Victor Montrose had been beating out rhythms since he was born. Born into a musical family, he was the toddler who stood next to speakers, hands on the pulsing fabric, head bobbing in time to the music. He would sit for hours on the floor of the family kitchen, wooden spoons in hand, happily beating out his own version of a song on the bottoms of his grandmother’s pots and pans. Loved going to his older brother’s football games, standing at the fence to watch the drum line run through their routine on the field. Then, as an older teen, performing at those games, impatiently waiting to be called on for a crowd-rousing, heartbeat-speeding solo intended to bring the fans to their feet, helping drive the players forward to a win. Power. That was what drumming meant to him.

Vic has worked in the industry since he was barely old enough to drive, tagging along on his dad’s studio gigs. Over the past decade he worked his way onto the stage with one band after another, believing promises that fell from the manager and band leader’s lips. Never quite finding a place where he fit, drowning in disillusionment from their lies.

When Ben Jones approached him about joining Occupy Yourself, he fell into it again, that place where everything sounded perfect and he could believe he had finally found his home. Then, Benny survived an overdose that threatened to tear the band apart, but his salvation stranded Vic in the middle of Indiana with their gear. Now, he has to figure out how to keep his musical family together, or decide to give up on the one thing that’s been constant in his life. Music.