Kyle stepped out onto the street and suddenly stared into a blinding set of headlights. In a split second he heard the breaks of the car screeching, felt a body hit him and arms roughly grab and shove him away...a loud cracking thud echoes behind him.
He hit the ground roughly, wind knocked out and a searing pain created stars in his eyes as he landed on his arm and side, luckily avoiding hitting his head too hard.
People were yelling and screaming. Why were they screaming?
Hands grabbed him again and an unknown face stared down at him, asking if he was alright. How would he know if he didn't even know what just happened?
There had been a voice, calling his name...it had seemed so distant and unreal, but then he realized whose voice it was.
Tom.
Where was Tom?
All of sudden his heart stopped as he looked at his surroundings and saw the car's front side dented and stopped halfway in the middle of the intersection. Several people were rushing towards a prone figure several yards away...limbs askew...unmoving...
Oh God.
He scrambled to get up and push away the hands of the stranger holding him back, telling him to stop. Kyle couldn't breathe. He stumbled the last few feet, pushing people away as he knelt at Tom's broken form.
"Tom?" his voice trembled.
A shaking hand reached out to touch Tom's arm. He wasn't moving...wasn't opening his eyes...why wasn't he opening his eyes? Kyle would have given anything in that moment to see Tom look at him the way he had when he serenaded him only just the night before.
"Please open your eyes...Tom?" He gripped at Tom's jacket.
"Please...please wake up..." Kyle's vision grew cloudy with his tears as he begun to break down. Sirens blared and he felt hands tugging him back.
"No! Please...Tom!"
A blanket wrapped around him, arms pulled him away and he felt that in losing sight of Tom his whole world has finally broken to tiny, unfixable pieces.
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A light shone in his eyes as the paramedic began to examine him. It snapped Kyle out of his hysteria, reminding him too much of the lights he had seen only minutes ago.
"No sign of concussion...can you tell me your name? Where are you hurt?"
"Kyle...I nee-"
"Okay Kyle, folks said you landed on your side? Let me take a look at your arm."
Kyle struggled, wanting to get back to Tom. "I'm fine—Tom...I need to see..."
"Hey, sit still...Tom is his name? Are you friends? Do you know his last name?"
Kyle gulped and nodded. The arms held him down firmly. "Levitt. His last name's Levitt. Look, I need to see him!"
"Calm down...he's pretty badly hurt, and they're loading him up now. You can ride with him, but we need to get him wheeled in first. Can you tell me your full name, Kyle?"
"It's Kyle Bishop...Oh God...is he...is he gonna be okay?" Kyle's eyes teared up at the realization that the still form he saw moments ago wasn't dead. That Tom was still alive.
"We'll do our best. Looks like he's in, let's get you up there and settled. You can sit next to him if you'd like. The paramedic in the back is going to ask you some more questions, is that okay?"
Kyle nodded numbly and let the man lead him to the ambulance.
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The next morning Julia and Scott sat down at a cafe near his apartment. She handed Scott papers from her bag, looking solemn.
"What's this?" He asked, scanning through the papers.
" A declaration of war from Tom. It's a move to dissolve our partnership."
"Really?"
"It lists every name of every title we have ever optioned...including Gatsby."
Scott raised an eyebrow at this, both surprised and upset by Julia's news. "So he's gonna tie it up for months, so you can't do it?" He shook his head, brows furrowed. "For him to move this fast, he must be really angry."
"Well, don't worry. I'm gonna fight it." She responds empathetically.
Scott looked at her, expression wary and guarded. "Good, 'cause I need you to...If I pull this play, I'll lose my job."
"I know." Julia met his gaze steadily.
He sighed. "Look at this...Right back where we were, my fate—in your hands."
"...Not mine, Tom's." She corrected.
"You will talk to him, right? Reason with him?" He looked at Julia, trying to hide his growing anxiety as she replies.
"Look, I may have burned you, but I'm not gonna do it again. And I won't let Tom do it either." She promised, a determined look on her face.
Still...Scott was worried at the damage Tom's apparent wrath might inflict if the two creative partners came to blows. He would just have to wait and see how successful Julia would be, then go from there. His job, no...his entire career was at stake, there was no point in making quick decisions until he knew how things would play out.
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Eileen was furious. Not only did Julia skip out on the Bombshell meeting (which she was honestly not that surprised by given her track record and the recent drama going on between her and Tom) but Tom had been absent as well, rare for the overly passionate composer turned director. Tom had a nasty habit of oversleeping, but she had always known him to be reasonably on time. To not show up at all that morning was strange, and a small sense of worry lurked in the back of her mind. After Ivy and her mother had left, she sat at her desk, picking up her phone.
A few minutes later she set it down with a huff. Neither Tom nor Julia had answered their phones. She could guess where Julia was, most likely down at that run-down studio with Derek helping their potential rivals, but Tom...maybe he'd simply overslept, or his phone had died...perhaps he come down with a cold? It was still winter, and entirely likely with the amount of work he had done covering not just the role of director but tasks supposed to have been completed by Julia as the writer.
She'd go to theater before their afternoon rehearsal and confront him there. They couldn't let their guard down now, not with the OCC and Tony awards coming up. Speaking of which, she had some media and press things to see to...
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Derek and Karen arrived at the studio exhausted but both looked forward to Sam's intro session as the male lead, despite the drama caused by the early morning run-in with Jimmy. The small group of dancers and stage crew milled about, faces perking up at the arrival of their director and lead actress. Sam walked up to them off the stage, looking excited. He clapped his hands together, giving them a classic flashy grin.
"Good morning, good morning, ready to start?"
Derek huffed and grumpily stalked away into the back stage area, but Karen smiled at him. "Hey Sam. We're ready to start when you are."
Derek returned with papers in hand, seemingly looking around for something. He checked his watch, craggy face scrunching into a classic scowl.
"Where's Kyle? I thought he'd be in the back office getting ready...has he even arrived yet? He's the one who insisted on this bloody call time." He looked to his assistant sitting up in the stands, and she shook her head and shrugged.
"He hasn't come in yet."
Derek threw up his hands in frustration. "First Jimmy, now Kyle...why do I even bother working with these amateurs-" he grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket and dialed Kyle's number.
Upon hearing voice mail, he looked at his phone in disgust, shutting it and putting it back in his pocket, grumbling to himself. Looking around, he ignored Karen and Sam's concerned looks as he clapped his hands loudly, getting the attention of everyone in the room.
"Alright people, let's get to work!"