101 Thomas Brodie Sangster Imagines

Date To Homecoming

Date To Homecoming

I knew no one ask me... Why would anyone want to?

I lay on my bed, tears threatening to fall from my eyes. A lump growing in my throat making it hard for me to speak as my mom asks what's wrong. I grab the ball of hair that had fallen out just last night. My fingers run through the golden locks that were once on my head. The tears fall for real now and I can't help from weeping. My mom kneels down next to my bed, cradling my face. She whispers things to make me feel better, but at this point nothing will. I lift my head off my pillow and look my mom in the eye.

"This is for real. It's really happening." I state as if she doesn't know. She just nods, holding both of my hands in her's. Tears run down both our faces.

"But this isn't the end." I reassure myself, more than my mother.

I sitting with my legs crossed, on my bed, holding my hair. Stroking it. Then I feel anger start to fill my body as my fingers continue to run through my hair. I grit my teeth, holding in a scream. I squish the hair inside my fist so hard that my nails dig into my palm.

"I hate you." I repeat over and over again, not even knowing who I'm telling this to.

I walk down the halls of my school. Keeping my head down and my hood up, covering my thinning hair. No one knows what's happening inside of me. I can feel tears threaten to fall from my eyes. I can feel my feet speeding up. Today I'm gonna finally tell him. He needs to know how I've been feeling.

I feel like everyone's staring at me as I make my way to his locker. My heartbeat quickens until I round the corner and see his face. The tears instantly stream down my face and I'm so happy he's there with his arms around me.

"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" my best friend, Thomas, asks with concern in his voice.

"I need to tell you something." I whimper, wiping away my tears. "I'm losing my hair." I breath out, like I've just told my deepest, darkest secret. Thomas' eyes grow soft and fill with tears.

"I promise that you will always look beautiful even without hair." Thomas tells me, like I haven't tried to convince myself this a hundred times before, but even from him, I don't believe it.

"I don't think I'm gonna go." I tell Thomas. He looks at me, titling his head a little to the side. I can see the pain and confusion in his eyes.

"Go where?" he asks.

"Homecoming. I don't want to go. By then I won't have any hair. Anyway, who'd wanna go to homecoming with a bald girl." I say, trying to act like I don't care.

"(Y/N)?" Thomas begins, but I cut him off.

"I'm not going. Okay?" I tell him, raising my voice. He just nods softly.

I stare at the dress that was hung up on the door of my closet. I had gotten it a couple months ago. I remember thinking I would be fine by now. I'd be healthy and happy. I'd be going to my last homecoming. I take a sharp breath in and weakly exhale.

I hear a knock on the door of my bedroom door. I prop myself up on my elbow.

"Come in." I say, quietly. I see the door slowly swing open, revealing Thomas in a nice suit, a smile plastered on his face.

"Hey." I say, glumly. He tilts his head, a little confused. His smile instantly turning into his signature frown. Thomas walks over to my bed and lays beside me.

"Well, this isn't good. You aren't ready?" Thomas says. I give him a confused look, as he rolls off the bed and walks over to my closet door, taking my dress off the door and bringing it to me. "Here, put this on." Thomas insists, sticking the dress out to me.

"I told you I didn't want to go." I tell him, forcing my tears back. Thomas sets the dress on the end of the bed then lays back down beside me. He rests his hand on my cheek and rubs his thumb over my skin.

"I want to take you to homecoming because to me, you'll always be the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." Thomas tells me.

"But, Thomas, all my hair has fallen out." I say quietly. He looks up to my bald head, surprise in his eyes.

"Wow. I guess I never even noticed." Thomas replies, simply. Those words, coming from Thomas, made everything go away. The pain, the embarrassment, the sadness, the fright. At that moment none of it matter as long as he was here with me. A tear somehow escaped my eye. I feel Thomas' finger wipe it away. Immediately a smile replaces whatever sad expression I used to have.

"What time does it start?" I ask. His frown turns back into a smile.

"It starts in two hours. I'll be back to pick you up." Thomas tells me with a new giddiness in his voice. Thomas quickly jumps off my bed and runs out of the room. Minutes later I hear his motorcycle roar past the house. I scramble over to the bathroom to take a shower and do my makeup.

After about an hour and a half, I'm ready to go. I just sit in front of the mirror and look at myself. I glance at the wig that looks almost exact to my old hair. I reach out for and set it on my head. I stare at myself for what feels like forever, until I hear the roar of Thomas' motorcycle drive up to the house. I take a deep breath and remove the wig.

My mom calls for me to come down. I take another deep breath and make my way down the stairs in my tight fitting, one-shoulder, black dress. I see my whole family staring at me as I slowly walk down each step. I make sure to go slowly and take my time, so I don't fall in my heels. My eyes scan for Thomas and I instantly notice he's still wearing his motorcycle helmet.

Once I make it to the last step, Thomas takes my hand and brings me over to the living room. He gestures for me and my whole family to sit down on the sofa, so I do, my family just behind.

"(Y/N), you're the most beautiful girl on this Earth and I hope that even in these past few months you haven't forgotten or even doubted that." Thomas tells me, I can feel a lump growing in my throat as he says these words. Then, slowly, Thomas lifts his helmet off his head, revealing nothing on top of his head. I hear my sister and mom gasp next to me. I quickly stand from the couch and walk over to Thomas. My hand moves to his head where I touch just skin. I look at my best friend in the eyes. Tear welling up in my eyes.

"You did this for me?" I ask him. He nods his bald head. Both my arms wrap around his neck and I pull him into a hug. My tears stain his suit jacket, but I know he won't care.

(A/N): Okay so first of all this wasn't my idea. I got this story from the song "Skin" by Rascal Flatts. I heard it and really loved the song. It inspired me to write this. Second of all, I'm not sure if I should do a part 2 to this. If anyone has any idea so ahead and comment or message me. Thanks again for all the comments, likes, and reads!

Thanks a bunch!!