𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲

Nine | Studio

TOM

HER APARTMENT wasn't an apartment per say, it was the bottom storey of Magda's house that she rented and that Magda had renovated to be self contained. It was like a studio apartment really. The small kitchenette was a few metres from the bathroom which was a few metres from her bed and a little table. It was quaint.

"Sorry, this is probably like so gross for you to be in," she groaned, kicking her heels off at the door and shuffling to the little kitchenette to pour her and I glasses of water.

"I like it, yeah it's small but it's all you need for one person right? And you have a good eye for interior design or whatever, everything looks nice," I smiled, sitting on the end of her bed as she brought the glasses over.

"Who's that?" I asked pointing to the small kitten curled up on the top of a little cat scratching post in the corner.

"That's Dash, he's just a baby though so he sleeps a lot," she called out from the kitchen.

"I'm not a fan of cats, sorry. They're evil and conniving and just, I don't know. I'm allergic if they get too close to me," I laughed.

"He won't get close to you don't worry. I don't really have space for a couch I'm sorry," she laughed, passing me a cup as she drank from her own.

"I was going to ask you about your dating life since you grilled me about mine with Zendaya, but I already have my answer," I joked, pointing to the discarded sex toy on the floor next to her bed.

She quickly kicked it under the bed and covered her face, groaning and telling me that 'single women still have needs' with a laugh.

"So?" I said raising my eyebrow at her as she sat on the end of the bed next to me.

"So what?" She responded.

"So what's your dating life like? Do you get cheated on with French men?" I laughed.

"Dating is hard when you work in this industry. Like, I have crazy long hours and I'm always on call. The past two dates I went on, were a train wreck," she laughed back.

She proceeded to tell me about one of her more recent dates where she went to a restaurant with a guy after work and had a work call during it. She excused herself, took the call and then came back. He seemed fine and they continued the date. After the second call however, she came back to an empty table and a fifty dollar bill under his napkin.

"And last week, I met up with this guy and you know, things got a bit hot and heavy. Which was fine until my phone started ringing whilst he was going down on me, I ignored it, it rung again, I ignored it and then put it on silent. It just continued to vibrate on the bedside table and he got so annoyed he left... So yeah, my work ruins everything," she groaned as I laughed.

"You don't treat me like a famous person you know," I interrupted.

"What?"

"That story you just told, you wouldn't normally tell that to a random person you work with. And definitely not one of the celebrities on your film. You just treat me normally... I like it," I smiled.

"Well I feel like I started to get to know you on a personal level for that whole fake boyfriend thing until they stopped it. So I kind of started uncovering the real Tom Holland and not the famous one. I still barely know you but enough to know you're chill," she grinned.

"I'm still the same person being famous and not famous you know, I'm just like, I dunno. Less open in the public eye I guess... It's why I always go golfing with the boys, it's in public but there's nobody else around you," I said falling down onto my back and staring at the ceiling.

"I've never been to a golf range in my entire life. I've done putt putt golf with those glow in the dark balls and stuff... But that doesn't really count as proper golf does it?" She laughed, laying down onto her back too and swinging her legs back and forth off the edge of the bed.

"I mean, you still need to be a good putter on a golf range. But it's satisfying hitting the ball further than a metre, I'll take you with me one day," I smiled.

We spoke for what seemed like hours, and our glasses of water turned into homemade cocktails which just consisted of juice and vodka at best. We realised we weren't tired in the slightest and that we may as well keep the conversation going with more alcohol.

It was great, talking with Y/N made me feel normal again. And let me tell you, I haven't felt like that in fucking years. Don't get me wrong, I still go to the grocery store with Haz and buy my own food and stuff, but there's always something about going out in public that made me feel like I was always on high alert.

Here though, in this tiny studio sized room with a girl who wasn't going to sell my stories to the media or take secret photos of me, felt really nice. I didn't have to look my best, I didn't have to watch what I said in case someone heard, I was unapologetically me.

"You want like, a t-shirt to change into or something? That button up looks uncomfortable and tight," she said rolling off the bed and flicking through her wardrobe.

"No, no, it's fine. Don't worry about me, I've gotta get going soon anyway," I said before she skipped to the bathroom quickly to change into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt herself.

"That dress was so bloody uncomfortable. You know I bought it straight after work today because you invited me out and I had nothing nice enough to wear? I mean, I do have some nice clothes but not nice enough for an event like that," she admitted, crossing her legs on the end of the bed.

"You got it today? Aw Y/N, I'm sorry, you didn't have to go out and buy something," I said furrowing my brows and pouting.

"I didn't want to look like shit around all those people... They already would've judged me for being there, I needed to at least look good enough to sort of blend in," she joked.

"Well I thought you looked stunning."