GyllenHolland: Far From Home

Hang Out

"I'm here." Tom said as he set his stuff down on Jake's coffee table.

"I'll be out in a second!" Jake responded.

He assumed he was just using the restroom. While waiting, he looked around his room. Books, magazines, and CD's were organized and placed neatly on his book shelf. Jake's bed was made, and the apartment was extremely clean. Tom spotted his laptop and curiosity got the best of him. He slyly opened the computer and went through his photos, contacts, and games. He was a bit nosy.

He eventually came across Jake's browsing history, and was utterly shocked. Videos of men displaying sexual acts were the topic of at least five tabs. His face turned red, immediately feeling guilty that he was snooping through his personal belongings. What was he even thinking? Hastily, he turned off his computer.

Just as he did so, the bathroom door opened. "Hey kid," Jake patted him on the back, "how's it going?"

Tom smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. His mind was still in shock mode. He cleared his throat. "Good. Why'd you invite me over?" He looked down, realizing he accidentally let the last part slip.

"Geez man," he laughed, "at least let me sit down before you start questioning my motives." He sat in his rocking chair. "Like I said, I want to get to know you. Plus, whenever I know the cast better, shooting scenes run smoother. And you my friend, if I'm being honest, were all kinds of nervous today."

"Was not." He defensively argued. "I was just having a rough day." Though he knew Jake was right, he didn't want to give him the satisfaction. He's cocky enough as it is.

"Well if that's what you say." Jake kicked his feet up on the chair armrest. Tom took a seat on the edge of his bed. "So, your from the U.K. huh? What's that like?"

"Eh, well, pretty average. At least for me, since I grew up there. Maybe not for you. But it's really cold, like all the time, which can be frustrating." Tom realized he was rambling. "What's it like being an L.A. boy all your life?"

"If anyone here's a boy, it's you." Jake joked. "And it's nice, very crowded, but nice. "

Tom nodded. "Cool." He broke their eye contact. The hardest thing about talking to Jake was his eyes. He never looked away from the person he was talking to, like he was amazed by every little detail of whatever they were rambling about. Tom didn't know if it was creepy, or flattering. "Uhm, what's your favorite colour?" He mentally face palmed.

Jake laughed, Tom's nervous energy obvious. "Red. You?"

He shrugged, trying to play off his dumb question. "Don't really have one."

Jake decided to take over the conversation, seeing that Tom was anxious as hell. "So what did you do growing up? You know, before fame?"

"Oh, well I was in a musical called Billy Elliot for a while, but after that I didn't really do much." He smiled. "I guess you could also count my gymnastics training as something I occupied myself with though."

"Gymnastics?" Jake questioned. "Like backflips and shit?"

Tom laughed. "Backflips, cartwheels, round offs, you name it, I can do it." He often took pride in his flexibility training, finding it one of the best things he did as a child.

"Ah, I see." Jake smiled. "You should totally impress me with one of your tricks."

Tom's face went red, rubbing the back of his neck. He took a deep breath, breaking through with a smile. "Sure, mate." He stood up from the bed, making his way to the middle of the room.

He checked his surroundings before he raised his arms over his head. He swung his arms down and squatted, jumping up backwards into the air. He tucked his knees into his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs to secure the position. He came down, landing on his feet. The room spun a little bit as he kept his self from falling over. He exhaled and smiled. "Impressive enough?"