Author's Note: Considering my poem, as of now, has zero views, this is pointless... But happy New Year you guys!
Tommy Gnosis sat in his booth alone. It was a rather crowded dinner, but it was better than half of the other ones in New York.
On New Year's Eve.
Where Hedwig was playing time square.
Sighing, he picked up his coffee mug and took a sip. He was lucky that no one recognized him any more. Once the word got out he stole her songs, he was trashed by the media.
Hell, he was trashed anywhere. Even at his own home. Of course, that was a different type of trashed... This was, what, the first time he'd been fully sober in a year? Two? He didn't know. The only thing he knew was after his last concert, he started drinking, and never stopped.
But Hedwig was playing Times Square this year. Who knows what she was going to play. Her normal set? Auld Lane Syne? One of his songs, on his album that failed, that she's only played once?
He smiled, remembering the good old days. He fingered a couple of notes on the table, from Long Grift.
He hummed a few notes, but stopped, in fear he would cry.
He couldn't cry. His reputation had been trashed enough.
Hedwig trashed him, giving out horrible stories about why they left each other.
Tommy was a confused, teenage boy. Why was he attracted to a woman with no breasts, with a deep voice, and hairy legs and underarms? An adam's apple, a male jaw line!
He loved her. He really did. He was just shocked. Anyone else would be too! But everyone took her side in the argument. No one even listened to him, that he sill loved her, that she shoved him out, that she over reacted, that he lost his origin of love.
Just because of a stupid hesitation.
He was scared. He was. If she had just told him it was okay, he would have stayed. Asked questions.
Instead, the woman who gave him a hand-job while his baby brother was laying on the floor... She was out of his grip. Vanished.
His head spun as the dinner started counting down from ten. He pulled the flask out of his jacket pocket.
"Here's to you, Hedwig." The crowd cheered as he took a big swig.
He watched the small television monitor, as the ball dropped, and Hedwig sang Wicked Little Town. Tommy's version.
His mascara ran down his face as he made his coffee Irish.