Got Your Number

Ch. 11 - What D'you Mean, Can't?

"So, I was thinking..." Tom tells you on the phone one morning.

"Dangerous business, that," you comment, poking fun at him a bit. He takes it well, laughing a little before coninuing his train of thought.

"...I've been thinking, I have a stretch of down-time coming up, and I'd like to see you."

You inhale sharply, making a sound between a gasp and a squeak. Like a mouse being stepped on, you think. "You have seen me, though. We ran into each other that one morning."

"No, I don't mean see you as in physically see you," Tom explains, "although that would be nice, I mean I want to actually spend a bit of time with you while I have the time and the opportunity. Get to know the girl who lives on the other side of my mobile. I think you know what I'm saying - don't you?"

You're quiet for a moment, as you're not sure that you do. Tom - Tom Hiddleston, the single closest thing to perfection in a human being that this world has had the privalege of knowing - wants to get together with you, plain old ordinary nothing-special you...

"Are you still there, darling?" he asks, sounding a bit concerned.

"Yeah, I'm here, I'm just thinking," you reply. "Probably overthinking. Sure, I'd love to do something. How's Friday sound?"

----

Thursday - you're at work, about to close up, so you figure it's all right to take a call.

 "I can't do tomorrow."

You lean against the counter, wedging your mobile between your ear and your shoulder as you count the cash from the register. "What?"

"I can't do tomorrow," Tom repeats, "something's come up. I'm truly sorry, I was actually looking forward -"

"No, it's fine," you interject., "I understand. You're a busy guy, it's really not a big deal."

You say that, but it does sort of hurt. You were just actually starting to accept that he actually wanted to see you, to let yourself believe that Tom Hiddleston wanted to meet you... and now this. It just sort of confirms your thought that someone as prominent as him doesn't have time for doing normal things with normal people. You shouldn't feel like this, you know it's a little selfish, but you'd gotten your hopes up..

He apologizes a few more times and tries to explain, there's nothing he can do, obligations, obligations... but you aren't really listening. You tell him not to worry about it. It's okay.

You try not to let it bother you as you close up and ride the tube home, but it still nags at you. When you actually get to your flat you can't bear to do much but sit on the sofa and try not to think about it, though eventually you do. Why did you think that it'd actually go as planned? That'd be too easy. You feel terrible. You feel terrible for feeling terrible. He's famous - it's not like he can turn it off...

----

 Friday comes. You weren't originally scheduled to work, but Talia was ill and it's not like you've got plans... While you're there, Tom texts you and tells you to turn on your radio.

To:  Tom

What for?

From:  Tom

Just do it, okay?

Shaking your head, you flip on the radio on the counter. You're sure no one in the shop will mind. You're closing. It's just you, the manager, and one or two other employees. It tunes in just as an advert is ending, and the host's voice returns. "And we're back, today we've got Tom Hiddleston in with us; and before we went to break we were talking about all you've been up to recently - been busy, haven't you? Do you ever have downtime anymore?"

You bend over the counter, resting your chin in your hands and wondering why he was so keen on you hearing the interview he cancelled on you for.

 His voice comes through the speakers. "A very small amount, but I do get some. I was actually supposed to be free today, had plans and everything - sorry about that, since I know the person I cancelled on is listening; or at least I hope they are, because if not that was a bit weird of me to do..."

Even though you know that nobody knows he's referring to you, you go an awful shade of red. You're so irrationally embarrassed that you can't listen to any more of the interview, so you turn off the radio and race to the back to get your things so you can get out of here and go home, crawl into bed and just die.

Later, he rings you and asks if you heard it. "Of course I heard it," you reply, "And I accept your apology, but honestly, did you have to literally broadcast it to the world?"