for an underground record label. He wanted to hear more of his stuff.
"I uh' I-" James stammered. "I would love to! When should I come by?"
Rodolfo handed James a card "Come to this address at 3 on Monday. Now I can't guarantee my boss will sign you, but you are the best I've heard so far. I'll let him know you're coming."