Song of the Invisible Boy
A Story In The Glee Universe
By DavidB226Morris
Summary: Tommy Grayson had so much drama in his real life that he had no desire for any in his extracurricular activities. But somewhere in his spirit, the ghost of a performer lived. One day, he decided to let it out. And that changed his life forever.
Disclaimer: The teachers and students at McKinley High belong to Ryan Murphy and all of the gifted writers and creators at Ryan Murphy productions. I'm just borrowing them and hope I can do them justice. Tommy and his family belong to me. Any resemblance to anyone in TV is purely coincidental.
Introduction: I can't imagine this hasn't been done before in some form, but here's my spiel. This story will take place at McKinley High during the eventful Season 2 of Glee. Though I intend to use the members of New Directions fairly frequently, in essence, this is a story about an original character I've had in the back of my mind for the last few months. Some characters on this show are going to take a little heat, based on some of my personal views on their characters. I ask for the patience and clarity of my fellow readers. I also ask that you be kind as this is my first real attempt at Glee fanfic.
Also, I'm going to be quoting more than a few songs, but having never done songfic, I don't know the procedure. I intend to quote the artist at whenever I feel it necessary.
Review early and often, but try to be gentle.
Prologue
The idea that when you grow up, life is completely different from high school is one that your fellow teachers press upon on just about every student.
It's total bullshit.
Real life is exactly like high school. It doesn't matter what you accomplish in the real world- you could come up with a cure for cancer, develop the next IPod, have your own sitcom. If you are ranked as a jock or a nerd when you get started, that's pretty much where you stay for the rest of your life. The few who manage to escape this social jungle intact, will find themselves dealing with the problems for college, and whatever your life is. Even if you have a great gift for something, it will often be buried under the detritus of life that surrounds you. How many John Lennon's, Ted Williams', and Franklin Roosevelt's have never had their talents seen because of the indifference of the society around them? If we hear a mermaid singing, would we know if it was singing for you?
For every Rachel Berry or Quinn Fabray in the world - the ones determined to stand out in a crowd, there are dozens of others who are just as talented, but because of their position in society, they don't risk letting their talents flourish.
Tommy Grayson might have spent the rest of his time at McKinley being one of those people. But unlike them, he chose to remain invisible. It suited his temperament. He'd had enough drama early on in his life to know that he didn't want any in a place he was required to spend seven hours a day at. And though none of the members of New Directions really gave him a moment's thought (which was particularly ironic, for reasons you will soon discover), they probably would have all traded places with him in a heartbeat. Who wouldn't trade being slushied every day for months on end for being completely ignored?
This had not happened by chance. Long before he had entered McKinley as a freshman, Tommy had managed to get through the last four years of public education becoming nearly invisible. In an era where social media has completely taken over the lives of just about everybody, Tommy had done his level best to remain a complete cipher. He used the internet for every purpose but socializing, and when he talked about anything online, he used a screen name that bore absolutely no relation to anything about it. Most of his entertainments were solitary ones. He managed all B's and A's on his report card, but participated the absolute minimum in any single class. His I.Q. level was in the genius range, but he stayed out of the AP and Magnet classes in junior high and McKinley. He knew as well as anyone the dangers of being considered an intellect.
He received a lot of abuse and name calling his first three months at McKinley, but eventually it ended, when he didn't react at all. When there are easier targets, a bully eventually moves on. It also helped matters that his face was almost always perpetually buried in either a notebook or a normal book, and that, for someone his age, he was freakishly tall. He didn't complain to teachers, didn't bother other students, didn't visit Miss Pillsbury. The educational system is designed to deal with the squeaky wheel rather than the ones that run silent without any noticeable effort.
Left to his own devices, Tommy might have managed to live out his entire career at McKinley completely invisible. What nobody seemed to realize was that Tommy was not a shrinking violet. He just played one in high school. But eventually there comes a time when even the most invisible man needs some kind of release. And Tommy was gifted.
Very gifted.
Tommy loved his grandparents for reasons that will become very clear soon enough, but one of the reasons he loved them the most was that his grandmother had a piano. She had been good enough at other things not to make it her primary occupation, but it was more than a hobby to her. And she was gifted enough to know that her grandson was at least as good as her, if not a little better.
Had Tommy decided to make the piano his life, he probably could have become a prodigy, but as good as he was, he had other passions, which his grandparents nourished as good grandparents should. But he still played a lot. It was that ability that got him into trouble.
It didn't seem like trouble at first. Three months into his act as the Invisible Boy, Miss Pillsbury somewhat reluctantly pulled him into her office. Not inclined to take seriously a guidance counselor who clearly had more problems than he did, he responded to her about the same way he did to the majority of people at McKinley- indifference, with vague assurances that he was 'fine the way things were, and didn't feel the need to expand his social circle.
Unfortunately, too much had happened at high schools and college campuses over the last decade for people to just accept these mild assurances. Since the last thing his reputation needed was to be considered the next potential Uni-bomber, he agreed- somewhat reluctantly- to join the school orchestra. Orchestra, at McKinley, was a euphemism for a piano, three violins, two trumpets, and one drum set. (Most of the budget for the band was co-opted by the Cheerios, and there were limits to just how much Kool-Aid Tommy was willing to drink.)
For the remainder of his freshman year, everything went surprisingly well. Even though he was clearly the most gifted musician, he rarely showed off. The other musicians became colleagues (even here he wasn't prepared to call them friends), and he was part of something. They didn't probe too deeply into his life, and for that he was grateful.
Considering how abominably the residents of show choir were treated almost from day one, one would have expected the orchestra at least as much abuse. It just didn't turn out that way for Tommy and his fellow musicians. Part of it may have come from the same reason that most of show choir basically ignored them even though, to paraphrase Vidal Sassoon, if they don't sound good, we don't sound good. Other people might have been insulted by this indifference. Tommy didn't mind it at all, and neither did any of the others. You didn't need to see more than one Slushy to be grateful for invisibility.
It did hurt not to be credited by the only people who might consider them peers. It was not easy to keep up with the eclectic musical tastes of New Directions - it would've been impossible in just about any other group with a bigger budget- but they managed to do so in an exceptional fashion. With all the hue and cry about their triumph at Sectionals, no one had even bothered to thank them for everything they did, from fall until summer came. Tommy knew better than most that asking for gratitude from anybody was something that was never going to happen. But it did sting, and more than a little.
Then again, considering all of the drama that played out in the year of 2009-2010- the pregnancy, the romances, the defections, the departures- you would've had to light yourself on fire to get yourself noticed. And that wasn't the kind of thing that Tommy was capable of, much less any of his fellow musicians.
So after everything that happened when Tommy's junior year began, he was relieved that when ubernerd Jacob did his little video, he was completely ignored. It suited his temperament very well, and he was willing to spend his junior year being completely ignored by New Directions, the Cheerios and the majority of the student body.
The thing was, the people he played with knew him a little better than that majority. They knew there was more to him than being the man who played piano, and kept relatively silent unless forced to talk in class. Getting him to show that side of him was like trying to find Waldo, but it was there. Waiting. He just needed to find the opportunity.
When it happened, he would spend much of 2010 hating and thanking the boys (and girls) in the band.