Homeward Bound ✦ T. Holland

chapter twenty-three: queasy

We headed back to where we filming, and I felt safer knowing I was close to those who could protect me. Tom became more overprotective than ever, this week since we've gotten back.

In fact, I'd almost forgotten about the letter at times. Almost.

All was normal while I filmed a stunt jumping scene with Daya. Seriously, Jacob had just gotten us Starbucks, and we were doing great.

"Alright, 10 minute break, come back with your scene 16 outfits on!" The producer yelled.

I nodded and high fives Zendaya as I jogged off the set towards my trailer. I got in and locked the door, a habit I'd adopted this last week. I changed into my outfit, hearing a knock on the door.

"Just a second!" I yelled. Screw Miley for wearing layered outfits that take forever to get on.
I finally finished up and fixed my hair in the middle before opening the door.

"What's u-" I began, but stopped when no one was there.

I looked around, and there I saw it. An envelope, clean and crisp, laid on the ground. Sealed to perfected, not a scratch on it. My heart skipped a beat.

Maybe it's a lovely gesture of Tom's. I hoped it was, at least. I picked it up, carefully opening it. It was the same exact format as the dreaded letter I had read last week.

Nice to see you again, Wilson. Well, it's funny, because I can see you, but you can't see me! You did great filming this week. I can see it in your eyes. The fear, trying to forget about that old letter. I would let you forget, except you're not done with my game.
My game is simple, really. Three rules.
1. Never leave a task incomplete.
2. Never tell the authorities.
3. Never fight back.
If you can complete all 5 tasks without breaking these rules, you win. I'll reveal myself to the police, and all will be calm. But if you fail, well, let's just say the results will involve someone you love, and a gun. Don't fret, deary. There's always a second option in this game.
If you can figure out who I am, by yourself, with no help, by task #5, you'll win automatically. No penalties if you don't, you'll just be required to complete the tasks to win at that point.
Go ahead and show Tom this letter, or Zendaya, but I'll go ahead and tell you. If I found out you told anyone about this, you die. By the way, I'll find out. I'll cover it up, too, by sending Tom a suicide letter. Well, a fake one, that is.

Sincerely, truly, adoringly,
the talented actor, James McAvoy
(P.S., good luck, Wilson)

I've never felt more scared than I did while reading that. I dropped the letter, running into my trailer and puking into my cooler. Thank God it was empty.

I was literally so scared I puked. That had never happened before.

Hell, whoever this was probably watching me right now, which creeped me out even more. What creeped me out the most is that I would have to do all of this alone. No protection from Tom, no advice from Zendaya, nothing.

Who in their right mind would do something so fucked up?! I mean, I'm talking about murder here!

I reread it before realizing I had to go film. I changed outfits and fixed my makeup, again, and headed to set. My mind was going 1000 mph, and I couldn't do anything to catch up with it.

Tom stopped me, holding onto my arm, "You okay babe? Look a little queasy."

"I'm just on my period, thanks though," I lied, knowing the excuse would stop any further questions. I was wrong, though.

"You were on your period two weeks ago, what's going on?" He stood in front of me, crossing his arms. Screw him for being so intimidating when he's angry or concerned.

I tried to come up with an excuse, but the director saved me.

"Bella, we need you now!" I kissed Tom's cheek and ran off.

He stayed where he was but yelled out, "We aren't done with that conversation!"

Well, Tom, if we carry it on, I'm dying. So if you want a girlfriend, I recommend chilling the hell out.
I told myself.

I did the scene as best as I could, going straight to my trailer after. I knew the tears would come later, so I figured I should get a head start on figuring out who the hell this is.

The only two hints I have were the way he signed.

First he signed as the 5th President of the United States, then he signed as James McAvoy.

I looked up who the 5th president even is; James Monroe.

James Monroe and James McAvoy. J & M!

Whatever creep-o this is has the initials J and M, I think. I hope. That's what I'm going by, at least. I don't know anybody, and I mean anybody with those initials.

Jesus, this is all so fucked up. I was done filming, so instead of waiting for Tom to finish up and going home with him like I usually do, I said I was sick and went home.

Then I cried for about one hour. Then I faded off into a deep, deep slumber.

UNEDITED!!
and so the plot thickens! pretty fucked up, huh?
kinda vibin wit it doe😳🤭

love u little detectives!

(also, i realized that one y'all may have a theory that the J and M is MJ and that the bad guy is Zendaya. It ain't, but good thinking!)