Sometimes you hated being a famous singer. It wasn't because of your fans, no. You loved them. But it was the unwanted attention and lack of privacy. You couldn't even go shopping without hundreds of pictures being taken of you unknowingly and several rumors being spread. It was exhausting.
You walked into the airport with your sunglasses on, head down, had your hair tied back and you had a large coat on to top it off. You prayed that the paparazzi wouldn't notice you or find out from some third source where you were and where you were headed.
But of course they did. You spot them from across the wide building as you were getting your ticket for the flight.
You turned around immediately and looked for a different way to get to your plane. There had to be someway, right?
Suddenly, because your head was down and you weren't paying attention, you run into someone and you both go tumbling down. You quickly get off the other person to help them up.
"I'm so sorry," you say and glance over your shoulder.
You helped him up and he shook his head.
"No worries."
He was British, you realized. He had sandy blond hair and brown eyes that warmed you. He looked familiar too.
"Have we met before?" You ask and take off your sunglasses to see him better.
"No, but that doesn't mean I don't know who you are," he laughs. He holds out his hand.
"I'm Thomas Brodie Sangster."
You take it and continue to try and figure out where you'd seen him before. You watch as he glances past you at the incoming crowd of photographers and journalists. You turn back to him and look into his eyes with an apologetic look.
"I have to go," you both say at the same time.
"Wait, are you hiding from them too?" You ask.
He nods. You felt your heart speed up. He was famous too and you didn't even know it?
He grips your hand and starts pulling you with him.
"Come with me, I know how to avoid them pretty well."
He tugs you to a farther part of the airport and you both watch carefully for the paparazzi. You found it kinda fun actually, like a big game of hide and seek.
You and Thomas hid in multiple places. The luggage return, the little shops. You were enjoying it probably too much but you had an hour to kill anyways.
Finally, it was time for your flight and you started to part ways with Thomas.
"Thanks for helping me hide from the Paparazzi," you chuckle.
"Yeah of course. I hope you have a good flight," he smiles and then starts walking towards where they were boarding.
You walk to your flight and get to your assigned seat. Hopefully whoever sat next to you wouldn't recognize you. But if they did, that was alright too. You did love talking to your fans as long as they weren't creepy.
When someone sits next to you, you almost don't want to look over. That is, until they speak to you.
"You know I've had my share of stalkers, but this is a whole new bloody level."
You look up and stare for a minute before you start laughing.
"Are you sure you're not the one stalking me?" you ask Thomas.
He just laughs and you know it's going to be a good flight.
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