Ange bought me a kelp doll for coming, like he said he would. Or technically Parro bought it for me, since Parro's the one who sneaks out the theater doors and finds me studying a neon painting of a vague green fluttery thing in the empty-except-security-guard-hall.

"Mackere said something was wrong?" Parro signs, gaze darting around the hall.

"It's too loud and bright so I didn't go in," I sign, skin tingling. My gaze darts around the empty hall too. "I was studying paintings," I point to the vague green thing on the wall.

"Oh, yeah, the Monsters of the Deep are kind of known for having crazy shows."

Monsters of the Deep? I shudder. They sound like a mad chaos sort of band; I should've asked Ange what their name was before we came. (Even though I still probably wouldn't have known what songs they'd play--until they actually played, but then I would've gone "oh, duh, of course" and been less surprised about it.)

"Did you," Parro signs, "at least like their first song?"

I nod. "I just came back from the restroom and everything had gone..."

He shows his teeth. "It honestly surprised me too at first. They're singing a little tribute to some baby fish, then all of a sudden they have the whole place rocking out to poisonous jellyfish."

"Poisonous jellyfish?"

"That's the title of the song."

"Oh."

I stare at the green painting on the wall, fingers fidgeting.

"So did you want to do something else?"

I look at him. Then away. "I can look at more paintings."

"All alone?"

I shrug. "I don't want to go back in there if it's more...that," I shrug again. Why did the band name themselves Monsters of the Deep? "Won't...Ange miss you?"

Parro waves a hand. "He'll be fine. Actually, didn't he say he was going to buy you something for coming?"

I nod.

"Then let's buy something," he motions to the exit.

"But...you..." I swim after him. "Where are we going to buy a kelp doll at?"

"The Monsters of the Deep are selling merch across the street. That's where."

"Oh. Okay. But...did you like the concert?"

He shows his teeth and waves at the security guard, who shows his teeth back but keeps his hands folded across his clay-brown uniform. I stare at the doors.

"It was neat, yeah. But I don't need to listen to Monster's screaming songs for a whole hour," he shows his teeth. "Two songs was plenty. Besides, I'd rather spend time with my little sister."

I wiggle my back fins. We swim out of the theater, me with a little squirmy twist somewhere in my stomach, niggling like if I weren't here, Parro would enjoy an hour of Monster's screaming songs and be sad when it ended.

***

Between the time we went into the theater for the concert, and the time Parro and I leave, some people have hung a banner--wider than two teardrop houses--over the building across the street. It proclaims in neon red, "MONSTERS OF THE DEEP--NOW PLAYING" and the glow-up windows beneath have signs like "Monsters of the deep official tour merch!" and displays for black t-shirts and bowls you can buy for your friends and hats and bags.

"NOW PLAYING" makes me itch to ask Parro what game the band is now playing, like, now playing hide and seek, or now playing cage wrestling. But I don't ask. Parro keeps glancing over his shoulder at the theater and I almost say to give me some money so I can buy myself a doll so he can go back except when I try to buy something on my own I hate handing over money since strangers' skins give me slime-vibes and sometimes they don't have good price tags so I can't tell how much I'm supposed to pay and I can't just go ask someone--so I don't tell that to Parro.

We go inside the building--poorly illuminated, since it's night, and the bioluminescent painted display windows light up little outside their displays. MONSTERS OF THE DEEP label near everything. Clothes, kitchen appliances, packages of snacks, posters, megaphones, tiny glass beads, obsidian figurines...

All this stuff must've been here way before the concert started, but they didn't put the banner up yet, and probably covered the display windows with black sheets or something to hide them. It's like they wanted to surprise everyone leaving the concert, like, the band is magic and set this up while you were having fun, now you can pay them money.

Parro wanders, I follow him. The people laid out the store cramped but also open somehow, it's clever, except it's much longer than our store so we can't mimic the wide aisles with see-through floors, the tall clothes racks, the glowing display windows, or the vaulted ceilings with shelves swaying from them.

Parro wanders in loose circles, I follow him. Monsters of the Deep, the band, likes red. Dark red. And pictures of squid with far too many tentacles, angry mouths about to devour the band's red-letter logo. They also like dark canyons with red eyes glowing deep inside, emblazoned on shirts and bags and posters.

We pause somewhere near the back corner, surrounded by tables with black shorts with red tentacle designs. "I don't think the Monsters of the Deep have kelp dolls in their merch," Parro signs.

"Oh."

They don't seem like that type of band, do they?

"But we'll keep looking."

And we keep swimming, in the dim store, red eyes glowing from black shadows, red squid gaping in our wake.

We search the other back corner of the store. They keep music sheets back there, biography books about the band.

We swim around the display windows, despite already having seen those from the street.

We look at the shelves hung from the ceiling, those hold more shirts, and hats, and tiny replicas of string instruments or drums.

To one side of the store's middle, vaguely, there's a sign with "Kids Section!" so I tap Parro's arm to get him to quit staring at a shelf of pink shirts, and I point at the neon yellow sign sticking above tables and cubbies. He tenses up.

"Seriously?" he signs, and swims down into the aisles and displays, red fins vanishing. I follow, but stop by a shelf with miniature posters saying "MONSTERS OF THE DEEP" because the backgrounds have tiny red jellyfish shooting from a volcano. The jellyfish have tiny faces, showing teeth, which makes me shudder worse than the red eyes in the canyons because jellyfish should never have teeth.

Turning away, I drift to a table for squishy dolls. Not dolls. Creatures. Squishy creatures. There's gray jellyfish and red squid, the size of my hand, and I tilt my head sideways to try and figure out who gave them oversized moon eyes.

I go around the table, and the other side has creatures that aren't squid or jellies--they have angler fish. Goblin sharks. Blue-ringed octopuses. My fingers tap, instead of grabbing all of them.

Parro materializes beside me. "I went around the whole section, no kelp dolls. They have candy though, if you want that."

I prod one of the goblin sharks. It looks squishy, but has the texture of stiff woven kelp. "What about these? Even though it's not a person."

What do you name a kelp doll that's a fish, or a shark, or an octopus? Is it still a doll?

"This is probably the closest we're going to find," Parro hesitates. "You sure?"

I glance at him. "I don't know if I should get a shark or an octopus or an angler fish."

He nods slowly. "Those sound like good choices."

I reach for an angler fish. But the goblin shark's beady black eyes look at me sadly. So I poke the shark. The octopus wants to come though too. And the angler fish already feels betrayed. I pull my hand back. "I don't know which one."

"We have until the concert's finished."

A guilty stab. "You should buy something too."

Parro shakes his head. "I don't need another band t-shirt. I already own seven at least."

I blink. I glance around the dim store. "Why don't we sell band merch in our store?"

Parro frowns. "Because we're a family business. Getting official merch to sell is hard, then you have to pay royalties, which goes through a complicated chain process. Also Mum and Da want a pure, family business."

I stare at his hands. He said family business twice. So...he... So... I roll out my neck, stare at the dolls again. The octopus is now telling me she's okay to stay here and be someone else's friend. "What about family business?" I sign. "Do..." I don't know what I'm asking.

"It's nothing," Parro shows his teeth. "I just don't bring it up around Mum and Da anymore and it's fine."

We haven't visited Mum and Da for a long time. "Oh," I sign. I reach for the goblin shark but no, the goblin shark actually wants to stay with the octopus so I touch the angler fish. Rough kelp, slight squishy, pointy teeth that actually belong. I pick them up, and they're sad to leave the goblin shark and octopus but excited to come with me. "Should we get Sta a doll too?" I sign. "She said she wanted one from Ange too."

Parro squints at the table. "I think she'd like the angler fish best, what do you think?"

I squeeze the angler fishy in my hand. "Okay."

Parro grabs another angler fish. My heart stutters. Only half the angler fish have gray eyes, the others look black, but Parro grabs a gray-eyed one so mine and Sta's have the same gray eyes.

"Or maybe Sta wasn't serious," I sign.

"Or maybe she was," Parro shows his teeth. "Come on, I saw some red pencils somewhere, we should write her a note too. So she knows we remembered that conversation."

"Okay," my heart stutters. This is just friends remembering something other friends said one night and being nice. Just friends. "Can we pretend like it's from Ange?"

Parro's eyes go half-lidded. Then widen. "Since he said he would buy dolls?"

I nod.

"Alright," Parro paddles off deeper into the "Kids Section!" and laughs. "Ange's getting Sta a gift and doesn't even know it's happening right now. Should I forge Ange's signature on the note?"

I paddle after him, shrugging.

He flashes his teeth. "I promise you, not even Ange can tell the difference."

"Okay, sure."

***

We go back to the theater. The security guard shows his teeth and waves at Parro, who waves back. The two of us flutter up the wall, near the ceiling, and I hide the doll and the paper note behind my hips, pencils and black paper and my own angler fish in a tiny complementary basket on my elbow. Parro goes into the concert to find Ange, the lights through the door pulse white and red then go pitch dark, flashing red again around Parro's vanishing feet. A fat vibration rattles the swinging door, even reaches me across the hall, then the doors shut and the hallway goes still. I flutter, high up the wall near the ceiling, waiting, squishing Sta's doll in my hand.

I crash.

All at once.

Mentally, emotionally, all my muscles.

I drop clear down to the floor and I just sit there on the glass, basket on my elbow, doll and paper note behind me.

I roll out my neck and shut my eyes like I just need a few breaths to recharge. Just a few breaths. The basket itches my skin so I take it off, I drop Sta's doll and note beside it. I wiggle out my arms.

I open my eyes just in case Parro's returned, he hasn't. The theater door's still shut. I can't see the security guard near the exit from this patch of floor, no one's in the hallway. I shut my eyes, I feel like crying again, my inner organs sit too immensely exhausted to tie themselves in knots about whether Sta likes the doll or not or if Ange will like this surprise or not, who cares anymore, I feel like crying.

Parro and Ange swim out the theater. My limp body catches no vibrations from the theater door, but the flashing lights scald my eyes.

Ange's gills work heavily, making his neck expand and shrink, I stare at him. His gills work up and down, I get sick at the sight and stare away. Parro signs but I just stare at him and his wiggling hands don't make sense, my hands don't make sense, none of my muscles do they just sit there like clay and I figure out through the clay how to shrug one shoulder.

I feel like crying.

Parro sits beside me, Ange sits on my other side, I stare at the floor they haven't seen me like this before, no one time I had to sit in the back room of the store for I don't know how long but only Parro came in and my hands could figure out how to say "I'm tired" and he left me alone like I just needed a nap in the back room but this time I just stare at the floor, too tired to figure out to say I'm tired, shame stabs my clay-heavy organs and my right arm twitches.

Ange signs something. I stare at the floor, arm twitching. Parro picks up a paper and writes on it, shows it to me, the red squiggles swim like squid I shrug one shoulder.

At some point the theater doors explode with people, bodies and arms and teeth and motion and taste of heavily panting people crammed together. That shocks my system into functionality, I'm shaking, vibrations assail my skin, the itchy paper in my lap is asking if I'm okay, I swim up from the floor, water rubs wrong on my fins, the paper sways away. Parro and Ange bob beside me, Parro asks what happened, I shrug. "I'm tired," my legs keep shaking.

"I bought you and Sta gifts, apparently?" Ange signs, lips pulled down.

I nod. I feel like crying.

Sta, Mackere, and Mackere's friend split from the explosion of people in the hall, we form a squished circle by the wall, they talk loud, gills panting, my face prickles.

Why would Sta want a little angler fish doll from the kid's section? I glance at the floor, wait, no, Parro's got the basket now and Ange has Sta's gift. My heart speeds up; maybe we should do this after Mackere and her friend leave, how embarrassing that we got Sta a kid's doll, what if they all wanted gifts but they wanted real shirts, not dolls, my skin prickles, Ange hands Sta the doll and the note and I...

I crash all over again, limbs loopy, brain like a mud cloud, I try to keep myself up and looking like I'm paying attention but I have no idea what Sta's laughing about or what Ange's signing or why Parro's handing Mackere and her friend red pencils and black paper and the crowds exploding out of the theater vanish somehow and I sink to the floor again. Push my head up against the glass wall like pressure will squeeze the mud cloud me into thinking something. I feel like crying and shuddering but I stifle that deep, deep down then all five of them are sitting too and talking about something then the security guard comes and points to the exit and we leave and I swim on my own going home because someone touching arms makes worse. My limbs loopy noodly the water dead but rubbing wrong-skin-fins wrong the basket and angler fish hug in my grip the water dark how we go home the whole way I shudder everything out in my bedroom we got there okay and the quilts scratch my face and we're home I can't fall asleep I can't I want crying.