Behind the Scenes (Tom Hiddleston fanfiction)

||1|| Salt Skin

I awoke to beating on my apartment door. At first it had been polite knocking, though it quickly turned aggressive.

"Beatrice, we are running late," an irritated voice yelled at me through the door.

I groaned. I hated when people called me Beatrice. That could only mean it was Luke, who derived pleasure from calling me the name I hated most.

A different voice quipped, "Bea, please get up and let us in. We need to get going."
I allowed my eyes to open. I knew this polite voice with the proper, english accent.

Tom.

"I'm coming," I grumbled loud enough for them to hear me through the door.
My apartment was small, with my bedroom roughly five feet away from the entrance.

I attempted to stand out of my bed, but as usual my feet was tangled in the sheets and I fell out of the bed and onto my face.

"Ow," I shouted, my nose stinging and my forehead pounding.
"Bea, are you okay," Tom shouted worriedly.

I crawled, still tangled in the sheets, until I reached the door.

I unlocked it and said, "You can come in."

As the door opened, Tom and Luke looked down at me, curled on the floor tangled in sheets.
Tom smiled sympathetically at me and quickly untangled me, pulling me to my feet.

"Beatrice it is six fifteen. We needed to leave at six. Please go get ready so we can go," Luke said exasperatedly.

"Can you call me Bea," I asked indifferently.
"No but I can fire you," Luke said with a grin, his brows arched.

I sighed and stomped away to my bathroom to brush my teeth and fix my hair.
You see, I was the assistant to the actor Tom Hiddleston. Although we were more like friends than workers.
I'd been working for Tom for a little less than a year now, since the beginning of filming of I Saw The Light.

I had a friend who managed to get me the job, and by the grace of God it got me far away from my family and hometown.


"I'm going to grab a random shirt and pair of pants for you, okay," Tom called to me.

I poked my head around the corner of the door and mumbled around my toothbrush, "Leggings. I want my leggings."

Tom looked confused, although I wasn't sure if it was because he couldn't understand what I was saying, or because like most men I knew he truly didn't get what leggings were.
I groaned and stomped over beside him at my dresser and opened the top drawer, pulling out a pair of black leggings.
Stomping over to my closet, I grabbed a pair of track shorts to place over my leggings.

"Big. Shirt," I mumbled loudly to him around my toothbrush, pointing at my closet.

I hurried back into the bathroom to spit.
Moments later I walked back into my room to see where Tom had laid out my over-sized Jurassic Park t-shirt.
I grabbed my clothes up and hurried into the bathroom to change.
I left my hair alone, since I went everywhere with my naturally messy hair as it was.
I quickly put on a little powder and eyeliner, pleased with how I looked.
I walked back into my room and slipped my track shoes on.
I grabbed my phone, iPod, and earbuds before walking into the small living room where Tom and Luke waited.

"Your bags are loaded in the car with your purse. Let's go," Luke said, hurrying to the door.
"But I'm hungry," I whined.

Luke turned to me with narrowed eyes. 
"Then we will get you something on the way to the airport. We have to go now!"

I sighed and trailed behind Luke, Tom locking the door behind me.
"I just wanted my granola bar," I grumbled quietly.
Tom gave my back a pat as we approached the SUV. He opened the door for me to slide into the seat, him sliding in beside me.

"Okay," Luke said as the driver began to slowly pull away from my apartment and drive us to the airport, "As soon as we land in Pensacola, we have to immediately get to the hotel. You will have enough time to change because by four-thirty the interviewers will be knocking on our door. After that, you will both be free to do whatever. However, I did make dinner reservations for six."

I asked, "What am I supposed to do?"
Luke looked back at me and said, "You do nothing. If Tom needs something obviously he'll ask. So I guess just sit back and wait for the interview to be over."

I shrugged and closed my eyes as I leaned my head against the window.
I don't know how long I'd been asleep, but Tom was prodding me awake as he handed me a small bag of baby hashbrowns from Burger King.

"Baby hashbrowns," I squealed, shoveling them into my mouth two at a time.