Stockholm Syndrome

Chapter 9: Tension Break

**Tom**

Our first Boxcar show was fucking great so far. It was a hot night in Vegas that night, so my shirt was stuck to my sore back. I could feel sweat dripping down my face, and I knew my hat was going to be soaked as hell. But my adrenaline was flowing, so I knew it was not going to be an issue.

We finished our first song, called 'I Feel So' and I stood at the microphone, grabbed it and said, "Shit! Guys that was rad. Hey, hey, guess what? I'm gonna get laid tonight! YEAH!"

Travis laid down a new drum rhythm, and I began the guitar for 'Sorrow', another song off of the Boxcar record. I noticed my back pain returning. I had to stick it out though, because I couldn't risk collapsing on stage again.

The crowd yelled back at me when I sang out words, which helped my back a little bit, but not as much as I would have liked it to. Ah, fuck it, I thought to myself as I kept strumming. Now that I was thinking about my back, a Vicodin sounded appetizing. I thought about my puke, I thought about sweat, the pale ghost, white skin, and I thought about how Raleigh saved me. But damn, my back hurt like hell, and the Vicodin made me feel so good. I was caught at a rock and a hard place.

Let's just say I chose the hard place.

At intermission, my back was ridiculously sore. I had forgotten the doctor's orders to take it easy for a year after the surgery. But I couldn't stop doing my music. No, I couldn't. It is a part of me. I have to do it or I go fucking crazy. The doctor wouldn't understand that.

Anyhow, I decided that I needed a drink to help the pain. I'm not sure where Raleigh was, or the rest of the crew for that matter, but either way, I was fucking thirsty. After I got a Solo cup filled with vodka, I went around to the hallway where all the other band members were stationed and sat against the wall to help relieve my back. Travis, Anthony, and David were all off doing their thing for the moment being. I yelled at someone to bring me a towel so I could dry my face off. Raleigh came around the corner with one at that moment and I couldn't help but to smile. I erased it from my face though when she looked at me so I didn't feel like a fucking dumbass.

"Great show so far, Tom," she said, tossing it at me.

"Thanks Raleigh," I began as I wiped the sweat from my face, "it feels so fucking good."

"The sweat?" She asked, making a disgusted face.

"No, playing my instrument for people, dumbass," I joked, smiling.

She smiled back, then took the towel from me and said, "yeah, and you have 5 minutes until your ass has to be back out there."

Fucking dick. My back hurt like hell. It felt like it was on fire, although it was not nearly as bad as it had been before my surgery. I had the strongest urge to just go back to my bus real quick and twist open that orange bottle. No. No I can't do that, I have to play a show. Instead of going out to my bus at that point in time, I downed 3 Solo cups worth of Vodka and then headed out to play the rest of the show. It sufficed well enough. However, I can't remember the rest of the show except for doing a guitar solo on my back and nearly hitting Anthony with my guitar when I broke it at the end.

**RALEIGH**

I enjoyed the rest of the show from backstage by watching it on a little television and sitting in a lounge chair with a fruity drink in hand. I wasn't a heavy drinker, but I was on 'vacation' so I could treat myself here and there. The drink was helping my nerves cool off as well, due to the shaky feelings Tom had given me earlier. Part of me hoped he was drunk and wouldn't remember, but the other half was hoping that he enjoyed it too. I just didn't know what to think anymore. Maybe he was just confused and delusional. I had to stop these thoughts from resurfacing, so I kept taking sips as the buzz hit me and I slowly relaxed.