Tommy is too popular for the cool kids and needs to break up his band and start again with a new name. As soon as the fat chicks in Weezer t-shirts start talking about how fantastic his albums are, he'll loose credibility with the inside crowd and get 86'd. Disenchanted, he'll give into the pressure to sign to a major from his growing fan base and be told to write songs with "more hooks". He'll make one okay album after this, but one obvious single will attract attention from a car manufacturer. His label, owning the rights to the song, will sell it to the said company to be used in a TV ad. In the independent music press, he will be regarded as something of a joke.
After this he will sit awake at night, staring at his reflection in the window overlooking the city, wondering how his life became what it is. All he wanted to do was make straight-up rock music, and now he has invitations to open for Chester Bennington's new electro-hip-popera band on tour.
Drunk and confused, he will put his hand to his reflection and shed a single tear.
The next day, he will march down to his record label and demand to see his manager, declaring that he wants out, but his manager will point out his contractual obligation. Tommy makes music for the masses, or he doesn't make music at all. Not without getting sued by his label.
Frustrated, he will record his four album and two EP requirement to fulfill his contract in the space of just 3 years. They will suck, intentionally, the last few years of his major label career being a big 'fuck you' to anybody who still listens. By this stage, depression and alcoholism will have made him fat, the fan girls will have left and all he will have is gadgets and TV to make him happy. His materialistic needs will begin to outweigh anything else in his life, and soon all he looks forward to is new toys and TV shows. He stops leaving the house, having his meals delivered directly to his lap, he eventually has a toilet installed in his chair so he doesn't have to miss his favourite sitcoms. The lifestyle will lead him to become grossly obese. People stop delivering him food out of protest and emergency services use a crane to remove his fat, malnourished ass to the hospital where they tell him to either change his diet or arrange his funeral.
After eating just two subway sandwiches a day, as well as walking, for a whole year, he loses 750lbs and becomes the poster boy for a large chain of sandwich stores all accross Canada and the US.
Both countries grow to hate his smug shit-sandwich eating grin, but he gets paid a lot of money for his story, buys an island and lives happily ever after.