Masquerade, A Tom Hiddleston Story

Part 2 'Strong reasons, make strong actions'

Toronto

I need coffee. Today will make more sense after coffee. This middle bit of shooting is always an uphill climb. Beginnings are easy for me. Learning new lines keeps my brain sharp. Getting into the skin of a character, figuring out their motivations and what ticks them is the best part of the beginning.

Endings are sad. Saying goodbye to a character whom I've tried my best to bring to life and saying goodbye to him is always a heartbreaking process. That's why I enjoy playing Loki again and again. It's like meeting up with an old friend.

The middle bit. Well it's my Achilles's heel. My weakness. I've learnt my lines, I kinda know this person living and breathing though me... It's annoying that human nature sometimes urges me to be content. To not challenge myself more. Not to slice another layer of this character. And then beating myself up for even thinking of playing safe. Maintaining the feeling of always wanting more and living on the edge...is well... exhausting at times.

Especially in the early mornings. It's 4 am and yet it feels like it's 2 am. My head hurts. My eyes salty and blurry. Where is that coffee...

"Here ya go Tom... Double espresso... Drink slowly..." Harry warned me.

"Oh shut it" I retort. Taking two generous gulps of the heavenly stuff. The burning of my tongue hardly registering.

"Make up is here" Harry dutifully opened the trailer door.

I dragged myself off the leather couch and forced myself to stay upright on the make up chair. Hester, the old lady who is assigned to make my face presentable to the world chuckled.

"Rough night?"

"Yeah couldn't sleep..."

"Well just rest your eyes love... " Hester pats my head motherly.

Today the trailer looks colder and gloomier than most days. With it's brown leather sofas and bleak milky walls it's hardly a party bus. At least it's warm.

I can feel myself drifting off to a dream of the tropics when a knock on the trailer door brought me back.

"Shit!... Sorry Hest for the language...I'm just not myself" I apologized. My mother always said to always mind my tongue in front of nice old ladies. Hester smile made me confident that she was not offended.

"Come in..." I muttered. Harry must have gone out without me knowing. If not he would have answered for me.

The door swing open revealing a mop of blond hair on top of a very tall and tired looking lady.

Her skin paler than usual. The shirt underneath her leather jacket rumpled and her tights are colored by what looks like loose white thread. Her green eyes bloodshot and her lips crackled.

It's amazing how even though I notice details of her imperfections this morning, my heart still beats a bit faster and I can feel the warm hint of blush filling my cheeks.

"Hi Mr. Hiddleston... Sorry to bother you... But I need you to try this shirt for me." Her voice sounded like she got little to no sleep.

"Yeah Kate come in... Sure..." My own voice was no better. Somehow it sounded as though I'm mimicking a bird. Squeak squeak.

She hoisted the costume bag and hung them on the railing of the trailer.

"Good morning Hester..." She said absentmindedly as she struggled to get the aforementioned shirt out from the zipped bag.

"Morning Kate... Now now take it easy don't work too hard, you are as pale as these walls" Hester said with concern.

"Is everything alright" I blurted out. And then bit my tongue afterwards. Why does everything I say to her sounds either squeaky or squeakier.