Teal.

Julian's phone went off at half past two. He'd only managed to doze off about an hour before. His afternoon after Teal had stormed out had consisted of pacing, cursing himself, and the occasional text to her phone—none of which had received a reply. In his sleepy haze, he was almost surprised to see her name lighting up his screen as an incoming call.

“’Ello, is this Julian?”

He paused for a moment, the male voice not what he had expected. He cleared his throat. “Yes, speaking.”

“I think I’ve got something that belongs to you, mate,” the voice stated, sounding almost relieved. In the background he could hear the sounds of a large crowd and loud music.

“Sorry, but what?”

“Little American bird, tiny thing with a lot of curly hair.” Through the static and noise on the other side he heart a familiar bout of laughter. Teal.

“Something of mine? What are you talking about, did she have my wallet or something?” He sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Actually I was just referring to the girl, mate. She’s yours isn’t she? This is the only local contact in her cell. Poor things bloody pissed, definitely doesn’t need to be around this lot. No one seems to know her, so we’re not exactly sure how she got in here, or just how to get her back home.”
Julian’s heart dropped in his chest. What on Earth had she done this time?

“Where exactly are you?” He muttered, already rummaging around his room for a pair of slacks and a shirt that wasn’t dirty. The man on the other end gave him the name; it was a very exclusive nightclub he’d been to once or twice, only the rich or famous were able to pull their way in. Teal’s presence there was certainly a source of confusion, until he remembered one of their conversations while he had been in New York for the audition.

"David had planned a meeting with one of the guys they’re considering for Aaron in the movie. Tate Goodwin? He was really nice, I think he’d be a great fit.”

“Tate Goodwin,” Julian said coldly.

“Oh, Tate? Yeah, he was in here, left about twenty minutes ago I’d say. Poor chap had a bloody nose, looked like he got socked real good,” the caller confirmed.

“Look, I’m on my way over there now, could you just keep her with you? Just keep her inside, I don’t need her wandering off around London in the middle of the night.” He’d found his coat by then, not bothering to button it up as he through the door to his apartment open and stepped out into the cold night.

“Jeez, mate, you should keep better track of your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, and please, just keep her there,” Julian growled.

“You sure you don’t want us to wait outside? This isn’t a bar.”

The lift didn’t seem to rise fast enough, and with a glower Julian headed for the stairs. “Oh, don’t worry about that, I’ll get in. Do not let her out of your sight. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

**

In the low flashing lights of the room he saw her almost right away, perched unsteadily on a barstool as a bloke with shoulder length blond hair tried to steady her with one hand, while attempting to extract a drink from her palms with the other. He seemed to be having no luck with either, as she almost toppled into the floor, still latched onto the drink’s straw.

Numerous people called his name as he pushed is way through the crowd, reaching the two in time to prevent her from face planting on the floor as the fellow finally managed to wrestle the drink from her grasp.

She caught sight of him, eyes lighting up almost immediately. “Juliaaaan! What’re you doing here?”

“Teal, I feel like I should be asking you the same question, but for now how about we get you home,” he stated over the music, trying to help her to her feet.

“Bloody hell, Julian Giles? I had no idea it was you the little bird here knew, I would have called you sooner.” Julian looked over to find Wallace Holt grinning at him he helped steady the girl. Before Julian had gotten into acting they’d done a few modeling shoots together, but as both their careers took off in different directions they’d lost touch. Any other night Julian would have been willing to chat and catch up, but the intoxicated girl with one arm slung over his shoulder was all he could handle in that moment.

“Evening, Wallace. May I ask where you found her?” He asked as politely as he could manage.

The other took notice of the strained look on his face, nodding slightly. “I walked by the table where I’d seen Tate Goodwin sitting a little earlier and she was just there by herself, crying her eyes out.”

“Any idea why?”

“Nope, never would say, as soon as I got her to the bar and she got another drink in her hands she seemed to cheer right up; then one turned to two, and two to four, and about the sixth I decided it was time to call someone.”

“Oh, Teal, what on Earth was going through that head of yours,” Julian muttered to the drunk girl. She looked up, gracing him with a lopsided smile as she stumbled through the club towards the exit.

“You sure about that ‘not my girlfriend’ thing, mate? Six months before you and Claire announced it officially all of the UK knew you were dating.” Wallace smiled coyly.

“Julian, hey, Julian, I think I did something bad,” Teal muttered, trying to unhook herself from their arms. “Everyone’s gonna be mad at me again.”

The blonde’s eyebrows rose in an accusatory fashion. Julian found himself shaking his head as the exited the club; hurrying to the taxi he had left waiting for them. “No, this time, really no, not my girlfriend, despite what the tabloids are insistent on saying. Just a…friend, I guess.”

“You guess?” Wallace asked, pointedly.

“Look we had a bit of a quarrel earlier and I didn’t think we were exactly on speaking terms.” The actor stopped, thinking about what he had just said. “And that didn’t help my case any, did it?”

The model shook his head, chucking in amusement. “No, sorry mate. I don’t think the most emotionally oblivious person on earth would believe that.”

“You and everyone else can think what you will. But we are not dating.” The words left his mouth just as a flashbulb beside them went off. Julian closed his eyes, heaving a heavy sigh before looking over to find a paparazzi snapping away as he tried to assist the drunk girl into the car. Teal wouldn't be happy to hear about that when she sobered up, and it held the promise of more calls about whatever insidious tripe the tabloids were bound to come up with about this little fiasco.

“Oh trust me mate, we will,” Wallace laughed. Julian didn’t reply, clambering into the cab beside Teal as he slammed the door shut.

“Back to the flats.”

The cabby merely nodded. Teal swayed back and forth at his side, humming a horribly off tune. Julian looked over at her, irritation mingled with concern bubbling to the forefront of his mind.

“So, care to tell me what exactly you were doing there?” He asked. She looked over, curls a mess, eyes hazy. He noticed for the first time then her lipstick was smeared a little, eyeliner and mascara smudged beneath her eyes. There was a certain burning sensation in his chest, unpleasant and growing.

“You sure are nosy,” She muttered, scowling at him. “It’s your fault, you know.”

“My fault?” He gaped at her. “How is you deciding to get bloody smashed my fault?”

The scowl turned in to a glower as she pushed herself up from her slumped over position. “Oh don’t even pretend, mister hot-shot actor. It was because what yoooou did this afternoon. So I went out with that guy Tate just calm down and try to forget, but that didn’t go so well. I did something bad, again.”

“What are you talking about, exactly, what did you do?”

She seemed to hesitate, holding a finger up as she sat silently, lips apart, eyes focused past him on the window. “I punched him. In the face.”

“Pardon me, could you repeat that?” Julian inquired, eyebrows scrunched together, not entirely sure he had heard her properly. That was when her lower lip started to quiver, eyes getting glassy as her already pink face took on more color. Oh no. He didn’t like where this was going.

“Hu-he said he w-wasn’t going to accept the role of Elliot even if it got him A-list status, because I punched him,” she sobbed.

“Teal,” he said cautiously. “Teal, why did you punch Tate Goodwin in the face?”

“Because of reasons,” she muttered, wiping her nose as she avoided looking at him. He took hold of her wrists with one hand, carefully turning her face towards his with his other. Tilting her chin up he made her look him in the eyes. There was a lot going on behind them; anger, fear, shame, and something completely broken.

He spoke gently, “Why?”

“Because I didn’t wanna kiss him,” she spat, tears running down her cheeks.

That didn’t seem to process for a moment or two. Just the thought of Tate Goodwin getting anywhere near Teal’s face irked him to no end. He pressed his lips together, swallowing as a stale silence sat in.

“So he tried to kiss you, then?” Julian asked, trying to maintain an even tone.

Teal’s face puckered, and she shook her head wiping the smeared lipstick on the back of her hand. “He didn’t just try; he did. Even—even though I told him no. And it was repulsive and he tasted like cigarettes. He wouldn’t stop s-so I punched him in the face.”

If Julian was being honest, he’d never liked the guy; but at that point it became something deeper. Dislike was too light of a word.

"He's a scumbag womanizer, Teal, are you telling me you had no idea about that before you went out with him? It's constantly in the tabloids.”

“Aside from you who else do I know around here? Who exactly am I supposed to turn to when something like…that… happens?”

“’That?’ What do you mean by ‘that?’” Julian fired immediately.

“You getting too close, that’s what. You were right you know. But why couldn’t you just keep your damn distance? Why does everyone want to get close? I don’t want that anymore I don’t want to get hurt and I know if someone gets close they’re going to hurt me. Just like Christian did.” Her words poured out, unfiltered and unedited for once. They were bitter and raw, startlingly honest, a far stronger tirade of her feelings as compared to earlier that day. “You were always supposed to be kept at a distance, but you, you persistent box-faced idiot just couldn’t do that, could you?”

“Did you just call me box-faced?” He queried, all together confused.

“You have a box for a head! How the hell could you not know that? It’s a pretty box but a box all the same,” she snapped, making the unsteady shape of a box around her own face with her fingers.

She swayed back and forth a little as she glowered at him, a tiny, drunk ball of emotions, predominantly anger. He sighed, shaking his head a bit.

“Oh, Teal, you are properly pissed,” he chuckled in exhaustion.

“And you are properly box-faced,” she mumbled mockingly.

“Do you realize you’ve hit two stars in one day, Teal?” Julian grinned bitterly, the memory of her slap earlier stinging a bit as he thought of her similar reaction to Tate Goodwin. Was he just as repulsive, had he been just as abrasive as the other man probably had?

Teal grew silent, hazy eyes staring at him, as a horrified expression seemed to overtake her features. The tears were beginning to flow again, hands flying to her mouth. The actor’s smile faded immediately, panic growing as she started to cry again.

“Teal?” He asked cautiously, reaching out for her. But she shook her head in response, letting out another sob.

“Y-you’re not gonna take the role either now, are you?” she wept. “Oh god, I’m sorry Julian, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I really didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry…”

“No, no, no,” he said quickly, reaching towards her. “Teal, stop, please, don’t cry. I’m not going to turn down the role. Oh, Teal, hush, it’s all right. I deserved it, and so did he. It’s okay, I promise, it’s okay.”
He pushed the disheveled curls back from her eyes as she sobbed, her fingers grasping at his hands as he cupped her face gently. She leaned forward, dropping her head on his chest as she continued to cry.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“Shush, it’s okay, I promise. Just breathe for me, everything is going to be just fine.”

Teal’s drunken apologies continued for another few minutes as the cab rolled on, clinging to Julian’s tear-stained shirt all the while. But her cries finally stopped shortly before they reached the flats, and her grip loosened some. It came as no surprise to Julian when he found her eyes closed, mouth slightly agape against him; the alcohol had finally knocked her out.

Carefully, he gathered her into his arms as the cab came to a stop before their residence and carried her in and onto the lift. She smelled of alcohol and mint. Her face was still flushed, head lolling against his chest as he waited for it to reach his floor. It took a bit of effort to get the key out of his pocket and unlock his door with her in his arms, but somehow he managed, kicking the door closed behind him on entry.

He carefully placed her down in his bed, and she shift slightly, curling herself into a tight ball. With a sigh and a slight smile, he pulled the sheets up around her before lightly stroking a few strands of hair away from her face.

From the top of his closet he pulled an old blanket, shutting the door to his room behind him as he left and made his way back to the couch she had fallen asleep on multiple times during the last few weeks. It seemed the best way to make sure she didn't leave without speaking to him at that point; they were desperately due for a conversation. The last thing he wanted was her sneaking out without his notice once again. He needed to apologize; and there was no way he'd miss her if she tried to leave like this. After he’d settled himself in he heaved a large sigh, covering his eyes with his forearm.

Teal was still an enigma to him; an extremely broken girl hiding behind a mask of certainty and confident smiles. But that had been ripped away a short while ago, and it was he who had made the first tear, he realized much to his dismay. He had set it off earlier that day with his thoughtless advance and persistent prying that had scared her so badly. If either of them should have been apologizing, without a doubt it was he.