Tom DeLonge's Intern

Chapter 17: Stargazing

That night I had a lot of trouble sleeping because my thoughts were racing through my head. They decided to hone in on the fact that Mark stated that Tom was a drug addict. I didn't know what he was hooked on, though. Tom was usually really good at keeping secrets. Mark was at least right about the fact that Tom had a bit of a drinking problem which I had tried to address with him before, but I lost that argument. I even tried suggesting therapy but that idea left as quickly as it came. Eventually I was so awake that I decided to scroll through some of our text messages, most of them short and sweet because I got to see him mostly every day. I deep sighed and tossed my phone against the wall next to me; I missed Tom terribly. Maybe missing him wasn't the right word to use there...I was concerned about him big time. He was on a personal trip to rock bottom from what I could tell, but there was nothing in my power that I could do to help him, which hurt a lot. My eyes closed and I finally fell asleep.

Surrounded by near blackness, I was in a dark alleyway between two buildings. I had recognized this as the street that the Macbeth headquarters was located on. My shirt stained with a red substance, my jeans tattered, I gasped as I consciously came to and stumbled towards the building. An eerie fog surrounded it, which was unusual for San Diego at this time of year. Wind pushed the street signs around as well as the sign that hung on the outside of the shoe company's large building.

The parking lot was pretty empty except for a couple of cars, one I recognized as Tom's silver BMW, badly parked. I turned away from the building to approach his car in the distance. As I arrived to it, I noticed that there was a note scrunched under the windshield wiper.

"If you're reading this, I'm sorry. It's too late to save me."

Panic set in, I felt a hot sensation rush through all of my veins and my extremities. All I knew in that moment was that I needed to find him in that building and fast. Dropping the note next to the front tire, I dashed for the Macbeth HQ building. The door was unlocked and I ran through the hallway at the front of the building, through the double doors to the vast open area of cubicles and offices, searching frantically for him.

"Tom! Tom please..." I called out, checking all of the rooms. I checked his mini studio with no luck. I checked the upstairs offices with no luck. My office with no luck. I checked three out of the four bathrooms that we had. No Tom. By the time I got to the fourth bathroom, the building seemed to grow darker. I kicked open the door and stopped dead in my tracks.

His lifeless body lay immobile on the tile floor. His black hair was swept over his pale face. There was an orange pill bottle in his hand that was clutching onto it. Glass lay on the floor next to him and blood soaked one of his grey sleeves.

"Tom, oh God no. No no no no," I panicked, running over to him and trying to give him a few pushes on his chest. Nothing. There was nothing left of him. He was gone.

Panicked, I shot up from my nightmare and grabbed my chest. My heart was beating rapidly and my head felt foggy. I began to cry without knowing directly what was wrong with me. The dream was the worst one I had in my whole life as I recalled. It slowly came back to me. All I know was that I had to make sure Tom was okay and that he was alive. Running over to his bus wasn't an option because we were on the highway, so I did the only thing I could do; call him.

He picked up on the first couple rings, "babe? What's up? Do you know what time it is?" My heart started slowing down. He was okay.

"Oh thank God. I just had a terrible dream that you..." I trailed off, trying to keep my voice down as much as possible.

"I...what?" Tom asked, the hoarseness of his voice kicking in.