Tom Fletcher had been one of my best friends for as long as I could remember. We went to primary school together as kids until my dad had gotten a new job in America, resulting in our move. Tom and I had managed to stay in touch all those years through various forms of technology and visits. I had been back in London for close to three months now, living with Michael, my boyfriend of a year and a half, who I had met in my old town in Washington.
Tom had invited us to watch backstage at a gig he was playing with his band, McFly. I had met the guys in his band a few times, and had to admit…they were pretty damn attractive. But I was happy in my relationship. Michael was the first guy that I truly loved.
"Emma!" Tom shouted at me as he walked into the backstage rehearsal room that Michael and I were in.
"Tom!" I shouted back. I gave him a huge hug, ignoring his sweaty state. "You guys were amazing!"
"Aw, thanks," he grinned at me.
"Great show!" Michael congratulated Tom, earning him a 'thanks, mate' from the blond guitarist. "I'll be right back," Michael told us, leaving for the bathroom.
That left Tom and I to talk, which was actually one of my favorite things in the world. He always seemed to know what to say. He was in the middle of telling me a story about one of his band members, Dougie, when a ping from Michael's phone interrupted him. I glanced down at the phone, which was on the table right beside me, for a second.
'I miss you too, babe. When can I visit you in London?3'
The sender of the text was a girl named Samantha, Michael's supposed ex-girlfriend. Tom noticed my expression and took the phone from my hands, reading the text. I saw his jaw lock as Michael walked back into the room. Tom wasn't the only one who noticed my expression apparently. He warily grabbed his phone from Tom, panic fleeting across his face as he realized what had just happened.
"How long has this been going on?" my voice was surprisingly calm.
"A few months…" he admitted.
"I trusted you," my voice cracked. I couldn't believe this. The last few months, maybe the entire time we had been living in England together, he had been seeing another girl. I looked over at Tom on my right and was surprised by how angry he looked. He walked towards Michael in one long stride and punched the side of his face with a loud smack.
"AH, holy shit!" Michael yelled, cradling the side of his face. Tom gave a semi-smug smirk. Hearing all the commotion, the rest of McFly entered the room.
"What the hell is going on?" Harry asked, looking at the three of us.
"Michael was just leaving-"
"Emma, wait! I'm sorry, okay! It was all just a mistake."
I'm guessing Michael could tell by the look on my face that I wasn't going to forgive him because with a final pleading look he left the room.
"Asshole," I muttered. I felt a few tears sliding down my face, but I quickly wiped them off with the back of my hand. There was something about crying in front of people that made me feeling extremely weak and vulnerable. Tom was the first one I looked at. He wrapped his arms around me, and I rested my head on his shoulder for a brief moment before pulling myself together. I didn't want to get emotional with people around me.
"Do you want to stay at my house tonight?" Tom asked softly. "The guys are staying over for the weekend, so we can write some songs and stuff. I would love it if you joined us."
Something about the way Tom had spoken had me briefly smiling. Like I said, he always knew what to say.
"That sounds perfect."
"Good," he smiled back at me. "We're ready to go then!"
Tom took my hand and led us through the hallways out to the door, the rest of the band trailing behind us. Holding hands was never a romantic thing between us; it was just a comforting. We loved each other, but as friends, and I was so thankful to have him in my life.