Spider-Man Unscripted

Even Spider-Man Needs Coffee

"But I'm nothing without this suit."

"If you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it."

"Cut!"

Tom Holland bit back a sigh. This was the fifth time that they'd tried to shoot this scene today, and he thought they had it this time.

Robert shot him a small look of sympathy, a kind of been there done that look, to which he returned with a small smile.

"Let's take a break," one of the AD's shouts echoed across the green-screened room.

There was a collective agreement, and Tom hopped down from the green block him and Robert were standing on to shoot the scene, not waiting for someone to help him down.

He bypassed different cameras and recording carts, ignoring the curious glances people were shooting him as he made his way to the back of the studio. No one pressed the matter though, as they were used to him taking his lunch breaks in different rooms and places everyday.

He didn't like to sit idly in the same spot day after day. Monotony just wasn't for him.

He snagged an apple off of one of the food table—avoiding the croissants—if Tom got caught with another one of those his fans would have a field day.

And it had been a long day to say the least. Not that he wasn't having the time of his life—he was—things just got frustrating from time to time. Especially when trying to shoot one of the most important scenes in the entire film. It had to be perfect.

And he wasn't feeling anywhere near perfect today.

The suit was tight. Itchy. Hot. He wasn't supposed to eat in it but he didn't have the energy right now to ask anyone to help him take it off.

The teen leaned his head back against the wall. He found himself in an unnamed room, but it was empty and smelt like febreeze. An oddly comforting combination.

He needed a break.

But then again he didn't want one.

Taking another bite of the apple that seemed to hold all the solutions to his problems, the door handle suddenly rattled, snatching his attention. Tom wanted to groan.

Except Harrison walked in, so it turned into a grin. The other boy didn't say anything, just came over and sat down, leaning his head back like Tom. They sat in silence. Just the presence of one another helping to eliminate the stress from the day.

It helped Tom feel grounded, being with his best friend.

It helped him feel at home.

"You look like shit."

He snorted.

Harrison smiled.

More silence, more chewing that damn apple.

"You want to get out of here?"

He almost choked. "What?"

"Let's take a break. Go somewhere. We've been shooting fifteen hour days for two weeks now."

"Tell me about it," he mumbled quietly. He wasn't upset. Just tired.

There was a difference.