Y/N

If I had to fly home and do nothing for the break, I'd quite literally go insane. I always have to be working and if I'm not, I need a proper holiday as a break. Whenever I'm not working and just at home, I feel so unproductive and stir crazy. Luckily for me, my agent had booked me a Netflix original movie. Movies were pretty easy to pump out. We filmed for about two months, did a little bit of a press tour and that allowed me a month at home with my family and friends.

The month went by so slowly, many of my friends having full time jobs and only being able to see me on weekends. My apartment was half empty when I came home, Josh having moved out and taking what was his. It was weird being at home without anyone around, the show was always so full on and busy I wasn't used to being alone in so much quiet. I thought I was over Josh, especially being with Tom for majority of my time filming but being in the familiar apartment without him just felt so lonely. I wasn't attached to anything anymore, the reason I was in the apartment in the first place was because of him and moving around so much for work just made it feel like a house and not a home.

We had a group chat with the shows cast, about three weeks after filming it was filled with of non-stop messages and then radio silence. Everyone was either resting or onto their next work project. The flight back to Los Angeles was gruelling, having to stop over in other countries and change terminals, flights and go through customs each time; gross. It was about two in the morning in whichever country I was in when I was taking my shoes off for security checks, putting my phone and carry-on bag in a plastic tub. They patted me down, let me through and I slipped my shoes on again. I had only half an hour before boarding the next flight and got a message from Tom.

TOM
I just landed at LAX when are
you here? Would be cool to get
the gang back together before
the Emmys show x

I smiled to myself, not really hearing from Tom too much as we both had busy schedules. It mainly fizzled out to just small talk and commenting on each other's Instagram stories, nothing deep or all that personal. The main conversation we had was a quick FaceTime when he congratulated me on my nomination for Best Supporting Female in a limited series, and I congratulated him on his nomination for Best Lead Actor in a limited series. Kind of salty that Stella was considered a supporting role and James wasn't but hey, it's a fucking Emmy nom. I'm stoked with anything. As bad as it sounded, the last week or so I spent with him I tried to distance myself so I wouldn't be too upset leaving him for so long. I kind of missed having someone constantly roasting me and taking the piss. And the sex. I haven't slept with anyone since, I just couldn't be bothered having to start from scratch finding someone who I could trust, wouldn't secretly leak photos, wouldn't brag on the internet or break into my house and cut a lock of my hair as I slept.

Y/N
I'm landing at like 5am LA time
and the next day is the awards
rip jetlag during the ceremony

TOM
Fuck that haha I guess that's
what makeup artists are for hey?
It's been a while since you've told
me I look like shit everyone
morning lmao

Y/N
I'll make sure to make up for
lost time by telling you look
like shit on the red carpet x

Other than Tom and I being nominated, Sam was up for like three different awards I think. There was one for directing, music and maybe writing? Honestly I was too tired from travelling that I couldn't remember. Sam fucking Levinson, if he doesn't win at least one, I'm burning down the show. The Emmy's won't exist anymore, I will be in jail and all of Hollywood would probably be dead - but that's the risk I'm willing to take if our show doesn't win.

Waking up the morning of the show was rough. I had my face soaking in an ice bath in the hotel suite I was staying in, my makeup artists, stylists and agent all preparing in the main room. The dress I had been measured for was stunning. It was designed by Marc Jacobs, an elegant off the shoulder ensemble that accentuated every one of my best features, a slit up the leg and a flattering hem along the chest. It was by far the most expensive thing I have ever worn, and Cartier was loaning me the jewellery for the night. Fuck me, this is what real famous people are used to? I honestly felt like since the shows release, I had skyrocketed to a new level of success not to mention the Emmy nomination for someone who had barely entered the industry properly.

Timmy resurrected the group chat of just he, Tom and I by sending a photo of himself in bed with messy hair and his hand rubbing his face. Lucky bastard had only just woken up, Tom hadn't even read it so he was probably still sleeping. The ice water was a great trick to wake yourself up and alleviate any puffiness, as well as another industry secret: haemorrhoid cream. It sounds fucking gross, but makeup artists swore by putting it on your face. As much as I felt jet lagged as fuck, I looked as fresh as a daisy.

The dress, my hair, my makeup, my jewellery, everything was just stunning but I was so nervous for my first proper red carpet. Yes, I had been on many of them but never as a nominee. When you're up for an award, the paparazzi hound you and the cameras are just overwhelming. We were ushered almost into a queue, walking up on set of stairs before the actual length of the red carpet. I found Kara from the cast who was jittering with nerves; this being her first red carpet. I put my hand out, pulling her into a hug as she spotted me. As annoying as she was, she was a sweet girl and I kind of missed her too. I was called by one of the floor managers, saying that I was allowed to start walking the carpet, taking a deep breath and telling Kara I would see her inside.

The cameras flashed from every direction, people shouting my name in attempts I would look down the barrel of their camera over the hundreds of others also pointing at me. In front of me was Jennifer Aniston, behind me was Jude Law. This was insane. I was called over by an interviewer for GQ, asking the basic questions of who I was wearing, how excited I was to be nominated and who I would be voting for if I couldn't pick myself. I jumped as I felt a hand touch my lower back, the interviewer smiling and the cameraman stepping back to widen the shot. Tom and Timothee, you sneaky motherfuckers, why do you always appear when I least expect it.

I wanted to hug them both, but knew my makeup would get on their suits, so I gave them one of those kisses where you just press your cheek against theirs and make the sound. Timothee took my hand and spun me in a circle, wolf whistling and ignoring the cameras as they went insane. Tom just looked at me up and down.

"Eyes up here sunshine," I mocked, smiling at Tom. I missed the two boys like crazy during my break. The cast of the movie I filmed were great, but nowhere near as fun as these two.

"Sorry, I forgot how annoying you were and had to remind myself," he joked, letting me walk in front of them down the carpet.

Photographers called all of our names at once, the sound overwhelmingly loud and blending into a dull roar. Timothee stood back a bit, motioning for Tom to take photos with me as the two actor nominees from the show. He put his arm around me and pulled me close, grinning effortlessly to the cameras. His cologne was familiar, it almost calmed me down just knowing he was close again.

"I almost forgot to tell you that you look like shit," I muttered, looking up at him still smiling for the cameras. He did the same, laughing and posing.

"And to think I actually missed having you around" he said, looking back to the crowd and waving as we continued walking into the theatre.