Darling (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

2: her name, a small town, a sister with conviction

2 Weeks Earlier

I’m not sure what time it is.  Last time I checked, it was 2 am and that was before there was a fight on the front lawn, a dozen naked people in the pool and a conga line around the main level of the house.  Time is a blur.  I do know that my house is packed and there’s no point in trying to kick people out.  Every room seems full.  Some people are passed out, and immobile, others are still partying like they’ve just started.  They’re all celebrating.  Celebrating what? I’m not really sure.  But who am I to break up a good time? Even if it is my own house, and all I want is some goddamn peace and quiet.

I walk through the kitchen, sneering as I see every inch of the granite countertops covered in some sort of trash.  Bottles.  Cups.  Food and spills of who knows what.  Some half dressed woman is lying on the island while a guy takes a shot of something ice blue out of her cleavage.  They stand up, inebriated, shouting at each other like they are fighting.  I’m surprised to see them collide together a second later in what can only be described as a rather violent kiss. I roll my eyes and grab a half full bottle of vodka off the counter before walking past them.  I think the woman’s name is Veronica. Or Monique.  Honestly, I don’t know.  I don’t even know half the people here.

I leave the kitchen, bottle in hand and make my way through the main living area.  The high ceilings aren’t much of a noise buffer, and loud music vibrates through the heart of the house.  The halls act as arteries, pumping sound to the other rooms. There’s no escaping it. It might be one of my songs, but it’s been mixed with something else, so I’m not sure.  I don’t really care.  I never envisioned my songs being blasted through house speakers, mixed to the point of being unrecognizable.  It’s clips of my voice with some sort of drum and bass.  It’s not bad, but I’m sure it would sound better if I were currently more drunk or on drugs.

“Baby!! Baby!” Someone shouts her name, my name, and I turn my head though I don’t recognize the voice or the face it’s coming from.

“Hm?” I murmur, lifting the vodka bottle to my lips.  I take a sloppy swig from the bottle, not caring how I look.  The vodka tastes like nothing, but I wince when it burns slightly as it goes down my throat into my empty stomach.  Shorty said I needed to lose 5 lbs for the Video Music Awards performance, and so it’s been all clear liquids and lean protein for quite a few days.  Last night I had a dream about a chocolate bar.  It was talking to me and crying, and it smelled amazing.  And I felt so bad for it, but I was still certain I was going to eat it. Pretty trippy stuff.

“Hey Baby! Goddamn, your parties are always amazing.” My party.  As if I had anything to do with this circus.  The guy standing in front of me has bleached blond tips, and I think his entire outfit is made from acid washed jeans.  I blink. Have I stepped back into the early 2000’s?  Am I time traveling now? He’s staring at me, waiting for me to reply.

“Thanks?” I blink.  I can’t say it’s really a compliment.

“You are fucking sexy.” He looks at me, his eyes wild and intense.  He’s either high or drunk, or both. “Baby, I’ve seen your video, girl.  Let me join you next time—“

I push past him, groaning loudly as I do.  He’s drunk enough that he stumbles back as I walk away.

“Gross.” I shake my head and turn away from him.  I hear him yell something at me, to the back of my head, and I keep walking.  I feel my skin crawl knowing that people like him exist.  And are in my house.

I get offers like that often.  At least a few times a day to my face.  And probably a few hundred times a day on the internet, not that I’ve checked lately.  They talk about me like I’m not a person.  Like I’m just a face and a collection of parts.  There’s a dead look in their eye when they gaze at me, and then offer to ‘give me the ride of my life’.  On the internet, the comments are even worse than that, if that’s possible.  I stopped reading after some of them made me physically sick.