Alright, well, I wrote this. It's from Tommy's POV and it's pretty different from what I've been writing recently, so here it is.
I never was an honest man. Never a good man. I'm a selfish man. A cold-hearted man. I spent most of my life trying to get as much money and fame as I possibly could, that I didn't care how many or whose hearts I had to break to get to the top. I was ruthless, unstoppable even. It got to the point where I ruined the only good thing that's ever happened to me. Jude.
I sit here above the never ending city in my penthouse apartment, staring out the cold, damp window at all the flashing lights and I wonder. Why did I let myself get this way? This is never who I was supposed to be; the heartbreaking pretty boy who cares about nobody but himself. No. That's not how I was supposed to end up, but that's who I am. That's the skin that I'm trapped in.
I tried to change, to be the man I was supposed to be, and yeah, it worked out for a while, but it all came crashing down on me. I was happy. I was in love. In love with the most beautiful, talented, amazing girl in the world.
It was all so fucking perfect, too perfect for me. We loved each other and didn't care who knew. We were so happy, engaged to be married even. But then, I was given a choice. I could have it all: the fame, the fortune. Or, I could marry the girl, have the family, and live happily ever fucking after. Obviously, I didn't choose the girl. I broke her little heart and signed my soul away all in the same day without even so much as a second thought.
I hit it big. God did I hit it big. The moment my first single dropped I was set. I had it all, my name in lights, the money, young, hot girls throwing themselves at me, but I didn't have her. It didn't matter though. I was living the life I'd always wanted. Not only was I rich and famous, I was writing my own music and people loved it.
It was great, everything I'd ever dreamed of. Until I got bored with it. You see, that's my problem. I get bored with things. I got bored with dancing around in the baggy white suit, bored of being called 'Little Tommy Q.' I got bored being the bad boy, so I tried out the whole straight life. And then, I eventually got bored with being the normal, happy man. And predictably, I got bored with the girl who stole my heart. So I said 'fuck it all. I'm going to be a rock star.' But then I got bored with fucking a different girl every night and snorting away all of my money. It was dull. I needed a change. But, like I said earlier, I signed my soul away. I was bound by some words on a piece of paper, and I couldn't get out.
Like everything else in my life, I tried to fuck up my big music career. I was bored and wanted out. I started showing up late to recording sessions and writing shit songs. Much to my surprise, people still loved it, loved me. And who am I to deny the world something that it loves so much? No one. So I kept writing songs. I kept touring, fucking, and snorting. I was a hero, an idol. People wanted to be me and I laughed at that. Why would anyone want to be such a fucking mess? Everything I did was owned by a record label.
After a few years and a couple of albums, I was free. Finally. But then I found myself not knowing what to do with my life. It seemed as if I'd done it all: did the stupid boy band thing, became a producer, fell in love, had the big music career. What else was left? I'll tell you what was left. The whole happily ever after thing. I'd never had that. So being the cocky bastard that I am, I went back to Toronto in search of the girl whose heart I'd broken, expecting her to be waiting for the day when Tom Quincy came back for her.
It was like a slap in the face when I found her married with a kid. Happy. Happier then I'd ever made her before and that was the worst feeling I've ever felt. I'd found her number and called her and to my surprise, she agreed to meet me. I was stoked, thought I had it in the bag. Then, we met up for coffee and I tried all of my moves on her, even spouted off some bullshit about how she's all I ever thought about while I was off being a rock star. I was feeling confident as ever and tried to kiss her only to be pushed away and told there was no room for me in her life anymore, that she'd moved on.
You know that whole you don't know what you've got until you've lost it thing? Yeah, that's how this was. When I realized that I couldn't have her ever again, I realized just how much I'd really loved her and how fucking stupid I was to just throw her away like I did. I didn't deserve her. I never did. But she loved me once. And to be honest, that's the only time I've really ever been happy in my life.
So now, here I am, alone in my apartment above the city that's so bursting with life. Nobody remembers who Tom Quincy is anymore. Nobody sings along to my songs in their car anymore. I'm washed up, a has-been. I could have had it all, the perfect girl, the family, the happily ever after, but that's just not how my life works out. I'm Tom Quincy, and I'm an asshole who deserves to be forgotten and alone.