--1st person POV--
"Artie you sly dog!"
"Are you dating this actress, Arthur? For real?"
"How the hell did you manage to score with a chick like that?"
"She probably just fancied a change from all those Hollywood types, right Arthur?"
"Where d'you meet her?"
His coworkers questions were still reverberating around Arthur's head, and had been all day.
That morning as he'd set off for work he had initially thought he'd been hallucinating when he'd passed by the local news vendor and noticed his own face plastered across the front page.
Naturally he'd purchased one to read on the train, despite still doubting his own mind.
But the man who'd sold him the paper recognised him. And then his work colleagues had bombarded him with questions and unwelcome comments the minute he'd walked into work.
They'd all seen the article. So it had to be real. It wasn't just an elaborate trick conjured by his own overactive imagination.
For the rest of the day it had been on his mind, for numerous reasons.
He wasn't overly embarrassed because of the publicity. On the contrary it had felt kind of good having the guys at work clap him on the back, congratulating him on having seduced such a desirable, famous, young woman.
But as much as he'd felt good, gaining their respect and admiration, the victory felt hollow because it was false.
The newspaper had gotten it all wrong, speculating about him and you, and deep down he felt guilty for not being honest with the guys at work and setting them straight.
Arthur wished it were true. He wished it could be, but it was impossible.
Why would you want a guy like him? He had nothing to offer.
During his twenty minute lunch break he'd sat chain-smoking, replaying the many interactions and conversations he'd had with you over the past few weeks.
The fact that your friendship has blossomed was obvious. You'd grown more familiar with each other.
One particular example of that occurred the day after you'd been to the park.
You'd arrived at his apartment, panicking due to yet more scrip changes.
As you'd sat drinking tea, trying to memorise the new dialogue for the scene you'd be filming the next day, Arthur had offered to help.
He didn't know how he could be of much use, but he couldn't bear to see you worrying.
Grateful for his offer, you asked him to read out Trent's new lines, to help you rehearse.
Reluctantly he did. Feeling shy and awkward to begin with...
"I'm no good at acting."
You smiled at him. "You don't have to act it out, Art. Just read the lines for me."
"Yeah but...I'll feel kinda silly."
"Well that makes two of us then. I always feel silly rehearsing a scene, don't worry."
Still feeling a little foolish, he'd sat in the armchair clutching the sheet of paper. "Um, okay." He cleared his throat. "Sarah I l-love you." His cheeks blazed, but he persisted, trying to ignore how flustered he felt. "I'm sorry for everything I've done. You've stood by me all my life and I never saw it. Never realised until now that I need you."
"Oh, Jack. Do you really mean it? You've made me so happy and--"
"Wait, you mean she actually falls for this crap?" Arthur interrupted incredulously, frowning.
You shrugged. "It's a romantic movie. You know what they're like."
He shook his head. "Can't say I'm a big fan. But why would Sarah want this asshole after everything he's put her through? It makes no sense."
Laughing, you took hold of his hand and pulled him out of his seat. "I know, Arthur. It's garbage. But I still need to learn it. So can you please try and get into character a little?"
"You said I didn't have to act."
"You don't. But it might help if you're focused on the scene rather than the shitty plot."
Arthur chuckled softly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay I'll try."
"Great. Can you start over please?"
He sighed but did as you asked. "Sarah I love you. I'm sorry for everything I've done. You've stood by me all my life and I never saw it. Never realised until now that I need you." He read, the monotone of his voice making you giggle more.
"Oh, Jack. Do you really mean it?" You instinctively moved towards him. "You've made me so happy and...you know what? It doesn't even matter. Just shut up and kiss me."
Silence ensued as you gazed at him expectantly.
"What?" Arthur asked.
"You're supposed to kiss me."
His eyes widened. "I...I am? But I'm not Trent."
"No, thank god. But you are supposed to be Jack."
His heart was beating so fast he was pretty sure he'd have a heart attack any second.
Okay so it wasn't real but you were willingly giving him the opportunity to kiss you.
Him.
But then the worse thing imaginable had happened.
He'd erupted into a fit of chest-wracking laughter, ruining the moment completely, and because he'd told you at your very first meeting that it was usually brought on by anxiety...well, you'd naturally felt responsible.
"I'm sorry, Art." You patted his back gently, once the laughter eventually died down. "I shouldn't have made you feel uncomfortable like that."
"N-no, you didn't (y/n). Honestly."
His ribs ached from all the laughing, and his heart ached from having lost the one chance he'd ever have to kiss you.
Remembering it still made his cheeks burn with shame. He was an idiot. An idiot for torturing himself like this.
Once the shop he was sign-spinning for closed, he headed straight home. Taking his chances knowing he'd be ridiculed for his costume, but the way he was feeling right now made even the prospect of getting beaten up preferable to having to face his workmates again.
Back at his apartment he sat at the table, scribbling furiously into his journal for a whole hour. Pouring his heart out onto the page.
Not having anyone to talk to, he found it therapeutic to get all of his thoughts out of his head.
Afterwards he took a shower, scrubbing off his makeup so that the water turned purple as it swirled down the drain. The warm jets of water bounced off his head, which was still buzzing. Still overloaded with too many thoughts and turbulent feelings.
The newspaper article had mentioned your ex lovers. Claiming that you'd dated some rock star named Karl Ryder, then the actor Sebastian Rivers just weeks after your split with the rock star. It also stated that you were supposedly on a trial separation with Rivers, even though you'd also recently been linked to your co-star Trent as well.
'How will Sebastian respond when he discovers she's been spending her free time in Gotham with this new mystery man?' It had read. 'And what must co-star Trent Cipriani have to say on the matter?
Fucking Trent Cipriani, Arthur thought sourly.
You'd only ever spoken harshly about your co-star. Could it be true that you were involved with him? You were both staying at the same hotel. But you spent a lot of your time here, with him. Why would you do that if you were having a fling with Trent?
He was at a loss to understand.
Throwing on a pair of light blue sweatpants, Arthur made himself a strong coffee. To hell with his insomnia, he needed the caffeine fix.
Then taking his journal he headed over to the couch. Turning to a clean page he began writing again. Only this time he added a fake name to shield your identity, knowing that his social worker would read it at some point.
I've loved Sarah for years but now we're close it's real. I can't get her out of my head. She's like the sun that sets, the moon that rises, and everything else in between. But there's someone else. I'm not sure who exactly, but it means I can't ever be with her, and it's breaking my fucking heart.
Just then there came a knock at the door, making him jump. Setting the book down he made his way into the hall, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.
He opened the door to you like that. Cigarette between his lips. His wet hair scraped back, his chest bare.
"(y/n)!" He exclaimed, hastily removing the cigarette. "You're....you're early!"
"I know." You gave an apologetic smile and tried to keep your eyes on his face. "I got an early finish because I kept floofing my lines. I hope you don't mind me coming straight here, but I just really needed to talk to you about this."
You held up a crumpled copy of today's newspaper.
Blushing, Arthur stood aside so you could enter. "Of course I don't mind."
"Thank you. I've not been able to think straight all day."
That made two of you, Arthur thought with a sad smile.
"You want some tea?" He asked, making his way into the kitchen.
"You got anything stronger?"
He shook his head apologetically. "Only coffee I'm afraid. I'm not supposed to drink alcohol 'cause of my medication."
"It's okay, Art. I was half-joking anyway. I need to keep a clear head to learn the new script tonight."
You followed him into the kitchen. Arthur flipped on the electric kettle and leaned back against the counter, folding his arms awkwardly across his chest.
You noticed how thin he was. How could you not? Yet you didn't find his thinness at all off-putting. All you saw was the man you had feelings for. His handsome face. The lips you couldn't help thinking about kissing, and now the chest you suddenly longed to run your hands over.
Stop it, you mentally screamed, a hot flush crawling up your neck.
"I'm....so sorry...about all of this." You gestured to the paper, then threw it down on the counter. "I had no idea."
"You don't have to apologise (y/n). It's not your fault."
"No but I should've known better. Reporters have been hanging around the hotel since I arrived in Gotham. They must've been following me."
"That sucks." He took a drag on his cigarette, his piercing green eyes traversing your face.
"I know. But I'm kinda used to it now."
"Yeah but you shouldn't have to be. How are you supposed to live a normal life?"
"I don't." You smile sadly. "But it comes with the territory. And I feel awful for dragging you into this. I really am sorry."
"Don't be." He turned away to pour your tea. "Uh, w-will your boyfriend be mad? He should understand though, right? Once you explain."
"My boyfriend? Ugh. You mean Sebastian? We're not together anymore."
Arthur nodded. "I know, it said in the paper that you guys were on a break."
Unable to suppress your burst of laughter, you shook your head. "The press often get stories wrong, Art. Sebastian and I are over."
Arthur spun around to face you, his expression one of cautious astonishment. "But...you were hoping to work things out. Weren't you?"
"Not at all." You sighed heavily, wondering where to begin. You'd never talked about your complicated love life with Arthur before, but now it was unavoidable. "I know how bad it looks. My reputation has never been worse. I did start dating Sebastian soon after Karl, but it was nothing serious with Karl. I mean, he's a rock star for god sake. You know what those guys are like. They collect women like some men collect stamps."
Arthur ran a large hand over his damp hair, cigarette smoke pouring from his nostrils. "Was it serious with Sebastian?"
He watched as you lower your gaze to the floor. "He thought it was. I guess I did too for a while but...I realised it wasn't really what I wanted. He loves the spotlight too much and I didn't want to live that way. Our lives being one big media circus."
"And Trent?" Arthur asked nervously.
You scoffed. "Those rumours were false. We worked together on a movie once before and we got on as friends, but he had a girlfriend. The press made it look like we were having some type of sordid affair and Trent didn't discourage them. He wanted the scandal, knowing the publicity would help further his career."
Recounting the way in which Trent had used you to his advantage made you feel both angered and upset.
Arthur saw your face crumple with discomfort, and instinctively placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Hey, don't get upset. It's okay."
His soft voice and tender touch almost made you come undone. He was so kind and thoughtful. That in itself was enough to make you cry.
"Thank you Arthur. You're so good to me."
Arthur smiled. "That's what friends are for, right?"
You nodded. "Right."
"Besides, only idiots believe everything they read in the paper. You only have to look at me to figure out that story isn't true."
You looked at him curiously. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well...look at me." He held his arms open wide. "As if I'd be the kind of guy you'd go for."
You were frowning at him now, feeling saddened by him having such a low opinion of himself. "There's nothing wrong with you, Art."
Snorting, he replied sarcastically. "There's not much right with me either."
"You're being silly."
"No I'm being realistic."
At his insistence he carried your tea into the living room for you, then excused himself while he went to put on a shirt.
Sitting down on the couch you realised you'd almost sat on something.
Arthur's notebook.
You didn't intend to read it, but it was open, and as you moved it aside your eyes fell on the words...
I've loved Sarah for years but now we're close it's real. I can't get her out of my head. She's like the sun that sets, the moon that rises, and everything else in between. But there's someone else. I'm not sure who exactly, but it means I can't ever be with her, and it's breaking my fucking heart.
You felt completely winded, like someone was placing heavy blocks on top of your chest, slowly crushing you to death, forcing all the air out of your lungs.
Arthur was in love with someone?
He'd never mentioned anything. Not that it was any of your business really.
But still, the dramatic revelation shook you.
In fact it did more than that.
You felt utterly distraught.
The irony that you'd finally met a decent man who was already in love with another woman, hurt more than you would've expected. More than you would've liked.
Shit. You really did feel very deeply for Arthur. Deeper than you'd realised, which was only apparent now that you'd learned of this Sarah, whoever she was.
"Sorry about that."
You looked up as he came back into the room, now wearing a thin sweatshirt.
"It's...okay." You managed, with great effort.
Your eyes were glued to him as he sat down, smiling his adorable, slightly lopsided smile.
Your heart pinched painfully.
Whoever this Sarah was, you almost pitied her. To have the love of this man and not know. Or if she did know, you despised her. Because why would she not want Arthur? His imperfections made him beautifully perfect. And of course you couldn't help envying her.
Damn. What you wouldn't give to have him feel that way about you.
And just like that you suddenly felt so overwhelmed with sadness. You had to get out of here. You couldn't do this, not after the day you'd had. And the last thing you wanted was to have another emotional breakdown like you did the very first time you came. It wasn't fair on Arthur.
"Are you okay?" He asked, noticing that you'd visibly paled.
Nodding leadenly you faked a bright smile. Giving the performance of your life. "Yeah I'm fine. Just really tired." You took a deep, calming breath. "You know I think I'm going to go, Art. If you don't mind?"
His brow creased, face filled with concern. "Why? Is something wrong?"
Standing, you waved your hand dismissively. "No, I just need an early night that's all. I think all the late nights are catching up with me, and if I don't get my shit together for tomorrow Glen will fire my ass."
"Oh. Okay. Aren't you going to call your driver?"
"He's already waiting out front." You lied. It felt awful lying to him, but you just needed to get away before you burst into tears. "I told him I couldn't stay long because I have lines to learn still."
Arthur nodded understandingly, walking you to the door. "Well I hope you get some rest. Perhaps you're working too hard."
"Perhaps I am. Thanks Arthur, and I'm sorry again....about everything."
"It's fine. Don't worry." He assured you, as you gave him a brief hug. "Still on for tea tomorrow?"
"O-of course."
A lump had formed in your throat now, making it difficult to swallow or breath. Your legs didn't seem able to move quickly enough towards the elevator, they felt like lead. Like you were wading through quicksand.
You waved to each other. The elevator door scarcely had time to slide shut before you dissolved into floods of tears.
You walked to the pay phone on the corner to call your driver. Then you made your way back to Arthur's building, where you stood resting your head against the rough brick wall as you waited, mascara staining your cheeks.
But you couldn't care less about how you looked. Even if the loathsome paparazzi showed up right now, you wouldn't have cared. All of that seemed so insignificant and pointless now.
All that mattered to you, was Arthur.
And if the press did turn up, you'd be forced to tell them that your so called 'mystery man' wasn't yours, because his heart belonged to another.