Am I Beautiful?

Chapter 2.

Song of the chapter: Aeroplane, NeverShoutNever.

Lyric of choice:

Life's a dream and we're the dreamers, and lately I've been dreaming of you.

Call me crazy but maybe, baby, I'm hopping on an aeroplane to see you again.

My friends are gonna hate me. I told em' I was leaving on an aeroplane to the Big Apple to get into some trouble.

But honestly, I would rather see you than be sleepin' around, bein' a clown, playin' I fool and then falling down.

Tom.

I smile over at spencer, flopping down into my chair as I wait for my scene, he sends me a wink and I swallow the blush that prickles up my neck. Spencer came off as a dick, if I was to be completely candour, but after talking to him for three months I had (rather stupidly as I never really did) developed a crush on him.

Yes, it was true! I Tom, fancied someone for real since I was in UNI.

I turn away from his eye contact and listen to the director's instructions that he shouts to everyone standing in front of the large bright green screen with a few small props on different height-ed stilts and angles. I can still feel Spencer's eyes on my body, his gaze on flickering over me, and Spencer wasn't the only one watching me.

I didn't mean to sound conceded, but I kept finding that whenever I looked out of the corner of my eyes there was Ben, looking away quickly. I smile to myself, it was nice to have people think I was worth staring at, I sure as hell didn't think I was.

I turn my head towards Benedict and he slumps into his chair, looking over at the snack table with over interest, studying the details, I smile to myself and turn away.

Maybe attention wasn't as bad as my mum made it out to be.

I fold my hands and cross my right leg over my left, tucking my hands in my lap and fixing my gaze on them. I felt a hand clasp over my shoulder, "Hey Tom!" he says and I feel my breath hitch in my throat, "Spencer!" I say almost too eager. I swallow my attitude as best as I can, my heart beat speeding up so fast I swore it could be seen through my shirt.

He wraps his arms around my front, "How ARE you?" I watch him send a smirk over Benedict's way. I uncross my legs and lift my head, "You are I trust well?" he stares directly into my eyes and I feel my heart bounce into my throat and I nod nervously.

His breath smelled like sugared coffee and I think back to mornings spent with my mum and dad, before dad and mum split. Those days were never peaceful, mostly spent putting a facade up for me and then listening to them bite at each other each night. It ended quickly when dad threw two lamps in my mum's general direction and I hear her scream, resulting in me chasing him out of the house, yelling to never touch her again. He never hit her or hurt her in any way, but dad thought it best to take his pride and my hope for a normal childhood along with him by the next week.

But mom never seemed to mind, she knew we could make it on our own.

And we did.

It was our close relationship that didn't turn me into one of those 'tragic' closet cases until mum found me grinding on another boy. I told her when I was sixteen and she nodded, smiled and told me she didn't mind and that she still loved me. In fact she tried to help me get a boyfriend multiple times, but I never needed anyone but her and the cute boys in Shakespeare's stories and the men in books.

They were always there, they didn't leave. Constant. I needed that.

Need that.

I remember to tune myself back into Spencer's anecdotes, he blabbers on about a heroic tale of measures but all I manage to do is nod, smile, say 'neat' and 'oh wow!' over and over between staring at his lips.