Tom DeLonge's Intern

Chapter 11: Fear

     By the time the first day at the new office had reached its end, I grabbed a bottle of water before I left for the day. It was a cozy nook tucked in the back of the first floor, with a large spacious countertop and a table or two to boot. Honestly, I hadn't achieved much in terms of work for the day- my thoughts were running a million miles an hour after learning that I was going on tour with blink as well as the fact that Tom seemed to favor me. Mostly, I had been thinking about how Tom had opened up to me while we were in the car after we grabbed lunch. I was concerned for him- I knew his emotions were hidden well, and I knew that he had a lot on his plate. The last thing he deserved was to be sad and broken over his circumstances. While I appreciated him opening up to me, I also had to err on the cautious side as to protect myself. As far as I knew, he was still married and the last thing I wanted was to interject in his personal life.

     I was on the way to unlock my car when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I nearly jumped until I realized it was just Tom, who had found me in the parking lot yet again, a recurring theme throughout that particular day. Either he actively sought me out, or we just had impeccable timing together.

     "You really have to stop doing that. My anxiety is already bad enough," I said, turning around to face him with my hand on my chest as a means to get my point across that he scared me.

     "I'm sorry, I just- well, I have no excuse for doing it, actually," the tall musician smirked, chewing on his silver lip ring that shone in the late afternoon sunlight. He gazed down into my eyes sheepishly, and I realized that I couldn't be mad at him for startling me.

     "Hey, what's wrong?" I questioned as I looked up at the guitarist, and though he was smiling I saw sadness in his eyes. I must have reflected that look upon my own face as I mirrored what I saw. He looked like he was about to say something, but instead he just shoved his large hands deep into the pockets of his grey Dickies. He shook his head to indicate that he was not okay and looked down at the concrete beneath our feet.

     Without much of a second thought, I threw my arms around his tall frame, pulling what I could of his large body into my own. I felt the smallest hint of hesitation on his part before his arms returned the embrace. His hands on my back were comforting as they pulled me into him. There was a brief moment of silence as I held him against me as a means to console him in any way I could. I didn't know what else to do or say, after all, as we weren't extremely close yet. Just hugging him felt like I was overstepping, but I wanted to show him that I cared about him. We pulled away what felt like a short time later.

     "If you want to talk to me, Tom, you have my number. I'm a phone call or text away," I said, shyly looking at my shoes.

     "Really? Because you didn't reply to my UFO text right away last night," he laughed, but was clearly still upset about it. "But then again, I was drunk. Not drunk enough to not know what I was fuckin' seeing. I did see that UFO." Upon mentioning the aerial phenomenon, his face lit up slightly, the smallest glint of light in his sorrowful brown eyes.

     "Yeah, I'll keep my phone on. And when you tell me that you are seeing a UFO, I will get out of bed and look out my window. Hell, I might even call you. Or send you a picture of the sky at what I'm looking at so you know that I believe what you're saying," I let out a small laugh under my breath but held eye contact with him.

     "You took that to a whole new level, but alright, I'll have to test you out," Tom said coyly, giggling and turning a slight shade of red as he did so. "I'll hold you to that." He lightly punched my shoulder jokingly.

     "Ouch, Tom. That hurts," I feigned pain and grabbed my shoulder semi-dramatically for comedic effect.

     "Bullshit. Hey, you have a good night Chloe. I don't wanna keep you here any longer than you have to be. I'll see you at 8am sharp tomorrow morning. Thank you for listening to me, again," Tom said as a quick attempt to change the subject. He scratched the back of his neck anxiously. "I-uh...I'll see you tomorrow."