*drops chapter*
*runs*

Thomas's pov

I was driving a car. Sitting in the driver's seat, clenching at the steering wheel, fingers white. Eyes trained forward. Eyes always trained forward. Everything seemed normal. If I didn't look back, everything was okay.

Except, of course, that there were no brakes.

There were no brakes and I couldn't stop. With every second I gained speed, moving forward, forward, forward, never looking back. I was moving faster now and my wheel was locked in position and the brakes were useless pedals on the floor. And there was a cliff. I could see it now. I was heading directly for this cliff and I was going to drive right off, but I couldn't turn because the steering wheel wouldn't steer and I couldn't stop because the brakes wouldn't brake.

And none of this was a dream. None of this was fake. None of this was a figment of my imagination.

This was me.

"Please, Reggie," I had whispered into the phone. There were tears falling from my eyes and there was wreckage scattered in my wake. "Please."

There was silence over the line. Dylan's bathroom lights shone brightly on my small, wrecked form.

"You won, okay? Please, don't continue with this anymore. I'll do anything, please," I had continued through still swollen lips.

Another silence. Then, "You love him, don't you?" Reggie had asked. His voice had been so annoyingly knowing and yet my heart stilled in my chest.

"I do," I admitted.

"You're more stupid than I thought," Reggie replied after a second with a sigh.

"Yes," I breathed. "I'm the stupidest fucking human being on this planet."

I had pressed the phone closer to my ear in the silence that followed. Then I waited. All I could do was wait anymore.

"I made a bet with you Thomas, do you remember?" How could I forget? "And I set conditions. You had to make Dylan fall in love with you. If you did it, I'd forget your secret. I'd fade away, and you'd never have to see me again. If you couldn't do it, I get to tell everyone everything I know about you."

"But," he finished, "if you didn't accept the terms of our bet, then I'd expose your story with Mr. Elijah Burton to the entire world."

I knew exactly what he was saying. Perhaps I had finally fallen off the edge though, because it barely even hurt me anymore.

"Go ahead. Expose me," I whispered. "If that's how this has to end, then fine. Do it."

"Consider it done."

I had blinked, feeling choked and hot and terrified and like my emotions had been run over by a steamroller. Reggie hung up, and I was left alone, in silence, staring at the towel rack in Dylan's bathroom.

I blinked again. This time I stared at the Welcome to Los Angeles sign hung proudly outside the airport walls. I stared at Dylan as he slung a backpack over his shoulder, finally signaling down a taxi. I stared at the people around me, all vying for our attention. I stared because that phone call was twelve hours ago, and I had to look forward. I had to look forward because I had no brakes, and I truly couldn't stop.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

I hadn't seen my manager in months--hadn't spoken with him for weeks. Jack, with his ever-present red beard, was the first to greet Dylan and I when we arrived at an impressive building in the heart of L.A. where 'emergency press' was going to be held later. He looked exactly as he always had, though perhaps he had gained a few more pounds and lost a few more hairs. Jack didn't look pleased to see me, not that he usually did. We weren't friends, weren't even friendly most of the time.

Beside him was a smiling blonde with a commanding presence. She was obviously Dylan's own manager--Emma, I believe--as she greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a hug. He was evidently happy to see her as well, as some of the concern he had had on his brow melted away when he saw her.

It didn't take them long to separate Dylan and I, tearing us off to separate meetings. Dylan kissed me on the cheek before he left, bidding me goodbye with a soft, warm smile. There was something terribly intimate about it, like it was the last kiss we would ever share.

"There's a thousand things we have to do today," Jack said, slightly breathlessly as we hurried to the elevators. "You've been missing from the press for so long that the reporters are beginning to get antsy."

"I needed a break," I shrugged. The elevator doors closed and Jack turned to me with a condescending glare.

"Celebrities don't take breaks. You're supposed to stay relevant. You can't be relevant from the suburbs of New Jersey," he said, giving me a pointed look.

The elevator doors opened and as Jack stepped out, I followed. Rolling my eyes at his back, I muttered, "There are more important things than my reputation, you know."

Jack stopped and I almost bumped into his back before he turned back to me with a frown. Eyes unnervingly penetrating, he asked, "And what would that be, Thomas? Love?"

The way he spat the word choked me for a moment, before I managed to find my voice again.

"No," I answered without hesitation. "Dylan."

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Press that day was odd. Not difficult, just strange. It almost scared me how easily I was able to slip back into my public persona--like I hadn't even been away at all.

I answered questions all day. Mostly related to The Maze Runner, but occasionally with the odd question as well. It was horrible, and I hated it. I felt like I was repeating the same answers throughout the day, but I was far too distracted to manage to come up with any original material. I did most interviews and meetings on my own. It bothered me to be alone now, but there wasn't much I could do about it. Jack didn't really like speaking to me, and despite how much I had changed over the past few months, I still wasn't seen as a very approachable person. Thus, I was quite lonely all day--stuck in a room with dozens of people, but without anyone around that could really understand what was going on in my head.

Kaya showed up around dinner time, all smiles and curls, saving me from another silent meal with Jack. I had never been happier to see her as I stood and waved her down.

"Tom!" She called, engulfing me in a hug. I grinned and pressed my face into her hair, relishing in the familiarity of her hold.

"Where's Dylan?" She asked once she had pulled away. I shrugged. I hadn't seen him since lunch, and I missed him. I couldn't exactly tell her that though.

Pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, she said, "Odd that this was all called so suddenly, right? Usually Communications schedule this stuff way in advance."

I shrugged again, pulling her to sit down next to me. Then I replied, "Sometimes things just work out like this, all last-minute and stuff."

She nodded, looking thoughtful. When her eyes met mine, she seemed distracted. I had a feeling she wasn't really looking at me.

"How was your getaway with Dylan?" she asked. Now I knew she was thinking about something else, because her voice, though level, was more tense than usual. Her fingers, which had previously been tracing the edge of the table, fell into a knot on her lap.

"Good," I said, too afraid to say anything more.

"That's good," she said, and maybe she had meant it to be kind, but her voice was much too solemn to be comforting. And suddenly the sad feeling of regret that had been plaguing me all day seemed to cloud around us, seemed to breathe and grow and hold us closely. I knew Kaya felt it too, but we were probably the only two in the room to understand the twister of emotions flashing down around us; we were probably the only two in the room to feel like everything had gone wrong, like we should have done something to prevent the outcome.

"Kaya," I started, gulping. I wasn't sure where to go from there--apologize? Comfort her?

She looked up, sad. She interrupted my train of thought when she asked, "You haven't told him yet, have you?"

Our eyes met and it was just us in the room, holding the other's gaze. It was all honesty between us. I couldn't lie anymore even if I wanted to.

But suddenly there were lips on my cheek in greeting, and then Kaya was being pulled up from her seat into Dylan's arms. He completely engulfed her, and despite how heavy I felt, I managed a small smile at my boyfriend.

They greeted each other, and if Dylan noticed that Kaya wasn't quite as upbeat as usual, he didn't say anything. After a few minutes Dylan excused himself, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from Kaya with an apologetic look.

He didn't say anything as he pulled me along. Before I knew it, Dylan was pushing me into the men's bathroom. He checked to make sure it was empty, and then his hands were on my hips and he was shoving me into the wall and his lips were on mine, hot and heavy and hard.

My own arms snaked around his back and up to his shoulders, clutching desperately, but just as I opened my mouth to deepen the kiss, Dylan pulled away. I blinked, slightly dazed, mostly intoxicated by his close proximity.

"What was that for?" I asked, still blinking dumbly.

"I missed you," he admitted with a smirk. Just as quickly as the playful expression appeared, however, it fell.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and there was concern in his voice that made my heart lurch and race uncomfortably. I knew he was thinking about our scene in the airport earlier today. For a moment I considered lying to him, but just as with Kaya, I found a defeated cold sweep across me. I leaned my head into his shoulder, and his fingers tightened on my hips. Then I shook my head.

His head turned so he could place a soft kiss on my hairline. Then, voice lowered, he asked, "What's going on, babe?"

I pulled back, looked up into eyes that so obviously loved me. Once again we were kissing, but this time by my own doing. Our lips met much harsher than the first time. It was anything but romantic, anything but elegant or graceful. It was teeth clattering against teeth, it was desperation and love and sadness, but worst of all, it was heartbreak.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was goodbye.

Maybe that was what forced me away from him, or perhaps it was the sudden need to stop running and do something, but I was pulling away just as suddenly as I had pushed us together. I sucked in a deep breath.

With the same lips that he had kissed a thousand times, the same lips that had pressed an I love you into the curves of his skin, I finally admitted, "I'm lying to you, Dylan."

And his stunned face had just enough time to morph into one of confusion before the door to the bathroom opened.

"Oh," Reggie Mills said from the doorway, and everything I had ever had control of seemed to shatter out of my grip, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--er--interupt."

It was fate's way of making a joke of me, because all I saw as Dylan stepped away from me to an appropriate distance, as Reggie made his way to the bathroom sinks, as my entire life converged in this one moment, was Reggie standing over me in a similar bathroom three months ago. All I saw was Reggie's leering gaze as he shook my hand, all I felt was the loneliness of such a similar situation.

My eyes didn't leave him, watching as if he was a dangerous animal poised to strike. He ignored me for moment, but as he stood in front of the mirrors of the sink, he glanced into the reflection to meet my gaze. He held it as he washed his hands, emotionless.

Finally, in a time that was probably less than a minute but felt like more than eternity, Reggie stepped towards the exit. I thought he was going to leave us without saying anything else, but at the very last moment he turned, clearly eyeing Dylan.

Then he met my eyes, saying, "See you tonight, Thomas," with a wicked smile. Taunting me.

The door swung shut behind him without a sound. Blood was rushing through me, white hot fury suddenly taking hold of my heart. I was done. I was done!

Just as Dylan reached out for my arm, I shoved him off, rushing after Reggie. My footsteps fell one after the other and I wasn't looking back and I certainly wasn't going to stop, not even as Dylan called my name. Blind and angry, my vision tunneled to only the ghost of Reginald Mills.

I burst from the room into the hallway, but Reggie wasn't there. It was like he had disappeared. Debating in the span of a second, I shot off down the right side of the hallway, praying he had set off down this way. Just as I rounded the corner, still ignoring Dylan's hurried footsteps behind me, I crashed into Jack's thick chest.

He looked surprised for a second before his gaze melted into one of disapproval. He grabbed me by the arm, saying with annoyance, "Where have you been? We were supposed to be in a meeting five minutes ago."

Just as he started dragging me off in the opposite direction, Dylan caught up to me. Slightly out of breath, his gaze shot between me and Jack in confusion.

"You're leaving?" he asked, and my heart broke with the angry disbelief in his tone.

Ripping my arm from Jack's grip, I reached for his shoulder. Wrapping my fingers firmly around him, I said, "I--I have a meeting. I'll--"

"You can't just--" Dylan cut me off, "can't just leave right now! What aren't you telling me, Tommy?"

I was choked, but Jack was huffling impatiently behind me, so I rushed out, "I'll explain tonight, Dyl. I--I promise."

And he probably didn't understand how hard it was for me to say those words. But why was I still hiding the truth from him anymore? The only thing I had left to lose was him.

Jack's hand came for my shoulder with more urgency, but I pulled away once more to kiss Dylan one last time. One last time, softly, sweetly.

"Tonight. I love you," I said without even thinking. Then I allowed Jack to pull me away, to pull us apart.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Autopilot. That's how I felt. Like the whole world was still moving forward, and in order to keep up, I had to move on autopilot. My every move was mechanical, my every word dishonest and unfocused.

I sat through a dozen more interviews. Talked to hundreds more people. Signed several more autographs. But none of it was me anymore. None of it was me.

By the time the day ended, I was tired; but more so, I was numb. I was so fucking numb. My stomach had been a mass of dread since I had heard Reggie on the phone this morning, but now the anxiety had faded. I felt nothing. I felt nothing when Kaya came over to me with a red solo cup at the end of the day, inviting me along to where apparently everyone involved in the 'successful day' was celebrating with pizza and beer. I smiled and agreed, finally abandoning Jack, but I was empty. I didn't care.

Running a hand through my hair, I accepted the food with a grateful smile but declined the alcohol. Kaya went off to socialize, evidently not finding my somber mood very endearing.

When my eyes caught Dylan, my heart finally seemed to start beating again. It beat as if for only him, and I put my pizza down without even taking a bite. I had promised him. I had promised tonight, I was going to explain. There was no more running. I was going to explain everything.

I reached him and even though he was in the middle of a conversation with some random woman, I grabbed him in a hug. Clinging on like we were the only two people left in the world. My heart beat with his steady one.

"Dylan," I breathed in, and I swear I've never said his name with so much emotion. I couldn't help the tears that rose in my eyes at the very prospect of losing him, so I closed my eyes as if that could ward away my fears.

He pulled away. It was very evident that he was trying to be mad at me, but more than anything he was concerned.

"Do we get to talk now?" he asked. I braced myself for the petty reply as he continued, "Or are you planning on running away from me again?"

My tongue felt heavy. "Let's talk."

He nodded, grabbing my hand and beginning to lead us towards an exit. He didn't get far before I stopped him though--before I froze and stared at Reggie standing feet away from us, indiscreetly watching our exchange. Dylan looked back at me, his brow creased, but I was busy glancing between him and Reggie.

Cornered. I felt cornered.

Maybe I should have pushed Dylan towards the exit, should have run while we had the chance. But I was paralyzed for a second too long. By the time I burst into action, Reggie was taking determined strides towards us. I grabbed Dylan's hand and almost began to run, but then--

"Thomas! Dylan!" And though I recognized the voice from my nightmares, Dylan's curiosity was enough to stop us in our tracks.

He turned. I stopped. From behind him, I watched Reggie approach with a sinful smile on his face, and now I wasn't numb because I was so fucking afraid, so unbelievable unprepared for any sort of exchange--

"Are you boys going somewhere?" he asked. My hand snaked up and grasped Dylan's, lightly tugging him away.

Dylan looked over at me, confused. When he turned back to Reggie, his eyes were puzzled.

"Aren't you--?" he started, vaguely recognizing Reggie from the bathroom earlier.

"Reginald Mills," Reggie stuck out his hand, and Dylan removed his hand from mine to grasp Reggie's firmly.

"Let's go," now I was pleading, pulling on Dylan's arm. My stomach was twisting, my every instinct telling me this was not going to end well. Dylan gave me a look that clearly scolded me for being rude.

"I'm sorry, Reggie," Dylan apologized. "Thomas and I were just on our way to do something."

"Before I reveal Thomas's article?" Reggie asked, and the question was so believably innocent. My fingers tightened on Dylan's arm just as my stomach jumped to my throat.

Dylan didn't understand, of course. "Article?"

"He didn't tell you?" Reggie asked innocently. He wasn't fooling anyone though, not with that devilish smirk etched perfectly onto his face. I paled, pulling at Dylan's hand to try to lead him away again.

Dylan didn't move, his curiosity gluing him to his spot. "Tell me what?" he asked slowly, each word a knife in my stomach.

"Reggie, please, don't--"

Reggie interrupted me with a villainous laugh. "That's rich! Were you ever planning on telling him, Sangster? Or can I have the honor?"

"Reggie," I started again, trying to stay calm. "Please, I--"

"Would you prefer to tell him you've been lying all along then?" Reggie asked. He looked as though he was feeding off my pain.

Dylan tensed immediately at my side. He pulled me closer to him, wrapping his arm around me securely. I had never felt so dirty in my life.

"Thomas? What's he talking about?" he asked, and he was careful, soft, unsure. The look in his eye terrified me--he looked so vulnerable.

Every mistake I had ever made seemed to converge on me in that moment, and now I was clinging to Dylan. I had fallen from the cliff; I had drowned; I had shot myself. I was everything wrong with everything in the world. And Dylan--he had done nothing wrong, yet still sentenced to the same fate--

I was crying, or at least I think I was. There were tears in my eyes and my vision was blurry. I was a million miles away yet my face was still pressed firmly to Dylan's chest, and I was apologizing over and over and over again to the point where my pleas didn't even sound remotely like English anymore, and I didn't even care that Reggie was there to witness it all.

When I pulled back to look into Dylan's hurt and bewildered eyes, I also noticed that we were starting to draw attention. That was the last thing I wanted, the last thing I needed--

"Thomas?" Dylan removed himself from me, turning his back on Reggie now to look at me with truly unguarded eyes. "What--what's going on?"

Silence. I was shaking. I couldn't speak.

But Reggie could.

"Would you like to hear a story, Dylan?" he asked, stepping into Dylan's line of vision again. Dylan's eyes left mine, almost reluctantly, to meet Reggie's. When Dylan didn't answer, Reggie smiled.

"Once upon a time," he started, "there was a wolf. A terribly selfish, conceited wolf, concerned only about his reputation. His name was Thomas."

A pause. Dylan's eyes were unwaveringly on Reggie. "One day this wolf made a bet with a fox. And the bet was this: make--make a rabbit fall in love with you within five months. But not just any rabbit--a naive rabbit. A rabbit new to the forest." Another pause. "A rabbit named Dylan."

"Reggie--" I cut in, but stopped when Dylan held up a hand to silence me.

"Of course, the wolf was conceited, so he knew he could do it. He agreed," Reggie grinned. It made me want to throw up.

"For the next few months, the wolf managed to seduce the rabbit. Even if there was a rough patch in the beginning, the rabbit began to do exactly as the wolf desired--he fell in love with him."

And now there was recognition on Dylan's face, and he was staring at Reggie. And he wasn't looking at me. And I was stepping forward, fingers searching for Dylan again--but as soon as I touched him, Dylan shrank back, away from me.

"And what happened next?" Dylan asked, and though his voice was a whisper it carried distinctly through the room.

Reggie had the nerve to laugh. "That's a good question. Why don't you ask your boyfriend?"

Dylan turned to me, all panic and fear. My throat still clenched, tears still trailing down my cheeks, I shook my head, stepping forward again-- "Dylan, I'm sorry--I'm, fuck--"

"What. Happened. Next?" Dylan repeated, each word punctuated.

A silence. A deep breath.

"The wolf broke the rabbit's heart," I conceded, and it destroyed me.

Dylan stepped back again, and this time I had the feeling it was because he was struggling to support himself. He glanced around, eyes wildly meeting the gaze of the crowd that was distinctly scattered around us. His mouth fell open and he looked at me with such innocence, such sincerity, such desperation for a denial of the truth.

"This is a joke, right?" he choked, voice thick with the tears he was suppressing. "A sick, twisted joke?"

"Dylan," I started forward, but there was nothing I could say, nothing I could do.

In the time it took me to cross the distance between us, Reggie was delivering his last chilling statement: "The moral of the story, Dylan, is that Thomas Brodie-Sangster never actually loved you. He's been lying to you this entire time."

"No!" I objected, reaching for Dylan. "That's not--"

But Dylan's hand blurred, and suddenly I felt the heat of his palm across my cheek. My head tilted to the side, stunned. When I looked back up, Dylan was backing away, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Dylan!" I pleaded one more time. My voice cracked and broke in the single syllable.

Dylan shrunk under my gaze, looking smaller than humanly possible. His feet stumbled, desperately carrying him away from the pain that was so obviously choking him, but his eyes never strayed from mine.

Then he turned, and the whole world seemed to fold around him as he pushed through the exit doors, taking whatever remained of my shattered heart with him.

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