Chapter 8 // Unexpected
I think this was the most frustrating flight I've ever been on. Apart from Tom making me feel so pathetic and such a naive sucker for musicians, I was actually afraid that this particular case could make my career go away from me. I mean, this industry is tough. If they knew that I'm dating Tom Odell, they'd be fine, maybe even slightly happy, but if they found out that I was some sorta groupie, an escort for a 24-year-old (Gee, he was even younger than me), I'd be dead in a minute.
I was so angry at him. How could anyone do that? More importantly, how could someone say all these sweet, sweet things to you just to get laid? Was romance and monogamy really dead nowadays? I didn't have more time for thinking about the mess I was in. At the end of the day, no one knew about me and Tom apart from him and me, and some of our friends, so I was good. I was still extremely angry with him.
Finally, I got to my hotel, which was just incredible, apparently the best. I needed to get my mind of things, so I took a long bath, read a book and tried not to go online.
After my second glass of wine, Alexa finally called me up. "Hey, are you here yet?"
"Yup, just landed."
"Well then send me your details now, we're going out to explore London's nightlife. Probably gonna end up in karaoke bar or something, as always."
All of this sounded really nice but there was still one thing that was really bothering me, "Wait, Alexa, is Tom gonna be there?" And I was really afraid to hear the answer.
"No, I don't think so, at least I haven't talked to him about anything. I considered if you were in London, he would be with you all the time. Sometimes, he looks like a little puppy in love, it's cute." Wasn't so sure about that.
So, we went out that night, and, lucky for me, I didn't see him anywhere. I don't know why, but I didn't tell anyone that evening about what I had heard about Tom humping every girl in USA. I just didn't feel like talking about him. And it was weird because those were his friends. I could live with just being unhappy myself, didn't have to bring other people into it.
I was still extremely tired from jetlag and entirely drunk, so I decided to head home. London in night was just fabulous as real fancy New Yorkers would say, having my last cigarette of the evening and a bit of wind blowing through my hair was incredible. Up until one moment.
"Well, look who it is! I forgot that you were coming to London," a tall, blond, so-pretty-it-hurts boy grinned at me. I hated when he did that.
"Yeah, I gotta go." I wasn't taking any of his shit tonight, I had too much of a good night.
"Wait, why? Can't we chat for a bit?"
I laughed for a bit, "Chat? What should we chat about? Maybe about your girl in LA or maybe about the one in Philly, oh, you know, who was a really cool girl, the one in Dallas, she was a real treat, wasn't she?"
He looked a bit sick. I just turned away and tried to go home already, but he apparently didn't want for me to do that. "Pops," he made his puppy face, "what are you talking about?"
"Oh, just go online already, I don't have time for this, Tom. I need to sleep."
"Let me at least walk you home." Was he being serious?!
This was horrible, I hope I wouldn't meet him ever again.