3: The Chorus of a Fed-Up Mind

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Before I Start, I would just like to say: Listening to Cheshire Cat makes me so emo and this chapter is kinda based on Someday, but not really.

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Tom awoke for the second time that morning. Mark's arm was secured around his waist again.

The headache Tom had before was worse now. He groaned and rubbed at his face, attempting to wake himself up fully. Mark was still snoozing, spooned against Tom from behind.

Tom rolled over to face Mark, grabbing the older man's wrist and adjusting it around his waist when it slid due to the motion.

Mark, still asleep, huffed and pressed forward, pressing his nose against Tom's chest, hiding in the folds of Tom's black shirt.

"You're a different person behind closed doors." Tom said quietly, looking down at Mark. "I don't know why...you're being kinda mean to me now. I mean, I get you're pissed that I nearly ruined the band again and you're happy with my re--Matt. And...Mark," Tom's voice cracked as he spoke. "Do you know how hard it is pretending it's all good and everything's okay? I have to pretend like Matt's not replacing me in my own band and I have to pretend to be professional about it, and I have to pretend that there's nothing going on between us, and it hurts. And it's all for the fans and they're so unhappy, and--and...and I miss those days when we were just blink, a couple've guys who liked to have a good time and never wanted to grow up, but...but then we grew up. And although it's nice to have a big house and a big bed and to be known for doing what we love—which is exactly what we always wanted—sometimes I still miss the old days. Not old as in before the break up. Old as in, we would sleep squashed together in the back of that stupid rusty van with a mountain of blankets because the heater and AC never worked. Or when we had to sheepishly ask fans if we could sleep on their livingroom floor. Or when we got our first bus and were so excited that we didn't sleep for the first night. Instead we laid directly across from each other and made stupid faces and giggled at each other until morning time. All that shit. I...miss it."

"Miss you," Mark mumbled against Tom's chest.

"What?" Tom pulled away from Mark to find that the man was still sleeping. He was talking in his sleep. A smile formed on Tom's lips. He studied dreams and all this shit. He knew people were responsive when they sleep talked.

"Mark? Did you say you missed me?" He asked. He felt guilty for intruding on Mark's mind while he slept, but he couldn't help it.

"Mmmhmm," Mark mumbled quietly.

"Mark?"

"Ye...uhhhh," Mark moaned.

"Do you love me still?"

"Love you, Tommie," Mark sighed out.

Mark was quiet for a moment. Then he rolled over, mumbling. "Come...follow...follow me Tom...this time...stay." He took a breath. "Stay right...here."

After that, Mark was silent.

Tom smiled, sitting up. Even though it was sleep talking, Mark had said that he loves himself.

But his head was starting to hurt worse.

With a groan of pain, he made the quick decision to run down to the corner store at the bottom of the building across the street and buy some aspirin and water to help kill the pain.

He grabbed the hoodie from the night before and slipped his shoes on.

When he returned, Mark was awake, sitting up in bed with the sheets wrapped around him. He was rubbing at his eyes.

"I thought you'd gone."

"I just went to grab some aspirin. You look like you need some."

"I do," Mark said, moving his hand from his eyes. "I have the worse headache."

Tom tossed the bottle of pills at Mark, having already taken some of his own.

"Can we talk?" Tom asked, sitting on the bed. "About us?"

"I...I guess."

"I just...I'm really sorry, Mark. I'm sorry for being a dick, I'm sorry for leaving you and Travis in the dust..." Tom's eyes grew glossy with the threat of tears. "I'm sorry for nearly tearing blink apart again. Im sorry for everything and I don't want things to be like this. I...I want my life back."

Without a word, Mark threw his arms around Tom and pulled him in to a deep hug. "I never listen to your reasoning, Tom," Mark admitted. "I was always quick to shut you down...I was scared of what would happen if we broke up again...I was being selfish and I'm sorry."

Tom rubbed at his eyes, thankful that no tears actually fell.

"Tom, I need you to understand one thing, though."

"What's that?" Tom pulled away from Mark.

"Matt. He's...he's a part of the band. He's not your replacement, but...he's pretty much a permanent fixture now. We can't ruin his life by kicking him out of the band."

"Y...you...are you saying you want me back in?"

"I...guess...but. Blink will have to be a four piece now. Four dudes making songs and telling dick jokes and having a good time. Four old dudes, if I might add."

"Mark...blink's always been three people."

"And that can always change. Always. Anything could happen, Tom. Just be glad that this is an improvement."

"I hardly know him..."

"Get to know him. He's not a bad guy, Tom. I promise."

Tom thought about it.

"Also, if we're gonna let you rejoin the band, we have to call up our lawyers. Actually, it might be best to continue this discussion after we talk to Matt and Travis. And our lawyers."

"I...I agree," Tom nodded. He scooted closer to Mark and layed his head on the man's shoulder.

Mark moved the blanket so he could reach out and take Tom's hand.

"What happened to us, Mark?"

Mark carefully thought out his answer.

"We grew up, Tom," he said, looking up at the ceiling. "We did what we always promised the world that we wouldn't."

Tom sniffled. "We always talked about how we would be fifty years old still messing around and joking about stupid irrelevant things. Now we're...intelligent. I mean, you had your own tv show and you produce stuff and practically manage a few other bands and you're always so eager and ready to help kids out. And i...I wrote a book! You should read it, by the way! It's really good!"

"Stop self advertising," Mark grunted.

"Okay...but, I mean. Once we used to be a bunch of dumb kids who wanted nothing more but to laugh at everything and anything and now we have to take things seriously and...be adults."

"Speaking of being adults," Mark said, reaching for his phone. "We gotta be back on the bus in about an hour. So let's hurry the fuck up and be there on time!" He got off the bed, grabbing his suitcase and opening it up, putting away his things.

"Mark...'We'? What..?"

"Yeah," Mark said, looking up. "Arent...aren't you coming with me?"

"Well, I had plans to go home, but...I guess I'll just go with you...you're right."

"Stay with us for the rest of the tour. Travel with us. It'll be kind of like old times, dude," Mark said, zipping his bag closed. "Us and Travis. And Matt, now. There'll never be a dull moment on that bus!"

"Don't Matt and Travis have their own buses?"

"Everyone always ends up on my bus anyways! It's probably because I have the play station 4 and the biggest TV on my bus." Mark smirked. "So c'mom."

Tom nodded. "Okay." Although he knew it would be unlikely, Tom hoped everything would go without any issues whatsoever.

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