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Newt was walking through the streets on this winter evening, his coat was thankfully pretty warm and his scarf was long enough to run three times around his neck. The days were still very cold, even with New Year’s Eve a few weeks behind them. He didn't have much to do: his sister had left a week ago and he now felt both free and alone at the same time. It was great to have his family around, but he was also a bit relieved that he was on his own again, that it was a bit quieter...
Suddenly, he saw a woman walking like she was avoiding something on the ground. He looked down and saw a guy laying there. He was probably his own age or not far from it. The guy had black messy hair, he seemed slim but still broader than Newt (everyone was broader than Newt), only in jeans, a sweater and old sports shoes. He was laying on the subway man hole, where the air was a bit warmer but he was still shivering like hell. Newt was so surprised to see him that he stopped dead. Could a guy of his age really be like this in the streets? Was he drunk? Or homeless?
Looking around, the young English man saw that no one was stopping by to see how the guy was doing. They just stepped aside and kept walking. As if they were avoiding some kind of disgusting rubbish. Newt felt his heart ache at the sight of such disdain. The guy didn't even have a cup to ask for money or something: he was just trying to keep warm. Plus his jeans had holes. Newt shook his head: he couldn't just pass by him and act like he hadn't see anything.
He approached and squatted near the guy. Many questions rushed into his mind: what if the guy lost consciousness in front of him? He didn't know any first aid, what if the guy died before the ambulance came? Well, maybe he was being a little over-dramatic. He could hear the brunette's teeth clashing together. How long had he been here? Alone? With no one stopping? Newt first hesitated and then put a hand on the guy's shoulder.
"Hey, mate? Are you okay there?"
The brunette jumped and looked up at him. He had amazing honey coloured eyes surrounded by long dark eyelashes, his skin was fair and pale under the dirt, a few moles here and there. He also had a few injuries as if someone had punched him. He shoot a worried glance at Newt as if wondering if he would beat him or something like that, so the Brit smiled, holding both his hands up in the air.
"Hey, it's okay. I won't hurt you, I promise. What's your name, mate?"
"T-Thomas." The guy whispered between his shattering teeth.
"Thomas, okay. Are you alright? Do you have someone I can call for you?" The blonde suggested, encouraging his interlocutor to talk.
"N-no, I h-have n-no one..." Thomas replied, shivering.
Newt nodded slowly. The guy was on his own then, clearly homeless. He couldn't leave him like that, it wasn't something he could do and not beat himself up about it afterwards. He took off his long scarf and handed it to Thomas:
"Here. It's long enough so you can wrap your torso and shoulders with it. It's warm."
"B-but..." The guy's eyes had widened. "W-what about y-you?"
"Come on, I have my coat. Just put the bloody scarf on or you're gonna freeze to death, you shank." Newt sighed.
Thomas nodded slowly and obeyed. He wrapped his torso with the long scarf and sighed with relief: it was warm indeed. He offered a nice smile to the blonde.
"Thank you. I've been here for hours... I don't even know your name."
"My name is Newt." The British smiled back. "Come on, get up. You can't stay here."
"I have nowhere to go..." Thomas murmured, looking down with a sad expression.
"Well, right now you have that Starbucks over there. I can buy you a hot drink. Then we'll see: I bet there's a shelter somewhere in this town. We're gonna look on my phone, okay?"
The brunette looked at him with amazement. It looked like no one had been kind to him in a long time. Newt smiled a bit more and got up, holding out his hand to help Thomas up. The guy took his hand and followed. He seemed quite shy, looking down at his feet. Or maybe was he ashamed? The blond bent over so their eyes could meet, his voice soft and gentle:
"Hey, greenie... Look up. There's no shame in needing a bit of help sometimes. I'm not here to judge you. I'm nobody to do that. So cheer up, okay?"
"'kay." Thomas offered him a small smile. "It's just... A lot of people pass here. But you're the first one to stop..."
"Don't mention it." Newt shrugged. "Come on. You need a hot drink."
The Brit gestured for the guy to follow him to the Starbucks nearby, continuing talking to cheer him up. Newt was a natural at caring for others, and he didn't at all like to see sadness or despair on someone's features or in their eyes. Thomas seemed really surprised by such kindness. The blonde took out his mobile and looked for shelters: there were many in town... But there were also a few comments about the conditions in there: robbery, violence... And Newt had to admit that he wasn't really sure about that: Thomas was young and had big honey eyes, making him sometimes look like a puppy. And somehow, his mind provided him the words "perfect victim".
Thomas seemed about to say something since they arrived at the Starbucks and got in the waiting line, but Newt cut him off, worried as he put his phone back in his pocket.
"Listen... I don't know you and you don't know me." He could see the brunette's face froze, Thomas probably thought he was going to go away, so Newt explained quickly. "I'm gonna write down the location of a shelter for you but... If the place is shitty just... I'll give you my address and feel free to come and ring, 'kay? It's not a five star hotel but... You know... It's warm."
"You..." Thomas was baffled, watching with wide eyes as the Brit was taking a page of a notebook and writing down said addresses. "Man, you don't know me... I mean... I could be a sociopath, d'you know that?"
"Well, so could I, right?" Newt gave him the paper, shrugging with one shoulder. "I've never been on the streets. But if one day you have a flat and see me in the streets, give me a hand, okay? I may have some stupid pride but... If one day I'm in need. Please help me?"
The brunette looked at him with wide eyes. How could someone be so good hearted? He couldn't believe it... A small smile pulled on his lips: this British boy wasn't just any pretty face, he was a kind soul, a golden one. When Newt asked him what he wanted to drink, he slowly shook his head, surprising the blonde.
"You've been very kind to me. And there are very few people who would do only a little of what you did today for me. Now before you pay me something I have to tell you... I'm not living in the streets and I'm not in need."
"What?" The blonde's eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
"I'm an actor. And you are on TV." Thomas pointed something a bit further on the street.
An Asian guy was holding a camera not so far away from them, a wicked smile on his face. He showed a thumbs up at the two of them. Newt was open mouthed, and almost jumped when a tall and dark-skinned guy put his hand on his shoulder.
"Well, hello, Newt."
The Brit would have asked how he knew his name but since he had quite big earphones, the blonde supposed Thomas had a wire on him. The Asian cameraman came closer, his lens directed to Newt.
"We are working for the TV show "what would you do?" and Thomas is our actor. Please let me introduce you to Minho, our cameraman, the girl behind him is Teresa, our make-up artist and my name is Alby. I'm the director of this small team."
An incredulous smile fought its way to Newt's lips and he laughed, shaking his head. Of course he knew that TV show, he really liked it in fact: people were confronted to a situation in which a person was in need. It could be racism, poverty, all kind of discrimination... Newt liked to see how people reacted to it, sometimes wanting to insult them, sometimes smiling as he believed in humanity again. But never had he thought he would one day be on that TV show.
He looked up to Thomas who was beaming at him. He apologised for letting the blonde think he was in need but he thanked him for his behaviour. Alby thanked him too in the name of all their crew and also in the name of humanity.
"So Newt. If I may ask... Why did you decide to help our actor?"
"Well... I saw him on the ground, shivering, and then I saw everyone avoiding him like he was nothing and..." The blonde shrugged, feeling his throat tightening at the thought. "I felt bad for him. When I arrived in America a few months ago, I didn't have much and if I hadn't met the right people at the right time... It could have been me."
"So you visualised yourself when you saw Thomas freezing on the ground?" Alby continued.
"I guess I did." The British admitted. "And... I don't know. I just felt it wasn't right to walk away. I'd have thought of him for the rest of my life."
"But you invited him to your home." The dark-skinned guy insisted. "Wasn't it a bit too much for someone you don't even know?"
"I didn't think that far ahead..." Newt shrugged again, wondering if someone would think of him as a stupid guy. "It was spontaneous."
"Well, I'm glad I met you today and I think all the crew is very honoured too." Alby said, his co-workers nodding and approving. "Are you okay with appearing in our TV show?"
"Yeah. I'd like it." The blonde smiled.
"Okay. Then we will send you the contract saying that you allow us to use the video and you'll have to send it back to us." Their director informed him.
"All right." He filled a form and left, saying goodbye.
Newt walked away, hands in his pockets. So it was a TV show. Part of him was relieved that this Thomas wasn't really in need and that it was all a scenario for the show... But another part of him was also a bit sad that they didn't have this drink and talk. It was like he didn't help anyone after all. He shrugged and continued walking to go back home. At least, he was good with himself.
Too bad, this Thomas was really a handsome guy. He smiled to himself and shook his head.
****
The day after that, Newt had almost forgotten about it: it was Saturday and he definitely planned to rest. He had taken a shower of course and put on old blue jeans and an orange tank top since his flat was the last one on top of the building and it was bloody warm. He was preparing a bowl of baked beans, not giving a fuck about the cliché he was, when he heard the bell.
Who was it? Brenda? Well she had said she would maybe come by but he didn't expect her so early: it was only noon. It would probably rain later, or maybe there would be a tornado, or even a zombie apocalypse (no, he hadn't be watching The Walking Dead, not at all). He went to the door and opened it.
"Bren', did you fall from your bed or wha-" Newt fell silent in the middle of his sentence.
In front of him was standing that handsome guy from the day before, that actor... But he was much tidier and with no dirt or injuries. Just the holes in his jeans at his knees. Wasn't this guy aware that winter was not over yet? Newt stayed dumbfounded for a few seconds until the brunette smiled awkwardly and murmured:
"Hi."
"Oh, sorry, hi!" The blonde replied. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting - huh - I thought... Damn. Wanna come in?"
"Sure." The guy smiled, entering in the flat. "Sorry I startled you."
"No, it's okay." Newt tried to get his thoughts together. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"
"You filled out a form, remember?" Thomas slightly laughed. "And you gave me your address too... In case the shelter was some shitty place."
"Oh... True."
Now Newt felt a little embarrassed: his flat was always pretty tidy but he didn't have much either. He wasn't poor but he kind of struggled at the end of every month. So he had to make many concessions, principally material ones. He almost felt Thomas' eyes wandering around and judging. Not badly, no, but... Maybe he would thought he just got the place and -
"I'm here to bring you the contract Alby mentioned to you. The one allowing us to get you on TV." The brunette continued, as if it was nothing.
But Thomas was quite shocked indeed: he could see the fridge in the kitchen from where he was standing and there were a few papers with deadlines for payments circled in red, and also a sheet with what must be all the expenses the blonde had during the month... There were also all the discount vouchers you get in the supermarket. But Newt had been so kind to him, more than willing to buy a hot drink for a perfect stranger, knowing that he hadn't expected this expense at all. Yet he had seemed so glad to help.
He looked back at Newt. The Brit was nervous, he could tell that much, and an idea just popped up in his head, so he fished out the contract from his backpack and looked at it, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Oh man..."
"What?" The blonde asked, raising an eyebrow.
"They made a mistake in your name. Double e." Thomas deadpanned.
"Well... Doesn't matter, you know." Newt shrugged.
"It does. The mistake makes the contract invalid and you could change your mind and attack us for putting you on TV." The brunette sighed. "I gotta go back there to correct that. Maybe we can hang out later, what do you think?"
"Huh... Yeah..." The blond murmured, a bit surprised.
"Well, what about dinner? I'll pick you up around seven. Oh, and since we made the mistake, it's on me, okay?" Thomas beamed.
Newt was taken aback. Had he just been invited for dinner by that handsome guy he knew from the day before? Just like that? He felt almost a kind of vertigo. He only nodded and felt his stomach clench as Thomas' smile grew wider. The actor vanished out the door, leaving the British young man in his home, looking at the front door as if he had just woken up.
The brunette almost ran down the stairs and got out of the building. Of course the contract was good, there was no mistake, but that idea was just too good to let it go. He took his bike and rode down the street in the direction of the city centre. He never went that fast but never had he had a good reason for it. Well, maybe the moment he almost got hit by a car wasn't the best of all, so he decided not to think about this near-death experience anymore. He stopped in front of the TV show building and jumped from his bike to go inside. He could have waited for the elevator, but after 2.5 seconds, he ran up the stairs. There were only three floors... Just enough to kill him.
He arrived short-winded at the top of the stairs and almost collapsed on the linoleum floor when the door opened on a strong Asian: Minho. The guy's eyebrows jumped up to his hairline in surprise at the sight of him before laughing out loud his amusement. The bastard. Thomas would have said it if he wasn't breathless.
"What's going on, Thomas? You ran like hell is right behind you."
"I... I have to ask something... W-Where is Alby?" The brunette asked, feeling like his heart and lungs were going to burst. "Did he leave already?"
"Alby? Nah. You're lucky: he got a phone call and is still in his office. Why?" The Asian frowned.
"Tell you later."
And with that, the brunette ran again to his director's office. He didn't bother knocking: Alby was the kind of guy who always left the door wide opened. The dark-skinned man looked up at him for a second and gestured for him to wait, finishing his conversation.
Thomas was fidgeting, trying to be patient and polite... But it wasn't really in his nature to wait. So soon enough, Alby's assistant, Gally, was glaring at him as Thomas was walking in circles in the office, like a lion in a cage. But it didn't calm the brunette and as soon as the man hung up, he blurted out:
"Alby, I need to talk to you."
"No shit." The dark-skinned man smirked, not at all bothered by his actor's behaviour. "I have to go to another shooting this afternoon, can't this wait for me to come back?"
"No. It can't!"
Okay, maybe he was overreacting. But he had always been like that and Alby had known him long enough to know it, so he just sighed and murmured:
"I'm listening."
"Remember that guy from yesterday? The blonde guy? British?" Thomas asked.
"Yeah. What about him?" Alby frowned slightly, visibly not getting where his actor was heading with the conversation.
"Could you pay him for appearing in the show?" The brunette blurted.
There was a silence, only broken by an incredulous exhalation from Gally. The guy couldn't believe it. And it was true that Thomas felt like he was exaggerating too but... He couldn't just let go. And when Alby didn't talk, he continued.
"I went to his place to give him the contract. I know we have a mail service for that but I wanted to thank him personally for stopping to help me. And then I saw his world, Alby... The guy counts every single expense he makes. And yet he willingly offered me something he barely could afford."
"Did he ask you for money?" Gally interfered.
"No, we barely talked! But he was ashamed of his place. In front of me! The one guy he found in the street!" Thomas exclaimed.
"So what? Will you ask for money every time someone helps you on the show?" The assistant continued.
"No! No, but..." The brunette gulped.
"Just because you saw his place doesn't give you the right to ask for that." Gally sighed. "What about all those people who helped you before on the show? Maybe they were extremely poor, maybe they offered you the money they needed to eat that same day. You don't know shit about them. So just because you know this one doesn't give you the right to-"
"It's exactly that!" Thomas countered ferociously before looking back at Alby with sad eyes. "Please, Alby... This once, I know. I can't just stand by and do nothing... I have to do something. To try something..."
Gally rolled his eyes and went back fighting with Thomas while Alby remained silent. Thomas was a good soul, but he wasn't the kind of guy who would let anyone play him. The blonde guy had seemed a pretty fine lad, he hadn't walked by Thomas and then come back with an afterthought, no: he had stopped walking as soon as he had seen the man on the ground.
He had accepted to work on that TV show to be able to see valuable people. People who reminded him that humanity wasn't lost in greed and individuality... What would you do? Everything was in the title. It was as if that blonde guy was on the pavement, in need, and that he walked away. Without a second glance. He looked up to Thomas and Gally arguing. Those two where always loud. He sighed:
"Thomas. It's okay."
"What??" Gally watched him in disbelief.
"What did you just say?" Thomas whispered.
"... What would you do? That's the purpose of such a TV show." He wrote down something on a piece of paper and handed it to the actor. "Give that to the accountant."
A large smile split the brunette's face in two and he jumped on his friend, hugging him tightly.
"Thank you so much, Alby!!" And he dashed out of the office.
Gally looked at his superior with a baffled expression to which the dark-skinned man smiled brightly before explaining:
"The first time we worked together, Thomas read his script and looked at me, so innocent he thought I was an actor too, and asked me directly "and you, Alby? What would you do in such a situation?"... Thomas is just doing what that guy did for him yesterday."
His assistant nodded slowly and looked in the direction in which you could hear the brunette yelling excitedly. Maybe it was a good thing. Another yell. Or maybe not...
****
He still had fifteen minutes left. Or he should say that he ONLY had fifteen minutes left. He groaned when looking once again at his reflection and took off the tie. Too formal. It was just a diner. He didn't need to be overdressed. He sighed and looked in the mirror again: he had grey cigarette jeans, a black shirt now open down to the third button so his collarbones were showing. That wasn't that bad.
He had called Brenda twice (maybe more) to let her know about his dinner plans, his outfit and everything. Was it... Was it a date? No, Thomas only wanted to give him the contract so he wouldn't attack them for putting his face on TV. Nothing more. He inhaled deeply and almost had a heart attack when the bell rang. He went quickly to the door and opened it. Thomas was there, wearing blue jeans, a white shirt and a warm coat over a costume jacket.
"Hey there." He smiled. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah. Let me grab my coat and I'll be there."
The British took his coat and frowned: where was his scarf? He hesitated and then shrugged: he wouldn't die without a scarf and he couldn't let Thomas wait for hours. So he put on his coat and followed the brunette.
"Huh... Before anything." Thomas murmured, a bit embarrassed. "I don't have my driving license so... I'll ride my bike, you can sit behind me."
Newt stared at him with wide eyes for a few seconds and then burst out laughing, holding his stomach. Thomas smiled at that, his cheeks a little bit red, and he waited for the Brit to be ready to go. He took his bike and let Newt climb on behind him. The blonde was still laughing when they went, to the great pleasure of the actor. He could feel Newt's hands on his shoulders and his arms against his back, even through his coat it sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't wait to give the blonde his pay check.
They stopped in front of a small restaurant. It wasn't all that fancy but Thomas had come here various times with Minho and knew the food was good for a decent price. He looked at the blonde:
"Is it okay for you? It's not a palace but..."
"It's fine." Newt nodded with a smile. "I'm good with this one. Not really a palace fan."
The actor invited the Brit to follow him inside and they were greeted by Harriet whose smile grew wider at the sight of Thomas. She looked at Newt and smiled a bit wider before taking them to a table. Was Thomas a regular customer? They sat on their chairs and Thomas handed him the menu he had picked up on the table.
"Get what you want, but let me tell you: the duck is to die for."
"Okay. You know best." Newt smiled, noting in his mind that he has been right: the brunette knew the place.
They ordered, Harriet nodding and telling them that it wouldn't be long, and Thomas took his bag to pick up some papers.
"Here is the contract. Wanna read it?"
"Yeah. I always read the papers before signing." The blonde informed him. "It's a rule."
"You're right. Take your time." The brunette smiled.
Newt nodded and went through the lines. It was a basic contract stipulating that the Brit consented to appearing on the TV show in exchange for the money they... What? Newt stopped and read again this part twice at least before looking up at Thomas:
"What is this part about money I should get?"
"Well, you are part of our show so you should be paid for it." Thomas shrugged.
"Oh... I didn't know people got paid for that..." The British murmured.
"They don't." The brunette admitted, making Newt frown. "I asked Alby."
"What...? Why? Why would you do that?" Newt asked in disbelief.
"I..." For the first time, Thomas wondered if the guy would be glad or take it badly: after all, he had mentioned his stupid pride. "I wanted to do something for you... To thank you and I figured you could use some money."
"Are you saying that because of my flat?" The blonde asked dryly.
Okay, this was getting pretty badly out of hand. Thomas opened his mouth, searching for his words, when he saw the Brit pushing back his chair in order to get up.
"What are you doing?"
"Leaving." Newt deadpanned. "I might struggle with money but that is not your bloody business."
"Newt!" The brunette grabbed his wrist.
"Let go of me." The blonde growled.
"No, I won't." Thomas replied with resolution.
Newt was a bit taken aback: he wanted to punch the guy and at the same time he was quite amazed by his calm and strength. Thomas made him sit by pulling his wrist.
"You're gonna stay. There's no way I'm gonna pay for something nobody would eat. It would be an incredible waste of food."
"Why should I care?" The blonde countered.
"Because you asked me for this." The brunette said, letting his wrist go.
Newt frowned at that sentence: he asked for it? He didn't remember asking for money or anything like that, but he sat back down and glared at Thomas.
"What do you mean by "I asked for this"?" He questioned.
The brunette looked at him with a resolute expression, not letting any other emotion show. After all, he was an actor. He sighed and murmured:
""I may have some stupid pride but... If one day I'm in need. Please help me?""
Newt's eyes widened as he heard his own words. He now remembered saying them. But he didn't mean he needed any help. He looked at the brunette in disbelief and shook his head, sighing a short laugh.
"Even if I needed help, why? Why are you doing this?" His eyes were so sceptical, the actor wondered if many people had hurt him.
"Newt... When I accepted the job, I wanted to make nice encounters: I wanted to prove to myself that good people existed... Do you have any idea of how long I’d been there before you showed up?"
"I don't know. 45 minutes? An hour?" The blond proposed, not really getting what the guy was telling him.
"I stayed three hours on that man hole. Three hours in destroyed jeans and t-shirt. I thought I might as well freeze to death. No one came to me, no one called the emergency number, and no one talked to me just to know if I was okay..." He sighed and looked down. "I really felt like shit. Like I was truly nothing. Three hours in the cold are very long, believe me."
Newt was dumbfounded. Three hours? And nobody asked him anything? Anything at all? He was in shock, and Thomas just cut into his thoughts again:
"And then you came. Out of the blue. You came and were so kind to me. I felt alive again. Worthy again." The brunette gave him a shy sly smile. "So please, Newt... Let me return the favour."
"But I didn't gave you anything at the end." The British murmured.
"Help isn't always something material like money or anything." He smiled gently. "I lied when I said I wasn't in need. I lied because I was desperately in need of attention. Just someone noticing me... And you did."
"I..." Newt didn’t know what to say anymore.
What could he add anyway? He sighed and looked at the contract as if it could give him just one reason to say no. He hesitated and finally grabbed the pen Thomas handed him and signed. He couldn't believe he just accepted money from a TV show without even being an actor. The brunette seemed quite satisfied and took his copy of the contract before Harriet brought them their plates.
"So... Maybe we could start again... Hi, my name is Thomas and I am an actor working for the "What would you do?" TV show."
Newt huffed a smile and shook his head: the man in front of him was clearly some kind of psychiatric case. He smiled nonetheless and nodded.
"Hi... I'm Newt. I was walking down the street when I saw someone on the ground. Freezing."
"No way..." Thomas said playfully.
"Oh yeah, way." The blonde laughed.
"What did you do?" The brunette questioned.
"Oh... You know. Offered him a hot drink... Asked him if he wanted to come to my flat... That kind of thing." The British shrugged.
"And... Why did you help?" Thomas continued, now staring at him while playing with his food with the tip of his fork.
A smile fought its way to the blonde's lips. The question wasn't that innocent. So his answer wouldn’t be either... He gave him a knowing look and murmured:
"I could think about it and find a lot of answers that would be all true and fine and elegant but... The main reason is that... I fell for his honey eyes."
Thomas stopped torturing his food, his eyes locked onto the blonde's. Had he just heard what he heard? The now uncertain smile on the Brit’s face told him he did. He suddenly wasn't that hungry anymore, or better say it was another kind of hunger. He swallowed with difficulty and grinned:
"Only his eyes?"
Relief glittered in Newt's eyes and he laughed, shaking his head: that actor was truly a bugger. He shrugged and ate a mouthful before replying.
"I guess the rest was okay."
It was now Thomas' turn to laugh and shake his head: he loved his companion’s behaviour. Tentatively, he put a hand on his, his fingers almost jumping at the contact from the Brit’s smooth skin. His heart was racing fast but a smile pulled on his lips as the blonde's thumb caressed his fingers.
They ate, talking about everything like the experiences Thomas had been through with the show, and Newt told him about his arrival in the States. How Brenda had changed his life by offering him a job when he was at the employment office looking at the job advertisements. She had stepped into his world without any doubt, and he now couldn’t imagine his life if he hadn't taken her hand. Thomas wanted to meet her just from how incredible she sounded, but Newt decided to first warn him that she had terrible manners; it was ironic of course but she could have quite a strong temper. When they finished their meal, as promised, Thomas paid the bill. He looked then to his companion:
"Would you... Come to my place? I have a few movies or we could just talk a bit more... What do you think?"
"I don't know..." Newt murmured, putting his coat back on and following Thomas outside. "I have work tomorrow."
"Okay, I can drive you back home." The brunette replied, a bit disappointed but trying not to show it.
"Hey..." The British called.
"Hm?" Thomas looked back at him.
"If I told you that... I'd like to have sex with you even if it's our first date..." A sly smile pulled on the blonde's lips as he saw the actor's eyes growing wide. "What would you do, Tommy?"
THE END