FARADAY KNOCKED on the door of room 208 impatiently, glancing down at his wristwatch with a furrowed brow. It was 8:36; the cocktail party had started nearly forty minutes ago! When the dapperly dressed young man had come knocking at 8 o'clock promptly, Scarlett had requested ten more minutes to get ready. Now, they were both running late.

The door suddenly flung open, making Faraday stumble slightly towards the inside of the room. An irritated looking Scarlett stood before him, dressed to the nines. "It's a fucking party, you don't have to be right on time," she reprimanded her escort, running her fingers through her blonde that she had meticulously straightened. Not that he would ever dare to say it out loud, but her hair looked exactly the same to him as it did a couple hours ago.

She had decided on a black, form-fitting party dress that complimented her athletic curves. If her mother was here, she'd be having a cow at the fair amount of cleavage she was sporting. Her black heels boosted her up to a whopping 5'3 frame.

"C'mon, you little diva, we're bound to be the last ones there," he grumbled and accepted her arm in his as they made their way down the hallway. Faraday had picked out a simple, yet elegant, outfit of black slacks and a dashing silk button-up.

They made their way down to the ballroom, filling the walk with idle chatter about the boxing community. It was their own little language that they were both familiar with.

"Gruber is just itching to get her hands on you again," Faraday rambled, eyeing his contestant in hopes of catching the familiar fire in her eyes. There was nothing for him.

"Maybe she gets ahold of your vacated title and you make your comeback with a-"

Scarlett slipped her arm out of his elbow and pressed her finger to his lips. He instantly stopped his fantasy and fixed her with a glare.

"Instead of talking about something that will never happen, how about we get some dranks?" She attempted to joke, hoping that being lighthearted would get her what she sought - a cocktail. She could see the bartender behind his station, and she could practically taste the alcohol from the door.

Faraday squirmed uncomfortably as he tried to put his foot down. "The whole point of this was to let your liver catch a breather," he nearly whispered through a smile, begging her not to do this in front of all these people.

Scarlett looked around her, evaluating how much damage she could do with a little outburst. The lights in the ballroom were dimmed to create a more intimate experience for the guests. It was about the size of a high school gym, but much fancier. The floors were made of hardwood, and there was a bar in the far corner. There were little tables on the outskirts of the dance floor to allow for conversation. There was a door that lead to the balcony, and since the snow and wind had died down considerably, it looked as if some guests had chosen to mingle out there. There was about fifty or so guests in the ballroom if Scarlett was estimating correctly.

Concluding that she could attract a respectable crowd if she needed to, Scarlett pressed her luck. "Yeah, I'm going to get that drink now," she shrugged carelessly as she brushed past Faraday.

"No!" He retaliated instinctively, grabbing onto her wrist to stop her. His shout had gathered the attention of some of the other guests who shot him weird glances. He let her wrist fall instantly and laughed as if they had only been playing. "Stop doing this," he whispered harshly as he walked briskly beside Scarlett.

As they approached the bar, Scarlett smiled warmly at the bartender. "Give me whatever your strongest drink is, and double it," she commanded lightly, and the bartender set about gathering the different liquors.

Faraday was growing frantic. He had been tasked to not let her drink a single drop of alcohol, and he was failing just a few hours in. "Scarlett Eve Parker, if you take one sip of that drink I will call your mother and have her pay for another week in this resort," he threatened with a hiss.

"Ooh, I'm really terrified," she quipped back, clearly unimpressed. The bartender returned with her drink, holding it out to her. It was dark and smelled like nail polish remover.

As Scarlett reached out to take it, Faraday childishly batted the glass from her hand. She didn't have a second to react before the entire drink spilled on the front of her dress and the glass shattered on the floor. Everyone in the ballroom turned to look at the commotion.

At first, there was tense silence between the two. Scarlett's face grew hot with anger as she sized up her coach. "Okay, now, I didn't wanna to do that, but you kinda forced my hand," he began spirting out words nervously, backing away slowly as she simply boiled. "Well, I guess you didn't literally force my hand, but you get the gist-"

"I need some air before I reach my hand down your grimy fuckin' throat and rip your balls up through your stomach," she spat with venom, seething as she stormed off towards the balcony.

Guests fixed Faraday with pointed glares as he chuckled nervously. "She's got such colorful language," he swallowed hard. "An insane imagination..."

—————

Tom was simply enjoying the peace and quiet of the balcony that night. For the last few months, his life had been busy and unrelenting. He had experienced a whirlwind of emotion, and he was really feeling the effects of it now.

From all of the online articles to his friends in his daily life constantly prying, his recent breakup had thrown the Brit for a loop.

Today, he had made the decision to check himself into the Pine Grove Resort. He didn't have an alcohol or drug issue, but rather preferred to just fall off the grid for a little while. He needed to disconnect from society to find himself again.

That's why Tom was in bliss on the balcony that night. It was brisk, but his suit jacket kept him warm enough. The stars were excellent company to balance out his thoughts. Every time his thoughts strayed towards her, he gazed up at the stars and attempted to find a new constellation.

He was attempting to piece together Ursa Major when he heard footsteps behind him. He was leaning against the railing with his forearms propping him up, so he easily tossed a glance back to see who had come stumbling out into the cold. It was that woman from the lobby earlier; the one who had nodded to him when he caught her staring.

Part of him hoped she would find her way back inside without bothering him, but another part of him wished she would talk to him. Anything was better than thinking of her.

To Tom's despair - or maybe his wish was granted - the woman leaned up against the railing, though she kept a respectable distance. She smelled heavily of alcohol. Tom didn't intend to pry, so he went back to looking at the sky.

"Do you think you could do me a favor?" The woman asked him suddenly, her voice laced with rigidness. She didn't seem as intoxicated as she smelled.

"I'll do my best," Tom replied with a small smile, shifting his shoulders so he faced her.

The blonde smiled back, relieved. "Could you go to the bar and order me a drink? I can give you the money, it's just that my...my -"

"It seems complicated," he summed it up for her, and she nodded in agreement. As she began rooting around in her small handbag, Tom shook his head. "I'll be right back," he promised her, slipping back indoors.

Scarlett stood by herself and set her gaze upon the moon. Maybe Scott was looking at that same moon.

She groaned audibly at the thought. Damn him. How had she let him apply such a chokehold on her life? He was probably in some California night club with some blonde bimbos grinding on him right about now; here she was in some frosty hellhole on a mountain, begging a stranger to buy her something to take the edge off because her mom gave her a glorified babysitter.

Maybe she needed to be up here. Then again, maybe she just needed to be left alone to figure it all out.

As she mentally assessed her life, Tom reappeared on the balcony with two creme colored mugs in his hands. Steam whirled out of the tops of the glasses like white fingertips. He offered one to a suspicious looking Scarlett.

"Hot chocolate?" She asked as he slid the warm mug into her cold hands. It wasn't what she was hoping for, but she wasn't too upset to see the drink of her childhood.

"I find that a lot of adults seem to forget about cocoa, which is a shame because it really is quite delicious," Tom justified his decision with a warm, but tired, smile. He went back to leaning on the railing, but he stood a tad closer to the stranger. "I'm Tom, by the way," the Brit introduced himself. "Tom Hiddleston."

"I'm Scarlett Parker," the boxer replied after taking a swig of her drink. She furrowed her brows as his name swirled in her head. It seemed quite familiar. "Are you famous for something? Your name..." She trailed off in thought. It was one of those moments where it was on the tip of her tongue.

Tom shook his head. "I'm just a guy named Tom," he attempted to be humble and conceal his career. He didn't want it to follow him here.

"A British guy named Tom," Scarlett emphasized from behind her toasty mug with a playful grin. It seemed to be an American tradition to be fascinated by any accent unfamiliar to them.

Tom raised his brow and quirked up the corner of his lips in an amused smile. "If you would rather speak to an American," he trailed off, though his British accent was replaced with a soft American accent that was familiar to Scarlett. If he would have introduced himself as American, she never would have known otherwise.

"You've got to be an actor or something," Scarlett insisted.

"Just a few small films, nothing that you would see at your local cinema," he lied smoothly, bringing the mug to his lips. The drink was warm and creamy.

There was silence between them as they sipped their mugs and stared up at the night sky. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather a content understanding that both people were okay with the other's presence.

"Did you come by yourself, Tom?" Scarlett inquired.

Tom broke his second attempt to trace Ursa Major to answer her. "No, my friend Mark decided to accompany me," he replied, deciding to leave out the details of Mark's last name to help conceal his career.

"Well, I hope I'll see you and this Mark guy at breakfast tomorrow. Faraday ruined this party for me, so I think I'm going back to my room to shower the smell of booze off," she chuckled and finished draining the drink in her mug. She was being honest when she said she was going back upstairs to go to bed - she was tired from the jet lag and her feet were already beginning to hurt.

Tom nodded in understanding and went back to looking at the stars. "I would be delighted to see you at breakfast," his reply seemed almost rehearsed, as if he had said it a thousand times before. Scarlett concealed her frown and suddenly felt like she had intruded on his night.

"Goodnight, Mister Hiddleston," she murmured quietly, tucking a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ear self-consciously. "Thanks for the cocoa," she was sure to add before briskly walking back inside.

Tom looked back at the door with a quizzical frown. She seemed a little upset when she left. Had he done something wrong?

He sighed. He would add that to the list of all his other recent screw-ups.

—————

@thescarlettparker has posted a new image!

first night at pine grove ✅
met this cool guy named tom who brought me some hot chocolate. shoutout to actor tom from england 💂🏻‍♂️

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user682: wait wait wait tom??? from england?? an actor like tom hiddleston??
↳ user76: could be tom holland 🕵🏼‍♀️
↳ user793: noooo it's gotta be hiddles!!! holland is filming in American right now 🕵🏼‍♀️🕵🏼‍♀️

user235: yaaaas queen come thru with the panda onesie

user083: why do you have a broom in the pic??? #thegreatbroomconspiracy
↳ thescarlettparker: i dropped crackers on the floor & had to sweep them up #conspiracycracked
↳ user083: OMG YOU REPLIED
↳user083: YAS QUEEN SWEEP

user35: omg did you drink hot cocoa with the legendary tom hiddleston???

used89: i'm here bc my friend promised me hiddles content

user586: sis if you're hanging out with tom hiddleston YOU BETTER GIVE US THE RECEIPTS