ᴅᴇᴍɪᴛʀɪ ʟᴇᴡɪs

Demitri Lewis's life didn't begin with a bang or a boom or any other kind of explosion-related onomatopoeia. That part comes later on. With full intention, obviously.

The quiet lull that marked his entrance into the world was, as he sees it, only begging to be interrupted. His parents, Harold Lewis and Gillian Lewis (née Sanderson), had insofar followed every cookie cutter instruction society handed them: get married, buy a house in the suburbs, become pregnant with their first (and only) child all within the first two years of their nuptials. Demitri's arrival didn't come as a shock or even as a blessing, but it did help to confirm their success in the strive towards marital bliss.

Which isn't to say they didn't love Demitri, because they did. Harry's job in hospital administration meant demanding hours and occasional traveling, but it allowed Gill to focus on being a full-time mom, and he tried to spend as much time with Demitri when he was around. Being an only child meant that the whole of his parents' attention fell onto him, and Demitri eagerly embraced the spotlight. He was an entertainer from an early age and thrived off of the joy of others. Any family get-togethers or celebrations saw Demitri trying to deliver punchlines at the dinner table or singing songs that he'd made up about everyone sitting around him. He did imitations of lines from his favorite cartoon programs or movies he overheard his parents watching. When he started elementary school, Demitri quickly became the class clown.

In 1996, when Demitri was just eight years old, his father suffered a fatal heart attack. Harry was only thirty-eight years old, and no signs indicated that anything was wrong prior to his death. The family was devastated by the sudden loss. Gillian cried for practically a year straight, while Demitri just shut down. It was the first time in his life he'd been exposed to tragedy and, as a young boy, the only feasible solution seemed to be closing himself off to the volatile emotions threatening to burst out. The happiness he normally exuded faded away. His focus in school slipped, and he was forced to speak with a counselor.

Without Deon Sanderson, Demitri's maternal uncle, it's unsure to say what permanent damage the Lewis family might have endured long-term. He stepped into the shoes left empty by his brother-in-law and became some what of a paternal figure in Demitri's life. It was with his uncle's encouragement that Demitri was also first sincerely introduced to music. His uncle lived and breathed music, and he suggested Demitri try and learn an instrument to take the focus off of darker matters. The piano in the Lewis's living room hadn't been touched in years, but all it took was some tuning and a pair of hands itching to play. Demitri fell in love the first time his fingers tickled the ivory.

He re-emerged from his shell, encouraged to succeed in ways that would have made his father proud. He tried out for school productions, worked hard in the classroom, and stayed diligent with his piano practice, performing in local recitals and competing against other kids his age. A slew of other instruments came next: guitar, bass, drums, even the ukulele. He joined a few bands throughout middle school and high school, even played some local shows around Denver's smaller venues. Despite having the voice to pursue his own music career, Demitri set his sights on composing. He wanted to construct and unite all of the separate entities that, together, created mood and emotion and a visceral experience.

And he wanted to get out. Badly. It wasn't that he hated where he lived so much, or even that his hometown held memories of darker times in his life, but he'd always been an adventurer at heart. He wanted to be somewhere new, far away, where he could reinvent himself in terms of his passion. He applied to many places his last year of high school, the only requirements being that they were far away from home and had a top music program. In the end, he was accepted at the University of Michigan, where he got a joint degree in composition and musical theatre.

After graduating, Demitri believed that a new world of opportunity awaited him. He packed up all of his belongings and moved across the country to pursue a career in composing for film and television in Los Angeles. The fast-paced, creative environment on the west coast was something Demitri had dreamed of experiencing, and it took no time at all for him to assimilate to the local culture. He scored a handful of shorts and independent films but was never able to make a bigger splash than that, despite an inexhaustible effort. To keep himself afloat, he fell back onto his love of entertaining and started to perform at comedy clubs and venues throughout the area. With his electronic piano, guitar, and one-in-a-blue-moon ukulele in tow, he stood on stage and belted out comedic and satirical songs he'd written in the prospects of making others laugh. This proved profoundly more successful than his ventures in composing, which was exciting but also extremely disheartening when he'd been dreaming about making it as a successful composer for years.

Seven months ago, seemingly out of the blue, Demitri returned to Denver and moved back in with his mom. No one expected him to ever return to Denver—least of all himself—so his sudden reappearance inspired whisperings amongst those who knew him or went to school with him. If anyone asks, Demitri tells them that he ran out of money and that the west coast wasn't "creatively conducive" like he'd been hoping. The truth is that, in the three months prior to his move back home, Demitri was completing a rehab program he voluntarily entered himself into. The only people who know this are his remaining family members and closest friends. At first, he found being back in Denver suffocating and nothing but a temporary means to an end. Some time off until he could get back on his feet. Now, he's come to terms that the situation may be more permanent, and he's trying to make the best of it.

These days, Demitri tries to keep his head down—except when he doesn't at all. He's been working part-time at a local bookstore since arriving back in town, and he continues to live at home with his mom. She hasn't pressured him to find his own place yet, and Demitri isn't exactly hurried to pack his bags. One thing that hasn't changed is his drive to break big with musical comedy. He tries to perform at least once a week at an open mic, and he's put some videos up on YouTube, though nothing has gone viral yet. No topic is too raunchy or racy for him to write about, except he hasn't had the courage to touch on the events of the last year. That's alright, though. He figures if he's loud enough, people won't bother asking.