Looking for trouble | Vol. 2 | Jamie Bower fanfiction

16 | A Possible Mistake

Skye

Other girls would probably be extremely jealous of me, I reckon. Going to see the dashing mister Hiddleston at a little café must be a dream for hundreds if not thousands of girls. I am not jealous of me. Tom is Tom. Like Jamie is Jamie. They are human beings, not superstars. But I can't help but feeling a little uneasy. He is after all Tom Hiddleston for fucks sake. No, he is Tom. Tom... Jamie... I feel like I am doing something I shouldn't be. It's not like this is a date. If it is illegal for me to see other guys casually - which means as friends - somebody must be soft in the head. This is not a date after all, I'll be fine.

Tom sits at the very back of the small café with his back to the front door, dark blue hood turned up against prying eyes. He has told me this over a text. And it turns out to be quite true. If he hadn't told me I would not have known it was him. The coffee place is like any other in town, filled with wooden floors and furniture in warm red colours. The pleasant smell of coffee hovers in the air. I walk over and tap him on his shoulder.

"Tom?" I ask as he turns a big smile on his face. He stands up to give me a hug warm hug, like we're old friends and not just rescue buddies or something. I roll with it. People are pretty damn friendly here in Hollywood for some reason. Hugs and kisses all around! It just came with the territory it seems.

"Hey Skye," he say. If possible his damn voice is even sexier in person; the thing is practically dripping with testosterone for god's sake. I have my arms wrapped around his neck; he has to crane down for me to do so. He is a little taller than Jamie, but he seems a lot bigger than him. Mostly because he doesn't have the habit of slouching as Jamie does. Tom stands up tall, exactly like he owns the damn place. Who knew I could be so right without intending to? It seems, he does parade around town like he owns it.

We sit down and the drowsiness of pleasant easy conversation takes over. No stress. No drama. He tells me about the scandalous life in Hollywood, and how it is absolutely crucial to go home once in a while, find ones roots again. We talk about our perspective theatre experiences. He has been a lot more successful in his life than I had been in mine. He actually has gone to Eaton. The best school in England for preppy self-centered young male specimen, though Tom hasn't turned out nearly as bad as some of them.

He also assures me, that a lot of the time it is the producer's fault that the movie turns out the wrong way. Not the actors. The producers market the movie the wrong way. Pace the show the wrong way. Choose the wrong ending or deviates to far from the books, which most movies now a day are based upon. But at times the fans are narrow-minded enough to blame it on the cast, though they have done the best job they could under the circumstances. After all it isn't just the actors making the pictures, there is a whole freaking crew of people behind it. The actors are just the faces. And on some level hearing him talk about it all, calms me. Like it isn't all bad. But I am still shifting in my seat at the thought of tomorrow. The start of shooting. Oh dear god. I am not sure anyone can be as excited as I am. I feel like I am going to vomit with excitement.

"We take off tomorrow..." I mutter, looking at my entwined hands on the table.

"First big set?" he asks a crooked smile on his face.

"Jup..."

"ehehe, thought so, you look like a ghost. Don't worry, you were hired for a reason after all" he smiles.

"Yeah, but they could still be the wrong ones.." my voice is low and worried, just like I feel.

"That's their problem, not yours. You just have to focus on the task at hand."

"I reckon..." I mumble, still feeling uneasy. Tom reaches out taking hold on my hands with his big warm one, squeezing it lightly.

"Hey, relax, and enjoy the ride, this is probably going to be the time of your life." he sends me a small smile, still holding his strangely comforting warm hands over mine. I nod agreeing, and send him a small smile. He is right. This probably is the ride of my life and I should enjoy it, instead of being crippled by anxiety, that isn't very helpful.