Tom Holland Imagines

On My Own

A/N: This was requested by the lovely @GalaxyRose2871! I absolutely adore this idea and the other requests I'm working on are a bit harder to tame, so I went straight for the favorite!

"I have one that I can never seem to get right. It's quite weird but have you heard of the musical Les Miserables? I was thinking that Tom and the reader could be characters in a stage production of the musical(either Marius and Cossette, Marius and Eponine or Thenardier and Madame Thenardier. I like them all!) I was thinking they could be dating in it aswell. I apologise if it's a weird request and don't hesitate to let me know if you can't do it. Many thanks."

This is my very last imagine before I have to return to my studies next week! I'll attempt to keep up my schedule as long as I am able.

It was the closing night of Les Miserables on West End, which meant it was the last night I'd ever get to see Tom, presumably. Of course we were friends, but we were production friends. And in our line of work, those kinds of ties disappear in a year or so. Especially when Tom had so many girls in the cast fawning over him every moment of rehearsal, backstage preparations, and performances.

Of course, I was one of them, but I'd never said a word to anyone. I never stood a chance anyway, so what did it matter? It was quite fitting that I was the Eponine to his Marius. I had loved him the moment we'd first spoken. He was the most gentle and talented person I'd ever encountered. A lot of the girls were jealous of how close we'd grown. But I couldn't help but think our relationship would be as fleeting as anyone else in the theatre I'd ever known.

I dreaded the end of the night and the close of the curtain, but I readied myself anyway, smudging "dirt" beneath my eyes and over my lips. It's nearly over. This is it.

As the production progressed, I watched Tom from the monitor in the dressing room...the one that depicted the current scene. I watched him do what he did best of all...act. I watched Marius fall head-over-heels in love with Cosette, visually so infatuated with her it physically hurt me. He'd never make those eyes at me, never sing of me or speak of me, for that matter, with so much passion and adoration. Stupid as it was, I was brokenhearted.

TIME SKIP: Brought to you by the blisters on Ringo's fingers at the end of Helter Skelter

I glided out onto the stage for my last performance as Eponine. The orchestra struck up"On My Own" and I took a deep breath. I'd never get used to thousands of faces trained on me. It always made me question my acting. Only this time, as I began to sing, I realised I wasn't acting at all. I was telling the truth.

"I love him, but when the night is over, he is gone. The river's just a river. Without him, the world around me changes. The trees are bare and everywhere, the streets are full of strangers."

I continued on, but as I hit the climax of the song, it began to feel less like a song and more like a confession. A confession to the audience and to myself...the words I'd never allowed myself to say.

"I love him, but every day I'm learning. All my life, I've only been pretending. Without me, his world will go on turning. A world that's full of happiness that I have never known."

Suddenly, tears sprang to my eyes. I had never thought to cry in the scene...it had never been scripted and the director had never brought the idea to mind. But here I was, on my last night as Eponine...on my last night with Tom...and I couldn't help the steady stream of water that leaked from my eyes. It made tracks in the makeup I'd used as dirt.

"I love him. I love him. But only on my own."

The crowd erupted...the reaction the most I'd ever received. But I was too heartbroken to be proud of what I'd done. As the lights dimmed, I rushed offstage in tears.

After the show, my mood hadn't improved. I was backstage, removing the makeup from my face. I had removed my costume and dressed in my own sweatpants and zippy jacket.

"Hey!" Someone said from behind me. "Great job tonight! The crowd loved you." I turned around to face Tom, the ache in my heart growing steadily more painful.

"Thanks," I responded with as real a smile as I could muster. "You too." He looked beautiful, even just in a pullover hoodie with curls messy from the wig he'd been wearing. I zipped my cosmetics bag closed and we began to walk out of the theater together.

"No, seriously, Y/N, I think that's the best you've ever done 'On My Own,' honestly. The tears were a nice touch. It all looked so effortless." Tom really did look proud of you as the pair of you exited the theater through the back door and ended up in the street.

"Ah. Well, effortless is easy when you aren't acting," I chuckled under my breath.

"What?" Tom stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to look at me. He pulled me over to the side to get out of the way of passersby. We sat on a cement planter box.

"I wasn't acting, Tom. I do love you. Hell, I love everything about you. How passionate you are about what you do, how kind you are to all of those ridiculous women even though they bother the pants off you...just everything. But I know how these things go. Once the production's over, friendships die and it's even more foolish to hope something more could've been."

"Oh, Y/N...I don't know what to say." Tom thought a moment before he responded. "You know, when I would sing about Cozette or talk to her, I just pretended she was you. You're right. Effortless is easy when you're not acting. So I just quit acting. I was reading for you. Everything about you amazes me. Everything. And I love you too. More than I ever thought was possible."

I threw my arms around his neck. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me," I managed thickly.

"It's true," Tom replied into my hair. When we pulled away, he looked at me and gently blushed. "So...what do you say? Do you want to change the ending?"

"Together?"

"Of course."