Dominick

I watch Mike walk to the middle of the room, his tight black pants clinging to him. He had a list of ideas in his hand for a new song, but we all had no idea what to do anymore… well I did, but I didn’t say because I was always stuck in our past, the hard core music we used to write, not the fluffy stuff we have been trying to do.
“Guys… we can’t do this anymore.” Mike all of a sudden says, and I raise my eyebrow. What does he mean? Jesse stands up and yells,
“Mike, stop it. We can do this. Maybe, maybe we have to go back to our old sound.” Jesse was our bassist, and Mike was our singer, so of course their opinions clashed. Calm Jessie and high strung Mike. He was gorgeous.
“We can’t. You know exactly why.”
Mike used to have an issue with drinking and drugs. He let the depression get to him, and the music brings it back every time. It was like a trigger. We all agreed to try and stop being a punk band, and wore brighter clothes and played brighter music. It worked for a short while, but it wouldn’t last forever. I knew this when we first tried, but no one would listen.
Mike, Jesse, and Vick and I were all sitting in the studio, tuning our instruments waiting for our producer to come in and give us some good news. We all knew it wasn’t coming, but we still had some hope. Just a speckle. The room had a certain setting to it, as if we were sitting under a dark cloud, waiting for something to happen. Nothing was going to happen. But we still wanted it.
“No, Mike. You are being selfish and ridiculous. Even Dominick agrees.” Vick shouts, looking to me as if I was going to say something. I never agreed that he was being neither selfish nor ridiculous. All I knew of Mike was that he was a beautiful guy, and an angel.
I may as well give you a background of the band.
My name is Dominick Grey, I am 19 years old, short, and I have black short hair. I have three piercings, one on my left ear, one on my lip, and one on my nose. All of them are black rings. I have tattoos everywhere, one is on my arm, and it was dedicated to me and Mike’s friendship. That was my first one, the first of many Mike paid for me, as he knew how much I loved them. I am very, very pale, but very energetic. My parents are both re married, to doushbags undoubtedly, and I lived in foster care up until I was 16, and I moved in with Mike then. I play rhythm guitar, and I love to sing, but no one can know that, except for Mike.
Mike Pillar has been my best friend since kindergarten, my crush since sixth. He is tall, with no piercings, no tattoos, and the most beautiful hazel eyes with green flecks popping up here and there. He has pale skin, and the most striking blonde hair. I have watched him date girls, then guys, girls, then guys, but not once has he ever thought or implied anything about me. His parents treat me like one of their own; I might as well have been a Pillar. Mike is 22. He has always been ahead of me in things, graduating, losing the v card, and well, everything. He is an amazing singer, and he even dabbles in guitar.
Jesse, oh Jesse. Jesse Clinger has been a good friend of mine and Mike’s since junior high. She is 20. She was always one of the boys, with her short hair; dyed different colors every second week. She was darker skinned than me and Mike, but she always caked her face with pale makeup to fit in with me and Mike. She plays bass, a talented girl she is. Jesse transferred here to Saskatoon years ago, when she became friends with us. She is protected well. We would never let anyone lay a finger on her. No one would, with our reputation.
And then there was Vick. Our sarcastic brat. Vick is turning 16 right away, Mike’s younger brother. Vick Pillar wants to be me basically, but on drums. He basically makes himself look like me, without being too obvious. He follows me like a young puppy chasing its mom’s feet. I find it funny, but I am flattered really. It is nice not to be the baby of the group.
And that makes up Romantic Frenzy.
We were discovered in a club on a typical Saturday night, waiting and waiting for our chance to get out there.
People loved us, our image, our music, our age and the sex we exhibited. I and Mike played on stage. It all started there. The girls and gays loved it, two young men practically making love on stage alongside angry raw music. Mike was not sober, and I was trying to keep him around. There is no lying, it wasn’t just on stage. He slowly made me fall in love with him, the smell of the beer he clutched to, the smell of stale cigarette. His wicked smile in the night, his raw voice. It all got me. Clung to me. We made love every night. We kissed and hugged and everything. We were the fucked up couple, the drunk and the young boyfriend.
His fascination with me ended as his addictions ended.
And that left me there, clueless as to what to do about my feelings about him. I was still madly in love. And he forgot.
He was attending meetings, planning, organizing. It was all up to the agents now.
They put an end to our thing on stage, and that put an end to me and him. Well, he getting sober did. He has a spouse now, so does everyone else. And I was madly in love with a married man.
“Hello? Earth to Dominick?” Mike was in my face now, and I had to hide the rosy tint flying to my cheeks.
“Hmm what?” I come out of my thoughts, and shove Mike away.
“What do you say? Should we disband? It just isn’t working anymore. It really isn’t.” I feel tears welling up in my eyes, and my throat clenching and unclenching. I was going to cry, but not in front of him. I nod, and get up with in a millisecond.
“Dominick?!” Jesse yells at me, and I storm out of the studio. Enough is enough. I need to move on. I need to do something.

Five years later
“Time becomes for us…” I whisper, as I hold my daughter in my hands, grinning as she cooed.
“Why must you keep singing all of those… songs? Those were you and… his. Nick.” I roll my eyes, and smirk at the thought of Mike’s face.
Mike went on to sing in another band, with a darker sound than what we had. He is looking really good for turning nearly thirty. Age hadn’t gotten to him, as it didn’t get me. Funny though, his fear of listening to and singing dark music again, caused him to make even more than what we had. My daughter started to giggle, and I smiled down at her, seeing something I had never seen before… a sparkle. I gasped, and kissed her forehead. Beautiful.
I swore, in my punk days that I would never grow up. I and Mike both did. I ended up growing up though, a wife and a kid. And so did Mike. But Mike was married and remarried three times before he was in a long marriage. Now, he is a millionaire, with five kids, three records and a beautiful wife. Living the life.
I myself am working at a record label, a boss actually, and I am making good money as well. A daughter, and well, ok. Not a really beautiful wife. She is beautiful at heart, and I love spending time with her, but I don’t feel… physically attracted to her. In all reality, I am gay. But it isn’t like I am scared of being gay, it is my family. Before, I had Mike to be… me with. He protected me. But now, but now he wasn’t. He wasn’t my knight in shining armor; he is my old black and grey memory. I needed to look normal. So I settled down with the first girl who would, and I now have a bundle of joy to keep me here.
I haven’t seen the Pillar’s or Jesse in a long time. I just, I haven’t had the time. But now here I am. 24 and settled. I might be able.
I just, I am scared. I am different now.
I am not hyper, I am not able to go out drinking, and I am really, really not able to see Mike. I miss him, a lot. I guess you could say I am still in love, and deep.
“Hey, do you think you can run to the mailbox? The post office called and said it was overflowing.” She sounded so sweet, and loving. Sometimes I feel like shit for keeping her with me. I nod, and give Natasha to her. She smiles at her, and I grab the keys off of the kitchen table.
“Thanks babe.” I nod again and smile, sliding my aviators over my eyes and slamming the door closed. I started up my car, the ignition of my Trans Am being incredibly difficult. It finally started up, and I mumbled,
“Car zero, Dominick one.”
I made my way to the post office slowly, having a couple cigarettes along the way. The city lights bothered me, the glow corroding my sight. I hated the city in all actuality, the people in it, the stupid drivers in Saskatoon, and the most, the memories of our band. I ended up where we started, while everyone else went on to do something better than me. Working out of a label here, really didn’t satisfy me. I was sick of watching everyone else’s dreams come true, while I had mine crushed by the unhopeful hearts of my band.
What sickened me the most about this city was that there were still spray paintings by our old fans, with our logo for Romantic Frenzy.
I finally reached our post office, and made my way in. I remember this place, and I passed by the Pillars mailbox. 69. I remember when Mike, Vick and I would always make fun of the number, like any other teenager would. I feel another tear slip down my cheek and I scowl. Every fucking day I cry over Mike. I have to fix it sometime… maybe a counselor.
I open up the box and sort through bills, flyers, coupons, and finally the letters. Some were from some family in jail, and I came across one with familiar writing. I tear it open… Mike.
Dear Dominick,
Hey old friend. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now. But the thing is I have been thinking about you like crazy.
I know that it seems that I have been a asshole for going onto another band and everything, but… I needed to. I am not nearly smart enough to make it doing anything else. I have been wondering how you have been doing. I have looked you up on Facebook and sent you a friend request. I guess you ignored it. Your profile had you and your wife and a baby girl. They are both very beautiful. You are working at a label company, you have always been good at that type of thing. Looking for talent.
Anyway, I guess I will get to the point of this letter. I and my band are coming to Saskatoon soon, and I was wondering if you would want to hang out. I know it might seem like I am just popping out of nowhere, but I sent you some tickets in the envelope. I sent the rest of the band some, and actually, Vick is with me on tour right now. He is a producer now actually. Little guy grew up. Anyway, Jesse will be coming down your way, so expect her. I miss you man, and I really wish we were still friends. I understand if you don’t come. But I will be waiting at our old stomping grounds, so will Vick. So come to the show and meet up with us at the Stomp’s. Alright? It’ll hurt my feelings otherwise… ok? Anyway, no pressure ;)
Love you man.
Mitch xXx
P.S Stop in and see my mom. She must be lonely. I know you probably shut everyone out. Can’t wait to see you.
I wipe the tears off of my face, and smile at the letter, grabbing the tickets. Dominick… he used my name as a band name.