You are a hardworking young actor that catches a big break, resulting in you attending your first big awards show. Among the famous faces you see that night: Tom Hiddleston. You only ever intended to admire him from afar, but he has different plans...
Previously in YOJA: How does one begin to go about getting over heartbreak? Friends, coworkers, and work all serve as distraction, up until they're not. Your thoughts accompany you no matter where you go, no matter what the setting. Then there's the fact that you don't WANT to get over the heartbreak. Not really. But what you want, and what life deems ok for you to get... Two very different things.
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The spirit of the season surrounds you, yet the cheer of the season can't quite take hold of you, as it has in years past. There's something missing... and not just those whose company you've come to accept, even enjoy. Despite the company, despite the décor, and smells, and songs... They waited as long as they dared, but Colleen and Richard eventually had to get on the plane back to LA, or risk being stuck away from their respective families over the holidays. They waited until there was less than a week till Christmas, until there was no foundation for their arguments to stay, until there was a single day till you and Matt were due to travel the route that has called to you every time you let your guard down.
After that it was surviving a few hours alone with your thoughts. One night, one sleepless night stood between you and London. Pacing couldn't quiet the noise in your head, and holiday carols were ineffective in drowning out your thoughts. There was no pretending that things were as they had been before the success of Touring Sundays. Try as you might, there's nothing that can convince your mind or your heart the old times have returned.
In the chilly dawn as you cart luggage alongside Matt you try to pretend that the ache you feel has nothing to do with Tom, or your destination, and everything to do with the weather. In your head London is still Tom's, much like your heart.
All the more reason to go, right?
All the more reason to pray that there will be an accidental meeting, to make it so that the last words exchanged between the pair of you weren't accusations. You can't hope for more. Well, you can, but you know you shouldn't.
You finger the edges of your phone throughout the trip, unable to tap out the sequence itching to by typed in and place the call. The timing has to be right – no, perfect – isn't that what you've told yourself every say since those horrible few days at Thanksgiving?
Anyway... What would you say to him if he answered, now?
None of the answers supplied by your brain really suit: – Happy Holidays – which is entirely too cheerful – I'm sorry – which just serves up echoes of the last series of conversations the pair of you shared which would inevitably lead down the same horrible path, and failing everything else, the basic – Hello. A final goodbye would be torturous but it needs to be done. You owe Tom so much more than you gave him. You'd made up your mind to wall him off, shut him out, before he'd had the chance to ask you to leave your mother's house.
You do your best to be a good traveling companion to Matt, to keep a smile on your face and a light laugh ready on your lips. To his credit, Matt doesn't say anything though knowing well and good it's all a ruse. He's spent enough time around you to know when you're being genuine. You're glad of the necessity of winter weather gear, your bundled-up scarf providing a place where you can dip your chin down and hide the frown that slips out, becoming a staple of your features when you give them the freedom to fall where they may.
