toM's story - chapter 1

You know, it’s not that I don’t enjoy being a popstar – it’s an incredible feeling being out on stage in front of thousands of people – but I do wish the fans didn’t follow me everywhere. My girlfriend… she understands it, but I really don’t think she likes it. That and not being able to see me for sometimes a month or more – that sort of thing takes its toll on a relationship, and I don’t want to lose her. She knows I could never quit McFly, never give her the attention she truly deserves. But maybe… maybe, for one night, I can.

She’s out at college for the afternoon – I let myself in with my key, making sure to lock the door behind me. Her city flat looks so tidy compared to my room (not that she’s the tidiest person I know – I’m just a pig when it comes to these things) – the walls a pale blue, decorated with Japanese letters (or were they Chinese? Taiwanese? Dammit, she told me sometime…), a few ornaments from various holidays placed around, and over there, hanging by the kitchen door, a McFly calendar, open at a picture of me making a ridiculous face. God I looked young there… though most of that was probably that I haven’t had a proper haircut since that photo was taken. Still, it made me smile.

I wandered into her bedroom, sat on the bed and placed a kiss on the pillow where her head had lain. Now – don’t think I’m desperate here. It’s just that I love her, and everything about her. She’s just so… so… it’s hard to describe. She’s just… she’s Tes – and I love her.

True to the song, we met in a club down in old Soho (luckily no champagne like cherry cola – I could never stand cherries. I’m more of a cocktail guy.) We didn’t exactly hit it off – I got a bit too drunk and nearly puked in her lap. Still, she took pity on me, and got me a taxi home. I don’t remember much, but I know she helped me up to my room. When I woke up the next morning and looked in the mirror, I saw her mobile number written across my forehead. If it weren’t for the incredible hangover, I’d have laughed out loud. As it was, I had to settle for downing a glass of cold water in celebration of my fortune.

That was almost eighteen months ago now – hard to believe that back then I was a complete unknown to world at large – now I can barely move for fans pestering me, trying to get my autograph. Then there was that fat girl who forced her way into my hotel room and demanded to have my babies… But through it all, Tes was there – always willing to listen and laugh with me, making me feel more special than any sales statistic or fan adoration could. She was just so nice to me, so sweet, caring and kind. Her not trying to rape me I just considered as a bonus. Come to think of it, a lot of people have tried to rape me… or at least Danny’s always jumping on me in bed… maybe I should get a lock fitted on my door… nah, he’d just break it down and jump on me anyway.

I broke out of my daydream – I’d never be ready when she got back if I kept going like that. Time to get to work. I pulled off my backpack, pulling it open and spilling out the contents onto the bed. I fingered the pack of rose petals, pondering the possibilities. I’d considered the whole “trail of rose-petals to the bed, lie naked on bed with rose in mouth”, but it was too… it just wasn’t right. I mean… I wanted sex, but I didn’t want it to be about sex. I wanted her to just relax and enjoy an evening with her boyfriend. Boyfriend… what a word. So impersonal. But lover didn’t quite fit right either. It sounded as if it was only about the sex, and it wasn’t. Strange how 80% of a word can be love, yet not be about love at all. I don’t know what you should call me really – I just settle for Tom.

So… what to do with rose petals… I had some ideas, but I wanted time to think about them. The candles I was sure about – a group of three on each side-table of the double bed, and a few more on the chest of drawers. I resisted the urge to look through her underwear drawer, instead my attention drawn to the framed photo of us together on the London Eye. She’d told me how she’d always wanted to ride it, so I booked us in as a party so we got the whole gondola to ourselves. I’m not sure what she liked best – going on it or just being able to walk straight past the queue. I know what I liked best, though. We were nearly at the top, looking out over the Thames, our hands on each others’ backs when she turned her face to me and whispered “I love you”. I was a bit shocked to be honest. I mean… I felt the same way, but… no one had ever told me that before. At least not like that. I looked back at her – she was so beautiful there, the watery October sunlight on her face, with the backdrop of the London skyline… She was perfect. I’m not talking Mary Poppins “practically perfect,” I’m talking about true perfection… Tes… my Tes. I looked into her eyes (a gorgeous shade of blue/green), and smiled, saying back,

“I love you too.”

It was perfect. We took the photo not five minutes later, set on a timer so we could be hugging each other and smiling dementedly. I smiled fondly remembering – remembering how we’d run laughing to my car and sped through London’s streets on a wild ride out of the city, eventually spending the night at a small inn with only one room free. It was the happiest night of my life.

I guess what I wanted for tonight was something that would at least be more than a pale shadow of that night. It wasn’t that it had been bad since – every moment with her was perfect, special – an eternal ecstasy. It just… well, like I said… it’s not easy being a popstar – I missed her terribly when we were on tour. It amazed me how much I missed the really simple things of a relationship – just having someone to hold hands with, or just to hear those three special words – I love you. I don’t think the others had ever really been in love – they knew I cared, but I don’t think they realised how much. I’m full of love, they’re full of lust. Hell, I think that Danny almost cums playing solos on his guitar sometimes.

But anyway (damn my wandering mind) - no to looking through her undies, yes to getting on with the job. I wandered through the place, putting up candles here and there, making sure there were about ten in the bathroom. I just hope the smoke alarms don’t go off. Hmm… I checked my watch – she’d be home in somewhere around 30mins. Time to start getting dinner. First though, I set the table for two, with a single candle. Dinner should be a simple affair I decided – nothing tricky (I’m not exactly a good cook) or fancy, just tasty. Tuna Napolitana with pasta shells and fresh-chopped tomatoes was what I chose. If you really want to know how to cook it, go find a cook book or something. Five minutes… I left the pots for a minute to go and light the candles in the lounge, dim the lights, scatter those rose petals over the bed, and grab the bunch of roses I’d bought. Dinner was ready, and I doled the shells out into two bowls, heaping the tuna on top. Put them out on the table, wait.

A scratch at the door, turning of the key… I grabbed the flowers, and stood in the middle of the room.

“Wha…?” Her voice trailed off as she saw me.

“Hi babe.” I answered sheepishly.