What If

Chapter 1 - A New Beginning

Thomas' P.O.V.
I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck as I walked along the streets of London. It was mid-October, and it had been the coldest autumn on record this year. Every day was colder than the next, and today was no exception. A sharp breeze whipped at my hair, and caused the golden leaves on the pathway to spiral into the air around my feet. Some even got as high up as my face, and a couple of times I had to brush them away from my eyes. Dark grey clouds rolled across the sky, constantly threatening to pour down tonnes and tonnes of rain, and there were still hints of frost on the windows of passing cars. Groaning, I dug my hands deeper into my pockets and breathed out deeply. This was not my day.

I'd only recently moved out of my parents' house, where I lived with my parents and sister for just over 23 years, and I had bought a flat near the centre of London. I've only been living there for about a month now, and I'm already struggling. For starters, I'm not really someone who likes their own company for too long. I like being with others, and spending time with friends and family, so living on my own has definitely proven to be a challenge. The next issue I had was paying the mortgage. How the bank had even allowed me to get a mortgage in the first place I don't know, because I'm only a photographer, and my income isn't great. During the first month, once I'd paid for bills, the mortgage, motorbike insurance and furniture, I had hardly enough left for the necessities! I've managed to get by so far, but it's only going to get harder, and I don't know if I'll cope.

Sighing, I turned left and headed towards the entrance to my work. For the last two years, I've been working as a photographer, for a small newspaper company, but just last week I was transferred to a much larger newspaper company, The Daily Eagle. Today was my first day, and so far, I wasn't in the best mood. But putting on a brave face, I stepped into the revolving doors and into the main reception.

"Hi, I'm Thomas Sangster, here for the photographer's position." I told the lady at the receptionist's desk. Smiling, she handed me a badge with my name on it.

"Welcome on board, Thomas! My name's Rebecca, but everyone calls me Becky!" She said, shaking my hand, "Now all you need to do is go up to floor five, and ask for Mr Brown. He'll show you to your desk and answer any questions that you have!"

Thanking Becky, I walked into the lift and went up to the fifth floor. Just as the doors opened and I stepped out, a man with dark hair passed me.

"Excuse me? Sorry, but you wouldn't happen to know where Mr Brown is would you?" I asked the guy. He grinned at me.

"You're looking right at him! How may I help you?" He chuckled, shaking my hand.

"I'm Thomas Sangster. I'm here for the photographer position."

"Ah, Thomas! Yes, I remember now. My name's George. Well if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your desk." He gestured for me to follow him, as he began walking down the long corridor. Passing through two large glass doors, we came into a very large room, with two rows of desks lined up against both walls. Every desk was pressed against another, so that there were two people working opposite each other, and each one had a computer. There was a low notice board in between the desks, so that you had a little cubicle kind of area around your desk. The sound of typing and scribbling down notes filled my ears as I followed George past the desks and towards the back of the room.

"Here you are Thomas!" George grinned, stopping next to an empty desk, "You'll be working here from now on. You're lucky enough to be working opposite the most experienced journalist we have here. Okay, well make yourself at home, and check your emails for your first assignments! Good luck mate!" And with that, he was gone. I stood there, slightly stunned for a moment. Well that was a lot of information to take in at once.

"You alright there?" Someone said behind me, making me jump. I turned around to see a girl, slightly shorter than me, with dark brown hair plaited down her side, and freckles. She had striking green eyes, and she wore a pair of black geeky glasses.

"Err yeah, sorry." I stuttered, stepping inside my desk area. Nodding, the girl walked past me and sat at the desk opposite me. She unpacked her satchel that she had had slung over her shoulder, and began typing away furiously at the computer. Following suit, I took a seat, and logged on to my computer. I opened my emails, and began flicking through the assignments that I had been set, glancing up every now and then. All I could see of the girl over the notice board, were her eyes, that darted back and forth as she worked. They sparkled in the sunlight from the window beside us, and they looked almost wild, as if there were something kind of elvish about them. Averting my gaze, I began flicking through files and photographs that I had previously taken. The pair of us worked silently for hours, until it came to lunch, when she left her desk with her coat and satchel. Who was she?

Leaving my work at my desk, I headed to the staff room to grab a coffee. I stood there for about five minutes, fiddling about with the machine, trying to work out how to use it. No matter what button I pressed, nothing happened. I continued to press every possible button on the machine, but it did nothing.

"Mate, you need to plug it in!" Someone chuckled behind me. Turning around, I saw a guy probably the same age as me, with dark hair. He was grinning at me and pointing to the wall. Following his finger, I realised that the bloody machine hadn't even been plugged in.

"Ah, thanks! That would help!" I laughed, plugging in the machine. It revved to life, and all the buttons began flashing at once. I stepped back a little, as it began whirring and whizzing.

"Ur, what's it doing?" I asked the guy stood next to me. He shook his head.

"I don't know! Maybe it's catching up with all the orders you probably just placed!" As if his words had caused it, the machine began spewing coffee everywhere. I held my hands up to my face, as coffee flew all over the two of us.

"Ahhhh, make it stop!" The guy next to me yelled over the noise. Frantically, I looked over all the flashing buttons and found one that read 'Cancel Order'. Praying that it would work, I pressed it, and the machine stopped. Everything went silent. Me and the other guy stood there, dripping wet with coffee all over our shirts and blazers. I looked up from the machine, and on cue, the pair of us burst into laughter.

"Oh my God! You should have seen the look on your face!" The guy laughed at me, grabbing a handful of paper towels, "I'm Dylan by the way. Dylan O'Brien."

"I'm Thomas. Thomas Brodie-Sangster!" I smiled, shaking his hand before taking some paper towels from him and mopping up the mess. Thank God we were the only ones in here.

"Thomas Brodie-Sangster? Bloody hell that's a mouthful! Might just call you TBS for short!" He laughed.

"Sounds like the name of a disease or something!" I chuckled, throwing away the wet towels and collecting more.

"So how's your first day going, Tommy?" Dylan grinned, as we sat down at one of the tables with our coffee, finally inside the cups!

"Eh, it's okay! Lots of work!" I groaned, sipping at my drink. Just as I said it, the girl from earlier walked past us.

"Hey, who's that?" I asked Dylan, nodding in the direction of the girl. Dylan looked and then scoffed.

"What you mean her? That's Taylor Brooks. Don't go after her mate! You'll be lucky she doesn't bite your head off!" He laughed, shaking his head, "She's a hard worker, and a brilliant writer I'll give her that, but she's a very mysterious character. Hardly talks to anyone, except for when she has to! Right then, well I'm off to get some more work done! Nice meeting ya, Tommy!"

"Yeah you too Dylan!" I waved as he left. I then returned my gaze to the girl, who was now sat at her desk. Taylor Brooks.