Chapter 3
In case you haven't figured it out, this story is primarily about what it's like to be famous and the struggles of a celebrity. It's not all just attention, beauty, and money. So Tris's fame and life is the main plot, while her relationship with Tobias is secondary and a subplot. Think of this as a… an exposé, if you will. I've done my research, and being famous kinda sucks, to be honest.
Tris ran all around her room the next morning. She had absolutely no idea what she'd wear.
What do you wear for a thing like this? she asked herself. It's not a date, but I can tell that he's going to flirt which makes us a little bit more than friends, right?
She groaned. It was a solid 13˚C outside (which equates to around 55˚F for you Americans), which was somewhat cold for September.
She frowned yet again, and then stood up on her stool to the top part of the closet. The average person could reach, but Tris was nowhere near average, considering she stood a mere 1.6 meters tall (which is around 5'2 for you Americans).
Then Tris found a red and dark blue plaid shirt. She knew she had a blue scarf that would match perfectly. She threw on regular dark jeans, and then black Vans. To finish it off, she put on her aviator sunglasses and put her hair up in a simple ponytail.
When she was done getting ready to exist, she walked out of the door that belonged to her apartment at noonish. She made her way to the coffeehouse, and in her hand was a book. In her back pockets lied her phone, which enabled her to listen to music, and her wallet, because carrying around a purse was much too bothersome.
She sat down her book and her earbuds at the place she's claimed—a two-person booth. She went up to the counter and ordered.
"Could I have fried bread and some scrambled eggs please?" she asked as she reached for her wallet.
"Sure thing. That should be ready in about five to ten minutes."
"All right," Tris said with a kind smile. "Thanks."
She sat down at her lonely booth, and then began reading her book. A giant book consisting of every single poem/short story by Edgar Allan Poe. Tris always loved those kind of books. She would get stuck in them, unable to pull herself away back into reality. Poems were what inspired her to become a songwriter.
So for the next hour and forty-five minutes, she read and ate her eggs and fried bread.
Around 1:45, she left for Tobias's hotel. It took a good ten minutes to walk there, so she enjoyed some music as she did so.
When she arrived, she found herself standing in front of Tobias's door, hesitant. She didn't know what to say, what to do… She found herself wondering what he'd look like when he opened that door. Would he be wearing a a plaid shirt like herself? A sweatshirt? Or maybe even a leather jacket? She definitely thought he'd like look mighty fine in a jacket like that.
Just before her knuckles reached the door, it swung open.
He looked up and was surprised. Then happy. "Tris."
He was wearing a black leather jacket with a shirt beneath it that read "Vans" with its signature logo.
"Um," she said, "Hi."
They stood there awkwardly.
Tris looked smiled, and then laughed, which caused Tobias to laugh along with her.
"Oh, hey, do you mind if I leave my book in your room? I'd prefer to not carry it around all day."
"Of course. I'll just set in on the desk."
When he cane back, he asked, "How are you?"
Tris smiled and nodded. "I'm all right. Yourself?"
He shrugged. "My day will get better."
"And why's that?"
Tobias smirked. "I'll be with you. And besides, it's not like my day could get any worse." Tobias closed his hotel room door and began walking. "I ran out of towels this morning. Then I burned my tongue on my coffee—which was disgusting, in case you were wondering—and my laptop charger decided to stop working. And you know what the worst part is? Room service ran out of orange juice! Do you know how much I love orange juice, Tris?"
Tris laughed. "No, but it sounds like you two are pretty serious."
He laughed. "I've drank orange juice every single day of my life since I was nine. Do you know that?"
"Do you know that I love orange juice because of the movie Notting Hill?"
He smiles. "I did not know that. A great movie though. Fantastic. My favorite chick-flick."
"So you frequent watching romantic comedies, huh?"
He shrugged. "It was only my mom and me when I grew up. She would constantly work and work and work… But when she wasn't working, she would always just relax and watch movies. We'd hang out downstairs, build forts, and just watch some of her favorite movies." He shrugged. "I miss it."
"You don't see her much anymore?"
He gave a sad smile. "She passed away about a year ago. Breast cancer."
Tris looked away. "Oh. God. I'm so sorry."
He masked the pain with another smile. "It's fine. I've already had my fair share of condolences. I don't need any more."
"Right. Got it. But if you ever need someone to build forts with and watch romantic comedies, just give me a call."
He chuckled. "I might take you up on that offer when we get back to America."
Tris laughed. "Well I'll have to get settled first in order to do that. You know, like, get a place to live so that I'm not an alley man. Or, um… don't you Americans call them hobbies, correct? No, no, I apologize. Hobos. You call them hobos."
Tobias laughed a hearty laugh. "Yes. We stupid Americans."
After a short pause, Tris says, "I know a great place just across from where I want to take you first. They have freshly squeezed orange juice so you can get your Calcium in."
He nodded. "Sounds good. But where are we even going today?" he asked inquisitively.
"Well, first we're going to that café. Then I planned on taking you to see Big Ben, and then the Tower Bridge. From there, we'll go to Hyde Park. Oh, and do you listen to The Beatles?"
He nodded. "I'm not a die-hard fan, but yeah, their music is pretty great."
"Okay. Then I will take you to the place where the iconic crosswalk photo was taken. After that, I think it'll be around dinnertime at seven o'clock. Then we can go to Barrafina—a great laid back restaurant/bar. It's fantastic. Anyway, after that, we go our separate ways, meet in the morning, and then discuss business over the flight. Sound good?"
He nodded again. "Sounds fantastic."
"And just so you know, I'm expecting you to give me a tour of New York when we arrive."
He laughed. "Got it. You've never been to the U.S.?"
She shook her head. "No, sir, but I am bloody excited to."
Tobias smirked. "You're cute when you're excited."
"Bloody hell, then I guess I'm always excited, aren't I?" Tris retorted.
He laughed. Tris remarked that his laugh was a nice one. It was not too manly or brawny, but obviously it wasn't feminine. He didn't snort or have an airy laugh. It was just a genuine laugh, and that was something she found hard to find those days.
"Your laugh is remarkable," Tris said. "In a totally non-creepy way."
He laughed yet again. "Well, despite having been told my laugh is weird and outlandish, I appreciate the compliment. However, something I do believe is that you have a rather melodic laugh yourself, Tris Prior."
"Well. Thank you, Tobias Eaton."
When they arrived at the place with freshly squeezed orange juice, Tris ordered them two, and then they sat down at a small booth for two.
"These are pretty cheap, huh?"
"I used my employee discount."
Tobias's eyebrows rose. "You work here?"
She smiled. "It's not like I exactly get paid for making Youtube videos, love."
He frowned. "Right. Sorry."
She shrugged. "It's okay. I've worked hard and paid my dues, and look where it's gotten me. Sippin' orange juice with an assistant music producer."
He smiled again. "You're in the big leagues now, Prior. Better get used to it."
After a moment of silence, Tris asked quietly, "Are they going to change me? Who I am?"
He shook his head. "They wanted a raw singer with genuine talent. Sure, they might dress you up in some stuff you're not used to, but you'll be fine."
"What—like Lady Gaga?" Tris laughed nervously.
He took a sip of his orange juice before answering. "No. Like… Jennifer Lawrence. Not too revealing, but still sexy. You'll be fine. You'll rock it."
A slight blush creeped onto Tris's face. "Thanks for the reassurance. But what if they don't like the original songs I've written? Will they hire a songwriter?"
He shook his head. "I'm fairly certain that your originals will be fantastic."
"How so?"
He shrugs, then stands up. "Everything else about you is amazing, so why not your writing?"
She laughs, and then she walks over to the trash can.
"Okay, so, Big Ben is just down the road, and, you know, once you've seen that, taken your pictures, etc., we'll do the same with the bridge."
Tobias nodded. "Let's do it."
"See you tomorrow morning."
"Until the morning."
Tris gently shut the door, and she heard Tobias's footsteps fading down the hall.
"Tris! What the hell? Where've you been? It's half past nine!"
She needed a moment to process. She just… she needed to calm down. She walked past Christina and walked into her room.
She just spent the entire day with a perfect man. A music producer. An orange juice lover. A man who made her feel… Well, important. And she would get to spend almost every day with him. How would she do it? How could she simply not tackle him with kisses? She knew it'd be hard to restrain herself.
And she knew it'd be hard for him. She could see the hunger in his eyes, and also the control.
But whatever it was, she knew it was the same thing she was feeling.
Christina followed her into her room, but didn't say anything.
"I'm going to America tomorrow."
Chris's eyes popped out of her head. "America?"
"America."
"Why?"
"Label."
"Label?" she exclaimed.
"Label."
"Oh my god," Chris said. "You're going to America, and you're getting a record deal. Bloody hell, my best friend is getting a record deal!"
Tris laughed. "I am."
"But this doesn't explain why you were out so late both yesterday and today."
"I was with a guy."
"A guy?"
"A guy."
"Who?"
"Tobias Eaton. He's with the music producing company. He's young, hot, and really funny. Today I was just giving him a tour of London. He will do the same in return when we arrive to New York. Anyhow, I leave tomorrow morning with him and I need to begin packing. I—"
"You leave tomorrow morning?" she interrupted. "When will I even be seeing you again?"
Tris sighed. "Good question. But hopefully before my album release party," she said with hopeful inflection.
Chris gave a sad smiles. "I'm really happy for you. But I'm going to miss you. And when you're rich, please remember me."
"How could I forget you, Chris?"
"Oh, and promise me that you won't be a fame whore. Please don't get caught up in all those lights and cameras."
"I won't, Chris. I promise."
"Okay. Good. From there, you're on your own I guess. I love ya, Tris."
"I love you too, Chris."
Tris could tell that she was about to cry, but she held it together.
"Um, let's pack," she said excitedly, while pretending there were no tears in her eyes.
"Yeah," Tris sighed with a tense smile. "Let's pack."