Drums = Life Rubberbastard || Strawhatladies
A record started playing as soon as Luffy plopped down in front of his baby, his drums. The familiar, light, rhythmic sound of an electric piano started vibrating from the speakers, catching most the customer’s attentions and getting them to lower their conversations. Then, just as you thought this was just your regular old song, Luffy started beating on his drums, giving a new twist to an old classic.
For some cheap materiel stretched over a wooden cylinder and banged with a stick, it sounded pretty awesome. He had good control over it, keeping it quiet as an owl during certain parts and loud as thunder at others.b Luffy kept the beat steady like a clock but with a reverberating sound that echoed to his very own soul and awoke his inner artist. To him, playing was just as important and natural as eating. More than anything, he was enjoying himself and perhaps that was what made it so different than other kids his age who had picked up the hobby.
"That’s my boy," Makino whispered lovingly as she watched, leaning on the bar counter close to the ginger. "He looks like he’s having fun." One day, she knew he’d go places. One day, she knew she’d have to say good bye to the silly child she had watched and helped grow up.
Getting a little caught off guard at the suddenness of the music Nami tilted her head as she listened. The track sounded familiar, and also prerecorded just what was this. This was not what she was expecting, this whole time she thought that there would be actual live performers here; what a rip off.
Getting a little turned off by how things were turning out she wore an annoyed frown on her lips. Looking for her drink on the counter she grabbed what she presumed to be hers and started drinking. It wasn't until she started to hear a new addition to the song that she turned around again with new found curiosity.
Seeing a boy up towards the stage Nami couldn't help but find it weird that he was the only one up there. He wasn't bad, but he wasn't great either. Getting a little bored Nami's posture continued to decline as she leaned on the wooden counter behind her.
eavesdropping on the words spoken by the bartender Nami couldn't help but question, "Is he your son?" Looking at the woman it wouldn't surprise her to much. She was probably the bar owner and it would explain why the boy would get to play like he was now.