I almost – almost – had sympathy for him.

“Well Mr. North, I have had a few sips of amaretto and I am still trying to figure out who drank the rest. The bottle is empty and I don’t know how; it was full a few hours ago. I'm suspecting goblins, but who the hell knows, eh?”

“Tash, are you drinking, well, drunk, because of me? Did I do this to you because of today?” he groaned sadly.

“Of course I am, you clueless knob!” I laughed harshly, all tact gone, and feisty Geordie Tash taking over. “You have crushed me, absolutely crushed me… don’t you remember, you silly man? Let me remind you then,” I coughed and mimicked a deep Canadian voice, “‘I don't like you like that, don’t read anything into it, it was nothing, we are nothing’. I paraphrase, but I reckon you remember well enough!”

“Please, Tash. Stop,” his voice cracked. “Can I come over? Can I come and see you?”

That stilled me, all humour gone. “Come over and I’ll break your legs.”

His breath hitched at the end of the line.

“You were right, Mr. North. From this day we shall no longer see each other, and I don’t think I can keep on liking you like this. You know what’s funny? I have been falling for you, like big-style falling for you – the laughs, the time spent together, the touches, the smiles, just... you for you, not the movie star, just you. Just my Tudor. I thought you were special to me, I thought I was maybe special to you, too. You sometimes act like I am, you lead me on. How funny does that sound, right? Mr. Superstar liking little old me? It was stupid of me to even think it. Mr. Unattainable, Mr. I-live-to-torture-Tash. What a fool I am, but hey, at least I know now that you are the emotionless twat that I first suspected, and that you think me less than shit on your shoe – just another man to disregard me, and toss me aside. If you try to come over I swear I will go Newcastle on your arse and–"

The phone was ripped from my hands by Tink, who must have finally gotten through the lock. “Tudor, I heard everything she said. Leave her the f**k alone or I’ll be forced to intervene, and don’t fool yourself into thinking that a fairy can’t hurt you. When it comes to Wil, I’ll take on anyone or anything to protect her. You got that, butch?” and he hung up.

He knelt down in front of me, putting a hand on each knee, and asked in a soothing voice, “Are you okay, my little sausage?”

With that, the floodgates of my pain opened and I cried. I cried all night long. I must have blacked out at some point, as the next thing I knew it was morning. Tink was lying next to me, and flashes of the previous day came back to haunt me. We are nothing.

I was numb to it, numb to Tudor, numb to being treated like crap. Tink edged closer to me and kissed my head. He knew how I felt and that no words could comfort me. No explanations needed.

It was simply time to move on. No more Tudor North.

Tudor bloody North!

* * *

It was Tuesday before I knew it, the day before the show’s opening night. I was in my classroom getting all of the final details tied up – programmes, call sheets, props lists – when there was a gentle knock at the door. In walked Boleyn.

“Hey Boleyn, are you okay?” I asked, noticing for the first time just how similar in colouring she was to Tudor. Saying that, I had also thought the burn marks on my toast looked like him that morning – tattoos included.

Yep, I’m definitely moving on!

“Yeah, Miss, I just wanted to speak to you about tomorrow night.”

“Of course, come and take a seat.”

Boleyn sat down opposite me, and was all smiles.

“Are you excited, chuck?” I asked her.

“Yeah I can’t wait, Miss, I’m really nervous, but excited as well. Erm, I came to see you about seating tomorrow night for my family.”

“Sure, how can I help?”

“Well, as you know my brother is kind of… well known. You remember you met him a while ago?”

My heart sank. Tudor had obviously not mentioned to his family that he had been seeing me, even as a friend. Just more strings to his ever-secretive bow.

I nodded at her question. “I remember, Boleyn.”

“Well, he wants to come tomorrow to see me, but doesn’t want to cause a commotion by sitting in the auditorium. No-one’s supposed to know we’re related, right? Is there anywhere he can sit out of sight? I really want him there to see me perform.” She looked so nervous, it was obvious just how much her big brother meant to her.

“Well, we do have the theatre boxes. Box six is out of sight, high enough that you can’t see into it from the Dress Circle and Stalls. We can put your family there, maybe? Yes, that could work. The rest of the boxes are being left empty, but in your circumstance I'm sure we can make an exception.”