You are a hardworking young actor that catches a big break, resulting in you attending your first big awards show. Among the famous faces you see that night: Tom Hiddleston. You only ever intended to admire him from afar, but he has different plans...
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Should have read the email Mark sent rather than blindly accepting whatever he told you as the best plan of action. Should have known a short statement - a glossing over of the fact you have a difficult relationship with the maternal side of your family - wouldn't be the end of it. Couldn't have been that easy. Not your life. Not your luck. A non-negotiable interview, something following the short statement, ideally meant to shift the spotlight that was shining in your direction. Just Mark doing his job. Not that that knowledge helped to lessen the torment as the questions were lobbed in your direction.
Also? Also another addition to your everyday social circle. Mark lands that on you after the interview, just when you thought you were going to be granted reprieve. Someone else to witness to be granted first row seats to the mess you're desperately trying to call a life. For all that you battled Mark on having personal security, you have come to enjoy having Richard around, both for safety and for the friendship. Who says, a very very small part of you argues, that the same won't happen to the newly assigned personal assistant?
The sprawling crew of the Touring Sundays sequel may be based in Madrid but, depending on the day, a small army of cast and crew take over Tres Cantos or Alcala de Henares, respectively. You explore on your off days, Matt doing his best to entertain, but all you can think about is how things ended with Tom. You snap photos, and laugh when it's proper, but that last conversation haunts you. You hear echoes of it underneath the noise of your surroundings.
Payback. It was payback, all along.
He probably kept right on loving you, or at least loving the person he thought you were, right up until that moment. He hasn't reached out, hasn't asked after you via the ever-complicated relationship maintained by the trio of bodyguards.
Not that you blame Tom for any of it.
Insofar as you're concerned, you can't help but seek out any bit of information about him. More than a bit masochistic since you were the one that refused to turn around and talk things out with him, but there it is. You completely understand why it isn't reciprocated.
Everyone seems to have an opinion. Everyone has something to say, even weeks after. Some call you callous, some accuse you of being shallow, undeserving. Some claim that the pair of you will find each other again. Some say they always knew it would end, and end badly. Some say the pair of you were too different, some say too similar.
Every off day before Richard appears, ready for the morning run, before Matt appears with his lengthy itinerary, you look at the weather and then at the cost of the tickets from Madrid to London. It's a temptation that you're determined not to fall to, an end to this Groundhog's Day madness that grips you.
Just as you refuse to randomly reappear in his life, he too seems to be doing the same. Regardless of your faults and how you treated him, some small part of you expects Tom to pop out from around any given corner. If he did – if he did it would be the end of it. You'd throw yourself at him, at his mercy. There would be no hesitation.
