Outlaws // Taron Egerton

Ten

IDRIS

     I've honestly been exhausted these past few days with all these consecutive dates, make-believe, try-hard dramas, online and paparazzi harrassment. I need a break. Taron's been looking tired too and I just want us to take a week off from all these bullshit. I have never felt so tired to the point that I want to give up already.

     Taron and I exit Mia's office and he places his arm around me. I flick his arm off and he apologizes. I've been moody these past few weeks and I don't think hormonal changes had to do with it since I'm already done with deadly cramps and bed sheet stains since four days ago. I should be okay by now.

     Perhaps, I just don't like to be touched right now-and I'm saying this as Idris. Mia's plans have been nothing but shitty lately and I also haven't come up with anything good yet. If I do, she rejects it, and she threatens to fire me. All this when Taron isn't around to see it.

     We enter the elevator, and Taron leans to whisper. "Can I talk to you?"

     I'm staring at my bitchy-looking reflection on the closed metal doors. My arms are crossed. "What about?" I reply, my eyes still glued to the door.

     "What's wrong?"

     "Your publicist is absolutely shitty. Full offense. We need a break. Maybe a week or two," I state. "Even I'm very tired. And as I've said earlier, we need an interval or else they'll hint out that this is all PR."

     "I'm sorry."

     "Don't be. It's not your fault. Mia just won't hear me out and I'm tired," I say. Although, I do feel that there's something else and it makes me want to give up being a stunt puppet in general. I don't want to devastate Taron, though. If he's already feeling responsible for what I feel at the moment, what more if I tell him I want to quit?

     The elevator door opens and we are immediately met by the heat from the parking lot. "You'll be fine, yeah? You tell me when you don't feel okay doing this and we'll head back to the car in a snap."

     I nod. He draws me closer to him like he seem to forget what I did just a minute ago. But this time, since we're practically in public, I don't push him away. We walk towards the black van and he pulls the door sideways and gestures his hand for me to get in first so I do.

We finish our meal and I check my wristwatch. It reads 7:24pm. At exactly 7:30pm the paparazzi are going to appear and, thank goodness, the publicist made sure they're nice this time so I wouldn't have to throw a fit again. Only because my manager convinced her.

     But of course, Mia just had to put on a little bit of a twist, hence, the meeting earlier.

     Taron and I are strolling down the dimly lit sidewalk, not speaking to each other. He's just kisses my forehead or my cheeks from time to time especially when he thinks somebody's looking and recognizes him or me. I'm just eyeing the stores and its displays. I make faces occasionally as to 'judge' the clothing to appear bitchy.

     Familiar flashes of light chimes in. Taron is giving me the 'I'm-ready-to-create-a-scene' face as he raises his eyebrows.

     I drag him close in front of a jewelry store and I point at a ring that I like, wanting him to buy it for me.

     He begins acting. "Babe, I'm going broke. Please." He's just staring at me like he's pissed, waiting for me to whine or cry.

     I'm shaking my head. I don't want to create a scene. I can't do this anymore.

     I am fucking tired.

     "Are you okay?" He asks, sincerely concerned. I open my mouth but nothing comes out of it. I don't know what to say, but I just want to leave and discontinue this whole plan.

     And quit Margaux Ellis. I don't know why either. Maybe I'm just overthinking, but I've had enough.

     I push the paparazzi off my way and Taron follows me, and of course, so did the paparazzi, but he ignores them now.

     He grabs my arm and I don't fight it. I let him gently pull me close to him to a tight embrace.

     My tears start to flow from here. But I can't vent out. I can't reveal Idris Blythe. But with the looks of it, being open with Margaux's sensitivity makes me Idris because Margaux has a stone heart. She doesn't feel anything.

     I don't say anything, but I think Taron knows exactly what this means now. "Let's get you home," he says. "You need some rest. We'll do this some other time."

     I don't know how to feel about him expecting that I'd still want to do this when I'm less tired. I don't anymore. I give up.

     It was nice working with him.