Porcelain

“I swear to god in that moment she was so angry you could literally see steam coming from her ears, it was hilarious,” Tom narrated, and Emma burst into a fit of giggles. Addison forced out a smile before taking a mouthful of her second drink of the evening and focused back on the plate in front of her. After some prompting from his sister the man had begun to tell stories from the set of the latest film he had wrapped up and all Addison could wish for was to finish her meal so that she could escape to her bedroom. It seemed like she couldn’t shovel it in fast enough though and was hearing far too much about Tom’s latest adventures. “That’s enough about me though, how have you two been?”

“Peachy,” Addison answered as she placed another forkful of food into her mouth. Tom’s brows rose momentarily before Emma diverted his attention, beginning to tell him about the stage production that was currently in development for her. Hearing the girl’s stories were a little more manageable and Addison found herself able to stomach much more of her meal as both of them listened to her. Tom hung off her every word like she was about to reveal the secrets of the world, but then again he seemed to be dedicated to every movement he, or others made.

Much to the girl’s chagrin as Emma trailed off she muttered and apology and excused herself to the bathroom, heading out of the kitchen towards the stairs. That left Addison and Tom in the room alone and the plum haired girl actually debated picking up her knife to see if it would in fact cut the air. Instead she settled for draining the last of her drink and pushing some food around on her plate.

“Addison are you really okay? Emma told me that you’ve been having some troubles lately,” Tom’s voice cut through the silence. With the admission her head shot up and her fork fell with a clatter.

“Oh great, so she’s been telling you all about me?” she said through gritted teeth and the man’s expression darkened slightly.

“I know you don’t like me, but she’s only doing it because she cares about you,” he replied and she let out a grunt, pushing her chair back and rising to her feet. Collecting her plate she moved to the bin, dumping her scraps into it. “Look, she only told me because she needed to voice her worries, and I suppose because she thought maybe I could help either of you.”

“And how could you possibly help me Tom?” Addison asked, her voice a little too venomous even for her liking and she screwed her eyes shut briefly. Shaking her head slightly she forced herself to continue to the sink, picking up a cloth and beginning to scrub at her plate.

“I don’t know exactly, perhaps I could offer some suggestions? I remember once when I was in RADA I lost my drive; I ended up watching the sunrise over London and it felt absolutely amazing.”

“No offense, but how exactly is that supposed help me? They’re completely different situations. You lost your muse and were reinvigorated by some godforsaken hour. I have no muse to find,” she said, shoving the dish into the drying rack and turning back around. She could hear the sound of Emma’s footsteps on the stairs and thanked no one in particular for her return.

“Look, perhaps it won’t. It’s just a suggestion, like I said. But if you ever decide to give it a go I’ll be happy to join you,” he offered and she was just about to ask him why on earth he thought she’d want to sit on a hill with him when Emma stepped into the kitchen.

“Thanks,” she instead mumbled, stepping away from the counter. She took one last glance at the man, who was sitting spread eagled on the chair with his hands folded behind his head and excused herself. Heading for her room she had to pause halfway up the staircase to catch her breath from the anger that was constricting her chest.

Addison hadn’t hated Tom from the very first moment she laid eyes on him; it was only soon after that she had begun to form a negative approach to him. He hadn’t been rude to her, or mistreated her – in fact she wasn’t even sure it was possible for the man. He was tall, good looking, athletic, had manners that hadn’t been seen for decades, held a successful acting career that these days made him household name, and was always a freaking ray of sunshine. She had never seen him angry, or frustrated, or sad. And that was exactly why she hated him. Tom was everything she wasn’t and had his life so well sorted that it made her feel ill. She didn’t care if it was immature or outrageous that she was so envious of him that it made her despise every inch of him. All she knew was that it only took his name to be mentioned for her to feel the well of anger and loathing begin to rise.

Forcing herself to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself, she continued her ascent. She couldn’t believe that Emma had told him of all people about the way she was currently falling apart at the seams. The idea of Tom knowing just how imperfect she was made her want to go back down there and scream at the top of her lungs. Instead she made herself place one foot in front of the other until she reached her room, slamming the door shout with a resounding bang.