The It Girl

Gemma Fairfax placed her cup of tea on the coffee table in front of her, her eyes never leaving the television screen. She patted the area around her on the couch until her hands met the remote and quickly increased the volume. It was the evening news and they were doing a bit about a huge celebrity couple breaking up. Celebrity gossip and famous couples calling it quits were Gemma's guilty pleasures, so it seemed that this time was no different than any other evening that Gemma spends absorbing the hapless information of the pop culture media. But, surely, it was. This time she knew who was breaking up with who - and not just because she saw their faces on newsstands the entire time this couple was going out, but because one-half of that celebrity couple had been a good friend of hers.

"...it's been confirmed by reps of both parties that actress Regina Holloway and her actor boyfriend Tom Hiddleston have split up," the news presenter reported. The screen flashed paparazzi pictures of the two enjoying lunch together and played archive footage of Regina and Tom walking down the BAFTA red carpet together and appearing in each other's movie premieres. Gemma felt a tight knot at the end of her stomach, the same kind of eerie feeling when she first saw the news report of them confirmed to be dating. Now, they've split up and everything else feels so déjà vu.

Without hesitating, Gemma picked up the phone and quickly dialed her best friend's number. The phone rang for a few moments before the person on the other line picked up.

"Turn on your telly. NOW." Gemma had forgone the usual formalities as soon as Elsa picked up her phone.

"If you're talking about Tommo finally breaking up with that daft tart, then yes, darling, I'm watching it," she replied flippantly.

"Can you believe it? They were the talk of the town one minute and now they've gone and broken up!"

"Don't start throwing a party now, Gems," Elsa replied. "It's just a break up. So what?"

Gemma settled her nerves, realizing that her enthusiasm could rock the entire nation had it not been for Elsa's rather unbiased opinion on the matter.

"Right, yeah," she deflated. Gemma returned her attention to the screen where the news bit continued on with the most recent footage of Tom Hiddleston and Regina Holloway enjoying a walk at Kensington High Street despite being ogled by young fans while the voice over commented on the "deterioration of the UK's hottest 'It Couple'". Both tall and blonde, they looked ideally alike rather than ideally perfect for each other. However, Gemma could be the only one to take note of this. Elsa couldn't honestly care any less about the rugby playing drama freak from her and Gemma's days at Cambridge. It was eight years ago.

A lot of things could happen in a span of eight years. For example, Gemma flew off to places like Turkey and India and Russia while Tom had went on to study at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. Or probably Gemma coming back to London to become a partner at one of the most innovative and modern architecture firms and Tom scoring several roles in a couple TV programs here and there before becoming Britain's biggest up and coming actor since the emergence of Jude Law.

Surely, eight years can do a lot to affect people's relationships, too.

"Gemma, are you still there?" Elsa asked from the other line. Gemma snapped back to reality. The evening news cut to commercial break and that was probably the end of the Hiddleston-Holloway conundrum. For the time being, that is. Gemma switched off the television before Regina Holloway's face came up in one of those facial cosmetic commercials and further caused her more uneasy feelings.

"Er, yes! Yes, sorry, I'm here," she answered.

"For God's sake Gems, pull yourself together," Elsa hissed. It wasn't unusual for Elsa to get so chafed with Gemma's obsession (as she derisively puts it) with good ole Tom Hiddleston. "Even if he's 'back on the market' doesn't mean you ought to go ahead and take the first bus to his flat and confess your undying love to him."

Gemma remained quiet.

"Gemma!"

"What? Sorry! I wasn't going to take a bus," she muttered. "Probably a taxi."

"Oh, you're bloody impossible."

"Well sue me if fate decided to allow him back into my life!" Gemma cried disdainfully. "Don't you think it's a little bit mad how the minute I get back to London he's suddenly every where?"

"I swear to God, Gems, we are not going to have that conversation again." Elsa's voice had begun to strain in exasperation. "We get it, alright? We get it! Tom's all famous now, oh! Woe is me! Tom's got a slaggy girlfriend who's probably a size two but with no boobs to match, oh! Woe is me! Tom's finally gone and broken up with Regina Hollotwat, oh! Yay is me!"

Gemma pursed her lips, suddenly feeling borderline confused and offended. Elsa breathed heavily into the phone, she spoke again.

"Gem, look, I love you, but you really have got to stop this. You're a beautiful, brilliant adult woman with a brilliant job and an amazing flat. You have your entire life ahead of you and obsessing over Tom the way you did since you got back here will only get you nowhere."

"You just don't understand, Els," Gemma acknowledged quietly.

"I might not," her best friend admitted. "But I sure as hell don't think I need to."



He deliberately drained the battery on his phone and refused to plug it into a charger. It laid lifeless on his bedside table next to a half empty bottle of his favorite rum and his ash tray that never seemed to see the light of day (or the butts of his cigarettes) until now.

Tom decided that maybe all he needed now was to lie in bed while watching one of those re-runs of Friends on Comedy Central. Even if he had to appear at a couple televised interviews next week for the publicity of his new film, an upcoming modern romantic comedy adaptation of Wuthering Heights, his management allowed him to sit out and relax just for a little bit. He didn't need to go out in public anyway. His assistant could run errands for him. Oh, the beauty and burdens of being part of a public break up.

Picking up another cigarette from his pack on the bed, Tom stared at the tips of his fingers where gray ash had begun to build up under his overgrown and yellowed fingernails. He slipped the fag back into the pack and sighed dismally. He hadn't smoked habitually in awhile and even if this public break up caused such a storm in his side of London, he didn't think that picking it up again would be worth it. Besides, breaking up with Regina wouldn't last too long.

On the television screen, the motley crew of Friends were involved with trying to avoid telling their one friend, a character named Ross, that his new partner was a bit of crap choice. Tom leaned back against his bed's headboard and wondered if any of his friends had ever been in that sort of situation. It's true that he had lost contact with any of his "real", homegrown friends from university and from his stint at the RADA, but did any of the people he hung out with now realized that his own girlfriend (or now ex girlfriend) was a pretty crap choice? He suddenly felt like Ross with the exception of suddenly pondering on the idea of what his friends thought about Regina. Maybe they kept mum in an effort to keep him happy. But was he really?

Tom diverted his attention back to the episode. He had decided to stay home and watch the telly, not to dive into deep thoughts about the total essence of his and Regina's relationship. He shouldn't go mad over it. It was hard to ignore the calls that might come through as a result of the public announcement of their break up, but it was even more difficult to not have anyone to talk to about it. It killed him inside. Surely, he couldn't just strike up a conversation with the lot that he considered "friends" now because he wasn't as close to those folks as he'd wanted to be. And the friends or family he usually would talk to about these kinds of things were out of reach or have been for quite a while.

"Colin!" Tom bellowed.

Quickly, the sounds of footsteps hustled up the hardwood stairs and appeared at Tom's bedroom doorway in less than a minute.

"Sir?" A young red-faced lad with a dark cropped haircut answered his call, looking a tiny bit perplexed.

Tom offered a small smile. Ah, Colin Peabody. For the past six months, it seemed as if he had become Tom's only, well, friend. Basically, he was Tom's personal assistant, but in crises like this, all Tom needed was a friend. Even if he was paid by the hour.

"What do you think about having dinner?"

Colin straightened up at his spot by the door. He glanced down at the smartphone that was assigned to him for assisting purposes. "Oh, er, right. Would you like me to pick something up for you or...?"

Tom jumped out of bed with as much flourish that made Colin worry about him even more. He crossed his room to switch the television off and slip on his black loafers. "No, I was thinking maybe we'd go out for dinner or something."

"Dinner outside? Sir?" Colin scratched the back of his ear uneasily. "I don't think it'd be a good idea for you to have dinner out in Kensington at this time."

"Of course not," Tom stated with a shake of his head. "Let's get far away from the hubbub."

"Oh, erm, how far sir?"

"Not far." Tom shrugged and then grinned. "Fancy a good pizza up in Islington?"

"Islington?" Colin continued to look uneasy. "But why?"

"Don't know, really. But I've a feeling that that's the place to be tonight," Tom stated. He added, "And I know a brilliant place over there that's quite underrated. I suppose it'd be a good thing, considering the circumstances I'm in."

"But are you sure?" Colin stammered. "I mean, I could just drive up over there and get a take away for you if that's easier. I mean, let's not get into all this trouble just because you were hungry, right?"

"Nonsense!" Tom exclaimed, walking past Colin and heading downstairs. "I find it a bit suffocating having to be under house arrest. I'm going bloody mad!"

"Well that explains a lot of things," Colin murmured to himself. He followed Tom to the foyer where he was jostling a bunch of keys in his hands.

"What say you Colin m'laddo?" Tom was looking exceptionally uncanny for some reason, and despite the fact that going out would be going against any sound mind's judgment, Colin sighed and gave in.



Whenever Gemma was depressed, she found it suitable to sit in front of the television with a box full of chocolate biscuits in anticipation of the usual nightly re-runs of Friends. Since, however, anything airing on the television was the bearer of both unhappiness and shame, her only option was to go downstairs for a special guest appearance at her favorite pub-slash-eatery, Paulo's Nine Hands. It was a semi-blessing that she hadn't changed out of her work clothes in order to avoid the entire ceremony of re-dressing in more pub appropriate attire (Paulo's was also Gemma's favorite pick up spot, so her worn out pyjamas wouldn't make for good first impressions).

Grabbing her peacoat by the door and slipping into her shoes, Gemma left her flat for a five minute walk down the stairs and out to the best pub in Islington that stood right outside her brownstone.

Tuesday nights in central London were just as hectic as any weekend night, but it seemed as if the good Lord in Heaven had witnessed Gemma's horrible state and decided to dry the pub out of thirsty patrons just as he had dried out the Red Sea for parting. Upon entering, Gemma took her usual sit at the bar where her favorite bartender, Jimmy, was standing at the ready for her every need.

"Long day?" Jimmy assumed as soon as Gemma sighed deeply into her seat. "Will that be a coke and rum, then?"

Gemma merely nodded wearily to which Jimmy chuckled and gone ahead to prepare her drink. The pub wasn't too quiet, what with the jukebox at the corner playing "September" by Earth, Wind, & Fire. Quite an upbeat song - too upbeat, actually - for Gemma's rather gloomy state. It did, however, lightened her up just a tiny bit. She looked around to see an old couple - good old Mr. and Mrs. Wainsworth from the flat below her's - at a corner booth sharing a large plate of chips and watching a nightly comedy news show on the telly above the bar. On the other side of the bar counter sat a few more office workers like herself getting started on an early nightcap. The booths behind her were empty except for the one booth next to Mr. and Mrs. Wainsworth's where two men were enjoying Paulo's most delectable large vegetable and cheese pizza. Her mouth watered instantly at the sight of the men picking up their pieces, the steam of the pizza rising from the strings of cheese attached to the pan.

"Here ya go, pretty lady." Jimmy placed a coaster down in front of Gemma with her cold glass of rum and coke. He also gave her a small bowl of roasted peanuts.

"Cheers," she said disdainfully, slowly tipping the glass towards Jimmy before taking a big gulp of it. Jimmy smiled sympathetically at her. Seeing as he didn't want to bother with asking intrusive questions about her rather glum mood, he decided to bring up conversation of a different context.

"Hey, now here's something you didn't know," he said, leaning on the counter and edging towards her. "You know that booth next to Mr. and Mrs. Wainsworth's?"

Gemma knew which booth Jimmy was indicating; she had just been envious of the large pizza on it. "Right. What about it?"

"Well, my sources tell me that a hotshot movie star is sitting there, enjoying the deluxe veggie and cheese pizza."

Gemma almost choked and Jimmy looked on at her with an amused expression dancing whimsically on his eyes. He knew how obsessed she was with the pop media culture and celebrity sightings were her life-supply. Her eyes widened and she had to stop herself before swiveling 180 degrees in her seat to look fixedly at the pair sitting on it. That would be quite rude and awfully embarrassing for both parties. So slowly, she turned her head around to look at the Wainsworth's before setting her glances on the booth next to them.

How could she have not recognized them the first time? The second time wasn't any different either. She stared intently at one of the men, the one whose back was facing towards her. He looked shorter than the man across him - whose face was very visible to Gemma - and he had short, cropped dark hair. Gemma furrowed her eyebrows. There were a ton of men in Hollywood and in the UK film industry with short, cropped dark hair. She turned back to Jimmy, looking at him doubtfully.

"I don't recognize anyone."

Jimmy laughed quietly. "You seriously don't recognize him? He was on the news the entire time earlier! He was that bloke from that superhero movie, the one who dated that actress from that butler movie! Now, I can't seem to put my tongue on it. What was that movie she was in? The Remaining Day? The Day Remains?"

"The Remains of the Day", she corrected. "The remake?"

"Yeah, exactly! Not the one with Emma Thompson."

Gemma pondered on that deeply. "Bloke from a superhero movie who dated an actress from a butler movie?" She paused, deep in thought. "It couldn't be..."

Quickly, and this time with no hesitance of being caught, she turned around to get a better look. She was looking at the wrong guy! The tall, blonde man that sat across dark cropped hair man had that familiarly chiseled cheekbones. His hair glinted under the fluorescent lamp above their hands and showed up strands of beautiful gold and his eyes. His eyes. He looked up at her (and it would be too hard to miss her, considering that she was legitimately watching him) and never broke his gaze. Gemma blushed furiously before looking away and turning back around in her seat.

Fumbling with her coat pocket, Gemma had a harder time pulling out her cellphone, and an even more difficult time trying to compose a proper text message.

"God, Gems," Jimmy said after throwing a glance at the "hotshot movie star" seated at the booth next to the Wainsworths. "What did you do? He keeps looking here. Oh, now he's friend's looking here, too. I think... they're talking about you."

Gemma couldn't hear him. She could only hear a distinct ringing in her ears, like an alarm that was suddenly going off because one system in her body wasn't functioning properly. Trying to text Elsa was harder than she thought.



"Erm, you might want to keep a heads up," Jimmy said quickly before slinking away to assist the other pub customers who appeared at the counter. Gemma looked at him confusedly before looking past her shoulder where he was just looking at prior to his unexplained disappearance.

She froze.

"Gemma, hi."