Forever and ever 2. The adventure starts now.

Part 95.

Tom's pov~

I had contemplated going to the bar with Harrison, but since I abstained from drinking, it seemed that Harrison wouldn't mind refraining either, even if he wasn't willing to admit it himself. Besides, I didn't want to exclude Parker from my view. So, we decided to meet up at his place the next evening—a refined apartment nestled in the heart of the city. I believe Parker enjoyed himself, judging by the way he eagerly played Super Mario on Harrison's video game console. That was the only cool thing about the apartment unless you were an art enthusiast. Magnificent paintings adorned the walls, each seemingly more unattractive than the last, likely inflated in value the more repulsive they appeared. The apartment wasn't exactly small, but neither was it grand, adorned with white marble and wine bottles cleverly tucked away in every corner. Since the breakup with Zendaya, I knew he wasn't doing particularly well, but nothing was ever officially confirmed. Harrison still clung so tightly to her that he occasionally dialed her number after indulging in a sip or two too many of his precious Scotch.
"You're a fucking psychopath, man." I chuckled. He had just shared the story of how he occasionally sat in the café where they used to have breakfast, hoping she would show up. It was cheesy, but he needed to let go. I was certain she had, especially after Jacob had taken care of her. Fuck, I despised that man.

"Just hopeful. That's it."
"More like hopeless."
"Oh, screw off!" He tossed a napkin at me, barely floating three inches before landing closer to him than me. "How are things with Y/N? Have you managed to mess it up already?" I knew he was hoping for bad news, the devil in his blue eyes making it easy for me to read him.
"You wish. Get off your high horse, man. Things are going pretty well between us." I responded, leaving out the small five-letter name that made falling asleep a nightmare.

"Yeah, you're fucking lying lil bro. You think I don't know you well enough to recognize that the twitch of your lip means the complete opposite?" He had caught me there, but who was I to keep that tiny detail to myself. It wasn't an elephant I was hiding.

"Seriously, things are actually going pretty well between us. It's just this... Clark? On her set..." I explained, making it sound like a question, uncertain if his name was Clark or some other name I didn't bother remembering. "I don't know, I feel like he's getting closer to her than he should be, but of course, Y/N doesn't admit to anything." How could she even dare to utter a single bad word about her sweetheart?
I loved Y/N with every cell and every fiber of my being, but Clark was starting to get in my way.
"Shit, are you being serious?" His eyebrows rose, not believing his best friend would ever be insecure about himself. Yet here I sat, on the verge of punching Harrison if he were about to make a joke about me now. "Do you have a picture of him?" I nodded and pulled out my phone. I believed there were three pictures Y/N had sent me of him so far. Not that I counted... or maybe I did.

One was from the set where he stood at the edge of the frame wearing a cap covering half his face, and holding a Starbucks coffee tray. He was barely recognizable, so I scrolled to the second picture. She wanted to show me a selfie with... what was her name again? Some redhead woman was definitely standing beside her, with Clark in the background between the two, bouncing a tennis ball on the ground.

Finally, the third picture, where he was most visible. She had sent it to me just last week while they were watching another baseball game with friends.
Clark sat at the edge, right next to Y/N, followed by the other three people. I vaguely recognized Wayne, but the redhead girl and the guy with gray hair and blue eyes were strangers to me. I recalled Y/N calling him "Reez" once, which was the name of her director. So I assumed they brought him along.

I showed my best mate the picture, zoomed in on Y/N and Clark. Harrison examined it for the following 10 seconds, his facial expression hard to decipher this time. I wasn't sure if he wanted to see the picture of him to assess his strength if push came to shove, or to gauge how significant the threat really was to me. But judging by his nodding and the heavy exhale from his mouth, I began to sweat under my grip on the phone. Even he seemed to perceive him as a threat.
"Well shit brother. I might be bigger than him, but you're not." I should have at least given him a slap on the back of his head for that.
Clenched my jaw so tightly instead, a metallic taste almost sprayed through my mouth.

"Maybe not in height, but in length, I can keep up." I smirked. Harrison grimaced at my innuendo. It seemed like only I felt even a percent better from the remark. But that percentage quickly faded when I realized how serious the situation was, especially when even Harrison agreed with my concerns.

"What do you think I should do?"

"No idea. If I were you, I'd drown three scotches and hope that when I throw up, my brain comes out too. No brain, no worries!" I won't lie, sitting there with just two glasses of coke in front of us, wasn't funny to throw. I was up for having at least something throwable on the table next time.

"I wish I could proudly say I haven't tried that yet." But I had, which was why Harry had to watch over me. And being fed by one's little brother was something I didn't want to experience a second time.
"Yeah..." Harrison sighed. "But it's actually not that important, not like you even have a brain to vomit out." He couldn't have made a worse joke, it was so bad that I almost burst out laughing. I shot him a serious look that eventually turned into a fit of laughter as he lost it completely. Caught even Parkers attention. It seemed like he had grown bored of the console as he climbed onto my lap five minutes later, nestling his head against my chest. We had been here for a while now, and Parker was on the verge of falling asleep, his eyes blinking only drowsily.

"I think it's time we head out. Y/N will kill me if she finds out he wasn't in bed by 8 for the past few days." But to be fair, I hadn't seen him in a while and didn't want him to hate me again by forcing him to bed at 8 right away.
"Yeah, sure." He was kind enough to put our glasses in the sink before escorting me to the door. "Do you think we'll see each other again in the next few days?" he asked as we stoped by the wooden door.
"Absolutely. At the very least, when Y/N calls for a friends' gathering," I said, confident it would happen and that Harrison would also be there.

We said our goodbyes, and I carried Parker to the car. The streets were still bustling with life, but as we neared our apartment, it became quiet and peaceful, which I loved after a long day of grocery shopping and playing with my son.

I successfully got Parker to bed and spent the evening sitting on the sofa, casually browsing the internet. I decided to look up Clark's name, thinking I was quite savvy after learning not to stalk his social media account—especially after he hinted that he could see it, somehow. Lately, paparazzi photos popped up when I searched his name. And they weren't just any pictures; they were of him, with Y/N by his side. Only four results, two of them the same image, uploaded and captioned by some press. The headlines were nothing short of fake news: 'Y/N Holland Cheating on Her Husband' and 'Actress Y/N Y/L/N Holland Finds a New Lover.' They were innocent images, but they kept haunting me, keeping me boxing until 3 a.m. in the basement.

Realizing how effective boxing was in relieving my pent-up aggression back in Cape Town, I decided to set up a boxing space at home while I was still shooting. It seemed like a great way to manage stress and stay balanced amidst all the chaos, so I didn't regret having strangers here while I was gone. I don't even think they knew whom they were doing their job for.
Another quick shower and I was in bed. 4:30 am.

Soft footsteps echoed outside my door—so delicate, it could only be Parker. He stood in the doorway, tears welling up in his eyes, clutching a stuffed animal.

"I had a bad dream," he told me, breaking into tears, refusing to move until I granted him permission to come in.

"Come here," I urged immediately, lifting the edge of the blanket until he crawled into bed beside me. "What did you dream about, buddy? Hmm?" I comforted him with gentle strokes on his back, noticing it was helping him calm down.

"There was a monster, and it attacked Mommy. And I—" another sob. "I wanted to help her, but I was so scared," he explained, trembling with the memories under my touch.

It shattered my heart, realizing I wasn't the only one haunted by nightmares. They were something dreadful I wished upon no one else, and now Parker had experienced one too.

"It's okay. Mommy is okay," I reassured him, knowing it as a fact, feeling it. Just one more night, and we'd be able to hold her close. My four-year-old son wiped away a tear, nodding, then flung himself into my arms, inhaling my scent, finding solace in it.

"I love you," I whispered in his ear, and he mumbled back, "Love you too." Before we both fell asleep.

~Happy new year already~