SCARLETT SPENT THE rest of her second day at Pine Grove locked in her room. After the breakfast showdown, she had no desire to walk around the resort. The paparazzi had followed her up to her room after the blowout and knocked on the door for what seemed like hours, attempting to get a statement from her on Tonya's arrival. They eventually gave up and began to dissipate, per the resort's demand.

Still, even with the unwanted photographers gone, she remained in her room under a mountain of blankets. She was unable to draw her attention away from social media. Her fans were arguing with Tonya's fans over the results of the third fight and whether the morning surprise was justified. Strangers wrote articles about how she had been spending the past couple weeks of her life. These reporters fabricated lies about her financial stability and created fake romances between her and Faraday, although new speculations about her and Tom were popping up.

Oh, Tom. She felt terribly that he got dragged into the mess. Scarlett knew he had just gotten out of a breakup, and these accusations probably didn't help his situation. It was all utterly ridiculous - they had only arrived here yesterday! Her and Tom had only spoken twice, and he was just being civil in both cases. It was unfair that people were painting him as some sleezebag in search of a rebound.

Tired of looking at the same thing over and over again, Scarlett tossed her phone beside her and pressed the heels of her hands into her temples.

How did everything get so messy?

—————

There was a knock at the door that caused her to raise a brow. No one had knocked on her door for hours. She checked the clock - it was 8:32 at night.

Scarlett waited for the knocker to identify themselves. She wasn't about to invite some eager journalist inside her space.

"Hey, princess, it's me," the familiar voice of Faraday called to her. Scarlett breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't seen her manager since this morning, and she was glad to see a familiar face. "I brought you some dinner!"

Scarlett hopped out of bed and crossed the floor quickly, undoing the locks before opening the door. Her friend was in the hallway in a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts, a tray of covered food in his hands. She laughed at his misseasoned attire and stepped aside to invite him into the room.

Faraday entered and sat the tray on the nearby counter, turning to examine his girl. "Let me see the damage," he murmured, grabbing her by the shoulders and holding her out at arms length. Scarlett rolled her eyes lovingly as he looked her over. Faraday noted her tired eyes and slouched shoulders. The woman looked tired beyond belief - mentally and physically.

"C'mere," he grumbled, pulling her into his chest and enveloping her in a protective, tight hug. She hesitated to hug him back just for a second before burying her face in his chest and squeezing him back. As much as they bickered, they both cared deeply for each other. That's what happened when you spend that much time together pursing the same dream.

They stood like that for a second, not saying anything.

"You gonna be okay?" Faraday murmured, his height advantage allowing him to rest his chin lightly on the top of her head. He could feel her nod in response.

"I wanna go home," she spoke quietly into his shirt, voice shaking with the anxiety that she had buried. "I don't want to be around her. I just want to go home, I want it to be over-"

She was nearly hysterical now, her breathing ragged and hot against Faraday's chest as the tears came. Scarlett pulled him impossibly closer in an attempt for comfort, but it wasn't coming. He attempted to shush her and rubbed a hand around her back in slow strokes.

The manager pulled away a little bit and grabbed her face in his warm hands, swiping away tears with his thumb as he brought her eyes up to his. "Hey," he said sternly yet quietly. "I'll take you home tomorrow, okay? There's no reason to keep you around the she-devil," he shot annoyed daggers at the wall that connected her to Tonya's room.

When Faraday looked back, he was gazing at her wide, dewey eyes. He felt like the wind had been knocked out of his chest. It was stunning to see such raw emotion in her eyes.

He remembered every second of their training, their late night bar crawls, their strategizing. He recalled every second that he wanted her. Faraday knew she wasn't emotionally stable right now - at least, not in the way to make a decision in this moment. He wouldn't pressure her, not now, not ever.

Faraday sharply broke the contact - dropping his hands and redirecting his gaze to his shoes - and cleared his throat.

"Anyways, I'm going to go pack," he excused himself, turning on his heels and breaking for the door. He didn't say goodbye or anything before slipping out into the hallway, leaving Scarlett alone with her dinner. The confused woman wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand and sniffles sharply.

Her stomach growled as a reminder that she hadn't eaten since the morning, and she eagerly gravitated towards the tray. He had brought her some of her favorites - chicken strips, cheese fries, chocolate cake; all foods that were definitely restricted from her boxing diet. She smiled tenderly. Good ol' Faraday.

Except he had forgotten her drink. She wasn't exactly bothered, however, as she remembered seeing a vending machine at the end of the hallway. Scarlett scrounged around in her purse and dug out a few singles and stuffed on her slippers before slipping out into the hall. It was empty, which she was grateful for.

She arrived at the vending machine, perusing over her choices. She settled on Fanta, slipping her bills in and pressing the buttons. After a little rumbling, the machine spit out her soda and she grabbed the cold drink, ready to return for her dinner. Except when she turned around, there was another person in the hall.

All the way at the other end of the hallway, Scarlett could make out Mark's figure. He was standing in front of a room door, hands stuffed into his pockets. He seemed to be through the door, but Scarlett couldn't make out the words.

"Did you lock yourself out?" She called to him from down the hall, unsure how he felt towards her after this morning. Mark looked at her, then to the door, and started to make his way towards her.

Once he drew closer, she saw the tiredness on his face. "Tom's locked himself in his room since the articles started coming out. I'm worried Taylor might have said something, but he won't come and get dinner or anything." Mark sounded worried, his gray brows knitted together in concern. He looked over his shoulder at the door, seemingly hoping that Tom would emerge with a big smile and a laugh and suggest grabbing dinner. He did no such thing.

A stone seemed to find a home in her stomach. This was her fault. She felt sick and guilty and terrible. She shifted uncomfortably and swiped a strand of hair behind her ear.

Mark noticed her reaction and patted her shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up about it, you couldn't have known."

"Do you think he would come out if I tried speaking to him?" Scarlett blurted out, looking up to Tom's friend with hopeful eyes.

Mark pondered it for a moment. "Honestly, I don't think he would come out for anyone," he broke the news softly, appreciative of her thought. "But it couldn't hurt, I suppose."

Scarlett's face lit up slightly at the challenge. Mark looked a little tired, so she was glad to give him a break. "Yeah, I'll go grab a dinner for him and try to coax him out! You can go grab a shower or something-"

"You think I'm dirty?" Mark interjected seriously.

Scarlett froze and choked on her words, unable to respond.

"I'm kidding," Mark chuckled and punched her shoulder. Scarlett laughed with him. "Good luck, kid," he wished her kindly before making his way towards his own room. Once she was left alone, the woman made her way towards the elevator, disregarding her own dinner that had been brought to her.

She wasn't sure what to get him once the decision needed to be made. She glanced over the dinner options and pointed questionably to an assortment of dishes. By the time it was all said and done, she had bought three different meals that totaled up to nearly fifty dollars.

"Anything to drink?" The cashier asked her dully.

Scarlett thought on it for a moment before she beamed. "Yeah, I'll be needing a drink for the meal, as well."

—————

Tom was distraught. He was curled up in bed in his boxers and a tee shirt, unable to decide what to do. Today's events had created such an unexpected hurdle.

He glanced at his phone once again, re-reading the text for the millionth time. He could almost recite it from memory.

—
TEXT MESSAGES
Taylor
12:02 PM

Taylor
Tom. I'm really upset by what
I saw online today. I thought
more of you. I thought that
we might be able to talk
this out, but it seems that
you're only interested in
who is going to be your
rebound. Have a nice life.
Read at 12:15 PM

—

Tom was aware how acutely guilty his silence made him look, but there wasn't an easy response to that. He was just in disbelief. He hadn't spoken to Taylor since the breakup, and he wasn't even aware that a makeup was on the counter. Had that been his move to initiate?

The accusations were flimsy and unbelievable. The rumors of him and Miss Parker - they had just met yesterday and people already thought they were shagging? Did people truly think so little of him? Tom had never been anything but a gentleman to the women he courted, and the thought of a rebound made him sick. His friends and family would be reading that tabloid. He hoped they wouldn't think less of him.

He dropped the phone and rolled over on his side, curling tighter into the blanket as his chest felt tight. He found it was easier to breathe when he deprived all his senses.

He dwelled in the silence between his breaths, finding peace in his own heartbeat. He was determined to cut her out of his damned heart, no matter how much of his own blood he spilled in the process.

If their love had been a color, what would it have been? Tom pondered to himself. Would it have been red like fire, tumultuous and feverish? Green with envy, seeking the normalcy of what others have? Would it be yellow? Scared of commitment, scared of a world where they were the only options. Would it be white - purely honest with itself and with each other? Would it be black? Cold and dead and empty. A void that absorbed all his time and love and devotion. Would it be blue and calm, an easy kind of love? A love that flows like water, filling every crack in a broken heart.

Honestly, it had been all of them, sometimes all at the same time. And for the millionth time that day, Tom felt his shell breaking and cracking beyond repair to the point where his chest was heaving and his tears were hot and slick on his face. He squeezed the blanket as tightly as he could to help alleviate the pressure in his head.

There was a knock at the door. Tom didn't even bother sitting up - it was probably Mark asking him to eat again. He wasn't hungry - not tonight.

"Hey, Tom?" The female voice on the other side of the door was cautious, even frightened. Tom looked at the door, but didn't make much of a move. He wiped his face with his hand and tried to quiet himself. "It's me, Scarlett."

Tom frowned at her name and turned in the bed, putting his back to the door. He didn't have anything against her personally, but he didn't want to be seen with her. Not for a while, anyways. It was best to let the rumors die.

"Anyways," her slightly muffled voice continued on. She sounded hopeful. "I brought you dinner! Mark said he couldn't get you to eat, so I thought maybe I could!"

There was a slight pause. "Not that I am any different than Mark! I mean, of course I'm different than Mark - I'm a woman! That's not saying that you're more likely to do something if a woman tells you to —"

There was more silence as Scarlett decided to end her rambling. Tom was smiling slightly at her blundering. There was that rugged American charm.

"I'm sorry, Tom," she sighed in defeat, her voice growing so quiet that Tom had to sit up in bed just to hear. "I never meant for this to happen. If it makes you feel any better, I'm leaving tomorrow. That way you can enjoy the rest of your vacation!" She perked up slightly at the end, but that made Tom frown. He didn't want her to leave, but maybe that was best.

She seemed to be waiting for his response, but he didn't have one to give. He could hear her shuffling around a bit and the clinking of silverware.

"I'm just gonna go now. It was nice meeting you, Tom."

He could hear her footsteps fade, and he waited for a moment before getting up to check what she had left. When he opened the door and looked down at the tray, he couldn't help but laugh.

Then, Tom smiled.

—————

@twhiddleston posted a new photo!

Apology accepted, @thescarlettparker.

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user157: omg these rumors better not be true

user827: ummmmmm taylor is quaking

user268: thanks @thescarlettparker for taking care of our manz when he needs it

thescarlettparker: thank you 💚💚 (these are platonic hearts, people)