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sleekervae · 5 months

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New York Romantic .2

Masterlist

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom and noelle have dinner together

word count: 3572

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

The first few weeks should've been easy, at least that's what one would've thought entering a faculty of acting. But the fact was out of the eighteen kids in Tom's classes, ironically a lot of them were very shy. Oh sure, you had the stand out performers; the 'put your spotlight on me' students whose bravado followed them even off the stage.

Not to mention the workload was quite overwhelming at first. Very quickly Tom found himself staying up late into the night, reading papers and excerpts from a handful of philosophers and authors that discussed everything from the precariousness of religion to ethical questioning of the modern nouveau. A couple of his classmates complained amongst themselves about how boring and dry the readings could be, and some were definitely more bland than others. Though when his roommate, Sunny, began his evening warm ups and practice Tom found the urge to dive in came so naturally. It just didn't come in handy when he was going into the early morning hours.

Sunjit, or Sunny as he preferred to be called, was an Indian native who'd grown up in Manchester. He figured Doris roomed them together simply for the fact that they were both English. And Noelle was right when she said he was a ray of sunshine; every little problem or obstacle they came across, be it commuting in the city or their arduous work load, Sunny always had a more optimistic disposition about everything. It was refreshing, and he and Tom became fast friends.

He had also been quite taken with Noelle, the ballet student just a year ahead of him. She was a year younger than him but had been accepted into her faculty a year ago. He'd see her around on the campus, usually flocked by her dancer friends in their joggers, leotards and slick buns. And when she caught his eye, even for a fleeting moment, she never hesitated to wave hello. Sometimes they'd catch up together in the hall or on their way to school. Noelle had travelled all the way down from Maine and she'd never been anywhere outside of the East coast, so suffice to say she had a few questions about England; the people, the weather patterns, if he'd ever witnessed one of the queen's convoy or her corgis. He quickly learned corgis were her favourite dog. Her questions, especially the sillier ones, always made him smile.

This particular Thursday had been rough. Sunny didn't have class today so he spent up until 2am practicing his tremolos, legatos, and all the other chords Tom didn't half understand. As a result, he slept in enough to just miss his bus, thus he was late to class. As if that wasn't bad enough, because he had been in such a rush he forgot his notes on his readings at the loft. That had certainly gone over well when his professor -- a well studied and prolific expert on the material -- called on him to give him opinions. It didn't quite go over as well as he'd hoped.

He also had a bit of a jump scare when he checked his bank account and the funds were dwindling. Expenses in New York were truly nothing to laugh about. And despite his mum's assurances that she'd send him the money he'd need, Tom knew it was in his best interest to get a job to help keep up. Where though remained to be seen.

Suffice to say dragging himself up the stairs after school was his mountain of a molehill. At least the lobby was quiet, not even Doris was at her desk to watch soap operas and eat her burnt popcorn. So he sat on the steps, exhaling heavily through his nose, trying to will away the headache that was tapping away to be let in. It had only been two weeks, and already Tom was exhausted.

He didn't so much as bat an eye or look up when he heard the door swing open. He did however open his eyes when he heard footsteps come his way, and he looked up to find Noelle staring down at him. Her hair was still tied slick, loose strands hanging from her ears, with her jeans pulled up over her leotard. Her big brown eyes were soft, complimenting the small gape between her lips as she watched him curiously; an overall calming and ethereal presence.

"Hey," she smiled kindly, rocking back and forth in her mis-matched converse.

"Hi," Tom grinned, moving to shift from his position, "Sorry, you probably need to get by,"

"Don't worry. Are you alright?" she simpered, "You look like you got woken up by one of Wallace's cracking contraptions,"

Tom bore a smile back, shrugging dismissively, "Yeah, I'm alright. It's been a long day," he replied.

"Tell me about it," she took a seat next to him, letting her bag slump to the floor, "First time today I've been off my feet,"

"What time did you start today?"

"Seven am,"

"Ouch,"

Noelle shrugged, "I'm used to it by now. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing but..." she trailed off with a bashful giggle, her eyes still laced with concern, "Do you wanna' talk about it?"

"No, it's fine," he shook his head, "It's just been a lot, you know?"

"Hey I get it, the first couple of weeks are hell. Only by the time Christmas rolls around you feel like you're finally getting a handle on everything," she reached around to pull her elastic from her hair, shaking her head as her long hair fell around her shoulders, "You were picked out of over 2000 applications, only to be accepted into a class of not even twenty people. That's not something to scoff at,"

Tom chuckled, "You got a point," he glanced at her, "You look like you've got it all figured out, though," he said.

"Well, it sure didn't take overnight," she grinned, "Even now -- sometimes I realize I've forgotten my toe pads when I'm on the bus and if I'm late then I'll be drawn and quartered,"

"That doesn't sound pleasant," he simpered back.

"It's a living," she shrugged back, glancing up at the stairwell behind them. She then looked over at the desk, confirming that Doris wasn't at the desk. She then turned to him, "Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," he nodded.

"Alrighty then," Noelle stood and slung her back over her shoulder, "I'm making dinner,"

Tom was taken aback at first, after all, he barely knew her well enough, "Oh, I don't wanna' make trouble for you," he said.

Noelle shook her head, "Oh please, it's no trouble at all," she assured.

"Isn't your roommate home?"

"She's working right now, won't be home for a bit," she extended her hand to him, "You coming or no?"

Regardless of his reservations, Tom took her hand, letting her pull him to his feet. Standing up he realized she towered over him as she stood on the second step. Noelle seemed to come to the same conclusion.

"Damn, is this what it's like to be tall?" she raised her hand level to the top of her head, bringing it forward over the gap atop his own head.

Tom chuckled amusedly, "Savour it while you can," he took the step up and sure enough he towered over her again. Noelle simply rolled her eyes, smiling nonetheless as she lead him upstairs.

Noelle's loft was as cozy and warm as she was, the pale walls were bathed in the soft glow of lamps and the fairy lights strung up along the low ceiling. And one of them had an affinity for succulents, there were a plethora of tiny pots scattered across shelves and window sills. That wasn't to say the place was pristine, though; there were some loose jackets tossed over chairs and shoes piled up at the door. The kitchenette mirrored his own, only the pile of plates and utensils in the drying rack proved it was used way more than his own was.

Tom took a seat at the dining table, curious as he watched Noelle pull out packets of instant noodles, some eggs, and vegetables from her fridge. He offered to help where he could but she assured him she had it all under control. Ten minutes later she had two bowls of upgraded instant ramen at the ready.

The dining table only had four chairs, pressed up against a window with a faint view of the city. Tom was pleasantly surprised with Noelle's cooking, it was the first home cooked meal he'd had since arriving, and it was the tastiest dinner he'd enjoyed in a long time.

"Do you like it?" she asked between bites.

"It's fantastic!" he awed, tilting his head, "I'm also happy to find nothing's burnt,"

Noelle rolled her eyes, "Oh, shut up. It was one time," she giggled, "I've been cutting back on my noodle intake, but when I can't be bothered to stand at the stove for long I break 'em out,"

"Hey, a meal's a meal, sometimes nutrition is overrated," he replied, "And they're cheap, too,"

"That's a nice perk," she nodded, "If you want cheap groceries, Paddy's down the street is great. So long as you get there before 9am, that's when the nonnas go in and squeeze the shit out of the tomatoes and bread,"

"That's nice to know. Thank you," he sipped from his water glass, "Do you work, too?"

Noelle nodded, "Weekends at Frames. I slice pizza for the bowlers," she replied, "Sometimes my boss lets me take home some of the canned tomatoes if we didn't sell out,"

Tom hummed, "Is that what I'm tasting here?" he asked curiously.

She smiled, "Yeah! The spice is gochujang,"

"It's fantastic, Noelle," he replied, "Have you always liked to cook?"

"My aunt taught me how -- and my uncle served as the proverbial guinea pig," she said.

He cocked a brow, "You lived with your aunt and uncle?" he asked.

Noelle stopped mid-chew, realizing she'd let her tongue slip, "Yeah, my parents weren't really around. It's a bit of a long story," she shrugged back.

Tom swallowed heavily, "I -- I didn't mean to impose on you like that, I'm sorry,"

"Oh my gosh, don't be sorry!" she assured, "I mean -- my mom had some substance issues and my dad... well, we don't know where he went. So my aunt and uncle were named my legal guardians," her voice trailed off, bordering on dejection with every word she recounted.

Tom stopped at that, his heartstrings tugging but his curiosity nevertheless peaked. That being said he kept his questions at bay, he didn't want to offend or trigger her, especially being in her own space.

"I'm sorry to hear that. But you liked living with them?" he asked.

Noelle nodded, "They're wonderful people. I probably wouldn't have auditioned for Julliard in the first place if they hadn't encouraged me," she replied.

"How long have you been dancing for?" he asked, finding an out for new conversation.

"Since I was ten years old. I thought it might've been too late because everybody else usually starts at age three, but... here I am," she smiled back.

"Here you are," he smiled back, "And obviously you're very good if you've made it,"

"I suppose you have a point," she simpered, twirling her fork in her bowl absentmindedly, "Well, what about you, Tom?"

"What about me?" he asked.

She shrugged bashfully, "Did you like growing up in England?"

"As compared to the places I couldn't grow up in?" he simpered back, "I did. My parents split up when I was younger but I had a good relationship with both of them,"

"What do your parents do?" she asked.

"My mum's a counsellor in an employment office, and my dad was a show producer," he replied, "You ever hear of Emmerdale?"

Noelle shook her head, "Can't say I have. But that's pretty cool, though!" she said, "Is that how you got into acting?"

"Kind of. My mum signed me up for a youth theatre group to keep me busy -- awakened something in me I guess," he grinned sheepishly.

"I see. And is your dad still working in tv?"

Tom shook his head, the corners of his lips falling, "No, he passed about six years ago,"

Noelle nearly dropped her fork, quite taken aback though nonetheless she wanted to be respectful, "My God. I'm so sorry. How old were you?"

"Fourteen," he shrugged back solemnly, "It's alright, though. We're all making out okay,"

"Yeah but -- I can't imagine that could've been easy --" she stopped herself suddenly, becoming flustered, "I'm sorry, I know it's super personal and it's none of my business,"

"No, it's alright," he assured her, "Life's pretty fucked up sometimes, but we have to keep moving forward is all,"

Noelle nodded slowly, "You're right; and you made it here, after all. I think your dad's very proud of you," she replied.

Tom smiled, hoping the lighting was low enough that she wouldn't pick off the tinting in his cheeks. Taking a sip from his glass was the only natural response he could muster before uttering a quiet 'thank you'.

"I'm sure your family's quite proud of you too, Noelle," he said, "Anyway, enough sad stuff,"

"Good," Noelle huffed, jokingly rolling her eyes, "It was starting to get wishy washy in here,"

He simpered under his breath, "Alright. What are your plans when you graduate?" he asked.

Noelle rested her chin in her hand, smiling with giddy, "To get a spot at New York Ballet. They're the American equivalent of the Russian Ballet," she replied.

"Beautiful," Tom mired.

"What about you?"

"Go audition for a movie or two, I guess," he chuckled simply, "Hope and pray I don't fuck it up,"

"Have you worked on any productions before?" she asked curiously.

"A couple here and there. Mostly small parts. I just finished a short film over the summer, though," he replied.

"No kidding! What's it about?" she had both elbows on the table now, leaning in closer as though he would share a secret.

His smile widened, "My character's an aspiring journalist who stumbles upon this gang who like to take rounds in a tumble dry machine for kicks,"

Noelle's eyes went wide, her shoulders caved forward as she recoiled at the thought, "Jesus -- really? Tell me this wasn't based off --"

"A true story? I'm afraid so," he confirmed, "The moral is about how journalism doesn't care about right or wrong as long as it captures their audience's attention,"

Her face twisted in a combination of horror and intrigue, the same way most people react when learning about a serial killer, "Lemme' guess: your character gets found out and thrown in the dryer?"

"You'll just have to watch the film to find out," he chuckled smartly.

She sighed dramatically, "Oh, you mean the torture of having to physically sit and watch a movie? Unspeakable torture," she teased.

Tom playfully rolled his eyes, "If you can withstand Don't Breathe for an hour and something, I think you can withstand this,"

"I'll take your word for it," she simpered, "Do you want to move to Hollywood after you graduate?"

Tom pondered it for a moment; the thought had struck him numerous times but he was on the fence about it. The racket, the chaos, it was such a stark 180 contrast compared to England. And perhaps that was why New York struck the perfect balance with familiar inklings of home.

But hey, there would always be sunshine...

"I'm not sure. I might go back to England, we have a pretty strong film industry over there. Or maybe I'll stay here?" he wondered aloud, glancing out the window, "Obviously, you'd like to stay in the city?"

Noelle nodded happily, "I would, but I'd also love to do some travelling. Farthest I've been outside of Maine was Disney World in Florida. Not that I'm complaining," she chuckled bashfully, "Maybe I'll come visit you in Birmingham one day?"

"I'd like that," he beamed back, "We'll wait out in front of Buckingham Palace and try and spot the queen's corgis,"

"Oh my goodness! Don't threaten me with a good time!" she teased back.

Their chatter died down when they heard the lock click, both of them looking over to find Bianca, Noelle's roommate, sauntering in. Another petite girl, she had vibrant blonde hair hanging loose and tousled past her shoulders, soft Bambi eyes that were tired and glazed, and her checkout uniform was wrinkled and warped as the fabric caught in her jacket. She was strikingly beautiful, the epitome of a blonde bombshell.

She stopped short when she saw Tom and Noelle, perplexed but nonetheless fronting a smile as she dropped her bag into a corner. She tossed her jacket over the back of the couch, sauntering over with her hands buried in her back pockets.

"Hey! What's going on over here?" she asked, looking curiously between the pair.

"We're commiserating about life over ramen," Noelle replied, extending her hand out to Tom, "Tom, this is Bianca. Bianca, this is Tom. He lives across the hall,"

"Nice to meet you," Tom smiled politely at her, nevertheless he had he feeling he was a mouse within the eye line of a cat.

"Likewise. You go to Julliard?" she asked.

"I'm an acting major," he nodded.

Bianca raised her brows, "That's awesome! Well I hope you make it," she turned on her heel and started for the fridge, "Do we still have that buttered broccoli?" she asked Noelle.

"Second top shelf on the left" Noelle replied.

Bianca gave an quiet, victorious 'ah ha' as she pulled a container out from the fridge, then fished for a fork from the drawer, "If you guys don't mind I'll bid you adieu," she gave a small bow, "I have a date with my bed,"

Noelle cocked a brow, "Honey, put the broccoli in the microwave at least," she said.

"Don't worry, it's fine!" Bianca waved her off, "Don't have too much out here!" and with that she sauntered down the hall, a slam of a door followed after.

Tom nodded, glancing curiously at Noelle as she just shook her head, "I promise she's usually nicer than that," she huffed.

"It's okay," Tom replied, "She looks like she had a long day,"

"She works at the grocery store,"

He cocked a brow, "So you're both on your feet all day, basically," he noted.

"It's a living," Noelle shrugged listlessly, "We do what we have to to get by,"

"I hear that," Tom glanced over at her empty bowl, reaching over to take it along with his as he stood up. "Here, let me,"

"What? No!" Noelle protested, "I can do that!" she moved to get up as well.

"Hey, it's the least I can do! You've been on your feet all day, and you cooked dinner for me!" he replied.

"Tom..." she darted to his side by the sink. He nearly reached out to touch her shoulder but hesitated, mindful of not overstepping any boundaries too quickly. It was then the pair realized how close they stood in proximity to each other, closer than what young strangers should've been. He could pick out the black diamond flecks in her irises, the faint freckles across her cheeks, the subtle but sweet notes of apple and bergamot that wafted under his nose. And the indent of an old piercing scar under her bottom lip.

"I got it, Noelle," he assured her kindly, willing himself to focus.

Noelle rolled her eyes, she knew she had a tendency to be stubborn but she could tell she'd met a match in Tom. She glanced at the soaking pot in the sink, already having made up her mind as she reached for it.

"Lemme' get this in the dishwasher at least," she decided.

"Fine," he conceded, stepping back to give her room.

Noelle huffed as she put the pot away, glancing at him over her shoulder, "What's your sign?" she asked suddenly.

His brow furrowed, "My sign?"

"Your zodiac," she clarified, "Like I'm a Gemini,"

"Ah," he nodded, "Um -- Aquarius,"

Noelle chuckled, "Damn, you're just as stubborn as me. And here I was thinking you'd be a pushover... I'm joking, by the way," she quickly clarified.

"Your dripping sarcasm wasn't evident of that?" he teased back. Before she could get a word in to protest, he placed the bowls in the sink and made a grab for the dish soap.

"Thank you," Noelle finally conceded, "Do you mind if I go get changed?"

"Not at all," he glanced behind his shoulder with a satisfied grin, "I'll be here,"

Noelle collected her bag off the floor and started for her room, pausing at the mouth of the hall and taking another look behind her. Tom was none the wiser to her silent presence, his back turned to her while his broad shoulders lifted and fell with each move he made. He had this unassumingness about him at first glance, she wouldn't necessarily pick him out from a crowd but if she knew to look for him she wouldn't have a problem. And when he smiled, little wrinkles formed at the corner of his bright eyes, clear blue eyes a sharp contrast to his pale complexion.

She turned swiftly on her heel and skittered down the hall, coming to the odd realization that she had never paid any mind to the drama department -- at least, not until now...

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