Stockholm Syndrome

Chapter 4: Back Pain

*Raleigh's POV* 1 year later

Come on let me hold you, touch you, feel you, always. Kiss you, taste you, all night, always.

The words rang out across the rented house. We had decided on renting a house to record in for a change. The reason that they had wanted to do it was unknown to me, but they asked me to find them a big house. Tom had given it the nickname Never Pants Ranch. The family that owned it had let us use it for about six months, which meant we had six months to do this record. We also had six months of challenges to overcome.

Tom was still acting weird around me, and I couldn't bring myself to understand what was going through his head. I had tried to get it out of him but it yielded no progress because of the air of mystery that surrounded Tom DeLonge. I stopped fighting it eventually.

In the later months of 2001, Tom had started a side project with a few dudes and they called it Box Car Racer after Blink had taken a break from recording for a while. It had a lot of the same Blink elements, but with very dark overtones. The members were Tom, Travis, David Kennedy and Anthony Celestino. I was their publicist because Tom couldn't get enough of me apparently and I found it very challenging to go back and forth between Blink-182 and Box Car Racer. Thankfully Blink was on a little break, so Tom spent a lot of time writing lyrics and riffs and things for BCR.

During the recording/writing process for Box Car, however, I began to notice an emotional pain within Tom. His brown eyes began to fill with some sort of sadness and his childish sense of humor had gone. I hadn't been around him for a while due to some trouble at home and trying to find myself an apartment. I had finally bought a car to cruise around in, thankfully. Working as their publicist, you think I'd be around them 24/7, but I found myself doing other things as well, but still centered on the band. Bands in this case. When I noticed that emotional pain within Tom, I became worried. It was hard seeing my best friend suffer like that.

I found it in me to confront him one night about what had been going on with him. As I pulled into his driveway, I had noticed that the lights were off and the house seemed eerily empty. Only one car, his silver BMW, was parked in the driveway. I figured Jen was on a business trip. Anyway, I knocked on the door. Tom was probably wondering what I was doing at such an ungodly hour. No response. I pulled out my phone and called him. I heard the faint noise of a phone from inside the house but nobody stirred. I knew Tom was home, so I grabbed the key from on top of the door and let myself in.

"Tom?" I asked, as I wandered through the quiet house. My feet sounded like gunshots. There was shit strewn about the kitchen and broken glass like there had just been a fight. A sight I was used to seeing before. I noticed that couch cushions were off and thrown about the house as well. One of Tom's guitars lay broken on the lounge floor. This wasn't good. I went upstairs to Tom's bedroom, which I hadn't been in before, and I saw his tall body lying on his huge bed.

"What the fuck happened here?" I asked, noticing that dresser drawers were opened and cleaned out somewhat. The only conclusion I could think of was that Jen and Tom laid some shit down earlier and that she was no longer with him. I slowly approached the bed, tripping over clothes. He looked up at me with swollen brown eyes, and I knew that my theory was right.

"Tom...I'm sorry..." I said sympathetically. I took a seat next to him on the bed and he tried to hide his tears but it became too overwhelming for him. He had worked up the strength to sit upright, but his head was buried in his hands, and he was letting out startling sobs that shook the bed. Tears formed in my eyes too, but I could fight those. I put my arm around his back and gripped his opposite shoulder, pulling him into my chest. I stroked his thick brown hair with my free hand. I don't know how long we stayed like that, but I knew that he soon fell asleep in my arms. I would have fallen asleep as well, but it would have been way too awkward. I had at least made myself comfortable enough on his bed to where I was laying down; I must have dozed off and on all night.