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Entry tags:
Fic: All My Life
Title: All My Life
Author: Cesi
Rating: R
Pairing: VM/OB OB/?
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. The characters own themselves, and this beautiful plotline is the product of Star Cinema’s film “All My Life”. I’m just combining one of my favorite movies with my favorite actors, no copyright infringement intended = ) Hope you enjoy.
Summary: The true essence of life is love…A story inspired and based from the film “All My Life” by Star Cinema
A/N: Based on the film “All My Life” by Star Cinema.
Chapter 1-Welcome Aboard
“Welcome to the Costa Magica,” The crew member beamed brightly. She shook his hand warmly, “We’ll be departing in an hour sir.”
“Thank you,” He said kindly, letting her hand go. He stepped into the ship once more, the lobby opening itself before him. He and the other guest were quickly greeted by a line of eager crewmembers.
He smiled in amusement as a group of what sounded and looked like high school seniors fumbled with their things behind him. In front of him, a mother was busy trying to calm her wailing son while arguing with her husband about a certain teddy bear that mysteriously vanished into thin air.
“Welcome to the Costa Magica. May I help you sir?” A voice broke through his thoughts. Viggo turned to see another crew member before him, short and red-haired with a genuinely friendly smile on his face. Viggo handed his travel documents to the worker, who in turn gave a pleasant grin upon seeing the cabin number.
“This way sir,” The worker said, leading him to the elevators.
“Thank you…”
“Billy,”
“Billy,” Viggo replied. As they walked he glanced around him, impressed by the bustling scene. Workers were rushing around trying to prepare the ship and the guest for departure, with smiles on their faces all the awhile. The guests were either standing in line at guest services or simply walking around, taking in the sight and snapping pictures.
“So sir, where’s the lovely bride? Hasn’t run off now has she?” The worker, Billy, joked as they neared the elevator, “She must be really special for you to get that cabin for her, one of our best to be honest.”
“No,” Viggo said with a small laugh, “No bride. Just me.”
“Oh?” Billy sounded convincingly surprised, “I’m sorry sir. It’s just that usually cabins like this one are for newlyweds or couples celebrating their anniversary. Guess I’m not used to seeing someone going there by themselves—Here we are,”
Billy pressed the button to summon the elevator down to them. In a few seconds they heard a pleasant chime as the doors drew open. Viggo was about to step in when he was pushed so roughly aside that he nearly fell over.
“Excuse me—” His words died out as the rude guest stepped into the elevator and angrily punched the button for the door to shut, his eyes turned down determinedly.
“Wait!” Viggo demanded as he tried to lunge inside. But the elevator doors were already more than half way closed, and Viggo jumped back before getting caught between them.
Before they completely closed however, he saw a glimpse of the guest face. It was beautiful. And it was stained with tears.
“I’m so sorry about that sir,” Billy said and he pressed for another elevator, “I—”
“Where is he?” A voice demanded behind them. Viggo turned to see a man, elderly but still very formidable, waiting for the elevator behind them. There was another man beside him, younger and chubby, and strangely enough, scared.
“Mister Lee, he checked in a few minutes ago, perhaps he’s gone to the suite.”
“I want all the outside fax messages and phone calls blocked in his room…The poor boy doesn’t need to hear another lie from that bastard again.”
“Yes Mister Lee…um…sir?”
“What is it?” The older man snapped.
“Maybe you should just let him be for awhile. You know…allow him to calm down? I know he’s your godson and all but he’s twenty five now. Maybe it’s best if you both calm down first.”
“Very well.” Lee said sternly, “I’ll let him calm down. But make sure that everyone here keeps an eye on him. I don’t know what he might do to himself.”
“Sir?” Viggo turned to see Billy nodding towards the open elevator before them. He stepped in, the doors shutting him from the voices of the two men. It was barely an hour since he first set foot on the ship, and a mini drama performance just opened in front of him.
“Who is Mister Lee?” Viggo asked curiously as the elevator glided up.
“Mister Lee owns this ship,” Billy explained, “Actually, he owns an entire fleet of cruise ships. This is just one of many.”
“Oh…that man who pushed me do you know his name?” Viggo asked, feeling a bit ashamed for acting like an interrogating old gossip.
He wasn’t really one to pry into the business of others, but the memory of the young man’s face stuck like car wreck to his thoughts. Viggo could recall the face effortlessly, as if the image were branded into his mind. It was an admirable face, and it would have been breathtaking had it not been for the tears that tarnished the beauty.
“All I know is that I’ve seen him here before, once or twice…and he’s not usually pushing people around. He’s actually very nice.” Billy explained kindly, “And I think he’s also Mister Lee’s godson. Here we are.”
The elevator doors opened with a charming ring into a hallway of doors. As he followed Billy he could see the other guests, most of them obvious newlyweds taking pictures and laughing excitedly about their rooms. Most of them were rushing out of their suites, the wives eagerly leading their husbands away, chattering about the view from the upper decks.
“This is your suite sir,” Billy said as he stopped before a door. Viggo glanced at his luggage neatly placed against the door, took his keycard and slid it through the device attached to the door. A green light blinked and Billy pushed the door open for him.
“Thank you for your help,” Viggo smiled warmly.
“No problem sir, enjoy your stay.” Billy nodded and responded to the call of another guest further down the hall. Viggo pulled the luggage in, closed the door, carefully placed his camera on the table. Without another thought, he leaped like a little sugar drunk three year old on the massive bed.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” He chanted happily. “This is it! This is really it! I’ve done the impossible. I’m on a fucking vacation! A real vacation! Yes!”
He bounced away from the bed, opened the door to the balcony and allowed the cool air to flow inside. He breathed deeply as the sea spread itself before him, big, blue and just waiting to be crossed. With another satisfied sigh he collapsed contently on the bed, stretching himself, taking long deep breaths as he hugged the pillows.
He couldn’t believe he was finally here, truly going on a cruise. He half-expected something from the hospital to show up, demanding that he stay. He even expected his own family to show up at the last minute just like they always do to fuss over him. But so far, everything was going unexpectedly well. No headaches, no pain, no nagging calls from his mother, brothers, or sisters, and no damn appointments.
Everything was going great…except for that stranger in the elevator who he just couldn’t seem to forget. It was strange how such a slight incident dulled his happiness, and even though he knew that it wasn’t his fault or even any of his business, Viggo still felt a tug of pity for the stranger.
“You fucking idiot!”
Viggo frowned at the sudden insult.
“You fucking idiot! Why are you so goddamn stupid! Fucking, goddamn moron why the hell did you fucking believe that shit? Why do you keep playing the fool Orlando? Why do you keep playing the fucking goddamn fool for that bastard! That fucking worthless bastard!”
Viggo stood up as the screams and curses filtered through the wall. Carefully he pressed an ear against the wall only to have that side of his face suddenly punched from the other side. He stared at the wall as his neighbor banged and screamed and cursed.
“Why ?Why?Why? WHY? You’re an idiot that’s why! A fucking idiot!” The voice screamed horribly, the sound piercing Viggo.
“Umm…are you alright?” Viggo whispered against the wall though he knew he probably wouldn’t be heard. There was silence for a few minutes and Viggo suddenly realized that only one voice ever came from the room next door. Was this man insane? Was he fighting with himself? Or maybe there was someone on the phone? Either way the silence scared Viggo even more than the manic screaming a few minutes before.
“He’s a lying bastard…and you believed him…” The voice laughed bitterly before breaking, “You’re such an idiot genius. You deserve it Orlando! You fucking deserved what you got for trusting that—that—”
A grief stricken scream erupted as something was smashed and broken. Viggo kept his eyes on the wall, reaching out a hand to touch it as the screams calmed into sobs. He leaned his ears against the wall until he heard no more.
Viggo didn’t know that his neighbor was cowering against the wall between them, his knees pulled up against his chest. He cried bitterly as he rested his head against his knees, forcing the tears out painfully.
In the heat of his anger he grabbed one of his bags, ripped it open and snatched the wallet hidden within. His eyes landed on the picture tucked carefully away, took it out, and then with great pleasure ripped it like ribbon, tearing away the most hated face on earth until it was pile of triumphant confetti.
“Why?” Orlando sobbed as he shoved the torn pieces away from him, “What did I do?” He kicked the pieces apart, as if they would somehow pull themselves together again if he didn’t stop them.
His eyes fell on the cell phone beside him as it rang over and over again. He snatched it and his anger only fumed more furiously at the number and name displayed on the screen.
“If I ever see you again I’ll fucking cut off everything there is to fucking cut off you fucking god-damn shit!” He cursed at the phone before dashing it against the wall, the device breaking in pieces with a satisfying crack. It brought a wave of grim satisfaction over him, hearing that sorry voice over the line begging him to listen. But no. Not this time. Not ever.
The cabin phone decided to ring then. Orlando got up, grabbed the phone and prepared himself to say every curse he knew… but then a familiar and kind voice came from the other line. Orlando gave a small, weak laugh as the kind words spoke to him.
“I know. I’m sorry I just couldn’t…Thank you for letting me hide here…”Orlando bit back his sobs as his godfather fussed over him over the line, “I didn’t mean for you to worry I—I’m okay. I’m sure.”
After five more minutes of reassurance and encouragement, Orlando hung up the phone and looked around the lonely room. A grand fucking suite for a grand fucking honeymoon. He laughed bitterly at the sick irony, kicking his tossed and messy clothes out of his way. He stuffed them in the drawers and closet, not caring how they looked and desperately trying to block them out. He reached for his camera and tore out the memory card, tossing it into the depths of the drawer, never wanting to look within it again.
His breath hitched as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. He stood silent as he saw himself, remembering all those sweet declarations of love and adoration from a passionate lover’s lips. A moment later he stuck his reflection over and over, overwhelmed with disgust at the tear-stained face.
******
“This one sir?” The woman in uniform asked as she pointed to the photograph.
“Yes, that one.” Viggo answered. The lady nodded in agreement and took the picture from the display, a teasing smile on her face.
“Is he a friend of yours?” The lady asked as she finished the small transaction, “He’s quite handsome.”
She handed the photograph to him and said a courteous goodbye before attending to next guest. Viggo stood by and took the photograph from its covering. Guests were coming in and out of the shops, blocking the flow of traffic while they eagerly searched for the shots the photographers took of them as they boarded the ship. Viggo had only skimmed the pictures through, half amused by the expressions on the visitors faces, when a certain one caught his eye. It was the young man from earlier, that beautiful stranger on the elevator. The picture was a shot of the young man, a smile absent on his face, his eyes heavy and distant. The picture wouldn’t leave Viggo alone. Even when he tried to see the other photographs, his eyes would constantly drift to that one picture until he finally decided to purchase it.
He shouldn’t have done such a thing, he didn’t even know anything about the young man and buying his picture was verging on the first step to obsession. But there was something about the stranger that drove Viggo to intrigue. What was he doing alone in a grand suite? Was he still there? Why was he screaming? Who was he?
Viggo walked on after hiding the photograph with the classy card that came with it. He never thought he could get lost in a boat before, but after a few minutes of fallowing twists and turns his feet stubbornly protested and lead him into a quiet little lounge where he reluctantly sat down. He glanced at the photograph again and then to the clear glass windows that revealed a glorious sunset on the open water. He felt calmed by the sight and relaxed into the red seat that seemed to embrace him.
There was a little menu on the table before him. Classico L’Aquila Bar…He read through the possible choices when his concentration was shattered by a horrendous bullhorn sneeze.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes Uncle Christopher, I’m alright, I just—” Another, less frightening sneeze cut off his words, “I’m probably allergic to something here that’s all.”
Viggo turned towards the voices and just as quickly turned away, fumbling for the photograph. He looked at it then glanced quickly at the table behind him again.
“I don’t think so. You’ve been here before and you’ve never been sick Orlando.”
“It’s probably nothing,” He sneezed again.
Orlando….Viggo whispered the name. He hid the photo once more and sat still, leaning his head towards the glass windows as if he were simply gazing off into thought rather than stealing glances at the stranger.
“Will you stop looking at that thing?” He heard Orlando’s companion say kindly, “You’re here to relax and calm yourself, not to count every minute that passes. You’re on a cruise. Just have fun. I want you to enjoy yourself before you return. And don’t make me throw this planner overboard...”
Viggo turned his eyes to see Mister Lee tap a black planner spread out before Orlando. Before the young man could respond, a crewmember approached them and spoke to the elder gentleman in urgent tones. Orlando watched wearily as his godfather bid farewell and promised to see him at dinner. Orlando went back to his planner, fixing the black framed glasses slipping from his nose. He tapped the pen sternly in a heavy rhythm before he sneezed again.
A pretty long haired waitress came and gave him a glass of water which remained untouched, his hand busy with the pen, his eyes engraved on the planner. Viggo noticed that Orlando was flipping through the pages backwards, jotting down quick notes here and there before moving on to the previous page. He also seemed to find great pain and joy in whatever it was he wrote down. Viggo grabbed a glass of water and swallowed it whole, hoping to look busy when he felt Orlando’s eyes on him. Did the boy notice his stare? He gathered his things and went to the bartender, ordered a light drink and took a less obvious place to view the stranger. Orlando was back to work on the planner, this time scribbling even more furiously than before.
Viggo’s eyes narrowed slightly when he saw a young, rugged man stroll confidently pass him and took a seat on the opposite side of Orlando. He was tall, well built, moderately handsome, and if that smile were any indication, an overconfident playboy. His appearance sparked more questions in Viggo’s mind. Was he a friend? Or maybe a lover? For some reason the thoughts didn’t settle well.
“Hey,” The man flashed a dashing, toothpaste commercial mockery of a smile.
Orlando didn’t even spare a glance.
“Listen,” The man pulled his chair closer to the table, “You seem busy but I—”
“Yes I am,” Orlando replied curtly without looking up from his book, “And I don’t like being interrupted from my work.”
“Oh, come on. You look like you could use some fun. How about you put that pretty little book away and I’ll show you how to really enjoy your visit.” The man said suggestively, boldly taking Orlando’s pen from his hand.
“Are you deaf or stupid? Or are you just fond of annoying people trying to work?” Orlando asked casually as he yanked the pen back, “I tried to tell you indirectly to spare you from embarrassment, but since it just didn’t go through that overconfident skull of yours, I’ll tell you plain and simple…”
He shut the book in the man’s face, got up and stared him down.
“My answer is no,” Orlando said coldly, turning to leave without another glance.
“Wait a minute,” The man held him by the arm. Orlando didn’t even protest, he only stared at the hand keeping him back.
“Let me go,” Orlando said firmly, a slight edge in his voice.
“Come on baby, don’t be like that. No need to play hard to get…”
“Sir, I am hard to get.”
The man loosened his grip as Orlando’s eyes pierced him.
“I don’t go off with just anyone, especially cocksure would-be playboys who think I’d be stupid enough to give them a chance.”
“But babe—”
“And I am not interested by pickup lines taken from cheap convenient store romance novels.” Orlando ripped his arm from the man’s hold.
“If you’re not impressed with those romance novels, maybe you’d like to write a better one. Maybe I can help.”
“Trite, cliché, ripped-off lines without any thought to them but sex do not impress me sir.”
“Said nothing about sex babe, you said that on your own.”
“I know how to read between the lines as easily as I can see through that thick face of yours. I’m warning you sir, leave me alone. I have no time for stupid small talk.”
“Maybe you can make time. How about it sexy?”
“Maybe you should leave me alone before I have you thrown out on the next port.” Orlando threatened darkly. The ridiculously overconfident man’s smile faded, but he still tried to keep it up.
“Holding back the prize,” He whispered lowly in a failing attempt to sound seductive, “Sexy and bitchy. Now I’m sure that you’re my type.”
“Unfortunately sir, you’re not mine. So stop wasting my time.” Orlando looked straight into his eyes before walking away, “I don’t like cheap.”
He was gone in the next second, the black planner in hand, his face showing no remorse for his cutting words. Viggo’s eyes followed him, amazed by how someone so beautiful could hold so much bitterness.
******
“Shit it’s dark,” Viggo murmured as he peered over the railing. It was nothing was pure darkness, he couldn’t even separate the night sky from the ocean anymore as he looked down from the side of the ship.
Even at the top deck he could still hear the roaring music from the dancers below, rocking and swaying to the blasting songs. The top deck was deserted, save for a few crewmembers cleaning up the mess the guests have left. He enjoyed the peace, away from the hectic chaos of the dance below, and simply relished the still moment of solitude.
He turned away from the darkness and sat down on a beach chair, his lungs filling up with the fluttering current of ocean wind. He closed his eyes, feeling at peace amidst the winds, wondering if he should try to open his eyes again or if he should just simply drift away in his sleep…if he should just finally let go.
“No you don’t you damn son of a bitch!”
Viggo’s eyes opened and turned to see a figure emerging from the right, swaying and staggering with a bottle in his hands. He closed his eyes again, trying to ignore the drunkard’s slurred voice as he came closer.
“No…you can’t do that to me! I’m Orlando fucking Bloom damn it. You bastards can’t do that to me…” He hiccupped and mumbled beneath his breath.
Viggo woke up with a sudden startle as a huge sneeze rocked the drunkard.
“Fuck you! Fuck you and the fucking bitches that fucking fuck around!” Orlando held the bottle up as if in a toast before swallowing the liquor down in huge gulps, the stain spilling down his mouth and chin. He staggered onwards and slipped on the wet walkway, his body landing soundly on the deck. He laughed ridiculously as he struggled to get up, reaching for his bottle and hugging it like an old friend.
“Um…Sir?” Viggo whispered as he watched Orlando crawl weakly to the railing, “Sir? You shouldn’t be going there, it’s dangerous…Sir? Sir!”
“Damn it all,” Orlando said as he hugged his bottle, pulling himself up, leaning over the railing into the black water. The glasses fell from his face and disappeared into shadow, the rushing water eating it away.
“Sir?”
“Damn you,” Orlando whispered as the liquor failed to make him forget, as the face conjured itself once again like a nightmare you would always remember, “Damn all your promises you fucking shit…Nothing but broken promises, that’s all your good for you worthless bastard!”
Viggo watched in horror as Orlando flung the bottle into the depths that quickly rushed by.
Orlando forced his eyes to shut, his body yearning to just push itself over, to just fall and surrender to the dark waters.
TBC?
Author: Cesi
Rating: R
Pairing: VM/OB OB/?
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. The characters own themselves, and this beautiful plotline is the product of Star Cinema’s film “All My Life”. I’m just combining one of my favorite movies with my favorite actors, no copyright infringement intended = ) Hope you enjoy.
Summary: The true essence of life is love…A story inspired and based from the film “All My Life” by Star Cinema
A/N: Based on the film “All My Life” by Star Cinema.
Chapter 1-Welcome Aboard
“Welcome to the Costa Magica,” The crew member beamed brightly. She shook his hand warmly, “We’ll be departing in an hour sir.”
“Thank you,” He said kindly, letting her hand go. He stepped into the ship once more, the lobby opening itself before him. He and the other guest were quickly greeted by a line of eager crewmembers.
He smiled in amusement as a group of what sounded and looked like high school seniors fumbled with their things behind him. In front of him, a mother was busy trying to calm her wailing son while arguing with her husband about a certain teddy bear that mysteriously vanished into thin air.
“Welcome to the Costa Magica. May I help you sir?” A voice broke through his thoughts. Viggo turned to see another crew member before him, short and red-haired with a genuinely friendly smile on his face. Viggo handed his travel documents to the worker, who in turn gave a pleasant grin upon seeing the cabin number.
“This way sir,” The worker said, leading him to the elevators.
“Thank you…”
“Billy,”
“Billy,” Viggo replied. As they walked he glanced around him, impressed by the bustling scene. Workers were rushing around trying to prepare the ship and the guest for departure, with smiles on their faces all the awhile. The guests were either standing in line at guest services or simply walking around, taking in the sight and snapping pictures.
“So sir, where’s the lovely bride? Hasn’t run off now has she?” The worker, Billy, joked as they neared the elevator, “She must be really special for you to get that cabin for her, one of our best to be honest.”
“No,” Viggo said with a small laugh, “No bride. Just me.”
“Oh?” Billy sounded convincingly surprised, “I’m sorry sir. It’s just that usually cabins like this one are for newlyweds or couples celebrating their anniversary. Guess I’m not used to seeing someone going there by themselves—Here we are,”
Billy pressed the button to summon the elevator down to them. In a few seconds they heard a pleasant chime as the doors drew open. Viggo was about to step in when he was pushed so roughly aside that he nearly fell over.
“Excuse me—” His words died out as the rude guest stepped into the elevator and angrily punched the button for the door to shut, his eyes turned down determinedly.
“Wait!” Viggo demanded as he tried to lunge inside. But the elevator doors were already more than half way closed, and Viggo jumped back before getting caught between them.
Before they completely closed however, he saw a glimpse of the guest face. It was beautiful. And it was stained with tears.
“I’m so sorry about that sir,” Billy said and he pressed for another elevator, “I—”
“Where is he?” A voice demanded behind them. Viggo turned to see a man, elderly but still very formidable, waiting for the elevator behind them. There was another man beside him, younger and chubby, and strangely enough, scared.
“Mister Lee, he checked in a few minutes ago, perhaps he’s gone to the suite.”
“I want all the outside fax messages and phone calls blocked in his room…The poor boy doesn’t need to hear another lie from that bastard again.”
“Yes Mister Lee…um…sir?”
“What is it?” The older man snapped.
“Maybe you should just let him be for awhile. You know…allow him to calm down? I know he’s your godson and all but he’s twenty five now. Maybe it’s best if you both calm down first.”
“Very well.” Lee said sternly, “I’ll let him calm down. But make sure that everyone here keeps an eye on him. I don’t know what he might do to himself.”
“Sir?” Viggo turned to see Billy nodding towards the open elevator before them. He stepped in, the doors shutting him from the voices of the two men. It was barely an hour since he first set foot on the ship, and a mini drama performance just opened in front of him.
“Who is Mister Lee?” Viggo asked curiously as the elevator glided up.
“Mister Lee owns this ship,” Billy explained, “Actually, he owns an entire fleet of cruise ships. This is just one of many.”
“Oh…that man who pushed me do you know his name?” Viggo asked, feeling a bit ashamed for acting like an interrogating old gossip.
He wasn’t really one to pry into the business of others, but the memory of the young man’s face stuck like car wreck to his thoughts. Viggo could recall the face effortlessly, as if the image were branded into his mind. It was an admirable face, and it would have been breathtaking had it not been for the tears that tarnished the beauty.
“All I know is that I’ve seen him here before, once or twice…and he’s not usually pushing people around. He’s actually very nice.” Billy explained kindly, “And I think he’s also Mister Lee’s godson. Here we are.”
The elevator doors opened with a charming ring into a hallway of doors. As he followed Billy he could see the other guests, most of them obvious newlyweds taking pictures and laughing excitedly about their rooms. Most of them were rushing out of their suites, the wives eagerly leading their husbands away, chattering about the view from the upper decks.
“This is your suite sir,” Billy said as he stopped before a door. Viggo glanced at his luggage neatly placed against the door, took his keycard and slid it through the device attached to the door. A green light blinked and Billy pushed the door open for him.
“Thank you for your help,” Viggo smiled warmly.
“No problem sir, enjoy your stay.” Billy nodded and responded to the call of another guest further down the hall. Viggo pulled the luggage in, closed the door, carefully placed his camera on the table. Without another thought, he leaped like a little sugar drunk three year old on the massive bed.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” He chanted happily. “This is it! This is really it! I’ve done the impossible. I’m on a fucking vacation! A real vacation! Yes!”
He bounced away from the bed, opened the door to the balcony and allowed the cool air to flow inside. He breathed deeply as the sea spread itself before him, big, blue and just waiting to be crossed. With another satisfied sigh he collapsed contently on the bed, stretching himself, taking long deep breaths as he hugged the pillows.
He couldn’t believe he was finally here, truly going on a cruise. He half-expected something from the hospital to show up, demanding that he stay. He even expected his own family to show up at the last minute just like they always do to fuss over him. But so far, everything was going unexpectedly well. No headaches, no pain, no nagging calls from his mother, brothers, or sisters, and no damn appointments.
Everything was going great…except for that stranger in the elevator who he just couldn’t seem to forget. It was strange how such a slight incident dulled his happiness, and even though he knew that it wasn’t his fault or even any of his business, Viggo still felt a tug of pity for the stranger.
“You fucking idiot!”
Viggo frowned at the sudden insult.
“You fucking idiot! Why are you so goddamn stupid! Fucking, goddamn moron why the hell did you fucking believe that shit? Why do you keep playing the fool Orlando? Why do you keep playing the fucking goddamn fool for that bastard! That fucking worthless bastard!”
Viggo stood up as the screams and curses filtered through the wall. Carefully he pressed an ear against the wall only to have that side of his face suddenly punched from the other side. He stared at the wall as his neighbor banged and screamed and cursed.
“Why ?Why?Why? WHY? You’re an idiot that’s why! A fucking idiot!” The voice screamed horribly, the sound piercing Viggo.
“Umm…are you alright?” Viggo whispered against the wall though he knew he probably wouldn’t be heard. There was silence for a few minutes and Viggo suddenly realized that only one voice ever came from the room next door. Was this man insane? Was he fighting with himself? Or maybe there was someone on the phone? Either way the silence scared Viggo even more than the manic screaming a few minutes before.
“He’s a lying bastard…and you believed him…” The voice laughed bitterly before breaking, “You’re such an idiot genius. You deserve it Orlando! You fucking deserved what you got for trusting that—that—”
A grief stricken scream erupted as something was smashed and broken. Viggo kept his eyes on the wall, reaching out a hand to touch it as the screams calmed into sobs. He leaned his ears against the wall until he heard no more.
Viggo didn’t know that his neighbor was cowering against the wall between them, his knees pulled up against his chest. He cried bitterly as he rested his head against his knees, forcing the tears out painfully.
In the heat of his anger he grabbed one of his bags, ripped it open and snatched the wallet hidden within. His eyes landed on the picture tucked carefully away, took it out, and then with great pleasure ripped it like ribbon, tearing away the most hated face on earth until it was pile of triumphant confetti.
“Why?” Orlando sobbed as he shoved the torn pieces away from him, “What did I do?” He kicked the pieces apart, as if they would somehow pull themselves together again if he didn’t stop them.
His eyes fell on the cell phone beside him as it rang over and over again. He snatched it and his anger only fumed more furiously at the number and name displayed on the screen.
“If I ever see you again I’ll fucking cut off everything there is to fucking cut off you fucking god-damn shit!” He cursed at the phone before dashing it against the wall, the device breaking in pieces with a satisfying crack. It brought a wave of grim satisfaction over him, hearing that sorry voice over the line begging him to listen. But no. Not this time. Not ever.
The cabin phone decided to ring then. Orlando got up, grabbed the phone and prepared himself to say every curse he knew… but then a familiar and kind voice came from the other line. Orlando gave a small, weak laugh as the kind words spoke to him.
“I know. I’m sorry I just couldn’t…Thank you for letting me hide here…”Orlando bit back his sobs as his godfather fussed over him over the line, “I didn’t mean for you to worry I—I’m okay. I’m sure.”
After five more minutes of reassurance and encouragement, Orlando hung up the phone and looked around the lonely room. A grand fucking suite for a grand fucking honeymoon. He laughed bitterly at the sick irony, kicking his tossed and messy clothes out of his way. He stuffed them in the drawers and closet, not caring how they looked and desperately trying to block them out. He reached for his camera and tore out the memory card, tossing it into the depths of the drawer, never wanting to look within it again.
His breath hitched as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. He stood silent as he saw himself, remembering all those sweet declarations of love and adoration from a passionate lover’s lips. A moment later he stuck his reflection over and over, overwhelmed with disgust at the tear-stained face.
******
“This one sir?” The woman in uniform asked as she pointed to the photograph.
“Yes, that one.” Viggo answered. The lady nodded in agreement and took the picture from the display, a teasing smile on her face.
“Is he a friend of yours?” The lady asked as she finished the small transaction, “He’s quite handsome.”
She handed the photograph to him and said a courteous goodbye before attending to next guest. Viggo stood by and took the photograph from its covering. Guests were coming in and out of the shops, blocking the flow of traffic while they eagerly searched for the shots the photographers took of them as they boarded the ship. Viggo had only skimmed the pictures through, half amused by the expressions on the visitors faces, when a certain one caught his eye. It was the young man from earlier, that beautiful stranger on the elevator. The picture was a shot of the young man, a smile absent on his face, his eyes heavy and distant. The picture wouldn’t leave Viggo alone. Even when he tried to see the other photographs, his eyes would constantly drift to that one picture until he finally decided to purchase it.
He shouldn’t have done such a thing, he didn’t even know anything about the young man and buying his picture was verging on the first step to obsession. But there was something about the stranger that drove Viggo to intrigue. What was he doing alone in a grand suite? Was he still there? Why was he screaming? Who was he?
Viggo walked on after hiding the photograph with the classy card that came with it. He never thought he could get lost in a boat before, but after a few minutes of fallowing twists and turns his feet stubbornly protested and lead him into a quiet little lounge where he reluctantly sat down. He glanced at the photograph again and then to the clear glass windows that revealed a glorious sunset on the open water. He felt calmed by the sight and relaxed into the red seat that seemed to embrace him.
There was a little menu on the table before him. Classico L’Aquila Bar…He read through the possible choices when his concentration was shattered by a horrendous bullhorn sneeze.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes Uncle Christopher, I’m alright, I just—” Another, less frightening sneeze cut off his words, “I’m probably allergic to something here that’s all.”
Viggo turned towards the voices and just as quickly turned away, fumbling for the photograph. He looked at it then glanced quickly at the table behind him again.
“I don’t think so. You’ve been here before and you’ve never been sick Orlando.”
“It’s probably nothing,” He sneezed again.
Orlando….Viggo whispered the name. He hid the photo once more and sat still, leaning his head towards the glass windows as if he were simply gazing off into thought rather than stealing glances at the stranger.
“Will you stop looking at that thing?” He heard Orlando’s companion say kindly, “You’re here to relax and calm yourself, not to count every minute that passes. You’re on a cruise. Just have fun. I want you to enjoy yourself before you return. And don’t make me throw this planner overboard...”
Viggo turned his eyes to see Mister Lee tap a black planner spread out before Orlando. Before the young man could respond, a crewmember approached them and spoke to the elder gentleman in urgent tones. Orlando watched wearily as his godfather bid farewell and promised to see him at dinner. Orlando went back to his planner, fixing the black framed glasses slipping from his nose. He tapped the pen sternly in a heavy rhythm before he sneezed again.
A pretty long haired waitress came and gave him a glass of water which remained untouched, his hand busy with the pen, his eyes engraved on the planner. Viggo noticed that Orlando was flipping through the pages backwards, jotting down quick notes here and there before moving on to the previous page. He also seemed to find great pain and joy in whatever it was he wrote down. Viggo grabbed a glass of water and swallowed it whole, hoping to look busy when he felt Orlando’s eyes on him. Did the boy notice his stare? He gathered his things and went to the bartender, ordered a light drink and took a less obvious place to view the stranger. Orlando was back to work on the planner, this time scribbling even more furiously than before.
Viggo’s eyes narrowed slightly when he saw a young, rugged man stroll confidently pass him and took a seat on the opposite side of Orlando. He was tall, well built, moderately handsome, and if that smile were any indication, an overconfident playboy. His appearance sparked more questions in Viggo’s mind. Was he a friend? Or maybe a lover? For some reason the thoughts didn’t settle well.
“Hey,” The man flashed a dashing, toothpaste commercial mockery of a smile.
Orlando didn’t even spare a glance.
“Listen,” The man pulled his chair closer to the table, “You seem busy but I—”
“Yes I am,” Orlando replied curtly without looking up from his book, “And I don’t like being interrupted from my work.”
“Oh, come on. You look like you could use some fun. How about you put that pretty little book away and I’ll show you how to really enjoy your visit.” The man said suggestively, boldly taking Orlando’s pen from his hand.
“Are you deaf or stupid? Or are you just fond of annoying people trying to work?” Orlando asked casually as he yanked the pen back, “I tried to tell you indirectly to spare you from embarrassment, but since it just didn’t go through that overconfident skull of yours, I’ll tell you plain and simple…”
He shut the book in the man’s face, got up and stared him down.
“My answer is no,” Orlando said coldly, turning to leave without another glance.
“Wait a minute,” The man held him by the arm. Orlando didn’t even protest, he only stared at the hand keeping him back.
“Let me go,” Orlando said firmly, a slight edge in his voice.
“Come on baby, don’t be like that. No need to play hard to get…”
“Sir, I am hard to get.”
The man loosened his grip as Orlando’s eyes pierced him.
“I don’t go off with just anyone, especially cocksure would-be playboys who think I’d be stupid enough to give them a chance.”
“But babe—”
“And I am not interested by pickup lines taken from cheap convenient store romance novels.” Orlando ripped his arm from the man’s hold.
“If you’re not impressed with those romance novels, maybe you’d like to write a better one. Maybe I can help.”
“Trite, cliché, ripped-off lines without any thought to them but sex do not impress me sir.”
“Said nothing about sex babe, you said that on your own.”
“I know how to read between the lines as easily as I can see through that thick face of yours. I’m warning you sir, leave me alone. I have no time for stupid small talk.”
“Maybe you can make time. How about it sexy?”
“Maybe you should leave me alone before I have you thrown out on the next port.” Orlando threatened darkly. The ridiculously overconfident man’s smile faded, but he still tried to keep it up.
“Holding back the prize,” He whispered lowly in a failing attempt to sound seductive, “Sexy and bitchy. Now I’m sure that you’re my type.”
“Unfortunately sir, you’re not mine. So stop wasting my time.” Orlando looked straight into his eyes before walking away, “I don’t like cheap.”
He was gone in the next second, the black planner in hand, his face showing no remorse for his cutting words. Viggo’s eyes followed him, amazed by how someone so beautiful could hold so much bitterness.
******
“Shit it’s dark,” Viggo murmured as he peered over the railing. It was nothing was pure darkness, he couldn’t even separate the night sky from the ocean anymore as he looked down from the side of the ship.
Even at the top deck he could still hear the roaring music from the dancers below, rocking and swaying to the blasting songs. The top deck was deserted, save for a few crewmembers cleaning up the mess the guests have left. He enjoyed the peace, away from the hectic chaos of the dance below, and simply relished the still moment of solitude.
He turned away from the darkness and sat down on a beach chair, his lungs filling up with the fluttering current of ocean wind. He closed his eyes, feeling at peace amidst the winds, wondering if he should try to open his eyes again or if he should just simply drift away in his sleep…if he should just finally let go.
“No you don’t you damn son of a bitch!”
Viggo’s eyes opened and turned to see a figure emerging from the right, swaying and staggering with a bottle in his hands. He closed his eyes again, trying to ignore the drunkard’s slurred voice as he came closer.
“No…you can’t do that to me! I’m Orlando fucking Bloom damn it. You bastards can’t do that to me…” He hiccupped and mumbled beneath his breath.
Viggo woke up with a sudden startle as a huge sneeze rocked the drunkard.
“Fuck you! Fuck you and the fucking bitches that fucking fuck around!” Orlando held the bottle up as if in a toast before swallowing the liquor down in huge gulps, the stain spilling down his mouth and chin. He staggered onwards and slipped on the wet walkway, his body landing soundly on the deck. He laughed ridiculously as he struggled to get up, reaching for his bottle and hugging it like an old friend.
“Um…Sir?” Viggo whispered as he watched Orlando crawl weakly to the railing, “Sir? You shouldn’t be going there, it’s dangerous…Sir? Sir!”
“Damn it all,” Orlando said as he hugged his bottle, pulling himself up, leaning over the railing into the black water. The glasses fell from his face and disappeared into shadow, the rushing water eating it away.
“Sir?”
“Damn you,” Orlando whispered as the liquor failed to make him forget, as the face conjured itself once again like a nightmare you would always remember, “Damn all your promises you fucking shit…Nothing but broken promises, that’s all your good for you worthless bastard!”
Viggo watched in horror as Orlando flung the bottle into the depths that quickly rushed by.
Orlando forced his eyes to shut, his body yearning to just push itself over, to just fall and surrender to the dark waters.
TBC?