Thinking of You

By

Alyson Grant

He tells me about tour experiences and his family.

And what he thought fame would be like, what it actually was, is and… could be.

We talk about his solo album and how he thought he had what it took but after Darius took his tracks and locked them away he kind of lost his passion and started thinking, "Why the hell am I doing this?" and took a break.

A break that has stretched into years.

It was supposed to clear his mind and help search his soul.

He was trying to get his head straight.

He was trying to figure out what he was going to do after Boyz Attack.

He was trying to figure out who he really was away from Bruno, J.P, and Chaz.

He once told me that even though he'd hated being in the group toward the end, it really was like a family in the beginning and that it was tough breaking out of that family setting even though he did have a good reason.

Actually, he had a few good reasons.

Even though leaving the group was good for him he said that sometimes in the days and month directly after he'd regretted it.

But then he'd quickly snap back to reality and remember how it really was.

He'd remember all the control issues and the arguments.

(Do arguments always have to break everyone apart?)

He'd remember the late night yelling sessions, the bold accusations and the lyrics and the pop melodies combined with synchronized dance steps that didn't seem to fit who he felt he was becoming.

He then remembered the inky disgruntled black and didn't focus solely on the glossy promo white.

And then he moved forward.

Because that was the only real path he honestly felt he could go.

The only path he was going to take if he was going to stay sane.

He'd laughed a little when he said that and leaned back in his seat.

The sound had a bitter tinged edge.

I was sitting beside him fingering the levers of the turned off soundboard. As we sat in the control room with a long contemplative silence stretched out between us, I looked through the sheet of glass to where I'd recorded that afternoon.

If I hadn't already known, I would have known something was really wrong or just distracting him because he didn't even try to stop me as I slid the levers up and down.

Up.

And.

Down.

I looked into that recording booth and knew that Tommy had been in studios just like it. Bigger, smaller, more lavish or sparse…he'd been there.

He'd been there and back.

And I felt a little sorry for him in that moment even though I knew he didn't really need it and wouldn't ever want it.

I felt sad that his career hadn't turned out the way he'd expected it to even though he never seemed to mind.

The summer he laid down all those tracks he'd felt so alive. I knew exactly how he'd felt.
Or thought I did anyway…

I understood how it felt to get so inspired by all the stuff going on in your life or the daily bits of drama that you see on a regular basis simply because you're a human being living on a fucked up planet that has far too much of it.

The lyrics and sound just pour out and you're getting every emotion out in this brand new way.

Sometimes you feel you have to or you'll just go crazy keeping every single emotion that you feel locked up and bottled deep inside.

You can't be nice. You can't be gentle. You can't pretend that things are okay.

You can't keep on living a lie.

Each song is special.

Each song isn't the same.

Were they really as rough as Darius claimed?

Or were they simply an extension to Tommy's soul that Darius couldn't possibly understand?


AG Author's Note:

I have a real problem with updating stories that a lot of people read but don't review so if you have opinion feel free to share it.