The Fame Game || Tom Holland

epilogue: the oscars: round two

Post-Credits Scene: The Oscars: Round Two (Y)

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The atmosphere at Vanity Fair's Oscars after-party is electric.

The soft boom of the latest pop tunes seeps into the air, mixing with the warm lights and the sounds of clinking champagne flutes. The room holds Hollywood's best, and it seems no matter which direction you tilt your head, your eyes find themselves settling over a familiar face. You're walking amongst legends tonight, and with your hands grasped around two glistening trophies, you finally feel at home.

"Congratulations, Y/N. I'm so proud of you."

You're drawn away from your thoughts by the unmistakable voice of your friend Joe Keery. As you finally drag your eyes away from the golden Oscars in your hands, a smile splits across your face.

"Thanks, Joe," you say, flashing him a blinding smile. "I still can't believe it."

Joe chuckles, eyeing your awards with pride in his eyes. "Two, eh?" He leans closer to elbow you, chuckling when you glare at him. "Not too shabby for your first year nominated."

"Not too shabby at all."

It'd been crazy - every single second of it. From the moment the nominations were announced, and you'd seen your name listed not only in one category but in two, you've been a whirlwind of nerves, excitement, and pride. You don't think you've ever been as shocked as you'd felt when your name had been called out as the winner, not once, but twice tonight. Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress, the latter of which was won for a performance in the same film which had brought about the evening's Best Actor...

"And Tom?" Joe says, grinning. "Oscar-Winning couple, starring in a critically-acclaimed film together. Must feel pretty good, right?"

You chuckle, shaking your head as you look down at your golden trophies. "I can't believe it," you mutter. "I really just... Can't believe it."

You feel a presence behind you, and then there's the warm touch of a hand curling around your waist. You sink into it, tilting your head to the side, letting your eyes fall on Tom, your boyfriend. With a proud smile on his lips and his own golden award held in his free hand, he's almost glowing tonight.

"Evening, Joe," Tom greets. Finally comfortable at your side, he leans up and presses a quick kiss to your cheek. His deep cologne sweeps across you, and you bask in the familiar tones. "Good night?"

Joe nods. "Oh yeah," he agrees, inclining his head towards Tom's trophy. "Congrats, man."

"Thank you." Tom holds his award nearer his face, a deep frown line forming between his eyes. "I always thought it would be heavier?" He muses, running his thumb over the head of it. "But it's pretty light. Look."

What your boyfriend does next makes your blood turn cold. He easily and haphazardly throws his Oscar at Joe, who somehow startles in time to catch it, but not before letting out a stream of expletives.

"Tom!" You exclaim, eyes widening. "Don't throw your Oscar around!"

He grins wickedly, brown eyes dancing. "Sorry, darling," he murmurs, kissing your cheek again. "Got a bit giddy."

Tom's been walking on air recently, you've noticed. You'd put it down to the buzz of nerves that'd characterised your last few days too, but even now, Tom's vibrating with something. He's been very affectionate with you, and whilst Tom is by no means a selfish lover, you can't recall a time where he's been glued to your hip quite as much as he's been this last week. Always hanging around with open arms or warm lips or soft words, Tom has made it known, every second of every day, just how much he loves you. Which is a lot, apparently.