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I can’t believe it took that long!
The young man thought to himself, flopping down onto the first couch he says, after finally making it through the airport and passed the security check. For normal people, this was not a routine with many obstacles. And 2 years ago, it wouldn’t have been challenging for him either.
But all that had changed very suddenly. Sometimes, he still couldn’t quite believe that it was real.
The last three weeks had gone by in a blur of activity and travel between different cities and states – every hour of the day filled with press engagements, interviews on television news and talk-shows (some that he had never heard of and, as a result, had to Google) and, of course, the jam packed fan events. Those were his favourite parts of the trip, meeting the fans. He got to engage with real people, share in their delight and hear their stories. Many left him with goose bumps, in awe of the impact his presence had on others.
He reminded himself constantly that this was no reason to consider that he was better than others, or more important. He had seriously meant it when he told one interviewer that he worked hard to follow the advice that Chris Hemsworth had given him shortly after being cast as the new Spiderman.
“Don’t let this go to your head. Focus, keep yourself humble. Do what it takes to keep your feet on the ground.” Tom Holland, had kept a screenshot of that email on his phone ever since. And he tried really hard to keep to it. Thankfully, he had many people around him to make it easier.
Dragging himself up, he made his way to the nearby Starbucks coffee counter, he couldn’t help but think how good it would feel to be back in London. There really was no place like home.
His handlers and security on this tour had been supportive and friendly, making him feel comfortable and not like an object to be flaunted. He appreciated that immensely. But he also missed having someone from home with him too. Sometimes he had been accompanied by one of the twins – even his father once – but for most of the last year and a half he had almost always had his best mate at his side.
Opening the door to his family home, Harrison Osterfield stepped inside, kicking off his running shoes on the front mat. This simple action was now harder than it should have been given that he was also trying to remember exactly how to breathe.
I need to have a friendly word with whoever put that bloody hill in my way! He thought, forcing himself to take slow deep breaths.
“Back already?” his mother asked as he walked into the kitchen.
He panted out a reply, or at least part of one, making his mother laugh.
She turned from the stove just as he took a seat at the breakfast counter, “You went up the hill again didn’t you?”
He could only nod. Talking took away precious air.
“Serves you right,” she lectured, pointing the spatula in his direction, “I warned you that the air here was not the same as across the Atlantic.”
Folding his arms and putting his head down, Harrison grumbled, “Shouldn’t have put it there in the first place!”
“Well I’ll be sure to bring that up at the next council meeting. See if they can’t move it.” His mother fired back.
Sarcasm. The weapon of every caffeinated mother. He thought. He loved his mother, and wouldn’t have her any other way.
On his morning runs with his best friend, they had never encountered a hill as brutal as the one presenting a half mile challenge on his route. If they had, Tom would no doubt have encouraged him to power through.
“Grab yourself a waffle and go shower.” His mother instructed, “I can smell you from here.”
Taking a whiff through his nose, Harrison found that he could not argue with her on this point. He smelt absolutely rank. So, he grabbed a fresh waffle from the stack on the table and headed up stairs, pausing to pat Monty who was lying in his basket at the kitchen door.
“Excuse me, Sir?”
Tom snapped out of his thoughts, he hadn’t been listening.
“What can I get for you today?” the lady behind the counter asked him.
“Sorry. Got lost in my own head.” he replied, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Could I get a mega cappuccino, please? Two shots of espresso.”
“Coming right up.” She replied with a smile. As she turned to prepare his order, Tom caught sight of her name tag, Mae, it read.
I wonder if she would be offended if I called her Aunty. He chuckled at his own joke.
Minutes later, she handed him a large, steaming cup. He slid a $20 bill across the counter. “Keep the change, Mae.”
She smiled broadly, “Thank you very much, Mr Holland.”
He froze before taking his first sip, “You knew who I was the whole time?”
“Everyone knows the new Peter Parker.” She nodded.
Tom blushed. Some of the interviewers over the last weeks had asked him what he thought about his new image as a heartthrob. It made him shy. He was just a regular kid from England that got very, very lucky.
“That’s kind of you,” he said, “But it’s just Tom now.”
Mae looked behind him, making him turn around as well. “Sorry,” she explained, “I just wondered if Harrison was here too. I follow you both on Insta, you know.”
“That’s great,” Tom responded, “I hope we don’t pollute your feed too much. But sadly I’m travelling alone this time. Harrison couldn’t make it.”
Mae giggled, “Spiderman, the lone Avenger.”
Tom couldn’t help but laugh. Seeing the queue grow behind him, he knew he couldn’t chat any longer, but he asked quickly, “Do you have your phone on you?”
“Yeah, of course.” Mae replied, eyes lighting up.
“I think we have time for a snap.” Tom said.
“Oh my god,” she squeaked, “Really?”
“Go on then,” Tom chuckled her, “lets grab a selfie before the queue turns into a mob.”
Harrison made it up the stairs despite his legs protesting vehemently all the way to the second floor landing.
When he reached his bedroom, he closed the door behind him and made his way to the unmade, king size bed and sat down. Taking the last bite of his waffle, he slipped off his socks and shirt - the cool air from the central vents, brought goose bumps to his chest.
Gotta love England’s 12 days of summer. He thought, laughing to himself.
Just then, his sister came barging into the room, not knocking as usual, “Haz, have you see-“
“Excuse me!” he cut her off.
Charlotte, the younger of the two Osterfield children, looked quizzically at him, “What?”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I wanted to ask if you had see-“
He cut her off again, “No, not that. You know the rule, Charls.”
“Oh come one! It’s like, one time!”
Harrison chuckled, “One time too many you mean. Now, turn around, close the door and try again.”
With a sigh of exasperation, his sister retreated, closing the door behind her. As soon as it had closed, Harrison smiled.
Knock! Knock! Knock! “Harrison?”
Knock! Knock! Knock! “Harrison?”
Knock! Knock! Knock! “Harrison?”
“Come in.” he called out pleasantly.
Marching back into the room, Charlotte glared at him, “You watch far too much Big Bang Theory!”
“Nonsense. There’s no such thing as too much coffee or Sheldon Cooper.” He said with a smirk. “Now, how may I be of assistance?”
“Actually it’s me who might be of assistance to you,” she replied.
“Really now?”
Holding out her iPad, she asked, “Have you seen your boyfriend’s Good Morning America interview yet?”
Harrison raised an eye-brow, “How many times are we gonna do this, Tom is not my boyfriend.”
“If you say so,” his sister replied cheekily. “Have you seen it or not?”
“Not yet,” he admitted.
“Here you go then,” she handed over her iPad and headed for the door, turning back with a mischievous grin she teased, “I’ll leave you two alone then.”
“Charlotte!” Harrison exclaimed. Picking up a sock he flung it in her direction - smiling when she squealed and closed the door as she ran off.
Lying back on the bed, Harrison hit play and watched the interview from start to finish. Pausing occasionally to reflect on something Tom had said or to admire how much his best mate had grown over the past two years. He wished desperately that he could have been there, but with drama and music assessments coming up, he had needed to prepare.
Picking up his phone – a Samsung, not an inferior iPhone like the one Tom had - he sent his best friend a quick text message. He couldn’t remember the time zone differences but he knew Tom would reply as soon as he could.
Leaving his room, Harrison stopped at the linen cupboard to grab a fresh towel, chuckling as he remembered the one day that he and Tom had overslept and consequently ran late for filming. They were in such a hurry that the two had shared a shower to save time, jostling for a spot under the hot water. Harrison, although taller, had not won that battle. And they had still arrived late to the set.
Padding barefoot to the bathroom, he couldn’t help but think how good it would be to see his friend again.
A few autographs and photos later, Tom made it back to the couch. Fortunately, the lounge attendant had kept his spot open for him. He was grateful.
He sat down and finally took a sip of his cappuccino – surprised to find that it was still piping hot. His flight didn’t leave for another hour. Settling down, putting his coffee beside him, he fished his phone out from the pocket of his ripped jeans. Unlocking it, he was greeted by a photo that he had taken with Jacob and Harrison during a break between filming.
I really wish you were here buddy. He thought, smiling at Harrison’s awkward pose. A moment later, he brought down the notifications menu. He had an assortment of texts, emails and missed calls. He scrolled through them, trying to decide where to start. Almost immediately, one notification caught his eye. He opened the text message.
HARRISON : Hey u , just saw your interview on GMA. Brilliant stuff mate.
Tom smiled, Harrison’s praise meant the most to him. He relied on the younger man more than many people realised. They had always been best friends. But the time together had brought them closer. Their bond had changed - at least for Tom – not that he would admit. Not yet, anyway.
All the other notifications forgotten, he mentally calculated the time difference before sending a reply back to Harrison.
TOM : Hiya Haz, can u believe they had Nick Carter there?! It was awesome.
While he waited for a reply, Tom scrolled through other unanswered text messages, sending responses to both of his parents and Paddy. He had even missed babysitting the little git.
PING! A new message came through.
HARRISON : So u gonna audition for a BSB revival now? Lol.
TOM : OMG could you imagine? BSB featuring Billy Elliot. It would be a disaster.
HARRISON : Don’t put yourself down Thomas. You have loads of talent.
Tom could feel himself blushing inwardly. Bloody hell. When had Harrison started to have this effect on him? He couldn’t remember.
TOM : Watch who u call Thomas there bruv ;)... how did the tapes go btw?
HARRISON : They went alright I reckon. Harry has a mental American accent though
TOM : haha. Don’t go starting another twitter war now. He won the last one didn’t he?
HARRISON : I think the fuck not!!! Whose side are u on anyway, Holland?
He chuckled, having known that his last question would really stir the pot. Harry and Haz had engaged in a wildly entertaining war of words. They had remained good mates the whole time, but it was a fierce contest that had lead to huge fan responses.
Pausing briefly, Tom thought about Harrison’s question and then sent back a reply before sitting back and finishing his cappuccino.
TOM : I’m on your side of course. I’ll always b on your side Haz.
It was almost time to board the plane home.