Disclaimer: Don't own Instant Star.
AN: I can't believe I got this done so soon. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter. It is kind of filler. Hope you like it.
Enjoy.
FOUR YEARS LATER:
Tommy made his way through the throngs of people—even freezing temperatures couldn't keep people from overflowing the sidewalks. Glancing from face to face, recognizing no one he stuffed his hands into his pockets just as his phone started to vibrate against his thigh.
Sighing deeply he raised the phone to his ear, "I said it once and I really don't want to say it again, but no. The answer is no. It doesn't matter how many times you ask me, the answer is always going to be no," he flipped his cell phone closed and smoothly slid it back into his pocket.
He checked his watch before stopping at the coffee stand on the corner.
"Tommy!" the man behind the counter smiled.
"Hey Chuck, just the regular," he glimpsed down at the magazine stand while waiting for his coffee and was unexpectedly stunned by the visage staring back at him.
"Black coffee to go," Chuck set the steaming hot coffee on the ledge in front of him.
Tommy blinked rapidly, quickly looking at Chuck, "I'll take one of these too," he slid the magazine out of its niche, slipping it under his arm and sliding Chuck a five dollar bill. Sipping his coffee slowly he made his way back out into the crowds where he could easily disappear from the rest of the world.
He rapidly made his way in the direction of his apartment, magazine still tucked under arm he quickly paced himself, rushing to get home before she did.
The elevator doors opened and he stepped out into the bitter lengthy vestibule, taking his keys out of his jacket pocket he gradually made his way towards his door and unlocked it with a stable hand. Sighing intensely he stepped into his apartment, pulling the magazine out from under his arm he examined the cover, absorbing every detail of the face he once knew so well.
He glanced up from the magazine and was taken aback by the girl sitting at the kitchen table, her eyes met his and she gave him a distressing smile.
"Hey B," he made his way towards the table, setting the magazine face down on the counter before taking a seat across from her.
He didn't even have to look at her to know what was coming. He considered it a flaw of his. After Jude, none of it really mattered. He always knew it was happening, even weeks before, but he never had the incentive to fix the problem beforehand because he knew in his heart that it was the right thing.
Bailey was his third 'serious' girlfriend in four years. Despondently he knew at the beginning of every relationship he started that it wasn't fair to even start another because in the end, someone was going to get hurt and it wasn't going to be him.
There was something exceptional about Bailey though because in all the relationships he had after Jude that just came and went, there was a very small part of him that essentially fell for Bailey. Somewhere deep within his heart he had fooled himself into thinking that this one was going to last. Sorrowfully he was only settling for the here and now because what he really wanted, he was never going to get.
"Hey," she was staring at him from across the table, her hands lightly folded in her lap.
He hastily glanced down at his own lap, his hands resting on the table in front of him, his head hanging low between his shoulders. He was trying his best not to look at her because he knew, "Don't," was all he could manage to get out.
"Don't?" She never took her eyes off of him, he was hiding something and she knew it.
"Just don't," he glanced up at her, his eyes meeting hers, his hands still latent on the table in front of him.
"Tommy—" she lifted her hands off her lap and reached across the table enveloping his hands in her own.
He responded by taking her small petite hands in his and rubbing the top of her soft palms with his thumbs. "Why? Just tell me why?" he shook his head.
"There's someone else," she rescinded her hands from his and put them back in her lap.
He swiftly slid his hands off the table, tilting his head to look at her, he never would have predicted, "Wh—who—who is he?" He blinked slowly not taking his eyes off her.
"I think I should be the one asking that."
"Excuse me?" He shook his head vigorously, "There is no one else and especially no he," he scoffed.
"Not a he… a she."
He couldn't stop shaking his head at her, "No… there is no one else." He glanced over at the counter where he had previously tossed the magazine he didn't want Bailey to see, then he turned his head towards the refrigerator, staring at the numerous magnets and pictures, any distraction at this point was welcomed.
"Tommy," she barely whispered, "Look at me."
His eyes were glued to the refrigerator, all the memories it held, of not just her, but preceding relationships as well.
"Look at me please," she pleaded.
He turned his head in her direction, barely making eye contact.
"There is someone else. Now you can deny it all you want. You can fool yourself into believing that there isn't. You can lie to yourself, but you can't lie to me Tommy… because I love you," she leaned back in her seat, sighing in relief that that was done and over with.
He broke eye contact and glanced back towards the fridge, "and I lo—" he was suddenly cut off by her.
"You don't have to say it back. And the truth is, I don't think you really do," she stood up from the chair she was sitting in and positioned herself in the chair to his left, closer to him, "I can see it in your eyes, when you look at me, you are looking straight through me. When your lips kiss mine, they are kissing someone else. When you make love to me, you trace the curves of my body with your eyes, but it's not me your tracing, it's her." She paused for a moment, gathering herself, trying to suppress the tears.
"Bailey," he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers.
"I know this because I love you Tommy and its okay that you don't love me back," she pulled away from him, looking into his eyes, the tears teeter-tottering on the brink of her eyelids.
"Bailey…" he was speechless. He was so sure that he had built his walls up so high that no one would see the true him. He wore the mask so well, certain that no one would see his deepest darkest secret, but she did.
"It is okay Tommy, really. I knew coming into this relationship that it was a one in a million chance that you would actually love me back. You're Tommy Q—you don't love just one woman. But it took me a little over a year to see that you do. Unfortunately that one woman just isn't me. I don't know who she is, but I do hope that you find her and you tell her, because if you love her that much, she deserves to know."
He looked up at her, examining her every inch, amazed that this woman was his for the past thirteen months and he never once took the time to see this sincerity in her. Only now that he was loosing her did he realize just how truly amazing she was.
"I've already packed my things—they are in my car and ready to go," she stood up from the kitchen table and placed the chair back where it belonged in his perfectly kept kitchen.
He glanced around the apartment and noticed all the little things that were missing here and there, nothing truly significant but enough for him to notice that it was different.
"You don't have to leave tonight," he too stood up with her, taking her hand in his once again.
"I'm afraid what will happen if I stay."
He gripped her hand tightly, a smile slightly spreading on his face in amazement at how true the woman was standing in front of him.
"I hope you find what you are looking for Tom," and with that she took back her hand, stopping when she noticed the magazine on the counter. She lifted it up in her hands turning it over to read the cover, "I never took you for a Glamour kind of guy. Jude Harrison sure is beautiful though isn't she?" She smiled, placing the magazine on the table in front of him, not realizing the face staring back at her from the cover was everything he had been wishing for since he lost it.
He nodded his head in agreement, "Bailey…" he quickly spat as she was halfway out the door.
She stopped dead in her tracks, turning around to look at him.
He walked up to her, placing a sincere heartfelt kiss on her cheek, "Thank you," he pulled away, "and I do love you," he reassured her.
She nodded her head "Just not how I love you," she turned and walked out the door, closing it gently behind her.
He ran his fingers through his hair before heavily sitting back down at the kitchen table. His eyes fell downwards where the familiar eyes on the cover of the magazine were staring back up at him.
If only she knew.
She had to know.
He had to tell her.
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