| Summary: Darren's career isn't going so good... “Hey Darren! You have got to get to this press meeting! Your album is going down hill fast, and if you don’t get some coverage then the label will drop you like a rock in a year! It’s a two-year contract sign, and you took the whole first year making your album for god’s sake! They were very nervous about signing you in the first place! You have to be serious about all of this, especially when your album has sold but maybe a hundred copies so far after it’s initial release!” Leonie was all but biting my head off, screaming at me to hurry along. I shuddered to think I had to go to another meeting, my fifth in the past three days. True, my album was doing badly. Ok, so actually it was bombing embarrassingly, but oh well. I had never been completely confident in my abilities to do the whole solo thing wonderfully, though I led everyone on to think I was overly confident. I also made myself look like an egotistical, pompous, asshole at times, but that’s another story. I didn’t want to go to a press meeting. I didn’t want to be asked the same five questions over and over for who knows what magazine. “I know I have to get going, Leo. Just give me one more moment and I’ll be out and we can go on over.” I said, trying not to let the agitation show in my voice. I fidgeted with my hair nervously; I had gotten into the habit of doing that since I went out on my own. I was constantly nervous. I wondered briefly if I really was doing a good job of hiding it, or if people were just ignoring it for the sake of what little sanity I had left. Could they see how thin the string that was holding me on the edge was now, or was I still an expert at hiding my true feelings and embellishing my love for the world? I frowned at myself in the mirror, thinking how absolutely hideous I looked this morning. “I’m coming now Leo…hold on to your knickers…” I mumbled as I walked out the bathroom door and grabbed my coat from the hall closet of my home. “About time! Gods, let’s go now, before they all pack up and leave!” Leonie screeched, grabbing my hand and pulling me out the door and straight to the car. I stayed silent as much as I could until we got to the meeting, and then I plastered on my best false smile and was all talk and happiness. Yeah. Right. The journalists asked me the same questions over and over; “What’s it like to be out on your own without Daniel?”, “Why do you think your album is doing so poorly?”, “What do you have to say about the reviews your album has recently been getting?”. I wanted to scream, but I did that only on the inside. On the outside I smiled politely, laughed, answered questions, and shook hands. I could always schmooze with the best of them, and now was a good time to show off my talent. After about four hours of horrid inquiries and false smiles, Leonie found me and told me I could go home. “Why thanks, mum.” I grumbled as I walked out towards my car. “I heard that Darren.” She said softly. I turned around and saw her coming up behind me. “I’m sorry I was being so hard on you this morning, Dar, but I’m so worried about you being dropped from this label. I mean…I know how much music means to you and all. I just don’t want you to lose the one thing you love right now.” She said, smiling sadly. I nodded in understanding and gave her a quick hug. “Let’s get going, Leo. I’ll drop you by your house, yeah?” I asked, as I opened the doors to my car and slid into the drivers’ seat. “Sure thing.” Was all she said. She got in and buckled up, and didn’t once say a word on the drive back to our neighborhood. I pulled up in front of her house and bid her goodnight as she got out and went inside, but she didn’t really say anything besides her mumbled “G’night”. I frowned slightly. My own best friend was starting to drift away from me. It made me think of Daniel. My musical divorce. Yes…I missed him. A lot. As I pulled into my driveway I briefly wondered if I should call him, but I decided against it quickly. We really had been best friends, a very happy couple for a while, but I had to get over that. I got out of my car and went into my house, locking the door and going straight to my bedroom. I was suddenly very tired and very upset, and I just wanted to sleep, which is what I did. Months passed, all filled with the same boring press meetings and empty questions, a few shows here and there. The album wasn’t doing well enough for a full-scale tour. Leonie started to ignore me more and more. She came by less frequently, called me even less than she came by. The only time she really ever talked to me was when she had to come by and get me for a meeting or a photo shoot or an interview of some sort. My life was getting even duller than I thought possible. All the magic and happiness was gone from my music career. My phone rang out rudely. It was only four AM, who would be calling me, ever, at this time of night…er, morning. I reached over to the bedside table groggily and grabbed up the annoying object. “H’lo?” I asked sleepily. I cleared my throat a bit, and at finding no one was answering at the other end, I tried again. “Hello?” The voice on the other end answered in raspy, breathy words, “Darren Hayes?” I frowned angrily. “Yes? What do you want calling here at four am?” I asked irritably, about to hang the phone up. “I just wanted to let you know…I think your music sucks, and I think you’re a fucking faggot to boot.” Said the voice. I heard the man laugh and then the dial tone met my ears. I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it in disbelief. It wasn’t the first time someone had magically gotten my number and called me to tell me what a faggot I was or how much I sucked, but it was the first time someone had called so late, or early, just to let me know such a thing. I slammed the phone down and rolled over in my bed, fighting off tears. I had been crying a lot lately. I wasn’t ready to give in to the idea that I was losing my musical career. I didn’t know what I would do if I couldn’t sing, and the way things were looking I was going to lose my contract. In two days it would be over. I knew it. I swallowed hard and I closed my eyes…and I accepted it. I cried. I sobbed. My body was racked with horrid, choking sobs and violent dry heaves. I couldn’t breathe. I was hyperventilating from lack of oxygen. I didn’t care. My life was over in my eyes. I was losing my music, which, to me, was like losing my blood. It was my very essence. I curled up tightly in the sheets of my bed and continued to sob and choke on gasps for breath until my body gave in to fatigue and I fell into a deep sleep. I awoke the next day to sunlight filtering into my room. I glared at it. “Go the fuck away…what right do you have to go shining in my window like that!” I screamed at the streaks of light that glided across my floor and bed. I swatted at them angrily, fresh tears pooling into my eyes. “Damn you!” I screamed, so loudly that I startled myself out of my piteous, hateful state. “Ok Darren…take a shower and get some breakfast….Oooo breakfast…I am sooo hungry…” I mumbled to myself as I got out of my bed and padded to the bathroom. I took a long, hot shower and got dressed kind of, then went downstairs and straight to the kitchen. “Let’s see…waffles, eggs, bacon, syrup…bacon? I don’t eat meat…” I looked at the tiny bit of bacon I had left over from cooking Leonie breakfast for her birthday. “Oh well…why care?” I grabbed it up and put it with the rest of the food. Considering I wasn’t such a good cook, I burnt the eggs a bit, but other than that everything was pretty much fine. I ate it all happily, and then set about finding more. “Why should I care what I look like now…” I mumbled sadly to myself, poking about in the pantry and grabbing handfuls of cookies and brownies and whatever else I could find. I also rummaged through the freezer and got out of pint of ice cream. When I was satisfied with my loot of food, and grabbed it all up and walked to the living room, depositing it on the coffee table. I flicked the television on and began to gorge on food and bad American afternoon television. A day, and about ten pints of ice cream and seven boxes of Lil’ Debbie snack cakes, later I got a call from Leonie. “Darren…you knew this was coming. I know you did…they are dropping you. They have to. They can’t keep giving us money and sending us off for promotion prospects when your album isn’t even bringing in any money at all!” Leonie said, trying to keep her voice in check. She sounded wavery, like she was about to cry, but I doubted she really was. “I know Leo…I knew it was coming. It’s ok…really. Thanks for calling and telling me though…at least now I know it’s official.” I said quietly. She went on to say a few more ‘comforting’ words, and then I politely told her I would be fine and that I had to go. When I hung up I cried. I cried harder than I had in my bed two days ago, harder than I ever had in my life…but no tears fell. I leapt up from my seat and screamed. I screamed nothing, no words; just screamed. I was over. My music was over. My life was nothing now. I crumpled to the floor. I accepted it. I was nothing. I continued to sob non-existent tears for what seemed like forever before I once again jumped up. I blacked out at the initial shock to my body that was caused by my blood rushing, but I cleared my head and stared straight at the phone. I had to call Daniel. I wobbled over to the phone and picked it up, cautiously dialing the digits of his phone number. It rang loudly, one, two, four, five, eight times. I sighed and hung up the phone. He wasn’t in. Disappointed, I hung up the phone. I looked about the room, my eyes landing on the clock above my television. It was nine fifteen PM. I blinked hazily at the blaring red numbers and turned my head a bit to gaze up the steps towards my room. Bed sounded good. Darkness sounded good. I walked up the stairs and into the bathroom. I hadn’t showered yet today, so I took a quick one. As I stepped out of the shower my eyes fell on the scale that sat mockingly on the floor in the corner of the bathroom. I considered if carefully and then stepped on it, just for the hell of it. I had gained ten pounds. “It’s only been a week!” I said indignantly to the inanimate object under my feet. I shook my head in disgust and walked out of the bathroom. After drying off I crawled into my bed and curled into a ball, pulling the covers up around me as tightly as I could. My eyes closed and my mind went blank. Two more days of food and self-pity later I was sitting in my kitchen, considering the empty shelves and cupboards with irritation, when I heard a knock on the front door. I wiped at my seemingly always crying eyes and stood, scurrying over to the door and flinging it open, half expecting to see Leonie standing on the other side. I don’t know why I did though. It wasn’t Leonie. It was…Daniel. “DANIEL!?” I screamed in his face, and he backed away a bit, eyes wide in shock at my appearance and outburst. I must have looked horrid, having gained weight and wearing only sweatpants and a long shirt that was at least ten sizes too big. I rubbed at my wet eyes harshly, feeling tears of pure joy welling up. Daniel looked at me and cocked his head with interest. “Hi Dazza…” He said softly, his voice washing over me and enveloping me in pure love and happiness. “Jonesy!” I yelped happily, throwing myself at him and clinging to him wildly, my tears winning the battle and pouring down my face and into the material of his shirt. He did nothing but wrap his arms around me in return and hug me tightly. I felt him lift me a bit and carry me into the house, and I heard the door click shut behind him. I reluctantly peeled myself off of him and looked at him imploringly. “What are you doing here Jonesy?” I asked quietly, blinking at the tears that were still falling. “I heard what happened…I had to come see you…” He replied. I felt his arms wrap around me again, and bliss filled me. I began to sob uncontrollably, and he squeezed me tightly, swaying slightly. He rubbed my back soothingly and whispered, “You’re good Dazza…you always will be…” then I felt him lift me again. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah? You look exhausted.” I nodded. “Alright Danny…” I said. I allowed him to lead me up the stairs and into my room, and then I tugged off my sweatpants and shirt and crawled under the covers. Daniel stood by the bed, smiling softly at me. “Come on Danny…come lay with me…” I muttered, almost asleep. I peeked my eyes open just enough to get a glimpse of my former-lover pulling his shirt off and then I let them fall closed again. I felt him slide under the covers and I immediately curled up to him, sighing as I felt his arms wrap around me again. “I love you Danny…” I said, sniffling, my nose runny from crying so much. His arms tightened around me. “I love you too Dazza…you’ll be fine…” He whispered, and then I felt his lips on my forehead, then my own lips, briefly. He snuggled closer to me and I rested my head on his chest, falling into sleep. I would be fine. |
| That I Would Be Good by: Sep |