Out of no•where

Your smile, makes my heart melt

Both Jean and Noah are wearing their pajamas as we wait for Alinne to arrive. Their mother promised a night of fun movies and popcorn on pajamas so they insisted on going with them already.
"Do we really have to go in Alinne's car?" Noah whines, wrinkling his nose. "She smells bad."
"That's the cigarettes," I chuckle
"Martin's dad used to smoke," Jean pipes in, her eyes getting a far-away look.
"Jean looooves Jaaaack, Jean looooves Jaaaack!" Noah starts to taunt.
"Shut up, Noah! You don't know what you're talking about!" Jean snaps, instigating a site, but luckily Alinne arrives right then. The kids hop in, and I slide into the passenger seat.
We drop the kids at Rach's new apartment – Which annoyingly, I have to pay for her even if she still has her architecture company – and me and Alinne head up to the studio. The next thing I remember is two or three gabbing women covering my face in makeup and picking me an outfit. I'm not confused, but I still haven't adjusted to this life, I haven't been on television that much. I sit uncomfortably in my seat as the ladies do their work.
When they finally decide that I look satisfactory, the show still hasn't begun. I sit back on the leather couch, hoping to relax for just a moment, but as soon as I lie my back to the sofa, the door snaps open. I look up hoping to find Alinne, but instead I find a particular man I haven't seen in a very long time.
Seeing his face shouldn't shake my structures as it is now, but suddenly I remember those years I spent in dirty clubs outside of dark alleyways that played punk music all night long and filled your lungs with several drugs and the strong smell of alcohol.
Plus, I would have to live under a rock not to know his face.
I also recognize him from all those video clips from the late 90's, the countless magazine covers and interviews, the news on the television that Adam Bryn had died, the shocking video of him saying with a crying voice that his best friend was dead, the disappointing critics on how his new band's album flopped and the late nights in which me and Rach would put the kids to bed earlier to watch his successful TV show. Anyone would recognize that kind, silly face.
His presence is strong in the room, swallowing up all the extra space. Sometimes you can see that this is his life, this is what he chose to be.
He closes the door behind his back as if he's trying to hide away from something.
"Hi!" He calls casually when he spots me, as if I was an old friend, still breathing hard from racing into my room. He's tall, but still shorter than me when I stand, he has a gorgeous, angelic smile, and his spiky hair was pointed towards the heavens. "You're Tom DeLonge, right?" He asks and walks closer to me.
"Is it that too obvious?" I ask and he nods, "Aw shit, I guess my disguise has failed me once again."
He laughs this awkward, goofy, beautiful laugh I wish I could listen to all day. "I'm Mark Hoppus," He says and gives me his hand to shake, which I take.
"Oh everybody around here knows that," I say, smiling. "So, what brings you to your guest's dressing room? Is something wrong?"
"No, everything's fine, but, well, you probably haven't heard of this, but I have this thing where I take at least some five minutes or so to talk to my guests before the show, so the conversation doesn't get awkward when we're on air, y'know?"
"Oh, okay," I shrug, and motion him to the couch. "You wanna sit?"
"Absolutely," He smiles, and takes a seat on the orange couch next to me.
"So, how is it like to be an astronaut?"
"That question seems like something you should ask on the show," I say.
"I know, but I just met you, and to be honest, I really don't know what else to talk about," He chuckles, blushing slightly.
We fall into a rather uncomfortable silence for a couple of seconds, and then, thinking of a different idea, I speak up. "Hey, what if I interview you?"
"Like, if you were the host?" He asks, and I nod, my heart skipping a beat when he gives his sideways grin. "Yeah, that sounds pretty cool."
"What is it like to be host in a live talk show?" I ask the most obvious question in the world, but what the hell, I'm making a friend here.
"It's fun! It's really fun actually, I never thought that after so much time in the music industry I could make a good TV host, especially with my fucking colorful dialogue." He laughs.
"Did you ever think you'd be here before your band broke up?" I ask, starting to like what we were doing.
"Not exactly, but sure, when I was young I had this fantasy that I would be starring movies or shitty soaps like the ones in which the guy survives his own cremation, you know? Everyone had that phase when they were young, the fame phase. Did you have yours?"
I shouldn't have been surprised at how great Mark's interview skills were, he must've got it in the 90's, when he was famous for the first time and the interviews poured in. That also must be why his talk show is going so great. That's something I'll never get.
"Hmmm, yeah, I think," I say with a smile in my voice, "I wanted to be a weatherman!"
"Really?" Mark laughs. "That must've been interesting; did you act it on your backyard or something?"
"Well, I wanted to be a weatherman as much as I wanted to be a rockstar or an astronaut or a skater, in the end I went for the hardest one to achieve." I chuckle.
"Wow, now I have so many questions," Mark grins. "You wanted to be a rockstar?"
"Yes, I did," I say casually. "I even learned to play guitar, but it went nowhere. But we're not here to talk about my shitty music skills, we're talking about you! What did you want to be when you were a kid?"
"Well, I don't really remember," He says after pausing to think. "I knew that I wanted to do music the moment I touched my first bass, that's all."
"How was your first bass?" Wow, I am such a bad interviewer.
"It was pink; I remember I wasted a lot of money on it!"
"If you loved it, then I bet is was worth it."
We keep talking, we chat about our lives, we both compare the times we visited the white house – he visited two times though, one in the 90's and another time last year -. We only stop when someone wearing the show's shirt bursts into the room "Mark? What are you doing here?" That's when I see that Alinne was right behind the guy, cigarette balancing between her fingers already.
"I was..." Mark tries to explain, but the guy shakes his head.
"No, no, no, you're up on five, come on come on!"
The guy drags Mark out of the room so fast, he didn't even look back to say goodbye, but I knew I would see him shortly enough. Alinne walks into the room and steps on her cigarette. "Why didn't you tell me he was here?"
"I didn't even know they were looking for him, we started talking and just... I don't know, we lost track of time."
"I'm not mad at you, nothing went wrong," She sighs and sits by my side. "Do you want to call Rach's?"
I nod and she pulls her Blackberry from her pocket. I didn't have one, because I didn't need one; I'll be in space six months from now, that'll be enough technology for just one person.
"Hey Noah" I say as my son answers the phone. "How's movie night with your mom going?"
"Great!" I wince as he replies loudly, his mouth way too close to the receiver. "We're watching Star Wars now, Luke and Darth just had their lightsaber fight! It's AWESOME!"
"Cool, are you guys going to watch the show? It starts in a few minutes."
"Let me talk to him!" Jean's shrill shrieks can be heard clearly through the phone, and Noah passes the phone to her, groaning. "Hi Daddy!"
"Hi sweetie, are you guys going to watch the show?"
"Yes, we are! Mom is changing channels right now! Ohhh, I get to see you but you won't be able to see me! How weird is that?" She chirps happily. She loves seeing me on television.
"It is weird, isn't it?" I laugh, loving the sound her angelic little voice. "I have to go now, but I love you guys!"
"Love you, Daddy," They both call in unison, and I hear the dial tone on the other end as they hang up.
Alinne starts to look funny at me and I frown "What is it? Do I have something in my teeth?" I lick my teeth to see if I do.
"Nothing" She shakes her head. "You just... You look like you love your children more than anything."
"Well, how could I not? They're my kids, y'know?" I say, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Actually, when you spend so much time away, there's always that something that you miss, that you crave to get back. I've talked to a few other people who have been to space missions and they all say they either miss their girlfriends, their pets, their family, or their parents... They all miss something when they're away, and since the divorce, my kids are the ones I miss. Not that I don't miss Rachel, I do, but I really did miss her when we were still together, after we separated I ended up stopping to love her, and that's why I'm more focused at my kids, I guess.
I don't like to say this, to even think it actually, but whenever I think about our break-up, I blame her. I think that she felt like I was never around, even if I spent every second of my free time with my family. I could still love her, but I have to admit that things would not be the same anymore.
The same man from before peaks his head into the room a few minutes later, talking in a stern voice. "In five, Mr. DeLonge."
I get up, brushing lint off of my outfit, and look at Alinne. "Do I look okay?"
"The most handsome man I have ever seen, only losing to Brad Pitt. Let's go!"
She rushes me to go to the side of the stage, I can see Mark making introductions and making a few scripted jokes to the camera.
"Pope Benedict has said infertile couples should not attempt artificial procreation because it is a 'form of arrogance'. Then he put on a massive gold hat." Mark snaps off his lines, making everyone laugh. He's always funny in his show, that's why Rach and I liked it so much.
"So, we have a great show for tonight! We have model Elizabeth Shawn, who's going to Portugal next month to film her documentary about model's life. We also have politician David Kraus talking about Obama's influences into other parts of the world and last, but most definitely not least, we have astronaut Tom DeLonge who is going to tell us what he can about his amazing mission six months from now. We'll be right back!"
The show quickly cuts to commercials, and everybody's shoulders relax, now off the air, and catch a breath.
But less than an eye blink later, I can hear someone screaming, "We'll be back in five, four..." Mark takes himself to the chairs in one of the corners of the stage "...Two," and points to Mark as a signal for "one."
"We're back!" Mark shouts and laughs a bit; he's with his cards in his hands, standing up before the leather couch. The crowd cheers and he starts speaking again. "Recently, the United States government has been investing a lot into space missions and well, space in general," The crowd laughs, of course. I bet that if I was the one to say that, nobody would laugh, but Mark has enough charisma to make something completely bland and boring sound like the best joke in the world.
"So today we have a super special guest, I hope you guys have heard of him because he's going into history books your kids will read. Please welcome astronaut, Tom DeLonge!"
The crowd starts cheering and I remind the orders Alinne gave me earlier, to smile and wave, than shake hands with Mark and sit on the couch, turning my attention to him who would be in the armchair beside me. Simple enough.
We sit and I look at him, his crystal eyes scanning through the cards being flipped through his hands.
"So, Tom," He starts "I can't even imagine what it is like to be an astronaut, could you let us know a little bit of the day in a life of Tom Delonge is like?" He asks, raising an eyebrow, which I laugh to, remembering of our chat earlier. "Is it stressful, boring, fun or what?"
"Well, I have fun, I certainly love my job, but there are some really boring, stressful things too. I mean, I have fun, of course, but it's not on most days, only once in a while."
"But would you say your work is gratifying?"
"Yeah, I think I would, for me, I mean. It's my life, I would never leave it behind for some other childhood dream I would have thought of when I was 5. Being an astronaut is better than any dream, really, because it's real, and that's something only a few people can say."
"It says here that you were 'Teacher For A Day' in the public elementary schools around LA, how was that?"
I grin, remembering the children at the schools. "It was great! The kids are awesome; it's amazing how they all have so many questions and how they all are so inspired."
Mark and I keep talking more about the mission and my life, and then he turns to the camera and says they'll be right back. Mark gives me his hand to shake. "It was nice to meet you, Tom," He says, quite sincerely. "Hope we get to see each other sometime soon.
"Don't worry, I won't leave till the show is over," I joke, and he gives me his crooked smile.
"I sure hope not," He says before going to talk with the audience.