Prologue
Everyone is entitled to have certain defining moments in their life. Some of them are good, some of them are bad, but all of them shape you into the person that you are and determine the future that you set for yourself. At some point, you will be so beaten down and broken, reeling from the blackened bruises suffered by hitting rock bottom, that you will smile and be uplifted by the knowledge that it literally cannot get worse. You have nowhere to go but up. Life can only get better from here.
Unfortunately, there isn't an equilateral warning for the flip side. The moment when all the pieces of your puzzle are finally in place and the world makes sense. The moment when you take a deep breath, look around and smile with the satisfaction that you have "made it." This is the point where books and movies usually end with "happily ever after" or "then she got all she ever wanted" or "all her dreams came true." Nobody ever tells you that it's a vicious cycle. You assume your rock bottom will be followed eventually by your sky high, but never get warned that there is another rock bottom waiting for you to fall into it. And fall into it, you will.
Now here I sit, woefully in my second rock bottom. It seems like only yesterday I was enjoying my sky high. That is where my story should have ended. How fair is it that my descent started only hours after I reached the top? And not just your average, every day romantic comedy top… The Top. I didn't need a man at The Top; it was a man that took me to my first rock bottom. I rose to The Top like a phoenix from ashes. I took my broken heart and soul and turned it not into gold, but into platinum. Literally, platinum.
I poured vodka in my mouth and my heart onto the pages of every piece of paper I could find. I'd never been so drunk or so honest in my entire life. I have no idea how my poetry ended up in a song database for a major record label. Maybe I submitted it in a rare moment of self confidence. More realistically, maybe my roommate submitted it in hopes that something would happen and I would come out of my six month drunken stupor.
How it happened doesn't matter, what matters is that it did happen. It changed my life. In just a few short months I went from being a heart broken college sophomore wallowing in self pity to an accomplished song writer, creating musical magic with an artist whose career was supposed to have been over.
David Cook. You might recognize the name from the on air talent show American Idol. It had been three years since he won the show when we met, and his career was a standstill. He had been browsing songs for inspiration when he came across some of mine. "Endearingly, hopelessly tragic" he called them. Of course my writing was poetry, but being a writer himself he was able to work most of them into a melody. When we met for the first time and he played guitar while singing the words that I had written, I cried like an blubbering idiot. We were bonded from that moment, two artists' souls coming together to create a masterpiece of heartache. We called it The Break-up Album. Not exactly a genius title, but it got the point across. It flew off the shelves like bottled water during a hurricane.
That brings me to The Top. It was mid-February in Los Angeles, California. A long way from home for this southern girl, but that night I felt like I was at home. Only nine months after our first meeting, David and I accepted a Grammy for Song of the Year. Backstage, we sipped champagne and celebrated. I was star struck. The Grammy's are quite a big step for someone's first red carpet event. I felt like I was going to pass out almost every time I met someone. Sure, David was a star, but I had gotten used to him. Here I was being congratulated by people whose Walk of Fame stars I had taken pictures with earlier that week.
It was that very night that I began my descent. I was sitting at a table, enjoying a rare moment of silence alone and gazing in wonder at my Grammy. For some unknown reason, I felt compelled to look up. And there he was. Unkempt wavy dark hair, sexy five o'clock shadow, and big brown eyes looking right at me. He smiled a perfect, charming smile. My heart skipped a beat or two. I smiled in return and then quickly looked back down at my Grammy.
"Hi." His voice was velvety smooth as he sat in the chair next to me. I could hear the smile in his voice before I even looked up. He held his hand out to me politely, "I'm Darren."
Darren Criss. How to describe him? Devilishly handsome, but in a non-threatening way, if that's even possible. I first saw him in a YouTube video where he played Harry Potter in a musical theater troupe's own version of the popular book series. He was clever, funny and talented. It was months later that he appeared on Glee, a quirky musical TV series, and he won the hearts of millions. It had been smooth sailing for his career since then, with numerous Billboard hits and even a successful stint on Broadway.
I smiled back calmly and took his hand. "Natalie."
It wasn't exactly a hand shake. It was sort of old fashioned actually, and I half expected him to kiss the top of my hand. Instead he said, "Its really nice to meet you, Natalie. I just wanted to say congratulations on your win. I've heard the entire album, and its really moving."
It was such a sincere and unexpected compliment, how could I not have blushed and smiled at that? "Wow, thank you," I stammered. I felt the need to let him know that I knew who he was, and that I appreciated his work as well. "I've been trying to play it cool tonight surrounded by celebrities, but I have to geek out for a minute and tell you that I'm a huge fan. 'Not Alone' is one of my favorite songs ever." Okay, I probably should have thought that through before I opened my mouth.
He laughed and it was beautiful. "From a songwriter such as yourself, it's a true compliment." He glanced up to the bar on the other side of the room where David was getting us another round of champagne. "So are you and David…?" he trailed off, not really completing his question.
I shook my head, because I knew what he was getting at. We had to answer that question often. "No, no, not anything like that. We get asked that a lot, like people think working on an album of sad break-up songs is romantic or something." I laughed nervously, and I was relieved when he laughed with me.
"I guess I see your point."
Several seconds later, I became aware that we were in an awkward silence. I must have gotten lost in his deep, soulful eyes. I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks as I rushed to think of something to say.
"I decided to just get a bottle." I was started by the sound of David's voice as he took his seat across the table from me. He looked over at Darren and smiled knowingly. "Hi, I'm David."
"Darren," he answered, reaching out and shaking David's hand. "I was just congratulating Natalie on the success of your album. Its really great."
"Why, thank you. We worked very hard on it." David leaned back in his chair with a bemused smirk. He glanced and me and raised his eyebrows a bit.
Once again, we were surrounded in an awkward silence, which was odd considering that the room was actually quite loud. I could not have been more embarrassed. David was looking at me, I was looking at David, and Darren was looking back and forth between the two of us trying to figure the situation out. It was horrid.
"Right. Well, I should get going," Darren said, finally breaking the silence. He stood up and turned towards me. He smiled his heart wrenchingly beautiful smile, touched me lightly on the shoulder, and said "It was very nice to meet you, Natalie. Congratulations again."
I sighed inwardly as he walked away and fought the urge to turn and watch him go. I shot David a menacing look as I heard him chuckle from across the table.
"What?" he asked innocently, holding his hands up in the air.
"Could that have been more awkward?" I said accusingly.
He shook his head and poured champagne into the two glasses. "Probably not, if I'm being honest." He slid one flute across the table to me. "Don't worry though, I've seen that look before. I've given that look before." He glanced briefly behind me, and I could only assume he was looking at Darren. "You will be seeing him again soon, trust me."
I couldn't help but smile a bit at those words. We had a strange friendship, David and I, but it worked for us. I took a long drink of my champagne, and decided to enjoy the rest of my night. Of course I spent most of it pretending to casually glance around the room hoping to make eye contact with Darren again, but he was gone. I didn't see him again that night. But David wasn't wrong- I did see him again soon.
