Selfish Machines

He had to be fucking kidding me.

I swear, only Tom Sykes would tell you he loved you in the back of a cop car after being arrested because of his own stupidity. The cops drove us down to the station where we were promptly searched and then placed in holding cells while they figured out what they could do with us. After about a half hour we were told we were allowed our one phone call and I racked my brain as I tried to think about who was the most responsible person to call to come get us.

"'lo?"

"Can you come pick us up?"

"Gemma?"

"Yes," I sighed.

"Where are you?"

"Oh you know...just...jail..." I trailed off, biting on my bottom lip and glancing over at Tom who was sitting in the holding cell a few feet behind me. His hands were clasped in front of him with his elbows on his knees, his head hanging low. I wanted to feel bad for him because that's just the way I was, but then I remembered where we were and what he had said in the car and I got angry all over again.

"Yer fuckin' jokin', right?"

"Tom! Just come pick us up okay?"

"I don't have a fuckin' car! 'ow can ya just tell me yer in jail and not explain anyfhing?" He yelled.

I sighed again, "I followed Tom to the woods where he decided to smoke a blunt, we were yelling at each other and i guess a cop heard and came back to see what was going on and arrested us both, ok? I can't sit here and talk to you forever so will you please just get a fucking cab or something and just come get us?"

"Christ Gem, you're the last person I'd ever think to get arrested," he laughed lightly.

"It's not fucking funny, Tom. I called you because I thought you wouldn't be a dick about this."

"No, ofher Tom's a dick. I'm the nice one, remember?"

"Shut up and just come get us okay? Lemme get the address from someone..."

After successfully giving Tom the address to the jail we were being held at I was brought back to the cell with Tom. He lifted his head up and looked at me and I sat on the bench opposite to him, my arms crossed over my chest.

"So are ya jus' gonna keep glarin' at me or are ya gonna say somefhin'?" He asked finally.

"I don't really have anything to say to you."

He looked rather shocked by my words and maybe even a little upset. I mean, I guess I could understand why but I still couldn't change my attitude about the whole situation. I was just really sick of the whole double standard between us. Tom was allowed to fuck anything he wanted but as soon as he so much as thought I was fucking someone else, he immediately freaked out and made me feel horrible. It just wasn't fucking fair. And now he had thrown 'I love you' into the mix making everything about a thousand times more complicated than it ever had to be.

"Yer kiddin', right?" He asked, virtually speechless. "I told you I fuckin' loved ya and you don't 'ave a fhing to say?"

"Just because you said it doesn't mean you mean it," I countered.

Now he looked angry.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it, Gemma," he snapped. "I can't believe you would even accuse me of lyin' to ya."

"Stop making me look like the bad guy!"

"I guess it took me see ya wiff me best mate to realize how much I cared about ya," he shrugged.

"I didn't fucking sleep with Matt!" I screamed.

"Keep it down in there!" A cop yelled.

I rubbed my face and looked at Tom who's expression mirrored my own, I'm sure. The frustration was brimming and I was counting down the minutes until I could crawl into my bunk and not have to look at him for a really long time. We only had a few days of tour left before we got to go home and then I could lock myself in the big old house and not have to deal with him for a very long time. This is exactly why Tom and I never worked out; we could hardly stand to be in the same place as each other for more than two weeks without wanting to kill each other.

Tom showed up a little while later to bail us out and after a quick stop at the bank so we could both repay him we were back at the venue where questions were being thrown at us from every which way. Eventually I got so mad I just snapped and told the whole story to everyone, explaining that if I was asked anymore questions I wouldn't hesitate to kick them all in the nuts. They were quite after that because they knew I wasn't the type of girl to make a hollow threat like that.

Things went smoothly after that. I stayed away from Tom and began to help Architects set up for their set. They played amazingly well and for once, things were going exactly how I wanted them to go. I was disassembling the stage when Tom walked up to me and began to help with Dan's drum set.

"What the fuc-"

"Don't speak," Tom interrupted me quickly. "Jus', please give me a chance to explain myself okay? Meet me in my bunk after the show."

"In your bunk? You better not think I'm having sex with you."

"I jus' want make today up to you," he sighed.

"With your dick?"

"I'm not opposed to the idea," he grinned. I rolled my eyes as we carried the bass drum off stage and towards the bus. I ran my fingers through my hair as he finished loading everything away and sighed. My internal debate was fierce, as I decided whether or not Tom deserved the chance to explain himself. I knew he expected one, and the only person I had to blame for that was myself. I had given him so many chances before, he had no reason to think otherwise. After he decided to lie about taking my virginity, I probably should have stopped with the second chances. But I guess I couldn't. I wanted to believe Tom was the right person for me. And I wanted to believe I was making the right decision to keep giving him another chance. I guess somewhere inside of me, I did believe those things. But the other more rational side of me knew I was being stupid and knew Tom was a douche bag.

Guess what side I decided to listen to?

It was nearly midnight and Tom still wasn't at his bunk. I had taken to watching movies on his laptop and hoping Bring Me the Horizon's set had just run long. At 12:30 I was thinking about leaving. And by 1 I was ready to go back to Architects bus when I heard the door open. I pushed myself out of the bunk and was adjusting my jeans when Tom stumbled to the bunks with a pretty blonde girl attached to his mouth.

"Oh," I said. He immediately moved away from her mouth as her lips found his neck.

"Gemma, I-" he began to say, but I cut him off quickly.

"I was just getting something from Lee," I forced a smile onto my lips. "I'm going back to my bus now, see you at the next venue."

I pushed passed him and the girl and ignored his calls for me to return. He was drunk. And he was ready to fuck that girl. And I wasn't about to stop him. He was a big boy and was allowed to make as many horrible decisions as he wanted. I couldn't change his mind.

"Aren't you supposed to me talkin' to Tom?" Bobby asked when I climbed back onto the bus. "We all half expected ya to ride wiff them to the next venue."

"Tom's busy," I replied.

"Whaddya mean?" He quirked an eyebrow. I gave him a look, letting him know he knew exactly what I was talking about. "Yer jokin'," he said.

"Nope," I shrugged, making my way to my bunk. "She was actually pretty cute, too."

"Gemma-"

"It's fine!" I said quickly, climbing into my bunk and immediately shutting the curtain behind me.

I let out a huge breath of air when I was finally settled. I actually wanted to cry. But I couldn't. I was simply too used to this kind of rejection to actually produce tears. And that paired with my strange ability to emotionally shut down in the most trying of times left my eyes dry.

So instead I just sat there and thought about how fucked up everything was and about how I wasn't sure how he could possibly tell me he loved me and then go and do something like this to me.

"Tell all the English boys you meet, 'bout the American boy back in the States, the American boy you used to date, who would do anything you say-"

"Would ya keep it down? I'm tryin' to sleep," Tom whined from the bed.

"Tom, it's two in the afternoon," I laughed.

"Yeah, well, I'm hung over," he replied, turning over and pulling a pillow over his head. I jumped on top of the mattress, my legs on either side of him and began to jump up and down.

"It's 8:45. The weather is getting better by the hour, I hope it rains there all the time. And if you ever said you miss me then don't say you never lied. I'm without you!" I sang on the top of my lungs, jumping in time with the song. Tom then grabbed my ankles and pulled me down on top of him, his hand flying to my mouth.

"I swear if ya don't pipe down I'll kill ya," he warned, trying to be intimidating, but failing miserably. Tom was probably the least intimidating person I knew.

"This is my house you know," I smiled when he removed his hand from my mouth.

"And?"

"You don't have to be here."

"We bofh know ya 'ate bein' in the big old 'ouse alone almost more than ya 'ate sleepin' wifhout yer blankie," he teased me.

"I can invite someone else over," I said, my nose in the air. "Someone who will actually like my singing."

"Love, 's not the singin', 's the fact that I feel like 'aving a sick right on this bed and me 'ead is poundin' and yer jumpin' around like everyfhin's all fine and dandy."

"So you like my singing?" I perked up, disregarding the second half of the sentence.
He sighed, "If ya must know, yes."

I squealed and launched at him, wrapping my arms and legs around him tightly before settling on his stomach, completely straddling him. "Really?" I asked hopefully.

He laughed lightly, "'s cute," he shrugged. "And oddly comforting."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"Means I'm home," he smiled.

I grinned, leaning down to kiss him softly. "It's nice to be home at the same time for once," I agreed. "It's not the same without you here," I admitted.

"'s nice to just lay here wiff you."

I hid my blush by falling down to his side and snuggling my face into his neck. He laughed
lightly and turned over to kiss me again.

"I wouldn't 'ave it any ofher way," he whispered.