Once Upon A Time... The End

Open Books and Mistakes

When I return to the main room of the house, I find Tom alone in the kitchen, a glass of red wine in his hand as he stares rather intently at something on the counter. He's a bit slouched, his shoulders drooping, a rare posture from Tom. Tom whose always upright and full of laughter stands now in a deserted kitchen, melancholy and thoughtful. I'm careful not to make much noise as I watch him, wondering what could possibly be upsetting him so.

A frown twists his face and I soon realize there are actually a variety of emotions playing on his face; but anger, confusion, and guilt seem to be the most predominant. He's never been a closed book, Tom, and certainly not with those he's familiar. Sure, for the interviews and paparazzi he's nothing but a charming bachelor who tortures his squealing fangirls just by breathing, a man who gracefully evades questions he chooses not to answer. But he's much more than that man everyone sees on large, flat screens in the cinema. He's a friend, a mate, a brother, a confidant.

An open book, I thought.

I blinked a few times before clearing my throat loudly, announcing my presence. Tom jerked upright, his face going blank momentarily as he tore his eyes away from whatever it was in his hands. Feeling more than embarrassed for spying, I gave him an small smile as I walked in.

"So sorry, mate. Didn't mean to, um... hope I, uh, wasn't--" I broke off once Tom waved my apologies away, smiling a little himself.

"No, no! Please, you're fine. Don't-don't worry about it, man, really."

I raised an eyebrow, eyeing the half empty bottle of very potent wine on the bar. I slowly remembered that Tom was very good at holding his liquor. His speech was hardly impaired at all, and he didn't seem to sway to and forth as he stood. But his eyes... The blue, instead of being dull and glazed over, were brighter almost, an electric color that was just as startling as the range of emotions on his face.

"Alright, there?" I asked softly, watching Tom completely down the rest of his glass. He exhaled, grimacing. "Tom, mate, what's wrong?"

Tom tilted his head at me as though he were trying to gauge my level of sincerity. "Lots of things, currently, Ben, if I'm being honest."

I nodded, admittedly puzzled by his confession. "Well, Thomas, I'm all ears if you want to talk--"

And then, right there, I watched one of the most respected and put together men I've ever met break down in from of me. A loud sob escaped Tom's lips as he bent over the bar, nearly knocking the bottle of wine off the countertop. My eyes widened and I jumped to catch the bottle, grabbing it just in time and placing it out of harms way. All the while, Tom has continued to sob, large, wet tears leaking out of his eyes as he weeps.

The urgency of the situation sends me into action, my only goal now to get him quiet and away from Olivia and Sharon. I take the glass from his hand and make up my own mind about Tom's alcohol consumption: he's had far too much.

"Lord! Shush, Tom! Tom, Liv is asleep--"

"It was a mistake!" He mumbles into his arm as I walk around the counter, pulling him from where he stands and into the guest room I'm staying in. Tom doesn't stumble at all, but protests all the way to my room, babbling about mistakes and accidents.

"I didn't mean to do it, Ben, I swear!"

I frown at his words, swiveling my head around to ensure that Olivia hasn't been awoken and I'm glad to know that Sharon is nowhere in sight.

He's just a bit pissed, Benedict, I tell myself. Let him babble for a few more minutes, he'll be out cold soon enough.

"Hey." I say, loud enough for him to hear over his sobbing. I push him down onto the bed, and he collapses with a grunt. I kneel in front of him, titling my head to look at him. "Hey, tell me what's wrong. What the hell's going on?"