Not waving, but drowning.

The love of friendship

Tom's P.O.V  

I lingered in the hallway. Madison had just shut her door, but I was certain she was standing on just the other side of it, I was certain because I could hear her quiet sobs.  

She had been making her way down the street just as I crossed the road to enter the apartment complex. I had answered the paparazzi's questions briefly before sliding through the gate. They didn't have many questions for me, but I hadn't expected them to notice me at all, for I knew it wasn't my story they were interested in at this moment in time.  

Turning to close the gate, I hesitated. I don't know why, but I had felt compelled to stay and wait for her.  

The fresh yells told me they had spotted her. Their questions were harsh, one shouted that maybe she was just unlovable. I wanted to punch him in the face and force him to apologise to her, but I knew Madison wouldn't have appreciated a fresh scene that would undoubtedly land her on the front page again tomorrow. So I held it together, waiting for her to emerge through the gate...what I was going to do when she appeared I didn't know. She should have reached it by now...  

Peering through the slats in the gate, I spotted her. She was surrounded, looking panicked and a little lost. I thought I spotted a rouge tear fall from her eye before it disappeared with the rain. Had I imagined it? She'd seemed so strong in the furniture store, perhaps even a little cold that first time I'd met her. She was very talented at hiding herself from the prying eyes of outsiders.  

I don't know what made me do it, I had just had an overwhelming urge to help her, so flinging the gate open I had stuck my hand through the mass of reporters and grasped her arm. Pulling her through the gate, I put myself between her and the press, urging her inside. She didn't hesitate.  

When she thanked me, her voice had cracked, and she'd hastily wiped her face, as if I would mind her tears. I wanted her to know I didn't mind, that I would be there for her...as a friend of course.  

But me being me, I'd said the wrong thing. I didn't want her to think I pitied her...but I guess in a way I did. I wouldn't know how to cope if I didn't have the love and support of my family.  

What confused me was why? Why didn't they love her? She is gorgeous, smart, funny...loveable.  

But I was beginning to see that she didn't think of herself that way at all...she believed them. She believed she was unlovable.  

I tried to tell her, but she wouldn't listen. She had left me here to think about just how loveable I thought she was. The answer was very!  

I was shaken from my reverie by a whispered 'you're wrong' coming from just inside her front door, almost as if she could hear my thoughts.  

But I wasn't wrong, I'd make her see sense, I'd make her believe...I'd make her believe in the love of friendship.