Stockholm Syndrome

Chapter 17: Feelings

The next afternoon, I awoke with a headache to the smell of the food from room service that my girlfriend had ordered. Pancakes, waffles, bacon and sausage. My favorite. And a blueberry muffin for after breakfast dessert. I rubbed my bare chest and then rubbed my sleepy eyes as she set the tray in my lap with the food on it. She had my brown shirt from yesterday on and I'm pretty sure she was wearing underwear beneath it. We definitely had sex last night, though I barely remembered it.

Raleigh sat next to me in bed with a plate of her own.

"Morning sleepyhead," she said, stuffing her face with a pancake while smiling at me.

"Don't you mean afternoon?" I replied, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

"Yeah, my bad. It's almost 2, you have a few interviews from 4-6 with the guys and then blink plays up there at around 9. That gives us a few hours to do whatever. Nap, shop, fuck, whatever you want," she suggested, giggling at the end.

"Three hours isn't long enough to show you how much I love you with my dick," I replied.

"You're such a romantic," Raleigh laughed sarcastically.

Unfortunately in those few hours we didn't fuck, nap or shop. I spent most of that time drinking to prepare while Raleigh had meetings with people from the record company and made phone calls to secure our spots on the European tour next spring. MTV was following blink around, so we had to get along with each other for the sake of the fans and whoever the fuck was watching us.

Travis drove a '59 Cadillac down the street to the building we'd be playing on top of. On either side of the street were screaming fans, decked out in cold weather gear as well as blink merchandise. I gave a few friendly handshakes and waves to people as we were ushered into the warm building. For the sake of television, our reputation and to keep the fans hushed, Mark, Travis and I got along that night and the songs went flawlessly.

**Raleigh**

The blink European tour was due to start the middle of April, which gave everyone January through March off. Tensions were becoming very high amongst the boys as I had started to notice an increase in the amount of fights between them. I personally had not witnessed any fights but I could feel a strong sense of negativity surrounding everyone when we were all in the same room.

Interviews were getting to the point where Mark and Tom would barely ever interact with each other, whereas interviews from just a few years ago always showed them touching or grabbing at one another. Travis hadn't changed much; he was usually the mediator of the group. Answered questions were kind of short and brief as of late. There are things, I'm sure, that weren't mentioned directly to me, but what could I do?

I was seated on Tom's couch in his lounge while he was seated against the wall with his legs extended, crossed at the ankles. The tour was starting in two days, so we were taking time to relax with one another, along with preparing for the stress and craziness of another blink-182 tour. A wine glass rested next to Tom and I noticed that it had become low.

"Tom, do you want more wine?" I asked as he strummed a soft melody.

"If you're headin' out that way," he replied, finishing the glass and holding it up for me to take.

While walking out to the kitchen a couple rooms away I heard Tom's phone ring before realizing that it was laying out on the middle of the counter. I found it odd that he'd be getting a call so late at night, but I looked at the caller ID out of curiosity. The number, of course, was from a restricted caller, which made it even odder. As soon as I got a second look at it, Tom rushed into the room and nearly ripped it out of my hand.

"Jesus Christ, Tom," I exclaimed as he nearly slammed into the granite counter. He shoo'd me away from the kitchen as he answered it.

Because I was now suspicious and a bit taken off guard, I leaned into the doorway and listened to his suddenly lowered voice talk into his phone.

"Yeah, our first show is going to be in California before we head out to Europe. It's going to be here in San Diego, I believe. I know, it's been too long. I'll give you a free ticket? Yeah, see you in two days....check our website for the date and time." Then he hung up.

Tom leaned against the counter and hung his head before he sighed loudly, and his gaze traveled upwards to meet mine. Surprise washed over his face.

"Who was that?" I wasn't going to dick around.

"Kari," he said, "she wanted to see me before I headed to another country." Tom shuffled his feet and started walking towards me, then past me back to where we were previously relaxing. I simply watched him walk by me before following him back in there, figuring I'd shake off whatever he just planned.

*Tom*

I totally was not ready for another tour, especially since Mark and I couldn't have one simple conversation without arguing. It was beginning to send me over the edge and burn me out. To spend another 2 months with him bashing my head into a wall (figuratively, of course) and telling me how much I suck without blink or without Jen. Fuck. The only thing I could really focus on now was my music as the tour started up. First stop: our hometown in San Diego.

Before the San Diego show, I was outside of my bus storming around, half drunk, half angry, before a familiar scent caught my nose. I froze.

It was one that I hadn't been around for years. Caught in a whirlwind of wedding invitations, flowers and "I do's", late nights at dinner, lots of wine and heartache, I stood completely still. My head instantly hurt as it spun in circles.

"Tom." The all too familiar voice said. I crushed the Red Bull can that made itself known into my hand, turning around to face my pain. I realized I hadn't been ready to face this again, but I was intoxicated so it helped big time.

"Jen," I replied slowly, my voice cracking.

She looked the same, if not better than she did when I let her walk out of my door two years ago. My heart caught in my throat and I leaned against the tour bus, placing my hand on my face.

"I wanted to see you again and apologize for just walking out on you like that. We didn't even talk it out like we should ha-"

"Please, don't refer to you and I as 'us.' Why do you even fathom for a minute that I'm even contemplating the possibility of taking you back?" I put it bluntly, but then felt like a dick immediately, because that may not have been what she was getting at.

"Tom, calm down. I was just coming to say sorry is all. I miss you, you know..."

"Yeah..." I began. My head was still swirling, "you too."

"The new CD sounds good, by the way. I think it is on top of the charts."

"I'm aware of all of that stuff, but thanks anyways," I looked down and rubbed the back of my neck nervously.

My guitar tech Doug came running, huffing to me that I had 5 minutes to get ready for the show. He greeted Jen, adding how it was pleasant to see her again. We watched him go before I looked at her, "It was nice seeing you, again. I'm sorry for being such a dick. You know how I get with show anxiety."

"It's totally cool. I'll talk to you later?" She asked. My heart leapt.

"Actually, we're heading to Europe," I began, "but you can always call me or something I guess if you want to resolve the divorce."

Why the fuck was I feeling this way towards my ex-wife? I loved Raleigh, not Jen, I told myself. Multiple times. Not Jen. Fuck though, I married Jen and we dated for like 5 years. So I must have felt something more, right? At the bare bones of everything.

"Alright, I'll see you later Tom," she said, turning and walking away.

My fist balled up and I slammed it as hard as I could into the side of the bus, denting the bottom of the letter 'b' in 'blink-182.' This just added more stress to me on tour. I popped a couple of Vicodin before pulling my grey hood over my head and headed across the street to the venue.