Made of Glass

“No, I can’t stay here and hold her, tomorrow act like I don’t know her”

“Tom, wait, it’s not what you think!” Harrison shouted after Tom, but he already hurried out the bedroom door feeling sick to his stomach at what he had just seen.

“Wait, Tom, please just listen to me!” Harrison called, again his best mate about to run out of the apartment. His hand paused on the doorknob trembling from his wild emotions running through him. He turned his head towards Haz, his jaw clenched and displayed his sharp jawline.

“I’m listening. If you try and feed me any bullshit, I’m out of here in less than a second,” Tom flatly stated, hand still gripping the exit tightly.

Y/N awoke at the feeling of no longer being curled up with Haz. The loud yelling only confused her even more. Her head swiveled to the door, and she spotted her favorite flowers scattered on her bedroom floor. Her heart pounded as the realization of what was happening set in along with the panic.

“No, Tom…” she whispered, to herself as she quickly pulled herself out of bed. Her head was still pounding from a severe hangover.

“Tom, sh-she was talking crazy on the phone, and I didn’t know what happened. I was worried, so I came over. I tried calling you, mate, all the way here, but you didn’t answer; I was even more worried. I got here, I saw the broken glass, and her drunk off her ass. So, I helped her get to her room. That was it; I swear, we just fell asleep,” Haz blurted out. His voice clearly shaken and laced with honesty. He hoped that his friend would believe him. Tom’s eyes averted his gaze and angrily glared at the floor throughout the explanation. She was supposed to be his; the thought of anyone besides him sleeping next to her, especially the person he trusted the most, hurt like a knife in the back.

“Tommy, it’s true,” Y/N voice wavered, sending another shock of heartache through Tom. He slowly lifted up his chin and met her eyes. She let out a soft gasp seeing Tom’s bloodshot eyes filled with water. Even though his abrupt departure the night before caused her a world of pain, she never wanted to make him feel the same way he did to her. In his mind, that’s exactly why she called up Harrison. To make him hurt the way she did. The thing was, his reaction to her confession was just a way to blow off steam; he would never have left them like that for long. Yet, she had no way of knowing that.

“Fuck you both. None of those sentences had the words ‘I’m sorry’ in them. Which, by the way, Y/N, is what I came here to say. I can see you already moved on. You say you love me but have a funny way of showing it. I see now that you weren’t lying; that was just the alcohol talking. We agreed to no strings; congratulations for really fucking taking that to heart,” Tom sarcastically ripped into her fragile heart. Her chin trembled, and she felt her entire body uncontrollably shake from the harsh words he threw at her seemingly without pity.

“Yo-you left, and you said you didn’t give a shit. S-so why do you suddenly act like you c-care?!” she retaliated. Harrison shifted uncomfortably in the background wondering if there was a right time for him to step in.

“Suddenly? Suddenly? From the very beginning, all I’ve done is care for you. I never meant it when I said it was just sex. The very minute I need some space to comprehend us, you fuck everything up because you’re so needy you can’t be alone for a minute without calling my person. You two assholes deserve each other. Glad I could bring you together,” he furiously fought back, and without another look, he left them to deal with the aftermath.

Y/N braced herself against the wall and tried to calm herself. Her heart was beating out of control, and she couldn’t breathe. She slid down to the floor and attempted to gain control over her breathing, quietly repeating “it’ll be okay.”

Harrison looked back and forth between the open door and the girl having an anxiety attack a few steps away from him. He knew his loyalty was with Tom, but after spending the night with her, he felt if he left now then it would all be for nothing. He ran both hands through his ruffled hair and knew he had to do what he felt was right.

“It will be okay. Okay? I’m going after him; I know him better than anyone, and I know he’s waiting for me to come after him. I’ll try to get him to calm down, so we can reason with him. Just, please, don’t give up on him yet,” Harrison pleaded with her, and she managed to nod her head in response. Harrison took that as his cue it was okay for him to leave. So, he rushed out and chased after Tom knowing the fate of his friendship was at stake.

“Tom!” he called, after finally spotting his friend running down the street.

Surprisingly, he stopped.

“Haz- I’m sorry mate. I know that you were just trying to make the situation better. It was just an impossible situation in the first place. I-I’m just really fucking hurt, okay?” Tom’s bottom lip trembled. Harrison rarely saw Tom cry unless it was on set. His fake tears were powerful and believable, but his real ones were for lack of a better word: incredible. It even set off a reaction in Haz. Haz bit back his lip as he felt his eyes fill with tears in response to the hurt he saw Tom in. The guilt was too much to bear, and he wished with every bone in his body that he would have made a decision that Tom would approve of.

“No, I am. I am so, so sorry. Please, let me make it up to you; take it out on me. Hit me, kick me, punch me in the face! I deserve it,” he begged, wishing anything could take away the guilt he felt. Tom just looked at him with his jaw dropped. He was shocked that Harrison set aside all of his ego; he knew how truly sorry he was.
“I don’t need to do that to you; we’re good,” he finally convinced his friend.

Tom gave him his classic side smirk and held up his hand signaling he wanted a high-five. They both went for it at the same time and awkwardly missed each other's hands like they always managed to do. Laughing, Harrison just pulled him in for a quick hug instead. He was more than relieved to have his friend back.

The next morning, Y/N anxiously checked her phone repeatedly, waiting to see if she would get a text from Harrison about Tom. Nervous energy filled her as she saw the notification, and she clicked on it without hesitation.

1 new message from Harrison Osterfield:

“Tom and I are good now- think he regrets yesterday, gonna bring it up to him on set today”

She smiled at those words, re-reading the message over and over at least 20 times. She imagined that hopefully, by the end of the day they could meet up and he would apologize and maybe now that things were out in the open: have an actual relationship. She fell backward into her bed, arms wide in a stretch, a smile still plastered on her face. Maybe today would be a good day, she just needed to trust Harrison and keep a positive mindset.

She got up and went to her closet, and picked out Tom’s favorite: a loose, light pink sweater and white skirt. She blushed at the memory of the way his eyes lit up when he first saw her; he had that way of looking at her that made her feel like the only girl in his world. She had felt so lucky to have someone to care enough for her to have such a dreamy look in his eyes.

The memory kept replaying in her head, brightening her mood on her way to the coffee shop near her she always stopped in the morning before class. She thought of the time the morning after when she took Tom along with her, dressed in a “disguise” and they surprisingly weren’t caught. He had then walked her to her writing class, commenting on how proud he was of her creativity and her work. He had begged for her to let him see what she was working on once she said it was about him, but she had told him to be patient. Like always, he tried to change her mind by giving her his classic pouty face.

A loud series of screams broke her train of thought, and stepping into the shop, she looked to see what it was all about. Her breath hitched and her palms moistened with sweat once she spotted him.

Tom was picking up coffee, looking amazing in his favorite flannel she had cuddled with him in more than once. A few fans had surrounded him, and she could tell he was happy to see them and interact with them. He felt her stares and looked up to meet her eye contact. Seeing his favorite sweater, he began to smile at her, but before he let himself, his face flashed into something darker. She stepped back a little, and his eyes hardened and glazed over as if he never even noticed her in the first place. He said his goodbyes and headed towards her, towards the door. She felt frozen to her spot, immovable. He was just a few steps away and she opened her mouth to say something, but no words came to her mind, so she awkwardly stood there gaping at him. He paused for a second as he was right beside her, but he didn’t turn to look at her. He stared straight ahead, and without another moment to spare, he just walked away.

Her smile faltered. All hope that he would rekindle what they had diminished. Did he really just walk past her like she meant nothing, she thought. She felt incredibly stupid and naive. How fucking naive, she whispered to herself. Behind all the cameras and fame, she had been there for him. She was always there, no questions asked, even when times were rough for him. It was always more than just sex, and even if it was just that, she still would have expected at the very least a nod of acknowledgment. He never, ever posted anything about her, not like she ever expected that from him, but she still felt hurt that he never claimed her openly. She was just there behind the scenes, providing him relief and happiness, but only when it was beneficial to him. Tom wanted her to always be available to him whenever he wanted, and she had always complied out of love and respect for him. Now, standing in the coffee shop, totally rejected, it all came crashing down like one hard blow of air to a house of cards. They were already fragile; they were made of glass, just asking to be broken. All in one swift moment, one casual blow off, he had wounded her and their relationship broke into pieces like a shattered wine glass on her kitchen floor. It seemed like such a trivial thing, such a stupid way to break. So anti-climatic. A waste of passion. In fact, passionless.
Storming out of there, she made sure to remember the feeling of this moment. How betrayed and used she felt; she was the unseen hand to his brilliance. But she wouldn’t feel sorry for herself. The only thing she could do was keep doing what she did every day. That wouldn’t be difficult. Because living her life wasn’t difficult. But seeing him walk past her like only a week before she hadn’t been coaxing him after a stressful day of filming, wasn’t simple.

He left her. Officially, that wasn’t just difficult. The pain was unbearable.

Y/N sighed as she closed her laptop, done writing for the night. She felt she wrote the best when she was going through pain; it was honest writing.

She looked at the wine bottle Tom had gotten for them, to celebrate and drink for the moment she finished her piece. Fuck that, she thought, opening the bottle, chugging it despite the burning in the back of her throat. Minutes later, she had finished and tears spilled down her cheeks. This was not the celebration she imagined. It wasn’t the same without someone there to support her.

She picked up her phone and her finger hovered over Tom’s number, imagining what would be the consequences of drunk dialing him. She scrolled past on her thumb landed on Haz’s contact. Despite the voice in her head telling her no, she ignored it and craved his company so it wouldn’t hurt being alone anymore.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” he questioned, concerned. She laughed sarcastically at his question.

“Okay? No. Tell me how I’m supposed to be okay when he acts like he doesn’t know me? Me. I’m done though, Haz, I am doneee,” she slurred out.

“Just calm down, I’m sure he didn’t mea-” he tried to reason but she cut him off.

“He knows exactly what he means. His message was received, loud and clear. But I said I’m done. Now get your ass over here, already,” she teased.

“I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea…” he worried.

“He’s done with me, I’m done with him. That’s not complicated, it’s simple. Why are you making it complicated? He doesn’t own you, and he doesn’t own me,” she pointed out to him.

Haz hung up the phone. He threw it a few feet away from him, trying to put her off of his mind. He could have any other girl, he knew that he shouldn’t go for her. But she was right. They were both their own people, Tom couldn’t tell either of them not to be together when he wasn’t with her anymore.

Within fifteen minutes, he found himself knocking on her door, hair dripping from the rain that had poured down on him the whole way to her house.

She opened her door and at the sight of him, she wasted no time pulling him inside. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she jumped into his arms. They moved fast and didn’t spare any time to think about what they were doing.

He backed her up against the wall and she pressed her chest into his, not breaking the kiss as she pulled his shirt over his head. She smirked as she ran her hands across his chiseled physique, his hair dripping water onto her forehead, leaving small trails of rainwater to fall down her cheeks. Harrison’s strong hands gripped the outsides of her thighs, lessening the space between them further.

“Haz, take me to my room,” she commanded between each heated kiss. He broke away to flash her a quick smile and he nodded. She squealed as he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her to her bed. He threw her down onto it and was on top of her in a heartbeat, ripping her flimsy shirt in half as he leaned over her to trail kisses down her neck, down her stomach, to her upper thigh. He pulled down her leggings, and she grinned, excited that he made her feel so special and wanted. He stopped as he looked down at her, mesmerized by her body and how amazing she was. He appreciated everything she was and everything she wasn’t.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he clarified, making her feel dizzy as his sparkly, light eyes looked fixedly at hers.

“I’m absolutely certain this is what I want.”

Tom scrutinized Harrison as he noticed his best friend avoided eye contact with him, acting so strange to him. He reached his arm out to grab his bicep, forcing Harrison to stop and look back at him. As soon as Tom looked into his eyes, he knew Haz was keeping something from him. Something big.

“What aren’t you telling me?” he grilled Haz. Haz looked away again, hesitating.

“It’s nothing, well it should be. She said you guys were done, and-”

“What?” Tom spat.

Harrison shakily looked once again back up at him. Tom gaped at him, not believing what he was hearing and seeing.

“You- you and her…” Haz just nodded in response.

Tom looked away, anger building up in his chest along with hurt and betrayal. He couldn’t think straight, he had no idea how this could be happening again, just after he learned to trust him again.

“Tom, she wants me so you’re just gonna have to find some way to deal with that. I’ve helped her constantly when you leave her broken. I’m cleaning up your mess,” he coldly put it. Tom grabbed his wrist, pinning it to the table.

“My mess. Not. Fucking. Yours.” he slowly with a lot of power enforced. Haz looked up into his best friends eyes, anger rising in his own body in response.

“Not. Anymore.” he retorted. Veins popped out in Tom’s forehead. Not only did he feel disgusted with what his friend had done to him, the fact that he felt no remorse made it even worse.

Before he even knew what his body was doing, Tom clenched his fist into a tight ball and swung it down with force into Haz’s jaw, a loud crack filled the room. He was so shocked he had no time to react. Tom’s blows only grew stronger, and they didn’t stop coming. Haz fell to the ground, his strength unmatched compared to the rage Tom had pouring out of him. He fought to push Tom off of him, but the blows kept knocking into him, draining all his energy as he began to fade out of consciousness. With one last punch, Tom knocked Haz out, his arms crumpled to his sides and bruises laced his knuckles. Tom sank down to his knees and the color red flashed in and out of his vision. Red for the anger that wouldn’t stop screaming in his mind. Red for the blood stains on his shirt of his best friend in the whole world, blood that oozed out of Harrison’s mouth, forming a little pool on the side of his limp head.

What had he done?