Today was the 1st of June. Tom was turning 25. His mother had set up a garden party for him, gathering his closest friends and relatives. This should have been a day he'd feel like he was at the top of the world. Hollywood's golden boy, about to start the press tour for his 3rd Spider-Man movie. This should have been a day he'd spend playing with his dog Tessa in the garden, messing around with his brothers and cousins or bragging about how brilliant was the new movie. This should have been a day spent laughing, living the dream.
But as Tom looked at his reflection in the mirror, all he could think about was when he'd be able to go back to bed. Away from the world. Away from their pitying eyes.
Sam, Harry and Harrison, his twin brothers and his best friend, were in his bedroom with him in his Londonian flat.
-- Just try it on, said Haz for the third time.
Tom glared at the tuxedo on his bed. One of Harrison's friend had it tailored to fit him. His arm. Or the lack of it.
-- It's just a stupid garden party, growled Tom. Why do I have to dress up?
-- It's your birthday mate, sighed his friend. Come on, humour us.
Sam nodded encouragingly so Tom took off his t-shirt. He was just starting to be able to undress on his own. Dressing up was still challenging. Hence why he spend his days in baggy sweatpants and t-shirt.
-- Maybe you should take a shower first, said Harry wrinkling his nose.
-- I'm good.
-- You stink Tom.
-- I don't care.
Which was true. Since he had been released from the hospital, where he was hand washed, he refused any help. This was too humiliating and he didn't felt like he was worth the time and care of a nurse. But showering with one hand was hard, so he didn't. Unless his mother forced him too. Then it was just easier to obey than to fight against her...
-- I'm gonna call Mum, warned Sam as if he heard his thoughts.
-- Fine, fine, Tom grunted. But don't blame me if we are late.
He went to the bathroom and shut the door loudly. He undid the waistband lace of his oversized pants and wriggled out of it. They used to be the right size, but not anymore. He didn't bothered wearing underwear.
He entered the shower and turned the water on with his valid hand. The jet was cold when it hit him and he jerked, slipped and fell back on his butt. His head hit the wall and it flashed a jolt of pain through his body. As if he needed more. The shock brought back the memory of that day.
The day.
It was the first Tuesday of January. Tuesdays were always a big stunt days on the set of Uncharted. Tom had insisted so much to do this one that the stunt Coordinator had gave in and allowed him. It was risky, but Tom loved the thrill. Stupid.
He still remembered the moment he understood it was going to end badly for him. Ths split second were the cables tangled and his trajectory went completely out of the path. He could hear the voices of the stunt crew screaming, feel the tug on the wires, but it was too late. Then, he mostly just remembered pain and the enormous weight on the left side of his body. He had crashed on the decor and the whole thing had collapsed on him...
Right now, his pain level was as high as it had been in the ambulance. The image of his left arm, or what used to be his arm, was imprinted forever in his memory. Just a smashed mess of flesh, bones and blood the paramedic had tried to fold up in a sterile gaze. They probably already knew he was going to lose it...
Tom snapped back to reality when he felt hands grabbing him under the armpit and lifting him up. Sam's face came to focus in front of him and he could see in the mirror that Harry was holding him. He weakly shoved him away.
-- Don't be a dick Tom, scolded his brother. Let us help.
-- I can take a shower by myself, he grumbled.
He hated that they were seeing him like that. And now the pain was radiating through half of his body. He never wanted to take that bloody shower in the first place! He pushed them out of the bathroom but agreed to leave the door open. He showered without putting that much effort in it. He didn't wash his hair, just ran water on them to do the trick. When he finished, it took him ten minutes to dry himself because the towel kept falling off his hand.
He walked back to his room naked, his hair dripping on him and on the floor. He grabbed some loose shorts on his underwear drawer to put them on. Then he reluctantly let Harrison and his brothers dressing him up with the suit.
He only looked at himself in the mirror to slick his wet hair back. They were drenching the collar of his fancy shirt but he didn't give a damn. The left sleeve of the shirt and vest were nicely sewed up a few inches under his stump. His remaining limb was ridiculously small. He could barely reach his ear if he lifted it up. The shirt was cut out after it, but the sleeve of the vest had been sewed in the front pocket. Tom wasn't sure about it but his friend looked happy to see him wearing that thing. He didn't care enough to argue and take it of.
Sam helped him putting his shoes and they all headed to the family house. This would be the first time he saw some of the guest since the accident. The first time they'd saw him. He could already see the look on their face and hear their awkward attempt to say something nice. But amongst all the things Tom had to deal with, this was the least.
The pain.
The pain was the worst. The constant pain in something that wasn't even there anymore! This was what kept him locked up in his flat, cut out from the world. He was always in pain. To a level he wouldn't have thought he could bare at all. Sure the meds helped a little, but not that much.
The pain was making him cranky, he would yell at anyone or anything for no reason. It was also draining out all of his strength and made everything feel dull and flavourless. He couldn't remember laughing or even feeling happy. He couldn't remember feeling anything else but pain, or what it was like to spend a day, even an hour, without hurting.
Nikky, his mother, hugged him tight when they arrived and tucked some of his hair behind his ear. They were starting to be too long and as they dry off, they were curling in a shaggy tuft. She kissed him on the cheek and wished him a happy birthday. Her eyes were bright and that only made Tom's mood worse. She hugged him again, whispering "My boy". By reflex, his residual limb rose as he hugged her back. But he couldn't touch her with it...They parted and his father, Dom, and his youngest brother, Paddy, greeted him too. A little more manly, but not less emotionally.
And then the freak show begun...
As soon as he was able to, Tom went to sit on the far side of the garden. His twins brothers followed him closely. Then his closest friends, Harrison, Tuwain, Paul and Lizzie, joined them too. The boys were all mates from school. He new Paul since year 4, in Wimbledon college, and the other two from Brit school.
With Lizzie, it was way back from dance classes, before Billy Elliot. They were 5 or 6 when they met and even though they stopped going to that dance studio, even though they weren't in the same school or had the same friends, they kept on seeing each other because she lived ten houses up on the street. She was his oldest friend if not his closest. It was probably why the constant frown on her face since the accident and the way she would scrunch her nose looking at him was so hard to take. He was a cripple, half a man, and that clearly disgusted her.
They chatted about random things. Tom didn't really listened and at some point they stopped trying to get responses from him. This was still better than sitting at the lunch table with everyone else.
He was forced to come back and be the centre of the attention when his mother brought the cake. He used to love her birthday cakes. But right now, his phantom limb was aching in a way he couldn't even describe in words and the fake happiness was making him sick. Tom blew his candles just to please his parents and forced himself to eat a piece of cake. But he knew he was going to threw it up.
It actually gave him a good reason to lock himself in the bathroom and wait until most of the guests left to come out. He spend more than an hour lying on the cold floor, staring at the ceiling, wondering if that was what his life would be now. Just waiting. God only knew what for.
Someone knocked on the door and he recognized Paddy's voice.
-- Are you still alive in there, he asked.
-- Yeah, Tom sighed.
-- Lizzie is leaving. I thought you might want to say goodbye.
He didn't answered. Or moved. He was pretty sure she just came to be polite and didn't really wanted to see him. Like all the times she came to visit him at the hospital with his mother. Because you couldn't say no to your childhood friend's mother when she asked if you wanted to come see him, right? He heard Paddy's footsteps walking away. He should have feel guilt maybe, but he was too numb for that. He kept staring at the ceiling.