✁𝙏𝙤𝙢 𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨

𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

ｗｏｒｄｃｏｕｎｔ: ５,６ｋ

"I can't do this anymore." You grumbled angrily upon seeing the new work schedules. Your schedule got worse and worse with every week and your boss couldn't care less. He had you and the other assistants working endless hours while he sat around and did nothing in his office all day. It was June now, and you weren't going to let your job ruin your entire summer.

Being a set assistant sounded incredible when you first got the job in April. A movie was being filmed in a Hollywood lot and you and six other interns had to work as assistants to the stars. You weren't allowed to interact with the actors, aside from getting them what they asked for or getting them from their trailers, but just being around them was enough to make your heart pound.

You had to follow strict rules when with the actors. No speaking unless spoken to, no eye contact, no personal information, and no touching of any kind. You weren't even allowed to tell them your name. Your boss was hellbent on you not annoying the talent, hence the stringent rules. You followed the rules day in and day out, until you'd had enough. Your boss became more and more of a tyrant every day. He had you working overtime constantly with no extra pay, and treated you like you were subhuman. The new schedules were the nail in the coffin. You marched towards his office with intent to quit, your anger clouding your vision so much that you didn't see the man walking in your direction.

"Excuse me, darling, could you help me find the fitting room?" The man asked you in a British accent.

A British accent cute enough to momentarily stun a young girl.

You stopped in your tracks, your anger momentarily subsiding. You recognized the man as actor Tom Holland, having completely forgotten he was meant to start filming that day. You put on a happy face and nodded.

"Right this way, Mr. Holland." You said in your sweetest voice, the one you had to use when addressing the actors. He smiled at you and followed where you walked.

"Thank you. And you can call me Tom." Tom said as he fell into an easy stride beside you. Most stars just silently followed you to where you lead them. Tom was actually making an effort to talk to you, which was against every one of your bosses rules.

"Actually, I can't." You laughed, also against the rules. "We're not allowed to call stars by their first names."

"Really?" Tom asked curiously. "That's a dumb rule." He's always hated being treated differently. He still saw himself as a regular guys who's dreams came true. It was absurd to him that you had to follow such ridiculous rules.

"You could say that about every rule I have to follow. We're also not allowed to have life, liberty, or the pursuit of happiness." You said sarcastically with a sigh. You weren't supposed to say things like that, or say anything at all to the actors, for that matter. But you were quitting anyways so it didn't really matter to you. Your boss could suck it. Still, you didn't want to leave Tom with a bad impression of you. "I'm sorry. That was unprofessional of me to say."

"It's fine." Tom laughed lightly, making your tummy do a flip flop. He was definitely utter in person, to say the least. "I'm not from America, so I'm not entitled to that either." He joked.

"Well here, you're entitled to anything you want. My boss makes sure of it. I would legally have to give you my kidney if you asked for it." You continued. Hey, it was your last day. Might as well make Tom Holland laugh.

"I won't ask for it, don't worry." Tom chuckled again, making you laugh as well, which you quickly stopped. Tom gave you a strange look when he noticed your sudden indifference.