The guys who looked like me

The Letter

Toms POV

A loud noise made me wince. It was the sound of a cars horn. I had been so busy with thinking of the previous events that I barely managed to avoid the silver Toyota Camry that drove past me, only some centimeters away.
Adrenaline kicked through my veins and my heart beat raised on the instant. I had totally missed that the traffic light had turned red.
"Damn it", I whispered to myself. The people around looked at me disparagingly while I managed to get off the street without getting hit by a car. I groaned. This was definitely not my day.
At first, I had missed this important call from my secretary and when I decided to walk some blocks to my favorite music shop the song I wanted to buy was sold out. And because it can always be worse I had been spotted by a paparazzo who had made a beautiful picture of me right in front of the store. As if I didn't have enough problems on my own right now!
I straightened out my tie and closed the middle button of my jacket, took a deep breath and went through my hair in order to save my hairstyle but the loose strains just fell back into my sight. I groaned again and gave up on them. Now I regretted my decision to let my hair grow a bit longer. Although I liked the way the long strains curled in my neck I was a little bit upset with how often I had to straighten them up. And of course, I had much more work in the morning because my hair looked like a complete mess. A year ago that hadn't been a problem, but now it was taking half an hour of my entire day to get them back on track.
However, I continued walking along the streets of new york, back to the mansion I was living in.
" Tom!" somebody shouted at me. Oh no! I walked faster, trying to avoid whoever tried to reach me, but I wasn't fast enough. I already hated this day and it was just eleven o'clock in the morning.
"Tom!" the voice shouted again. I couldn't ignore it so I placed a big smile on my lips and turned around slowly.
"Good morning," I said, inspecting the person standing now in front of me. It was a guy no more than twenty-five years old I'd guess. He had to look up to me, I was about one head above him. He had short black hair and grey eyes. His body was wrapped in a big light grey coat that actually hid most parts of him.
"Go..good morning, Tom" he stuttered at me.
"I.. I am a big fan of yours," he said.
Normally I could walk through the streets without being recognized. There were not many people who were interested in PR management but in my opinion, they were enough.
"I am really honored. What is your name? Do you want to take a photo with me?" I asked with the intention to shorten out our little meeting. I figured taking a photo was what a famous person would do.
He looked at me for a second the eyes a little bit widened.
"S..sure... I am.. My name is Mark" he nodded profusely and tried to bring his smartphone out of his coat pocket.
After we had made the photo he didn't want anything else, so we parted and I was able to continue my way home. Five minutes later, I had passed some other blocks and arrived at an area a little bit more out of the crowded and smelly Downtown. I walked past a little park and finally arrived at my mansion. It was quite a big property framed by a white fence and a hedge that has been trimmed into a long rectangular tube. The mansion itself consisted of, in most parts, black stone, some lighter parts at the windows and a white foundation that was located about one meter above the ground. To enter the building you had to pass the little backyard door, ascend the white stairs and reach the front main door. It was a big gate with two doors that connected to one. The doorframe was carefully crafted with lots of ornaments on it and the window frames were made of the same material, crafted with the same accuracy and care.
I loved this mansion. Many years ago it has belonged to the grandfather of my uncle, after his tragic death in world war II the villa was passed over to my uncle. He wasn't able to take any care of it, so he decided to sell it to me. The knowledge that I was searching for a place to stay in New York and the fact that I had made him a not refusable offer had simplified his choice to hand me the mansion.
So this building was kind of family legacy and I was very proud that I was allowed to live in it.
After I had taken a quick look at the postbox and grabbed the matter of it while passing the backyard door I finally entered the safety of my home.
Arrived inside I left the keys on a little table near the door and started wandering around the house. While carelessly throwing away my coat on a couch I focused on the matter of the postbox. Some advertise, some business and one really expensive looking one. The envelope consisted of thick light blue colored paper. I turned it around, curious for who had sent me such a letter. And when my gaze focused on the sender I had to swallow hardly. This can't be true! Somebody has to be kidding me!
I pinched my eyelids but when I opened them again slightly the result hadn't changed. The letter that had reached me on this sunny morning was coming straight from the president himself. But something confused me. Did we have another election that I had missed? I thought our president had been Barack Obama?
But the name that was written in dark blue curved letters wasn't Barack Obama. It was Loki of Asgard.