𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲

Twelve | Technicality

Y/N

"AH TOM! The Tomster! Tommy gun! How are you my man? Feeling the jet lag or are you already hitting the Moroccan clubs and sliding into the hearts and pussies of the local ladies? You dirty dog, you better be doing us lads proud down there in Africa," One of Tom's managers said loudly over the phone, his strong cockney accent being quite prevalent.

Tom cleared his throat before looking at me with a facial expression mixed of both shock and apology. I hadn't met this particular manager, I had only met two other female representatives of his talent agency.

"Oh woah, uh, no women yet mate, just um, I'm here with Y/N in Marrakech at the crew house and you're on speaker... I got an email from Shelly and a few missed calls from Lavinia, just wanted to um, talk about the 'issue' everyone mentioned?" Tom said shyly, still embarrassed about this managers crude style of speaking.

He muted himself on the call quickly to tell me he wasn't fond of this guy and that he was 'a fucking bellend' which I laughed at.

Tom had a way of making himself feel comfortable in any situation, except for those where he was genuinely uncomfortable. Wait. That sounded really dumb, let me rephrase that. Tom has an uncanny knack for making himself at home where ever he is. There we go, that's more like it.

He's splayed out on his side lying on the bed, his head propped up on his elbow. The phone was down near his knee in the middle of the both of us, with me sitting at the end of the bed.

When he was at my little studio, he just walked around in my trackies and no shirt, talking to me as if we had been friends for years. Not because he was cocky or confident in his body (which he definitely should be), but because he finally felt relaxed without the constant fear of media attention.

"Oh yeah that's the immigrant girl right?" The cockney manager said.

"No, Y/N is the girl who helped me get my visa extended on the visa papers. Look we're kind of busy so can you get to the important stuff mate? I'm sorry," Tom said to hurry the conversation along.

"Ah yeah same thing. So cutting to the chase, the immigration papers you both signed saying you were in a de facto relationship got leaked. We will take legal action against that prick, don't worry. The good news however, is that Y/N's name was blurred digitally so the only thing the internet knows right now is that Tom is legally in a relationship," the executive stated.

"And that means what for us?" Tom said looking at me and intently listening for his managements response.

"We need you to stay away from any romantic links, rumours, gestures or speculations for at least four months Tom. They don't know who your supposed girlfriend is, but if any publicity shots or rumours leak online linking you to a girl that isn't Y/N, we're all screwed. It'll show the American government you completely lied," he stated bluntly.

"For four months? Are you joking?" Tom spluttered.

"Well, you can, but it needs to be extremely discreet. If you want to bring some Moroccan bird back to your bed, you need to go back in a group so no potential fans or sly dogs with cameras see you alone with her alright?" He laughed.

"Four months... Right... Why four?" Tom asked cocking his head to the side.

"Just seemed like a decent time for a 'serious' relationship to slowly end realistically. Alright mate, I'll let you go. Bye," he said before swiftly hanging up.

"Four months... Wow Tom, I'm sorry. That would be so shit," I said chuckling empathetically.

"It's actually kind of fine. I haven't been with anyone since Zendaya so I can push this out a little longer. The bright side to all of this, is that your name wasn't leaked. Which is great cos trust me, you don't want to have a romance scandal online," he said casually, sitting up and leaning against the bed head smiling up at me.

"Wait wait wait, go back. When you say you haven't been with anyone with Zendaya, you mean like, proper dating dating right?" I said turning towards him and furrowing my brows. It was only until he laughed and told me I had 'no filter' that I realised I overstepped. He didn't mind though.

"Fuck, you really do just go straight for the tough questions hey? Um, no not just dating," he shrugged.

"Tom... You haven't slept with anyone since breaking up with her? Oh dude! You need a rebound to get over her, then you can clear the board and start fresh!" I said over dramatically gasping at him.

"Well now I can't because some American prick leaked government documents! He better get fired and sued I swear to god," he laughed.

"You still technically can, you just need to be discreet. I'll be your wingman if you want. Like, if you find someone whilst you're out one night, I'll be the awkward third wheel around you guys in public so nobody speculates anything. Then once you and her get out of the public eye I'll fuck off and I'll never speak of it again. I'm like a secret vault," I laughed, getting off the bed and walking back towards his bedroom door.

"You're actually really fucking cool, you know that right?" He smiled at me.

"I know I am. But seriously, after being half of the reason you're in all this visa mess, the least I can do is help you get laid and stop being all sad over your ex," I smiled back, leaving his room and walking down the hall to my own room.

My room was a lot smaller, I shared it with one of the other girls in the crew and we didn't have nearly as great a view that Tom did. At all.

Sometimes when I'm working and get shittier rooms and shittier bathrooms, shittier flights and shittier lunches, I wish I was famous like him. But most of the time, being famous sounds like a fucking living nightmare.