Vallo Musical: Darlington (SCENE: The Great Library, Special Collections Department. Daniel “Darlington” Arlington III is deep in thought at the desk following Alex’s musical number. He knows he needs to talk to Alex, of course–about everything. About his trip to Hell, about what she went through while he was gone, about his feelings for her, about the complications around those feelings…(maybe not about the guitar part starting to play faintly in the background, creating a soundtrack to his thoughts. Queen’s “Under Pressure” (which of COURSE he could tell from the opening of “Ice Ice Baby” is getting slightly louder as he continues to consider the great issue: he is not good at talking, not about the things that mattered most. He’s polite, a fine diplomat, good at finessing a situation, but he doesn’t discuss FEELINGS. It’s the Arlington family way. No line from a comedian ever spoke to Darlington like that John Mulaney bit about cramming all your feelings down inside until one day, you die. That was exactly how the Arlingtons did things.)
Doo doo dah dah
(Nothing could have surprised Darlington more than those words coming out of his mouth. Not that he’s against Queen, or Bowie, or what was arguably the best 80s offering from either artist—but he’s not the type to sing along in a public place.)
Doo doo dah dah Doo doo dah dah dah
(The realization that he isn’t singing along hits. He’s just singing, solo, as though someone had gotten him drunk enough to do karaoke—an extremely rare event for a young man with maybe two real friends.)
Repression Pushing down feelings Keeping them deep inside Out of the way
(Darlington’s look of horror grows as he realizes that this is actually much worse than karaoke: this is musical parody, and it’s about HIM. Nonetheless, there is nothing he can do to stop it as he begins walking around the room like Freddie Mercury in the live recording.)
Repression It’s just what I do With everything I feel The price I pay
Um bah bah be Um bah bah be De day dah Eh day dah
It’s the terror of knowing what these worlds are about Trapped deep in Hell, screaming “LET ME OUT!” But I can’t say it, what I’m feeling
It’s just repression
Day day de mm hm Dah dah dah bah bah Okay
Looking around, seeking answers more and more Figuring out what this world might have in store
Ee do bah beh Ee dah bah bah bah Um bo bo Be lap But I can’t say it Ee dah de dah de What I’m feeling Ee dah de dah de dah de dah
It’s the terror of knowing what these worlds are about Trapped deep in Hell, screaming “LET ME OUT!” But the one person, who wants to listen, I can’t tell her
Oh I can’t say it, what I’m feeling
Turn away from it all, like a blind man Wrap it up, deep inside, I can hide, man Keep coming up with words but they’re so slashed and torn (Darlington knows this song, so he just braces himself for hearing his own voice wail out) Why why why why whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy (He thinks that could have gone worse, even though he’s no Freddie Mercury, so he shrugs as he carries on with Bowie’s part) The demon it laughs, the repression is breaking
Can’t I give myself, just one chance? Can’t I give love, just one chance? Why can’t I give love, give love, give love, give love Give love, give love, give love, give love, give love
‘Cause love is an old-fashioned word for a gen-tle-man and Love means you must speak your heart and your mind to her It’s easy to serve but to love means you must be honest This is your one chance This is your one chance Time to give up Your repression
(That last round took it out of him—Darlington has broken a sweat doing all that running around the stage, and he just knows someone is bound to come investigate. As the piano plays him out, Darlington slumps back into his chair and waits for the grand embarrassment to come.)