Contractual Candy

London Baby!

Other celebrities really made no impact on you. But this one. This man. Well he impacted your life like a meteorite falling from space and hitting you smack in the tush.
He's Tom Hardy. And you really shouldn't feel the way you do.
You weren't an impressionable teenager with a crush, you were a busy housewife fighting the age ladder but even so, you found yourself pouring social media for photographs of the man the myth the legend, on a regular basis, casting aside monotonal duties in favour of your naughty little desire. You looked young for your age and felt it every time you looked at this eye pleasing Adonis plastered constantly over your social newsfeeds.
Your kids and your husband humour you, take the piss where ever they can but still buy you gifts that centre on him, calendars and phone cases amongst the many objects you own dedicated to his preened to perfection face.

Basically you are infatuated with this man and spend your spare time running groups in his dedication and watching everything he's ever graced. Interviews, red carpets, TV appearances and movies galore. Following his career means you get to know where he might be, any events he may be attending or hideouts he may frequent.
One particular day in July, your friend calls your cell and you answer in trepidation.

"Got them!!!" She squeals. Your heart skipping a beat.
"We're off to London baby!!"
You think you might faint but you hold it together and text your husband the good news.
"Got the tickets for Leicester Square, I'm booking next weekend off work, you're gonna need to watch the kids".

Your friend had managed to bag tickets to the London premier of Tom Hardy's new movie "Dunkirk" and you felt the panic rising in your chest instantly in hope that you might get to see him in the flesh.

A week and a 4 hour train journey later, you catch a cab with your friend to the hotel you will be staying at that weekend. It's a stones throw from Leicester square and you can already see the place being adorned with promotion equipment and cameras.

As the sun fades, you finish getting ready and try to calm your nerves with some Dutch courage in the form of a double Jack Daniels and coke. You have a slinky black dress on, hoping you can get away with it, the warm summer night allowing for a bit of flesh on show, but you shrug on a light denim jacket just to look like you haven't made too much effort.
Your messy brunette hair falls in cascades to just above your waist and your glad as hell that you had booked a spray tan the previous day and your friend can do subtle make up.

"Smile" your friend teased as she took your photograph using her mobile.
"Babe he's not gonna know what's hit him" she laughs, making it sound like they were definitely in with a chance to actually see tom.
You knew you would be overwhelmed and probably make a complete show of yourself, allowing your nerves to overtake your sense but at the very least you just wanted a selfie with him, every man and his dog in Richmond had one these days, since he tended to walk around and pose for his fans so much and you were fed up of being green with envy at the sight of them all. Tonight you were gonna make sure you got your own!