Stockholm Syndrome

Chapter 10: Skip the Bar

(A/N Smut warning. And I'm sorry if it's bad)

**Raleigh**

I had no idea what in the hell Tom was thinking when he came out to the concession/merchandise area. Especially right after they had played a show. Sometimes I swear that man had two brains that worked separately. I was actually on my way to see him when the fans mobbed him, and even though there weren't that many fans left, I figured he'd be there for a while. Therefore, I slipped away to where the crew members were being idiots around the buses.

"Raleigh!" Lisa, the personal assistant lady or whatever, exclaimed.

"Yeah?" I gave her a confused look because she was really enthusiastic about calling my name. I figured backing away with my hands up was too rude.

"We're all going to the bar for drinks because tonight's show was so kickass," she said quickly, "you gonna go?"

I thought about it, how tired I was, how much I wanted to talk to Tom, how much I wanted to fucking see Tom for more than a second. He was probably going to the bar as well, and I declined Lisa's offer for other various reasons. In that case, I went onto my empty bus and watched as they all walked down the city street. I didn't think I saw Tom, but it wouldn't surprise me if he was leading the line and was already drunk in the bar.

For the time being, I decided that I would lie down on my bunk in order to escape from the madness that was surrounding me that night. Well, more because of the fact that I was so fucking tired and about to pass out. I didn't realize that touring was this hard, exhausting, and cumbersome. I would give everything to be back in San Diego in my apartment on the couch watching stupid late night TV. Or, rather, to be with Tom.

Tiredness overtook me after about thirty minutes of lying on the small and uncomfortable bed. I heard my phone buzz next to me. I looked at the sender, since it was a text message and it was from Tom. The fuck did he want? Did he want me to join them at the bar? 'Cause I really didn't want to do that.

Actually, the text wanted to know if I was busy. "Yeah I'm so fucking busy lying on my bed in the bus." I sent back to him. No reply from him after a few minutes, so I smiled and rolled back over.

A knock at my tour bus door. They had been gone for an hour, and there was no way that they were ready to come back now. No way in hell, knowing those people. In fact, I think that I was the only one that didn't like getting drunk unless I was at home.

I got my lazy ass off of my small bunk and walked to the front of the bus, turning the lamp on next to the table. Another knock graced the door, but it was a little more urgent this time. I sighed, opening the small door.

Tom.

My heart jumped out of my chest. Now I was awake.

"Hey Raleigh," he said, "sorry I didn't reply. My phone died or some shit. Fuck technology."

"That's alright, Tom. What's up? I figured you'd be out at the bar with everyone else."

"Do you really think that low of me? I mean why would I go out when we have a stash in my bus? The stash that nobody but me knows about."

"No I don't think that low of you, I just know you well."

"Obviously not well enough." He said, climbing up the stairs and pushing past me to get in. I took in his scent and my hormones spiked. Shit this was going to be rough, having Tom alone on a bus with me.

He was walking around the bus, probably comparing the two of them. I'm sure his had much nicer things in it and a lot more food. We were running low, but it was okay because the tour was almost over. I leaned against the wall of the bus and admired him from afar.