High Hopes

There are only two days that fill the space between Tuesday and Friday. Only two days had separated me from Tom, possibly more if I decided to be strong tonight and avoid the Thor 2 premiere, and I couldn't keep my thoughts from wandering to him. I wasn't supposed to have kissed him. I wasn't supposed to have practically jumped back into his arms.

I chewed my lip nervously, trying to distract myself with a simple game of Candy Crush when a text from him came through and interrupted me.

thomas:
Not too late to change your mind and be my date.

'Funny.' I quickly typed back to him. He was relentless in his efforts - probably because he knew he was close to breaking me down. 'Don't think it's gonna happen.' My thumb hovered over the 'Send' button. I chewed on my lip again, pressing the button once and for all. I threw the phone on my bed, secretly hoping it wouldn't alert me of any new messages again but all the while knowing Tom would continue.

I opened my laptop, sat atop my plain white dresser, putting on "Across the Universe" by The Beatles and flopping back onto my freshly washed white comforter. I closed my eyes, enjoying the light breeze that meandered into my eighth floor apartment.

"Nothing's gonna change my world," I sang along with the music once or twice, until I grew too tired and finally succumbed to a nap.

---

Buzz-Buzz. I kept my eyes closed, though I knew somewhere there were text messages waiting for me. The sun had gone down since I was last coherent, but my laptop continued to play calming music. It was currently on one of my favorites, immediately putting me in a better mood.

I felt around the bed, finally grabbing my phone and seeing the multitude of notifications. Instagram and Twitter notifications mostly, and to my surprise, only one text from Tom.

I wish you were here.

---

"This is a terrible idea," I mumbled to myself. I'd thrown on a dress I hadn't worn before; a white and gold dress that was fancier than I could describe. I'd really no idea if any of the outfit went together. That was something my agent was working on - finding a stylist for me, since I was hopeless in the fashion category.

I did like the clack of my heels on the sidewalk, though, and the nervous butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. I'd asked around and gotten the address for the after party, which I was walking up to.

There was a long line to get in, and at the front were large bouncers who looked bored of stories in attempts to get into the star-studded party. I gave one my name, and the two stepped aside for me while they unhooked the velvet rope. "Enjoy yourself, Miss Kopecky," came from the one I'd given my name to. I smiled at him, my ears beginning to feel hot from my nerves.

It wasn't nearly as crowded inside as I expected, and I maneuvered through the crowd with ease. I ordered a drink at the bar, something I didn't like all that much so that I could keep myself in check. A tiny blonde woman appeared in my peripheral vision, approaching me with too much vigor for someone I didn't know.

"Grace, right? I'm Elsa, Chris's wife! Tom will be so happy you came! Come with me." She grabbed my hand, pulling me towards a more secluded area. VIP, I'm assuming. My ears began to burn hotter when I laid my eyes on the group. My mind started to race, and I subconsciously brought my drink to my lips, downing it quickly. I set it down on the ledge behind the booth the group was sitting at, causing Tom to look up with a startled expression.

"So I'm sure you know everyone, but I'll introduce you anyway!" Elsa's voice was far too cheery for my liking. I could actually feel myself start to get bad again. I was too angry for tears. It all happened too fast. "My husband Chris, Zachary, Tom, Tom's girlfriend Claire...."

Tom and I had been staring at each other while Elsa went on to Kat Dennings and her boyfriend. We'd been staring at each other since he became aware of my presence. I'd been staring at him since I saw him, draped around the lanky blonde that was apparently his girlfriend. He had been his carefree, bubbly self with her. He appeared perfectly in his element.

Not wanting to make a scene, I excused myself. Turning on my heel, I walked purposefully deeper into the VIP area until I found a random empty room. I waited patiently, all the while fuming. I knew he wasn't far behind me.

"Grace, I-"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I spewed at him as he walked through the door and closed it gently behind him. He stared at me, a guilty look on his face.

"I don't even know what to say to you right now," I spat. "A girlfriend?!" I paced around the room, gritting my teeth as my thoughts spun. This was definitely a terrible idea.

He sat down on the couch that was in the room. "I'm sorry."

"How could you?" I asked, not even sure what I meant. "Does she know you cheated on her? Does she know you're a lying son of a bitch? Tom, what the fuck?! How can you expect me to trust you again, after all of this shit?"

My vulgar thoughts just tumbled out of me, but I didn't have anything left to say. I'd said it. The trust was gone.

"Please, sit down," He tried. I stayed put, folding my arms in protest. "No."

"I-" His voice cracked. "I didn't think you were coming. I know that's not a reason to bring someone else-"

"Your girlfriend," I interrupted.

"She doesn't mean anything to me," He asserted, his voice raising slightly as he stared at me with his big, blue eyes. "She was supposed to be a replacement for you. I don't do drugs. I don't drink excessively. I can't have sex with random women I don't know. Instead, I just found someone who told me I was everything she needed. That's what I needed to be able to live with myself."

I sighed, sitting on the couch next to him. I understood what he was saying. I hadn't been coping that well with losing him, and he hadn't coped well either. We had both tried to cope in our own ways and we'd both failed.

I leaned back on the couch, covering my eyes with my hand in a sort of sad frustration. "Does she love you?"

"No, I'm sure she doesn't. I've been a shit boyfriend to her," He admitted. "I can't even pretend."

We sat in silence for a few more minutes. "FUBAR," I muttered.

He looked over at me, smiling sadly and taking my hand in his. "FUBAR," He confirmed.

We were fucked up beyond all recognition.