The Prince of Punk Rock (33 page)

Angel’s forehead disclosed a
troubled frown. “Nice.
 
That’s really
fuckin’ nice, Tommy.  I’m trying to help you, and you throw something like
that up in my face.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Forget it. Forget I said
anything.  When you’re ready to tell people you’re my boyfriend, let me
know.  I’m done trying to talk to you.”

Angel tried to stomp upstairs, but
Jessi stopped him.
 
She had been silently
watching their argument.
 
“Calm down,
Angel.
 
Talk to him.  Don’t get
mad.  I know how you feel.”

“Do you?”
 
Angel raised his brow.  “Your
relationship is out in the open. Everyone knows you two are together. 
They think I’m just trailing along like a lost dog.”

 Jessi was deep in thought for
a few seconds, before she turned to Tommy. “Baby, Angel’s right.  Why hide
it?  I’m not embarrassed of the way we live.  It’s
our
life.  People are going to give me shit too, you know.  What do you
think my family’s going to say?
 
I know
people aren’t going to understand, but who cares?”

“I care.  Stop ganging up on
me.  I’m still trying to deal with everything.
 
You two are OK with who you are. I’m not.”

“What do you mean you’re not OK
with who you are? You’re sweet, kind, and talented.
 
You’re loving and you have a good
heart.  Why do you think me and Angel love you so much?”

“Tommy,” Angel took a step
forward, “let’s just tell Jimmy and Damien.  We’ll tell them not to
say anything.  We’ll start there.  OK?”

“No.
 
Stop pressuring me.”
 
He marched upstairs and sat down on the couch
in the spare bedroom.
  
Jessi was
right. Why the hell did he care what people thought of him?
 
So, he wasn’t the rugged college football
jock that his family thought he was.
 
Who
the fuck cares?   His father, that’s who, and he was afraid his
younger brother wouldn’t idolize him anymore.

 Tommy leaned his head back on
the couch and pushed his fingers through the length of his hair.  There
was always a fight going on inside his head.  He couldn’t think about it
anymore.  His head hurt.
 
He put his
hands over his eyes and stopped thinking.  Random words popped into his
head, then formed sentences. He was subconsciously explaining to Angel
exactly how he felt.
 
He was explaining
the turmoil and ambiguity of who he was, the fear and pressure society put on
him, the fear to openly love whoever you wanted.  He wished he could’ve
said those words to Angel, instead of storming out of the room.

Tommy was surprised Angel stuck
around this long.  Angel was wonderful.
 
So was Jessi.  He loved them both so much and for so many different
reasons.  He suddenly stopped feeling sorry for himself and realized he
was a very lucky man.  He had the most beautiful, unselfish woman in
the world, who stood by him, no matter what.
 
She believed in him, when he didn’t believe in himself.  He owed
all his success to her. Without her, he probably would have given up on his
dream a long time ago, and he would have led a miserable life, denying his true
identity.

Then there was Angel, wonderful,
sensitive Angel, who fulfilled his every desire and need.
 
Angel was the only person who truly understood
him.  Angel was the only person he shared a kinship with. He couldn’t live
without either one of them. He needed to tell them how much he loved them.

He picked up his guitar and
strummed a soft melody.
 
It was nothing
like the fast-paced punk rock songs he wrote with Angel, and completely
opposite from the hardcore thrash metal he wrote for his old band.
 
Words flowed from his mouth as his fingers
skipped across the guitar.
  
He didn’t
need to think.
 
The song was already
composed.
 
It only needed to escape his
subconscious.
 
It was brilliant, touching
and heartfelt.  It portrayed every emotion trapped within his heart.
 
He should have turned to his guitar a long
time ago.
 
Music was always the answer.

He went downstairs, guitar in hand,
to play the song for Angel.

Before he said anything, he stood
there and looked at Angel and Jessi for a few seconds.

“I’m so sorry, Angel.
 
I don’t know why you put up with me.
 
All I do is push you away.  I would die
if you treated me like that.
 
I love
you.
 
I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt
how much I love you.”

“And, Jessi, you sacrificed
everything for me.
 
Why?
 
Why would you do that? Why do you love me so
much?”

“Is that a serious question?”

“Yes.
 
I don’t understand how you could put my
feelings and my happiness before your own.
 
Everything you do is for me.”

“I love you, baby.
 
I want you to be happy.”
  
Tears welled up in her eyes.
 
“I wish you loved yourself half as much as we
love you.”

“She’s right,” Angel said.
 
“My whole world changed when I met you.”

“No, my whole world changed when I
met
you.
 
You
made me look
inside and see who I really am.
 
I was
afraid to do that.
 
I was afraid I
wouldn’t like what I saw or who I was.
 
You gave me the courage and the strength to do that, Angel, and I’m
eternally grateful.”
 
He held up his
guitar.
 
“I wrote a song.
 
It’s about all the shit I put myself through,
all the shit I felt inside – the turmoil and the hate – and without you, I
wouldn’t have been able to see that the real me, isn’t so bad.
 
And without Jessi, I wouldn’t have been able
to get through any of the shit that was in my head.”

“Well, let’s hear it.”

Tommy sat on the couch and put the
guitar on his knee.
 
He pulled out the
crumpled piece of paper from his pocket that contained the lyrics.
 
He knew he couldn’t sing for shit, but the
meaning and the feeling were there, and his emotion was pure and raw.

When he was done, Jessi was crying.

Angel was beaming. He took Tommy’s
face in his hands and kissed him.
 
“That
was beautiful.
 
You just wrote our new
hit song.”

For the first time in Tommy’s life,
he felt at peace.
 
He had two people who
loved him.
 
They were the only two people
in the world who mattered.
 
Calmness
washed over him, and it left him serene and tranquil. It was an epiphany.

“Everyone knows how much I love you
Jessi, but no one knows how much I love you, Angel, and I want people to
know.
 
I want
everyone
to
know.
 
I don’t want to hide my love for
you.
 
I’m not ashamed of it.”
 
He slowly nodded his head.
 
“I’m ready.”

Angel and Tommy stayed up all night
working on the song.
 
Angel sang it a
dozen different ways.
 
They were all
good, but he needed to get into the studio.
 
He needed Jimmy to put down a beat and he needed Damien to lay down a
bass line.
 
He didn’t care how late it
was, he called them both and told tell them to get to the studio first thing in
the morning.

“Dude, it’s four in the morning,”
Damien complained.
 
“You could’ve waited
a couple of hours to call me.”

“I’m too excited.
 
You know the first time you hear a new song,
and you can tell it’s going to be a big hit right away?
 
Well this song is like that, and it’s not
even finished yet.”

“Really?
 
It’s that good?”

“Yeah.
 
It’s that good.”

“I can’t wait to hear it.
 
It’s perfect timing for the
Battle
of the Bands.”

The
Battle
of the Bands was next month.
 
Angel totally forgot about it.
 
It was a showdown between a long list of
local bands, voted on by the neighborhood fans.
 
Each week more bands were eliminated, and the winner would get to open at
the America Rocks Festival.

The America Rocks Festival was an
annual event on the Fourth of July that celebrated music and freedom.
 
It was an outdoor event that drew thousands
of people.
 
It was highly televised and featured
an array of top performers, followed by a lavish display of fireworks.
 
The event always attracted major record
labels.
 
Damien was right.
 
This could be the big break they needed, and
Tommy’s new song would guarantee them their spot at America Rocks.

Angel and Tommy got to the studio
before anyone else.
 
As they went through
the song again, Angel wondered if Tommy planned on telling Damien and Jimmy
about their relationship today.
 
He
thought about asking Tommy, but decided against it.
 
He didn’t want to pull any focus away from
the song, and he didn’t want to put any additional pressure on Tommy.
 
He would just have to wait and trust that
Tommy would live up to his promise, sooner rather than later.

Damien arrived a few minutes later
and gave Tommy a big bear hug.
 
“So how’s
our new hit songwriter?
 
You rock, dude.”

Jimmy was the last one to arrive,
but he got right behind the drums and played a few new beats.
 
When Angel called him last night, Jimmy
wouldn’t hang up until he heard the song.
 
Jessi held the phone while Tommy played the guitar and Angel sang.

“I’m on it,” was the only thing
Jimmy said, and Angel knew that he didn’t go back to sleep.
 
He knew that Jimmy started banging on the
drums at 4:00 a.m. to get a jumpstart on the song and conserve studio time.
That’s what Angel loved about Jimmy.
 
He
was serious about music.
 
When they
weren’t playing, he was tossing back a bottle of Jack Daniels with a girl on
his knee, but studio time was for practice and the stage was where he made
music.
 
All fun and games came
afterwards.

Damien was more of a good-natured
goof off, but he always brought his A-game and he bled punk rock.