Welcome To The Media (Dylmas AU)

25. Fucked Up Fairytale

A/N

THE PICTURE ATTACHED HAS LITERALLY NOTHING TO DO WITH THE CHAPTER BUT CAN WE JUST APPRECIATE HIS LITTLE FACE FOR A MOMENT THANKS

Thomas's pov

37 days remaining

Fear.

When I was younger I used to venture out in the rain, my hands outstretched towards the cloudy sky. I would stand there as it drizzled, watching as each raindrop fell from above in a slow, dizzying pattern. Then, as the rain began to pick up, as it almost inevitably did, I'd drop my hands and allow the rain to pelt my skin, to soak me, to wash me clean. It was a strange, calming sense of peace.

And then, with my head bowed towards the ground and my hands limp at my sides, I'd see a flash of light and a crash of thunder. I would jump, staring around blindly for the sound that made my eardrums ring, feeling as my tranquil moment was abruptly snatched away. Another flash, brighter and more distinct, would dazzle my eyes, and with a fleeting feeling of panic, I'd race back towards the comfort of my home. My heart pounded as the lightning storm continued to rage around me, and this, I would mistakenly call fear.

But looking back, I know it wasn't fear. I was afraid, I was scared, but I wasn't fearful. Fear wasn't standing outside while it stormed around you; fear was the numbing sensation of being struck by lightning.

As I stared at my caller I.D., my mouth dry and my hands trembling, I felt for the first time real, genuine fear.

It dripped into my system slowly, like the drizzle I used to stand in. I felt the shock perforate my system, cold and bitter, but not numbing enough to prevent me from muttering an excuse to my friends and to escape from the room on shaky legs.

Once I stood outside, the party and my friends already drifting far from my mind, I felt the second wave of shock, like the drizzle had morphed into a downpour. My stomach churned angrily, and my fingers rose to hover over the 'answer call' button again. Hovering, but not answering.

I turned a corner and slid through an open doorway into a room that was deathly quiet. Taking a deep breath, I perched myself near an open window, glancing around almost subconsciously to assure myself that I was alone. My phone still buzzed in my hand, so while licking my dry lips, I answered the call.

And when I heard Reggie's voice reverberate through the phone line, that's when I finally felt that blinding, excruciating lightning bolt of fear.

"Hello, Thomas," he echoed through the line. I knew it had been him calling, but hearing his voice only seemed to heighten my terror. My hand shot out to clench on the white windowsill in front of me.

I couldn't speak. I tried, but the only sound that came out was a weak sort of whimper. I don't know why I felt so afraid, but my entire body buzzed with an apprehensive, tense feeling.

He continued without my response. "I was wondering if you were available for an interview right now?"

I wet my lips again, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth. I wiped a hand across my forehead, almost tiredly, and said in a forced calm tone, "Uh--I...I don't know if now is a good time."

"You agree with me? Perfect, let's get started," Reggie growled, as if I hadn't spoken at all. This time I restrained the urge to whimper; the less weakness he saw in me, the better.

"So," he said conversationally, "What's your progress with O'Brien so far?"

Grimacing, I pressed the phone tighter to my ear. "We're fine."

"Just fine? Sangster, if you don't give me more than two word answers than neither of us are going to end up happy, ya hear?" I closed my eyes when I heard how aggravated he sounded. If anything, it only made me feel worse.