Tom DeLonge's Intern

Chapter 9: New Space

That Monday morning, I got a text from Tom pretty early. Around 3:00 A.M. early. It didn't wake me up, thankfully, but the drawback to that was the fact that I didn't see it until I awoke hours later.

'Can't sleep. Too excited about the new office and I think I just saw a UFO.'

I smiled as I read the text message, then was immediately met with the feeling of being bummed out when I realized that I wasn't awake for his text at the time he initially sent it to me. In fact, I had passed out the previous night by midnight, which was relatively early for me, as I had always been a night owl. I heavily contemplated replying to him, as I wondered if it would be awkward since it had been multiple hours since the missed message. Thinking logically never really came to me first thing in the morning until I had some semblance of caffeine in my system. That fact was especially true before 8am. Nonetheless, I typed out a message and hit send before I could talk myself out of it.

'Sorry Tom. I was sleeping, passed out way too early last night. Excited to start working at the new place today! See you there, drive safe sir.'

After jumping in the shower for a few minutes and coming back out, I noticed he had texted me back almost immediately after I sent him the last message, sending a pang of guilt and anxiety into my gut. It was clear he was eager to talk to me, or someone for that matter.

'Excited to see you... well, I mean, start at the new job. I definitely saw a UFO last night. Too bad I was alone to see it... would have been better if someone else saw it with me... you know, for an extra eye witness for when I tell the world about aliens... :p'

What was he trying to say? That he wanted me there with him to witness the UFO with him? That was probably exactly what he was trying to say. I didn't reply to that text because it was extremely close to the time I had to be out of the house to make it to work on time, as the new office building was a little further away from the old one, so I was in for at least a 30-minute drive or longer, depending on how traffic was. On the way there, my phone buzzed in my lap. Another message from Tom.

'I'm already here. So you can just come in and get settled or whatever... I don't know why I'm telling you this. Ok, bye.'

Again, I held off my immediate instinct to reply to it, mostly because I was focusing on the road as I tried to remember how to get to the new Macbeth headquarters. My plan was to do exactly what Tom had mentioned in the previous text message, and I knew he had contacted me to try to get a reply because I ignored his previous message. Regardless, I knew that my office was on the main floor of the new building; Tom's was upstairs. He had a gigantic office space with recording equipment and guitars, as well as his studio additionally in the basement of the building. He might as well have lived in the building, as it might have been a happier place to him than his broken home was at the time.

By the time I pulled into my parking spot in front of the new office building, it was 7:57 in the morning. With three minutes to spare, I hopped out of my car and cautiously walked inside the blue double doors. Immediately, the smell of fresh paint and building supplies hit my nose, reminding me that this was a newly finished project of Tom's. People were walking all over the place hurriedly, still getting some random stuff in order. The main floor had little office cubicles in a wide open room, but they were empty, and the interior of the building was painted white. Everything was open, though. In fact, I don't think there were any walls unless they separated the main floor from the office spaces that were enclosed in their own little rooms. Couches lined the outer walls of the main floor which created a cozy and creativity-driven space. This was a culmination of what Tom had been working on for the past year; I knew that Tom had some big plans for the future. He was a very ambitious guy with a lot of dreams, and I knew he would do anything to make them happen. I saw a couple of my coworkers getting their stuff together and putting some designs up on a drawing board. A few waved at me as I searched around for Tom. I felt the need to seek him out because I needed to know which cubicle was going to be my home away from home. Also, there was a tiny part of me that just wanted to see him, but I was mostly interested in my work at the time.