Tom DeLonge Imagines

Distraction

(A/N: Got a request to do a spicy 2006 Tom imagine from @viseguard here on Wattpad. Enjoy!)

(CONTENT WARNING: SMUT/ALCOHOL/PAINKILLER ABUSE MENTION)

This place is dead

It echoes through town

There isn't one voice

I haven't heard a sound

2006 had proven to be a very hard year for Tom DeLonge. Between losing his band mates, friends, the guaranteed money-making cash cow that was blink-182 the year prior and most of his sanity, he was on a complete downward spiral. His lower back - though it had been operated on in 2002 - ached. His soul was desperate for an answer to the pleas he had sent out into the Universe since his band fell apart, begging it for some kind of sign of life or hope that he was doing the right thing. Some kind of reason to be worthy of the past success he had found alongside two other extremely talented musicians. Painkillers were his escape and alcohol was his vice to get by on days where the Vicodin just wasn't enough. The constant war inside of his head was loud as the soldiers battled amongst themselves, but the Vicodin helped silence their quarrels if only for a few hours at a time.

Our relationship over the past year since blink-182 went on an indefinite hiatus was no stranger to long, hard nights of screaming, disagreements, and crying because Tom had been spiraling so hard into the current depressive state he was stuck in. The threat of breaking up had been looming over us like a dark cloud for weeks - months, even - because Tom could not reel himself in. He stayed up until the very early hours of the morning in the studio panicking about what the fuck he was doing with his life. He was lost and had no idea which direction he was heading, and it was spilling over into our relationship. Coupled with the Vicodin addiction and the alcoholism, I was becoming really tired of it and fast.

As much as our relationship had suffered, I tried to give him some grace because he was really going through it. The media had been attacking him because of his grandiose and painkiller-fueled statements to editorial writers, and every single article that came out sent Tom into a near panic attack and into a spiral about being worthless, undeserving, and useless. I tried to be there when I could be for him, but our schedules were so crazy that I rarely saw him unless the stars aligned. When I did, he would be so strung out that sometimes he wouldn't make sense, and there was nothing I could say to him in order to help ease the endless chatter inside of his head or bring him back down to Earth.

Angels and Airwaves, the new band that Tom formed with his friend from Box Car Racer - David Kennedy - was set to play its first ever show in April of 2006 at the Glass House Concert Hall in Pomona, California. Tom had been stressing about the show practically since they booked it months prior, and he had been involved with everything from the lights on stage to what colors they were during which songs. Along with David Kennedy, Tom recruited Atom Willard for the drums and bassist Ryan Sinn. Together the four of them promised to make music that would inspire people, take fans on an emotional journey, and comfort them in times of crisis. While the project was definitely ambitious, it was Tom that needed to hear the message of his own music the most of all, though whether or not he realized that remained to be seen. WIth soaring sound driven by space-rock guitars and big, roomy drums, Angels and Airwaves was inspirational especially in the lyrics that Tom penned. All ten songs on their new record titled We Don't Need to Whisper were all about finding hope and love when all seemed lost, and Tom was excited to show the world his art by performing the songs live.

Before the show, Tom had been blowing up my cell phone with calls and the occasional text message, but I was busy at my job working overtime and couldn't make it to the phone in time. We had agreed that I would be at his house when he got home from the show that night, as that was the best way for me to support him since work wouldn't let me off early. While we were both super bummed about it, and I knew how much he could have used my support at the venue, being employed was also important.