Tom DeLonge's Intern

Chapter 18: Alcohol

A few short weeks later, it was finally time for the final leg of the blink tour in a few European countries. Personally, I felt very nervous, as I had never been out of the country and that far away from home before. I was also excited for the new adventure, especially with Tom. We weren't going to be riding on the same plane. In fact, the blink guys were going to be on one plane and the crew on another. Tom wasn't too thrilled about having to sit in a small private jet with the two people he had seething anger towards at the time, but he had to do it for publicity reasons. If he chose not to ride with them, there's no telling what the media would blow it up into. He was at least smart enough to try to stay out of public feuds. For that time being, at least.

We all met up at a small airport just outside of San Diego, where there were assorted sizes of planes. I pulled up with other crew members in a van to the loading and unloading site. Tom, Mark and Travis arrived a little while after the crew did, while we were all loading shit onto the plane. It was unbelievable to me that 3 people could have so much musical equipment.

In the midst of me unloading and loading boxes of shoes, advertisement printings and various Macbeth equipment, Tom came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder gently. I whipped around quickly because I wasn't expecting it, and my expression softened once I glanced into his warm brown eyes.

"Yes sir?" I asked him, a smile making its way onto my face.

"Just wanted to say goodbye before we jet out of here," Tom replied, laughing at his own joke, "are you going to be okay?"

I looked around behind him at everyone scrambling to get their shit together before replying, "yeah, I think I'll be okay. Are you going to be okay?"

Tom leaned against the side of the small airplane, crossing his arms, "I don't know. I'm hoping we can get along for the flight. I'll try to get some sleep, maybe have a few drinks to help me along."

"That'll be good for you. Don't drink too much though..." I began, glancing behind him once more to see people loading onto the planes. He looked behind him as well and then back at me, then down at the ground.

"Alright, I guess I'd better get going. I'll see you across the pond," Tom said, leaning down to kiss me on the head. I hugged him before letting him go to his airplane.

A few short minutes after I boarded my flight, the plane was off the ground. I was nervous, but I had one of my best coworker friends next to me, talking to me as a means of distraction. It helped a lot; we mostly talked about the tour and merchandise or shoe ideas. Before I knew it, Europe was coming into view. The weather was overcast as we began our descent into the UK, which I guess was to be expected from all of the stories I'd heard about it. Our first show was a festival in London, the Reading Festival. Blink usually put on an excellent show when they played festivals, since they were able to perform outside with a large stage.

We landed at a small airstrip just outside of London, but I had no idea what time it was. The sun had started going down, so I assumed that it was ahead of San Diego time. After everyone walked off the plane, we were shuffled through the airport and into the buses that we'd be on for the European tour. Our first show was going to be the Reading Festival, and from there we'd make our way East, then circle back and end the Self-Titled tour in Ireland. After that, I presumed they would take some time off from music, seeing as how the last record took almost two years for them to write, record and produce. It sounded very good though; I hadn't read one negative critique of it anywhere. Tom would find something to do since his ADD wouldn't allow him to sit still for longer than two minutes. And I'd be at Macbeth trying to sell shoes. Per my usual routine.

The ride from the London airport to the Reading location only took about an hour and a half. Our buses parked outside of the venue around 9pm that night. I was exhausted but I wanted to see Tom at least one time before he played a show tomorrow. I doubt I'd get to see him hardly at all the day of shows anyways because of all of the things that we both had to do to set up. After eating a dinner of noodles in a cup, I stepped off the bus to get fresh air and call Tom. But before I could even take my phone out of my pocket he was approaching me.

Tom came up to me and hugged me hard, squeezing my insides. He reeked of alcohol, which was normal for him, as unfortunate as that may seem. His head dug into the nook between my neck and my shoulder.

"Nice to see you too, Tom," I remarked, patting him on the back. His shirt was soaked with sweat but I personally didn't care.

"I missed you so much," he said. Maybe he should drink more often if he was going to be this clingy, I thought. No, that's bad.

"I missed you too-" I began but was cut off when Tom kissed me. Jesus Christ.

He grabbed me from behind and pulled me into him hard, his hips slamming against mine. I pushed him off of me, though I was thoroughly enjoying it.

"Are you okay?" I asked, after he gave me a questioning look. His eyes were almost bloodshot but he didn't smell like pot in the least bit. He just smelled like heavy booze. His pupils were wide but he had bags under his eyes. There were a lot of offsetting symptoms of something other than just alcohol. I still didn't think anything of it.

"Fine. I just missed you," he replied, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"I missed you too. How much have you had to drink?"

"Probably 10," he said, "10 of them....and a bottle of Jack. And a couple shots of whiskey. I don't even know but this bus was fucking stocked with shit."

I sighed. His drinking was getting worse, but I refused to acknowledge it. I refused to acknowledge the fact that he seemed to be getting worse as the weeks went on, but I attributed that to his stress with the band that he almost seemed so desperate to try to get away from. But how could he do that when they were playing sold out shows across the world? Would he do that? Knowing him for nearly 2 years didn't mean anything when it came to predictability; his ADD made it hard for him to be predicted.

Suddenly, I remembered what Mark had said about Tom having a drug problem. But what drugs? He was smarter than that. Or so I thought, anyways. I looked up at him, but he was glancing off in every direction behind me. I placed my hands on his shoulders to get his attention.

"Tom...if there was anything wrong you'd tell me right? I mean, if you had like a drug or drinking problem..."

"Jesus Christ. Why is everyone saying that?" He said, removing my hands from his shoulders in an attempt to push us apart. "I'm fucking fine. I feel better than ever, actually. God dammit people need to keep their fucking mouths shut. Holy shit."

"Calm down, I was just asking a question," I retorted. I hated when he drank a lot, he got so mean and defensive.

"I'll calm down when people hop off my fucking dick. What drugs could I possibly be doing anyways? I hardly smoke pot anymore, I'm drunk as fuck. I'm loaded. I feel fine," he reiterated.

"Alright Tom. You're fine. I'll let you get going though, you have a long day tomorrow," I said. I suddenly got mad at him. I knew he was lying, I knew he wasn't okay. And if he wanted to lie to me about it instead of getting help, fine. I didn't want to bear the thought of breaking up with him, but I couldn't just sit around and watch him drive himself into the ground either. There's only so much anyone can do to help another person.

"I'm sorry," he began, looking down at me before giving me a sloppy kiss, "I'm fine though. Have a good night. I'll send you a naked picture or something."

I was mad at him but I laughed, "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow sometime. Have a good night. Please don't drink anymore."

"I won't."

"Tom, I mean it. No more alcohol."

"I don't hurt anymore right now anyways," he said, hugging me and turning around to go back to his bus.

That hurt me. There was definitely something going on with him, but what?