𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙴 | 𝑡. ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑

PROLOGUE

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"Another please." You gestured towards your empty glass which had previously contained a Bloody Mary.

The young bartender, likely in her late teens to early twenties like you, gave a slight nod and before you knew it, you had yourself another glass to help drown your sorrows.

Soon you had enough liquid courage to pull out your cellphone and pull up his contact.

Your thumb rested on the name Tom, weighing whether or not to text the man who just three days ago had broken your heart and stomped on the pieces.

You took another sip of your drink and started composing the text:

"Thomas,

As I'm typing this, my courage is being fueled by the vodka-induced strength of a full glass of a Bloody Mary and three that came before it. I know you have clearly moved on, as hard as it may be for me to comprehend, but I need to get the feelings I've been holding in for the last three days, off of my chest. I loved you Thomas, I really did. You were annoying and also hilarious, the world's biggest asshole, often making me want to scream my lungs out. You could ruin my day but also save it at the last minute. You drove me crazy and were totally selfish and sometimes I hated your guts, and yet you were everything I wanted and more..."

"Pull yourself together (Y/N)," you thought, sensing your emotions getting the best of you. You wiped a few tears off of your cheeks and turned your attention back to the text:

"I was willing to follow you around the world like a lost puppy, as you did press for Civil War even if it meant that I had to turn down the few modelling shoots I could even get. Despite always wanting to be a professional model, it was never a question because you were the most important person in my life, and I thought I was the same to you, but I guess I was wrong. You let your insecurities and jealousy tear us apart..."

Your mood swiftly changed and sadness suddenly became anger as you thought about everything you had put into your relationship with Tom over the year you were together and the three years you'd known him, and how he still didn't trust you.

"Harry didn't ruin our relationship, nor did I. It was you and your decision to run into another girl's arms the second you didn't get what you wanted for the first time in your life. There's no need to keep going on about all of this, what's done is done. I just want you to know that I will always love you but I will never forgive you..."

"Miss, would you like another?" the bartender asked. You shifted your focus from the phone to the girl who looked at you worriedly as if she was asking out of necessity but was secretly hoping you would not ask for a fifth drink.

Wisely, you declined. You wanted to finish your text with the ounce of sobriety you had left.

"The other night at your apartment, after all had been said and done, you had the audacity to tell me you loved me. In the heat of the moment I snapped at you doubting it, but now that I've had time to think, you might have been telling the truth for once. You know what they say, 'the person who loves you the most is the one who can hurt you the worst'. You were that one person to me Thomas..."

Recalling the painful memories from only a few days earlier caused you to tear up again despite fighting so hard to keep those emotions bottled up. You hated Tom for breaking your heart, but what you hated even more was that you were still madly in love with him.

"Finally, as if I haven't rambled on long enough, I ask that you don't make any effort to contact me, although I doubt you have any desire to now that you are a free man. Please make up with Harry, don't blame him for your mistakes. I have to go as I have a flight to catch, I've finally decided to put myself first. Goodbye Thomas, I love you now, forever, always.

- Sincerely, (Y/N)"

"Toughen up buttercup," you said to yourself as you attempted to pull yourself together and get up from the bar.

You tried blinking away the tears, not wanting to ruin your mascara. You couldn't control your emotions and felt sick to your stomach, but at least the hard part was done, right?

The girl who was bartending, smiled weakly at you, your depression showing a mile away. You left her a tip and made your way through the crowds of people scrambling to get to their gates.

"Flight 6864 to Paris is now boarding," you heard announced over the speaker. You made you way to your gate, and looked down at your boarding pass.

Now comfortably seated all the way in the back of economy, you settled in and took out your headphones. You decided to take out your cell phone to send the message you had spent so much time writing, but you noticed that you had a bunch of unread messages that you had chosen to avoid earlier, not wanting your decision to leave to be swayed by whatever those messages contained.

Some of the texts were from your best friend Ginnie wishing you luck and telling you to visit often, not likely. She knew everything that had gone down with Tom and understood your decision, even if she was going to miss you.

Two were from your parents also wishing you luck, your mother encouraging you to find a rich French man to marry, typical. The other unread messages, however, were from your other best friend, Harry. Yes, that would be Harry Holland, your ex-boyfriend's younger brother.

Harry: "Are you still ignoring me?"

Harry: "(Y/N) it's been 3 days."

Harry: "I know you're upset about Tom, but you know you can talk to me."

Harry: "Please?"

Harry: "Ginnie just told me you're leaving, is it true?"

Harry: "You really left without saying goodbye?"

Tears rained down your cheeks as you read Harry's messages. You hadn't spoken to him since you made the decision to leave, you didn't want to say goodbye to him.

You and Harry had been best friends since he saw you on the streets of London one day a few years back and insisted on taking pictures of you. At first you thought he was some creep but eventually, with his love of photography and your dreams of becoming a model, you were a perfect pair.

Even after you met Tom and the two of you became an item, Harry remained your best guy friend, something Tom wasn't okay with and wasn't able to get over.

You went back into your texts with Tom and looked at the extremely long message that was saved as a draft, you took a deep breath and hit send, feeling a weight lifted off of your shoulders.

You blocked his number soon after, not wanting to see his reply, if he even decided to send one. You shut your phone off, not wanting to get more emotional than you already were, plugged your headphones in, and closed your eyes just as the plane began to take off.

"Goodbye Thomas, goodbye Harry, goodbye London, hello Paris," you whispered to yourself, the person to your right probably thinking you were some sort of lunatic.

You hoped that with the distance and work would serve as a distraction; that you could forget about him and stop loving him. If only.

THE END

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