Title: The Warning Sign

Disclaimer: I do not own Orlando Bloom - le sigh!
Everything is a product of my imagination - double le sigh! I do own Victoria De Mulder.

Copyright@Bloomiecurse: do not take without permission.

Rating: R

Summary: Victoria is a Research Assistant involved in the writing of a movie script. During a rainy London morning she meets Orlando Bloom, and the curse that has haunted all her life starts to get a meaning.

Prologue

The thrust was quick and smooth, a bolt from the blue, and the blade slid easily through the silky white doublet like a knife through butter.

A small red rose showed up right in the spot where the man had just been hit, a tiny bud opening its petals, adorning the immaculate white cloth with the very fluid of life… pulsing, warm, ruby blood.

The cold blade withdrew, and a myriad of fatal shudders shook the young vital body. The cavalier jumped forward and thrust, then drew back a sword dripping blood. He tried to breathe deeper and deeper as standing straight up to defend himself from another attack, one hand on the offended part, the other holding his beloved sword. He shouted as he charged his assailants once more with feverish rage, conscious of the fact that he was seriously risking his life this time.

Four to one, and nowhere to run or hide… this was quite the nightmare!

Eyes fixed and flaming, mouth curled in a painful grimace, teeth clenched, the man kept on fiercely bearing back his foes, crossing his steel fast and vigorously, despite his painful wound and a tingling weakness which was starting to rule his body. His head spun, maddened by loss of blood and the certainty that this could not end well. Faster than expected, the man he had just stained pierced his back with a dagger, violently, furiously assaulting him from the back in the last action his diminishing life allowed him. There was a sharp yell, as his blood started to pour out of his body, flooding the ground below. The wounded man could feel his life leaving him with it.

Breathe, breathe! He thought to himself, gasping for air as if it could compensate the blood he was losing far too quickly. Breathe and think of a way to get out of this situation! As long as you are able to breathe, you still have hope!
He repeated to himself, but to no avail. As another thrust pierced his breast, he lost his balance and fell to his knees, eyes widened to keep his vision clear.

In one last effort he tried to stretch his arm to fight the opponent standing proudly in front of him, ready to deliver the final blow. His life was now lost, he knew it, but his honor had to be defended till the very last drop of blood! He clenched his jaws, looking at his enemies sideways, and tried to stand up once more. He slipped in the puddle of blood he was sitting in. The sunset stretched queer and mourning shadows on the path, the silence broken only by the unsteady breath of a man whose life was nearing its end. His eyes kept blinking in a last attempt to remain attached to his existence, still incredulous that this had really happened. After the thousand of duels he had been caught in, this time was really it! His end! Raw and unmerciful, the black cloaked lady was standing there in front of him, claiming the forfeit of his life. Muffled sounds and voices buffeted his ears, and blurry, dark images spun around him. His lifeline was now too thin to grip.

“Kill him, hurry!” a voice cried in a thick Spanish accent. “Los ordenes son estrictos!”
It was the last sound he heard.
Was this really the end?
He had tried to imagine his death, several times, but he never believed it could happen this way, not once!

These were the almighty god’s plans for him? To have his dreams shattered pitifully against this ominous end? A sudden lonely image appeared in the restless whirling of his mind: two intense dark eyes, silently begging to come along in what was turning out to be the last journey of his life. A charming and naïve pair of eyes, teary and beautiful in their fright. But that was the end: any joy, any sorrow, any hope, any regret, any dream were now quickly dissolving in his last breath.

What can I say? Yay for posting? :lol:

ah.. The Warning sign....

I am not going to spoil... but for those who haven't read it yet.. you must! you really must! this story has sooo much potential and an awesome plot!

too bad you never continued writing it cause it is truly amazing!

Ooooh..
That sounds good!
(Peiyu don't say anything, I saw it was rated R, but you know me...)
I love your style of writing and this is different
And though everyone read it I DIDN'T
So..

I second that

:P

^that was me
the 'Remember Me?' thing doesn't seem to be working..
<_<

God... I already told you on teh WB...
this start is so amazing!

Completely captivating and fascination - marvelous *lol*

I am sooo happy you post this here, because I actually never got to really read it, and now I promise i will :)

huggles
Laila
:baby:

1

She groggily opened her eyes, while the frantic regularity her phone’s ringing was hitting her ears like thousand tiny daggers. The morning sun was struggling to make its way through the thick layer of heavy clouds that were masking the sky, weak beams shyly trespassing through her window’s curtain. She reached out to the nightstand to grab the receiver, running a hand through her hair in a first attempt to gather her thoughts. She knew she was supposed to be doing something very important that morning, but yet couldn’t recall what.

She had gone to bed very late the night before, totally drained by the hard work at her PC, which, she was just realizing now, she had forgotten to switch off, like any other given night in the past months. The glowing colorful screen saver was the first good morning of the day, as it had been for a long time now. And even that night her few sleeping hours had been haunted by the dreary images of her recurring nightmare. It was something which had turned her nights into a tiring sequence of fear, pain, and frustration mixing up rapidly and confusingly in suffocated and unconscious gasps, leaving to her lonesome soul a deep sense of helpless angst.

She finally answered the phone, trying to avoid any sudden movement. The throbbing of her temples was definitely unbearable, and she knew from past experience that a morning headache announced a hateful annoying day, something that even the highest dose of Advil could not take away. Her distressed mood would warn everyone who knew her well to keep away in order to stay safe and avoid any useless argument!

“Victoria!” a loud male voice came from the other end. “What the hell are you still doing at home?”

“Yeah! Good morning to you Lennon!” she groaned while sitting bolt upright in her bed.

Lennon owned the gracious quality of being unable to enter other people’s lives on tip toes. He was always in an exaggerated mode, whatever the occasion was. Before being a colleague of hers, he was a good friend, and she was used to forgiving him whatever he did. Those rare occasions which revealed Lennon being as quiet as a well fed baby used to worry her more than bad news on the headlines, as they were sign of serious problems with her friend’s life. She had had the chance to get to know him extremely well. They had been hanging out since freshmen year at college, and she couldn’t imagine her life without the presence of the perspicacious wit and total madness he carried within himself, which it was her stubborn belief that only extremely smart people could hide inside.

Smart …and gay!

But that was another story and something she had to accept at the earlier stages of their relationship, when her silly crush feebly crashed against the raw declaration of his true sexual inclination. They had been inseparable ever since, and Lennon turned out to be the best girl-friend in a man’s body ever. Actually, he was more than a friend. She used to imagine him amongst the members of her family, when picturing their faces in the back of her mind. She could be capable of any dangerous deed when it came to defend or help him, sure that he would surely do the same for her.
But this time, and she would find it out soon after, Lennon had a reasonable excuse to be so hyper, and she would have repented for thinking ill of him once more, and asked for forgiveness.

“Vicky, do you have any idea of what time it is?” Lennon’s voice was squealing and excited, almost bugging to Victoria’s ears.

“You are supposed to be here to attend you know what kind of meeting…” his voice sounded ironic when pronouncing the last words “within…” he paused the time enough to make a rapid count of the time “half an hour!”

“Holy Jesus! You are right!” she uttered, bringing a hand to her forehead, and suddenly remembering what the urgent matter was she had to take care of.

“You’ll have another argument with Daniel this morning! I can feel it!” he snorted “I hope I won’t be asked to stay when he’s going to boss you around for the zillionth time!”

“Let me go, Lennie, I’ll phone you back from my cell once in my car!” she gulped, ignoring the hint about her complex relationship with Daniel Etheridge.

“I am afraid you’ll never make it!” that was the hopeless response she obtained from Lennon’s part.

“Shall we bet on it?”

I think Lenny is right, actually ;)

Thank god he is... hehe

Oh I am so exited to read this :)

*huggles*
Laila

Cool!
LoL! Lennon seems to be one hell of a funny character!
Umm.... What kind of meeting?? :huh:

Needin' more ;-)

*Flor

2

Victoria hung up without even waiting for her friend to answer to her provocation, and quickly jumped off her bed to jog to the bathroom for a quick shower.
She knew she would be late but she would do her best to get there the earliest she could.

She knew Daniel too well to expect he would be soft to her once she'd get to his office, but she also knew that once the raging storm of his scolding would have passed, he would have been the usual, loving person she had known for years.

Daniel entered Victoria's life when she was still a child, perhaps too young to actually understand the real reason why. Although many years had passed since then, she kept a clear memory of the very first day she met him, in the bottom of her heart.
Her father had died when she was only five years old, and since then existence for little Victoria hadn't been extremely cheerful.
Her mother, Gemma Beauchamp a stunningly beautiful and skillful auctioneer at Christie's London, started neglecting her more and more as time passed by, since the loss of her father, keeping on traveling and working as if nothing extraordinary had affected their lives, and leaving little Victoria and her brother William to their grandmother's cares.

Victoria suffered silently for this sudden lack of attention from her mother's part, especially because it had coincided with the event she had tried to refuse with all her strength. Since the day she was told her father would never come back home in the evenings she had lived in stubborn denial. Her adoration knew no limits and she kept on hoping that one evening or the other the main door would open and her father appear, hiding behind his back one of his small presents, the ones he used to bring her constantly. Stephen liked spoiling her, as she was his little gem, and used to do his best to accomplish this task, even when his wife used to reproach him for being too soft on Victoria.

And little daddy's girl Victoria waited reticently for days, which turned into months and then into years, to finally see the beloved man enter their house, or her grannie's once again, refusing to listen to whomever would tell her there would not be a chance for it.

Her mother had suddenly become a sort of enemy, a stranger who could only tell her what to do and what not, every time she remembered to get back home to her children.
Victoria could not yet understand that, at that time, that was the only way Gemma had to come to terms to what had happened to the man she loved passionately and deeply, and serious addiction to work was the only thing that could make her life slightly bearable: leaving her two children to the affectionate care of her husband's mother didn't seem the bad idea to her. William and Victoria would have been raised in a prosperous environment, intellectually stimulated in order to let them develop into grown-up independent thinking witty persons. Jacqueline, her mother in law, had done such a brilliant job with her son! She couldn't fail with her two children! And they were brought up like any other De Mulder had before them, following the habits and traditions of a very wealthy and powerful family, with traces of nobility in their blood, a family in which all male representatives had been fed and raised to become barristers, proud members of The Law Society. Victoria's dad, Stephen, was one, and William became one as well, and now used to wandering around the house with his collar and bands as if it was de riguer.

Daniel was a sort of ray of light piercing the dark of her first years without her daddy. The memory of their first encounter was still vivid, set like a fire mark in the bottom of heart: one fine day her mother arrived at the De Mulders' mansion accompanied by a tall stranger. Victoria was impressed, extremely impressed by his height: to her looking at him meant raising her chin up, nose up like when she used to gaze at the stars in the sky. He was a giant, one of the fairy tales she was told at those times, but oddly, she wasn't much afraid of him, only a bit intimidated, like she used to be with any other stranger.

"So, Victoria! You don't want to get to know Daniel?" her mother had asked her, leaning forward to her, hands over her knees. She tried to hide behind her grannie, shaking her head silently, small fingers gripping her grandmother's long skirt tightly, but fiercely meeting the tall man's deep blue eyes, in a defensive attempt to understand if she had to trust him or not.

It was a hard task for Daniel to conquer this little girl's heart, but at the end, by the time her mother announced they would have been a family, he had become her best friend. He was her confidante for all the long nine years they lived under the same roof, the hand to which she had gripped more than once in times of need, the man who, unlike her mother, who scarcely allowed herself to hold her child, used to be affectionate, friendly and available any time she or her brother needed him. He was always careful not to replace her father, yet he was the only father figure she recognized in that sort of silent understatement that her relationship had turned into.

He was good to both Victoria and William, but he shared with her a sort of privileged bond, which helped her to become the woman she was.
He was able to tickle her interest in knowledge, always being careful to treat her like an adult, transferring to her his passion for reading and books only with his example, never imposing it on her. His career of movie director used to take him often away from home and London for relatively long periods. It was his habit, before leaving, to organize special treasure hunts only for her.

He used to scatter little riddles about their house, riddles she had to solve in order to find out the secret hiding places for books he wanted her to read. She used to be quite good at this game, waiting for his homecoming with anticipation and excitement, because she would be able to show him her ability at deciphering enigmas, talk with him about those tales and finally discover funny details about his trips.

It was mainly because of Daniel that she majored in English Literature and decided to go further in the academic career, taking a PHD in History of the English Theatre and eventually becoming a Research assistant of History of the Theatre at the London University.

Her passion for books was very likely ignited by those games and the love and admiration she felt for that man, the second good thing, after her father, her mother had been able to bring to her life.

Daniel remained a solid important figure even after her mother and he split up. Victoria knew he loved her as if she were his own daughter and kept an eye on her whatever she was doing.
She felt eternally grateful to God for that, because if the almighty had decided to give her a cold, stern mother and take away her beloved father, he had repaid her generously with her grandmother and Daniel.

It was the very Daniel who involved her in the writing of the screenplay for his last movie. She accepted the offer immediately, without being asked twice. The story told in the script was about a life she literally fell in love with back in her teen years, a story of an unlucky existence cut off prematurely, something she had been studying and researching since her years at university. And on the plus side, this would allow her to cooperate with her best friend Logan, her stubborn friend, the one who was considered one of the most skilled upcoming screenwriters of the British show business.

The project was taking over her whole life, so far. She had been working on it, officially, for eight months and it was ruling her existence. Days were turning into nights and quickly into new days so frantically, she totally got lost in time and even space sometimes! Forgetting meals, or dates, holidays, birthdays or parties she had been invited to; this was all part of that long and extenuating experience which her work had turned into. But she loved to be part of this project, and she didn't want anything or anyone to interfere with its realization. She considered it a sort of child, and the kind of work they used to develop everyday was so challenging and not very much different from what she used to do for a living.


She knew Daniel would chew her out for her delay. It was something he could not stand, especially from her. He expected her to be always perfect and irreproachable, serious and professional, focused on her activity when at work, gentle and smiling with everyone, strict and merciless with her writing. When working with him no one had to understand that there was something more than professional relationship they shared. He did not want anyone to think that she was privileged because of their past. She had a clear idea of what was to come: she felt respect and affection for the older man, but she couldn't avoid conflicts with him, and couldn't help shutting up in such occasions as these. Hell could be unleashed in a matter of seconds.

But she also knew she had to keep herself quiet this time! They were supposed to meet the whole cast for the new movie they were still writing down the screenplay for, and making a fuss in front of them wouldn't be a good idea, she reckoned

Even if being late wasn't a good one either.

She mentally prepared herself to get a sound scolding, put on a multicolored cap and left her house.
The meeting had already started fifteen minutes ago.

oh dear...

poor victoria!
Veeeeery poor victoria actually...

but then again, maybe not ;)

hehe

keep it coming sweetie


hug
Laila

3

“Bloody fuckin’ hell!” Victoria hissed through her clenched teeth, slamming the steering-wheel as she forced her Mini Cooper to slow down and finally stop on the highway, her silver car forming the tail of a long colored metallic snake.

She didn’t need a traffic jam! Not in that very moment! The meeting had already started twenty minutes ago, and she was still on her way to Daniel’s office. This was a true disgrace!
Muttering curses under her breath, she wore her ear-gear and dialed Lennon’s number: she had to let him know at least, and beg him to find a reasonable excuse with Daniel.
Lennon’s phone rang over and over again and she started tapping her fingers on the steering-wheel nervously, while trying to understand what had happened exactly. This highway was usually quite free this time of the day.

“Vicky!” Lennon finally answered in a hushed tone “Where the hell are you?” she could hear voices in the background, Daniel’s easily recognizable among the others, professional but cheerful.

“Oh Lennie!” Victoria ran a hand nervously through her hair “I’m stuck in the middle of a bloody traffic jam!” she whined helplessly, scanning with her eyes the landscape around her. “I won’t ever be able to make it to the meeting!” she said in a sigh.

“Oh! Good!” he gulped while exiting Daniel’s office “Vicky: Daniel has started without you!” he said eventually in a normal tone “But I reckon you were expecting him to do it, weren’t you?”

“Yeah!” she groaned “I know him, and wasn’t asking that much! But I am really sorry! I know how important this is for us all!” She let out a frustrated sigh. “Meeting all the actors now I mean…”

“Well, Vicky! I’ll try to explain it to Daniel, but I am afraid you are going to cope with him once you get your gracious butt over here, sister!”

“Don’t tell me!… I actually can’t decide if it’s better remaining stuck here amidst all these cars or facing him!” she received a warm laughter as an answer.

“And… Lennie?” she tried to catch his attention before he hang up.

“Yes?”

“How is the cast?” Lennon paused a while before answering.

“What kind of question is this?” he replied in a surprised tone.

“Do you believe they are going to get along or…?”

“Vicky!” Lennon’s tone reproached her for her silly question “That’s a million dollars question! And maybe this is not your top priority at the moment, isn’t it?”

“You are probably right, Lennie!”

“I know!” he said satisfactorily: he was always pointing out at her how right he used to be in most of the things he was caught in, more to get on her nerves than because he really reckoned to be hundred per cent right. “Try to get out of there and hurry up, sweetie!” he then added in a brotherly way.

“I’ll do my best, Lennie, but I am afraid it’ll take long! There must have been a serious accident…”


She rummaged her purse to take out her packet of cigarettes, and turned off the engine.
There was no need to keep intoxicating the air if she couldn’t get a chance to move an inch further, after all! She lit up her cigarette and turned her head to look outside her car window. The sky was getting darker and clouds were welling up belligerently, forming swift and strange figures. She would have started guessing their shapes, like when she was a child, but the slow movement of the metallic colored snake brought her attention back to reality.

She turned the engine on again and slowly shifted into gear to proceed a bit further.
London’s weather was getting crappy once again, but this wouldn’t bother her much, were it another average day. The fact was that everything seemed to go the wrong way that day, and she was only wishing to get out of that mess as soon as possible! Not to mention the fact hat she was starting to suffer from serious caffeine withdrawal. In the rush of the morning she had avoided having her morning dose intentionally, so as not to waste a single minute, and now it was the only thing she could think of.

If she recalled right, there should have been a sort of resting area in close vicinity, and if it hadn’t taken ages she could have stopped there for a coffee and maybe waiting for all this hell to turn back into normality. She hummed drolly over the song played by the radio and felt comforted by the idea of getting some hot coffee soon. The world didn’t suck so much, after all!

Twenty minutes later she was parking her car in the huge resting area’s parking lot. It turned out that there had been a serious accident and that probably things would remain still for a while. As she got off her car her attention was hit by the roar of a powerful motorbike, a black glowing Honda Steed pulling up in a parking lot in front of her. The man driving it gave a quick glance around and took off his full-fingered gloves before raising his hands to his black helmet to release the chin strap. For an instant his eyes lingered over her, dark round intense pools, but when they met hers they quickly shifted elsewhere. She shook herself from that sort of odd surprise her heart had gotten caught into for such a simple action, locked her car and strode towards the coffee-shop entrance, fingers playing nervously with her car keys.

She sat at a table facing the huge coffee-shop window: it had just started raining and she adored watching the world outside fading its colors to gray when rain used to wash it. Not that the landscape could have given her particular impressions, as all around there only were anonymous cement constructions, monuments to manhood progress!
But it was another one of her weird habits, something she used to do absent-mindedly, even at home: standing in front of the window and observe the world outside being distorted by rain.

Distorted and purified.

She ordered a large black coffee with a croissant, and took out her handy from her bag, struggling with the loads of things she used to bring around in it. She intended to give Lennon updates about her hopeless morning adventure through London traffic, via sms. She wouldn’t disturb the meeting once more and possibly put Lennon in a difficult position with Daniel. But she did want to let them know the real reason why of her absence and to her this seemed the most harmless way.

She started tapping her fingers over the keypad when her thoughts were disturbed by a deep male voice.

“Do you mind if I sit here, Miss?”

She raised her eyes to find out whom the voice belonged to, and was struck by the intensity of the gaze of the man in front of her.
Her soul was surprisingly shaken by simply staring at him, and it took her a short while before she could articulate an answer.

“Aermm…” she quickly looked around to find out to her own dismay that the Cafè was overcrowded. “Sure!” she then resigned to say yes, weird sensations stirring deep inside of her. “Have a seat!” she then added raising her arm in the direction of the chair across the table.

“Thanks!” the man sat in front of her and smiled warmly, white teeth appearing timidly through his pink lips.

I can only say these:


: Love how you describe Victoria and Daniel's relationship.
: :love: OB's description.

That was kind of obvious actually :P
*hides*

4


The dark haired man placed his helmet and gloves on the table and rubbed his dark goatee, grimacing comically.

She soon linked him to the motorcyclist she had just spotted outside the Cafè, and commented to herself that at a short distance he was really charming: something in his irregular features made him attractive, and the light shining in his dark eyes told her he was aware of the effect he had on women. She avoided looking at him any further for this specific reason, she was not going to be one of the list, and after throwing at him a circumstanced smile, leaned her head once again to stare at the display of her cell to keep on writing the sms for Lennie. And even if that kept her busy for a while, in the back of her mind she kept figuring that man’s face, and repeating to herself that that stranger seemed extremely familiar.

She tried to keep herself from glancing sideways at him, but failed miserably. She lingered her eyes over his face pretending she was looking out of the coffee-shop window more than once. The temptation to discern if she had ever been part of his life, even for a short while, was too strong to resist.

The Cafè was a large one but people crowded it like ants in an ant-nest during summer time. Many drivers had had the same idea to stop there and have something warm to drink while waiting for the order on the street to be reestablished.
He could have sat almost anywhere; asking this or that stranger to share the table wouldn’t have troubled him too much, but some odd force had pushed him to ask that girl he had noticed few minutes before in the parking area.
Actually, he had searched the crowd when entering the warm place with a creeping hope to see her once again! The impression he had gotten from the quick glance they had exchanged out in the parking lot had left inside him an odd sensation, something very close to a sudden and inexplicable nearness, as if they had known for years, as if they had shared the same needs, fears, passions…

He glanced at her trying to spot her face partly hidden by her long straight black hair, which had fallen over her cheeks when she had leaned her head over the small glowing silver handy, to look once again in the depth of her dark velvet eyes, and surprised himself with his own eagerness. She was a very pretty girl, but not as stunning as the ones he used to hang out with.
He mentally smiled to himself. Stunning, sexy, sometimes boring, sometimes exciting Prada top to toes dressed up beauties; his life had been studded with many of them so far. At first, it had been an exciting dream, but his initial enthusiasm had been gradually fading, crumbling into gray emotionless habit.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault, after all, if he had been bored to death with everything and everyone populating his life lately. No one was to be blamed, not even the poor girl he was dating at the moment, bless her heart! She assured him that she loved him honestly and would wait for him to regain his hunger for life, the attitude that had always been his peculiarity.
It wasn’t even his agent’s fault, who kept on sending him thousand of scripts in the hope to have him finally before a camera!

No! No one was to be blamed for it. He only needed to get a break from that kind of superficial glittering habits, get back home, the only place he felt he really belonged.
Fame and money, now that he had them, had lost their glowing appeal to his eyes. He was sick of swimming in a sea of empty and insincere connections, tired of reading about his assumed life over the tabloids, episodes of it displayed as if he was not a person just like the others!
He needed to go back and share his life with honest people who would talk openly to him, and stop with all those fast glowing meteors who illuminated his life with artificial and temporary beams, quickly entering and quickly leaving it. He was bored and fed up. Nothing brought him much happiness anymore, and he needed to be saved from that before it was too late.

This was the main reason why he decided to leave golden Hollywood to go back home to London, to visit his mother, beloved sister and his lovely niece, Sara, who was perhaps the only one who could make his heart pound faster, genuinely whirled by great waves of love.

“Can I get your order, Sir?” the waitress’s bellowing voice brought him back to reality.

He raised his eyes up to cross the young girl’s light blue ones and smiled warmly.

“Yes, thank you!” he answered as he realized that probably Janet, as the golden nametag pinned on her chest read, had recognized him. “A soy Caffelatte, thanks!” She nodded with a full smile, while scribbling down his order over a small notepad.

His words caught Victoria’s attention, who looked at him surprised, unable to prevent a mischievous smile twitch the angles of her lips. She thought that if only Lennon was there, he would surely aim a satisfied grin at her. He adored soy milk, and used to feign offence every time she used to tell him that his was simply a snobbish habit he had taken only to distinguish himself from the rest of average people, who kept on drinking normal milk without making a big fuss of it!

Her amused eyes remained trapped in the stranger’s dark chocolate ones.

“I hope you are not making fun of me!” he exclaimed humorously, once again showing her the white perfection of his teeth through a warm and charming smile.

She suddenly felt uncomfortable and mentally reproached herself for her rudeness: she never learned her grannie’s lesson about not staring at strangers for long.

“I am really sorry, Sir!” She answered, shifting uncomfortably on her chair. “I was not smiling at you!” she added embarrassedly.

He noticed that her eyes kept on moving restlessly all over his face, in a sort of fluttering dance which could not prevent the beholder from detecting in them traces of a sparkling wit and a natural curiosity. They were bright and intense, and every time lashes lowered they became dark beaming fissures, giving to the pale regular shape of her face a sort of childish allure.

She placed her silver handy on the table, smiling lightly.

“You don’t have to apologize, honestly!” he went on “My friends usually tease me for that!” he added in the attempt to release a bit the girl’s evident embarrassment.

“For…?” she asked widening her eyes.

“My predilection for soy milk!” he followed the shape of his helmet with his fingertips.

“Ah! Sure!” she commented, remembering that this was partially the reason why of her smile.

“I usually mock my best friend for the same reason!” she informed him with a contained smile.

“He has all my condolences, then!” he dimpled, and she surprised herself to find that natural indentation in his cheeks adorable.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew him like I do!” she commented leaning over the table to place an elbow on its surface, her hand rubbing her arm gently, and then moving her gaze beyond him, to look at the pounding rain that was now falling down with intense strength. He followed her stare, turning his head to find out what had caught her attention.

“The perfect day to decide to drive a motorbike!” he uttered ironically

“And to get stuck in a traffic jam!” she continued his exclamation, shaking her head lightly.

“This accident was the last thing I needed today!” he added, evidently intentioned to go further with the conversation. He was feeling weirdly attracted by the girl sitting in front of him.

“Don’t tell me!” She snorted, waving a hand in the air, and then crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve missed an important meeting!” she rolled her eyes shrugging, getting lost once again in his stare. The pureness of his irises was kind of entrancing. They were just one pure color without the natural muscular striations, and they were captivating, inviting her to drown in their depth.

“I didn’t have anything important to attend, luckily!” he commented amiably, and suddenly discovered himself to cope with an unusual loss of words.

“There you are!” Janet the waitress whispered sweetly, placing the tray with their orders on the table. She threw a quick shy smile to him and served Victoria her coffee and croissant.

“Your coffee and your croissant, miss!" she glanced at her furtively "And your soy caffelatte, Mr. Bloom!” She announced with a smirk.

Did you have to mention the dimples?! :love:

*faints*

this story is amazing Ursi!

as are you others *laughs*

cannot wait for more!

Yay ure posting this i read up to here on ure livejournal but didnt reply cos i dont really know how livejournal works and then i didnt know how to get back to read it but i love it then i love it now keep posting this is going to be a great story i can tell. I love the begining twas pure greatness

5

Victoria raised an eyebrow in surprise. This was not a Cafè at the corner of the street, where patrons are called by their names by the waiters, and usually hang out with friends to exchange opinions about the news and the weather. They were in a Coffee-shop along one of the biggest highways surrounding London, one of the largest towns of the world. In such places as this people are only fleeting presences, different copies of the same item, western civilized modern human being. The stranger she was facing didn’t really look like a regular customer. He didn’t look like a truck driver who stopped by on his usual journeys. He didn’t seem to know Janet. She shot a sly glance at him, and then at Janet. She knew she was going soon to find out who Mr. Bloom was in reality. His name, though, reminded her of something buried in some dusty corner of her mind, distant and padded, something that, together with the familiarity of his features, pushed her to believe she had seen this man before.

“Thank you very much, Janet!” the man smiled warmly at fair-haired girl, leaning back in his chair. Janet’s face showed the signs of an internal battle. She joined her hands over her tummy, the faded silver tray defending her stomach as a worn out shield, in a sort of defensive position, then swallowed and started talking shyly.

“Would you mind…” she grinned spontaneously to mask the embarrassment clearly visible in her “… signing an autograph for me?” She trilled, then, uncertain, remained still, with her tray held over her belly, eyes fixed over him, as if a strange spell had been cast on her. He smiled back, once again, more artfully this time; gentle, but aloof, natural but constrained, carefree but numb, as if he was playing some annoying, known by heart role, never missing a line, but in a cold and empty way.

“Sure, Janet!” He consented, accompanying his words with a light nod of his head. Janet placed the tray under her left arm, and waved her pen and dog eared note pad towards him eagerly, a huge grin spreading across her freckled young face.

So, the man was someone famous, and Victoria seemed to be the only one ignoring it, given the sideways glances he was now receiving from any place in the room. She was coming to terms with something which could be partially linked to fame, the same thing she used to live when she was publicly with Daniel, but different in a subtler way, as this guy she was sitting at the same table with was an healthy glowing embarrassedly good-looking man in his late twenties, whereas Daniel was now in his late fifties attracting people definitely for his charisma, rather the for his charming looks. Even if they belonged to a not so distant past!

She had to admit to herself that a special aura seemed to shine around him, he too possessed a sort of charisma, which probably wasn’t all about his pleasant appearance. He could have easily been a rock star, or perhaps a movie star. Well, no… If he was a movie star she would probably know him. It was true she used to live in a sort of world of her own, lately, but earth was still her planet, whatever Lennon would say against it! He had been reproaching her so much lately about the way she was conducting her life, totally immersed in work and less open to the world.

“I am sorry,” he muttered in a way that seemed genuinely embarrassed as Janet swung her hips on her way back to the kitchen.

“I believe that if there’s really one who should be sorry for what has happened well that one must be Janet, and not you Mr. Bloom!” she called him by the surname Janet had just addressed him, although she had no idea of what kind of existence or human being this name hid. She did that only for the pure sake of it. To her , he could be the same Bloom of the renowned Joyce’s masterpiece, who had abandoned for just a short while the pages where his famous stream of consciousness had been officially and disgracefully for him left to posterity, only to meet her in that gray cold London morning.

Though the Mr. Bloom she was facing now had really nothing in common with the fat cuckolded wandering Irish Jew, who happened to be one of her favourite fictional characters of all times!

He flashed her a self confident smile, not noticing that she had called him by his name. She had probably recognized him as well, and he reckoned it was not a good sign. But, somehow, he liked the way she had said his surname, probably because of that snobbish stress she had used to do so. She was smiling back now, and this warmed his soul, surprisingly.

“You’re probably right,” he said resolutely. “Even if this has been happening for long time now, I still can’t avoid the embarrassment.” he admitted honestly, and then paused to sip a bit of his drink, waiting for her to say or ask something about what he had just said, but she simply stretched her lips in a polite smile, and then shifted her stare to the window behind his shoulders to get a glance of what was happening outside.

“I fear things are still at a standstill outside!” she softly groaned referring to the traffic. “I can’t believe this is really happening!” she let go in a sigh, imagining Daniel’s angry face.

“You sound desperate!” he commented amiably.

“I am, actually!” she confessed, running a hand through her hair. He widened his eyes at her to encourage her to go on. “You don’t want to know!” she added “But I can tell you this: never get into business with someone you know well enough to consider family!” she declared, pointing her cup of coffee in his direction. He chuckled.

“You must be desperate, indeed!” he repeated amusingly. “So was it a business meeting you had to attend?” She nodded dumbly, and then sighed.

“It was a very important one, too. But what has been done has been done,” she concluded. “My day hasn’t started in the best of ways, anyhow. I only hope it won’t get worse.” she shoved the last piece of croissant in her mouth looking at him oddly. Why was she telling those details about her life to a stranger? Was she mad or what?

“I do know those kinds of days, and, honestly, they usually get worse,” he chuckled affably, dimpling.

“You mean I am going to get trapped in this stinking place for the rest of my disgraced days?” she made a terrorized face while he let out a warmhearted laugh.

“You’ll be in good company, though!” he commented giving a quick glance at the different specimen of humankind crowding the cafè and nodding slightly in their direction.

“Encouraging thought!” she remarked, amused, getting lost for just a moment in the ease she was feeling around this stranger. There was a sort of gravitational pull around him which was hard to reject. Now that she was mirroring herself in those bright eyes she asked herself if she really wanted to.

“If we have to be stuck here, let me at least introduce myself!” He said suddenly, as something in her easy attitude convinced him she had no idea of whom he was. Adding a first name to Bloom probably wouldn’t have much consequence! Or maybe it did! But he wanted to give it a try, and on the plus side, he wanted to know her name. He grinned, waiting for an answer from her part, when their conversation was broken by the vibration of her handy, which started to shift across the surface of the table in small convulsions.

She picked it up quickly and caught the call.

“Victoria De Mulder!”

“Hello child! Where the hell are you?” Daniel’s deep voice, although affectionate, sounded like the trumpets of doom to her ears.

“Hi Daniel!” she answered in a hushed tone. “Did you talk to Lennon?”

“I did, Vicky, I did! But we’re finished here. What the hell happened?”

She stared seriously ahead, lingering her eyes deeply in the stranger’s ones as she slowly answered Daniel.

“I’ll tell you everything once I get there, Daniel!”

“It’d better be soon, child! I have an urgent matter to discuss with you and your other two partners in crime!” he threatened her, and at this she couldn’t avoid to jerk the corners of her mouth in a funny smile. Her two partners in crime in Daniel’s words were Lennon and Gwen, his two screen play co-writers; they usually liked to thumb up Victoria’s suggestions against his. To him, this was enough of an explanation to depict the three of them so.

“I am afraid it won’t be very soon, Daniel! Things aren’t moving here.” She gnawed her bottom lip.

“Vicky, Vicky!” Daniel sighed. “Well, try to do your best, girl! We might need to change things a bit with the background information about the male lead in the screenplay and we need your consulting urgently!”

“I can’t fly, Daniel!” she exclaimed bitterly.

“Shush, you cheeky girl! Hope to see you before the end of the day!” he then concluded hanging up, leaving her staring ahead with a hung face, keeping on biting her lip at a mad speed.

“Bad news?” Mr. Bloom’s voice woke her up from her mental wanderings about what else they needed about the male lead, after all she had been able to find in eight months!

“The bad news is that I have to stay here while I am needed elsewhere urgently!” she cringed. “But, I am sorry Mr. Bloom! That’s not your fault and I shouldn’t complain about it to you!”

“No problem, Victoria!” he smiled “By the way, my name is Orlando!” he reached out his hand over the table to hold hers. She did the same automatically, surprised by the fact he had caught her name while she answered the phone. His hold was strong and energetic, something she highly appreciated in men.

“Nice to meet you, Orlando!” she gushed and in the very moment she pronounced his name something clicked and a huge window opened in the back of her mind: Orlando Bloom! Sure his face was familiar! He swelled British national pride for a while a few years ago, and was now considered one of the most acclaimed movie stars in the international show business, a jet set animal. Her cheeks grew pink as she released her hand from his squeeze, wondering what on earth had brought him there.

Oh! When Lennon will hear this, he’ll jump on me to have every single detail about him!
She thought, grimacing drolly in an attempt at holding a grin.

“My pleasure, Victoria!” he crossed his arms over his chest, crossing his legs under the table, addressing a deep glance in her direction, while she started tapping her fingers nervously over the table.

Silence fell, once again, leaving the two of them time enough to swim in their own thoughts: Victoria mainly focused on how to find a way to arrive at Daniel’s office as fast as she could, Orlando totally grateful to this girl for being normal to him, for not treating him as if he was God himself strolling nonchalantly over the earth. Flying away from Hollywood meant this for him as well; avoiding mob and hysteria at each step he took, or at each thing he did. He craved being normal once again; an anonymous, average, ordinary lad with nothing interesting to say.

“You know, Victoria, this might sound a bit odd, but maybe I can be of help!” he heard himself suggesting despite his own will: words had left his mouth without asking the authorization of his brain. She widened her eyes at him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, I have a motorbike, and we can easily zigzag the long car queue to the next exit… where is it you have to go?”

“Chelsea, but…” she frowned “Are you offering to take me there?”

“I am!” he solemnly admitted, a hand over his chest.

“Oh well… I don’t know…” she remarked, frowning, interiorly tempted to say yes, against that small voice who had started to warn her that she didn’t know that man at all, and that even if he was whom he was this didn’t mean she had to accept his offer, and get herself into who knows what kind of trouble. “It is raining, and then…”

“It’s slowing down, now! You can leave your car parked here and come back later to pick it up!” he gushed sweetly cutting her off. It was true, she didn’t know him at all, but something in the way he curled his lips, something in the glowing of his eyes attracted her and make her believe it was right to say it was okay. Something she could not explain yelled at her that it felt like they had already shared bits of a life together. This was something she could not rationally explain, not at the moment!

“Okay then! I’ll accept your offer, Orlando!” She finally said yes, shyly meeting his eyes and grinning, childishly wrinkling her nose.

:love:

Looking at Orlando's 'i'm-sexy-fuck-me' picture in Empire is not working; not working at all!

*mumblemumble*

lol

Great chappie ursi y do i get the feeling this has something to do with her dream??

YEAH! A new story for me to get addicted too. If you keep writing like this, I will have no life outside of my computer. Oh wait *slaps head* I don't!

sure u do. Like watching lotr??

ACtually since I've been watching TTT almost nonstop since I snared a copy last May- don't ask don't tell- I'm almost burnt out on it. And I've watched POTC three times just since last Tuesday and laughing my arse off at the bloopers almost nightly so I've almost had my fill of that too- not to mention the six times I saw it in the theater. But I only have to survive ten more days.

Wow-- that just goes to prove that I really do have no life, doesn't it?

No u have a life that revolves round watching gorgeous actors. In really gd films which beats standing around on street corners and if u didn't watch lotr would u be here??

I've just had time to catch up on this story....I'm so glad you re-posting it here....Its a wonderful fic, I love your version of Orlando.

I'M DESPERATE!!!! WHERE IS MY ORLANDO ON A MOTORBIKE TO SAVE ME??? TAKE ME FOR A RIDE ON THE BACK OF THE BIKE??? **Slaps self*** Snap out of it you git!!!

Uh, sorry :eek: really, I think I'm going a little crazy. Living life in the land of orlando.... :surrender: Your killing me Ursi, this is all your doing!! You are the benefactor of my new OBsession!!!

:love: :x :love:

Kimi

6

That was the worst idea she had had in ages.

She immediately regretted accepting his offer. Moments after she had said it would be okay, she was mentally cursing herself for such recklessness. She had just accepted a lift to Chelsea from a completely unknown person, who could possibly turn out to be the most bloodthirsty serial killer that Great Britain had known after Jack The Ripper! Okay, she was overreacting and exaggerating, perhaps, but she wasn't used to being so open and friendly to people she didn't know. Actually, she was totally the opposite, distant and mysterious, with a light hint of reserve that was usually misinterpreted as shyness.

He twisted his lips in an amused grin when she started a soft, but stubborn, skirmish to refuse his offer to pay her order, her mass of emotions running over her face, colouring the pale of her complexion with a shade of pink gradually turning from soft to flaming scarlet. The more he insisted the more darkly her cheeks flushed, evidently contrasting with the firm tone of her voice.

"I insist!" she resolutely replied, grabbing her bill and setting her chocolate eyes in his in the most determined way. He let her have it her own way, even if he considered himself not the kind of guy who gives up easily, but the stubbornness he could see in the furrowing of her brows and the fact she evidently couldn't care less about who he really was in reality suggested him not too be too pushy. He had just met her, and was driving her to Chelsea. He could consider himself content with that.

The motorcycle ride turned to be dreadful for Victoria, and from the very moment he shifted into gear she officially regretted her decision. The man was completely mad, driving at high speeds nonchalantly, as if he were riding a bicycle on a country road. Soon after they left the troubled highway for the quickest road to central London, she couldn't help wrapping her arms around his waist, desperately clinging to him, fear of falling... or worse... controlled her brain totally, sucking up all her cool. She curled up against his back, her face literally plastered to the back of his shoulders, eyes squeezed shut, struggling with all her strength against the irrational dark fear of an upcoming disaster hanging over their heads and joining them in a sad destiny. Her heart in her throat, its beats thumping madly against her chest, she knew her mind was galloping over a field of impossible conjectures, but she was only scared. And mad at herself for having said yes.

When he slowed down and finally stopped at a stoplight she took the time to breathe deeply. He made her startle when he turned his head and started talking to her.

"What's the name of the street?" was the muffled question she barely heard.

She squeezed her eyes in embarrassment. She was still too much busy trying to slow down the mad beats of her heart that she could hardly understand a word.

"Where is it you have to be at?"

"14, Beaufort Gardens!" she said in a very low tone. His eyes narrowed and his helmeted face grew closer to hers, his fresh scent tickling her nostrils for only an instant. She repeated the name of the street, just in time to see him turn his head once again to stare ahead at the street and depart. He soon turned onto the first street on the left. When he finally pulled up his vehicle in front of the white Victorian building hosting Daniel's office, she silently thanked God because she was still alive and kicking. Her arms remained entwined around his waist for several long moments before she realized it was time to stand up on her feet and kiss this criminal goodbye. She slowly placed her feet on the ground and tried to stand up, but for an instant she feared her legs would fail her, and grabbed his arm to keep her balance. He took off his helmet, at first looking at her worriedly, then flashed her his stunning smile. She smiled back, but the paleness of her face revealed what kind of drag she had been through.

"Are you okay?" he asked, unable to hide a smirk. He suddenly understood why she looked so sick. She swallowed, released her grip and glared at him coldly. How dared he laugh at her?

"I am okay, thanks!" she informed him coldly, handing him his second helmet. "Despite your best efforts to make me die of a heart attack, I am still okay!" she added sourly, passing a hand through her hair, chin raised, met his eyes, as if she would defy him. He chuckled.

"Pardon?"

"Is that the way to drive a motorbike?" she couldn't help but reproach him while fastening her backpack. "You are not Valentino Rossi, correct me if I am wrong!"

He widened his eyes at her, trying to stifle his giggles. It was true he had perhaps been excessive, trying to show this proud woman his driving skills, but he knew perfectly how far he could push himself. He loved driving his motorcycle. It was something that could make him feel free once again from all the restraints that fame, despite it all, brought with it. His need to push the level of adrenaline in his blood to the highest level still dwelt somewhere deep inside of him. This was something Hollywood hadn't taken control over; the young adrenaline junkie was still living, gallantly, somewhere inside of him, and nothing in the world could suffocate him. Not yet.

He looked at her pallid features and felt sorry for a quick instant, because he had had the impression she wasn't feeling at ease. He had understood it from the way she had clung to him, but he had simply ignored it. Daredevil Orlando had done it again, and wasn't even ashamed for it.

"What?" she asked irritatingly, a rosy glow finally colouring her cheeks.

"I am sorry," he apologized. "It was rude for my part to laugh, and I didn't mean to. I mean I wasn't laughing at you! It's just..." He leaned back to his motorcycle, rubbing his eye and tossing a sideways glance at Victoria. "I know that I can appear reckless sometimes, but I have been driving it" he added, patting his hand over the black leather seat. "..For such a long time, now!" He smiled lightly, and for a while she had the impression of a proud and happy boy was appearing behind his glance. It was just a quick second, though, the time he took to feature a mischievous glint.

"That's okay." she waved her hand dismissively. "It might also be my fault. I am not used to motorcycles!" She shrugged, smiling timidly. He raised his eyes to quickly look at the building façade.

"So, you work here?" he asked out of the blue, rapidly capturing her stare with his. Their eyes stayed locked for a while, just the time to let her search her brain to find a reasonable answer. Not that the question was particularly complicated, but his prolonged and insistent stare had left her breathless. His dark cascading curls and chocolate brown eyes seemed to be irresistible, and almost stopped her heart. But it didn't last long. A few seconds later, she was recovering from her reaction, completely disappointed by herself. She wasn't a teenager anymore, and charming looks and deep stares didn't win her over so easily.

"Sort of." she answered seriously. She wouldn't stop and talk with him any longer about her real profession. Perhaps he didn't even care about it and was simply asking out of courtesy.

He stood up with all his height, straightening his shoulders and slipping his hands in his coat pockets. Victoria reckoned that his title of heartthrob was fully deserved, for he was really handsome and attractive. Was this maybe the reason why she was finding it damn hard to turn around and say goodbye?

"Well, Mr. Bloom!"

"Orlando." he remarked.

"Pardon?"

"I wish you could call me Orlando, Victoria." She nodded, throwing a weird glance at him, wondering if all that jet-setting across the globe could have made of such a good-looking bloke a complete wanker. It probably could, seen the way he was behaving with her.

"Okay, Orlando." she went on, the tone of her voice telling exactly what idea of him had just formed in her mind.

There we go again! he thought to himself. The perfect idiot I'm running away from is back here in his total shame, with his shitty "I'm king of the world" attitude!"

"Thank you very much!" she added, pursing her lips in a gentle but cold smile, hesitating as he smiled her back warm heartedly. She knew she had to leave, but some odd force pushed her to delay the moment of their separation. She simply wanted to turn around and forget about him, but she found out, to her own dismay, that it wasn't as easy as it usually was with perfect strangers. She nodded again, rubbing the palms of her hands the one against the other, nervously.

"It was nice meeting you, but..." she smiled again, uneasily, lifting her hand in the direction of the huge wooden carved building door. "I am really late, you know!"

"Oh, sure!" He nodded. "Your meeting." he added waving a hand in the air back and forth. "It was a real pleasure getting to know you!" he admitted honestly, leaving aside, for once, the role of the movie star, and simply being himself. She displayed a childish embarrassed grin.

"Good," she whispered. "Have a nice day!" she added as she started walking towards the entrance.

"You too, Victoria."

"And thanks again!" she said, disappearing behind the building main entrance.

Orlando on a motorcycle = :love:

Mmm...

7

“Ah, there you are! Thank goodness, Vicky!” Lennon huffed as she appeared in the huge, elegantly decorated room, which Daniel used to meet with his co-writers Lennon, Gwen, and her. “I was afraid you had been swallowed by scary London traffic!” he stood up and strode towards her. “Missy, you are pale,” he remarked, while bending on the side to kiss her cheek. “And completely wet,” he added, rolling his eyes in horror. “A complete disaster!” he jutted out his chin, folding his arms across his chest and inspecting Victoria’s aspect.

“Are you finished?” she asked bitterly, placing her backpack on the glowing mahogany table.

“Uh-oh! Someone is nervous!” Lennon commented sarcastically.

“Listen, Lennie! I have had a hellish morning. I was stuck in a traffic jam, I missed an important meeting, I spoke to Daniel on the phone and his tone told me I was in trouble…”

“Did it?” he asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yes! It did, if I know him a bit! And if that wasn’t enough, I accepted a motorbike ride from a guy who believed he was in a race. I am still feeling my stomach tied in knots and somersaulting because of it!” she kept on in her rattle and stopped only to take a deep breath. Lennon stood still, in front of her, gravely frowned.

“Oh girl!” He placed a hand over his chest. “You had what? Where’s your car? What happened?” he squealed, resting both his hands over his lean hips. A girlish grin spread across her face.

“I’ll tell you it all, Lennon, feel reassured. But not now, okay?” she told him with a mischievous glance, perfectly aware of the fact that her friend would have died to know what happened to her. Curiosity would eat at him, bit by bit, until he couldn’t take it anymore and begged her to tell him.

“Vicky?”

“Lennie?”

“You have a … secret?” he almost shouted, horrified.

“Later, my friend!” she snickered. “Later!”

“Bitch!”

“Who’s a bitch?” Gwen’s smoothing low toned voice was bearably audible, but sounded amused. Victoria turned and looked at her smiling.

“Me! Who else? That’s the high consideration Lennon has for his best friend. I knew I shouldn’t trust you, from the very first day we met!” She scrunched her face at her friend and then laughed lightly, soon joined by the other two.

“Naughty, naughty Lennon,” Gwen scolded her colleague as she leant her back against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Victoria, you must have been through a very trying experience!” she then kept on talking, in her particular way of speaking English. It was something that had struck Victoria from the first moment she had a chance to talk to her. Although she was from Minnesota, she didn’t have any particular accent. No one could tell where she came from by her English. She had soon found out that Gwen had started travelling around the world at a very young age.

Gwenhwyfar Diane Kingsley came from a very wealthy Minnesota family. Their parents had wished for her the very best, and when she expressed the wish to know more about the world simply let her do so. She attended a private and exclusive high school in Switzerland, majored in Literature at La Sorbonne in Paris and took a master in Communications and Cinema at the University of Los Angeles. In L.A. her skills were immediately noticed by a Hollywood big name, who hired her with her first contract as a screen play writer at the young age of 24. A year later she met Daniel at a party, attended his classes about Developing characters for the screen and decided to follow him to London, where he was getting started writing a new screenplay for his upcoming historic movie. Life had been good to Gwen, and she would always be grateful to God for that.

“You look so pale,” she commented, a bit of concern in her deep green eyes. “You are even paler than I! That must be a record.” Her lips smiled at her, in total contrast with her eyes, which were troubled. Something was bothering her, Victoria could bet on it.

“Our Missy, here, has been through a sort of new experience and refuses to tell us about it!” Lennon protested teasingly, waving his hand back and forth towards his long-time friend.

“Oh right, a new experience, Lennie.” She exchanged a cunning glance with the red haired girl. “But my mouth’s zipped now.”

“Yes, Lennie,” Gwen supported her friend. “Don’t worry, she’ll tell us!” She feigned a menacing glare at Victoria and then winked at her.

“Where’s Daniel?” Victoria let herself plop onto one of the comfortable chairs around the table. “Honestly, I’m afraid I am going to hear bad news. I had this sort of premonition from the short conversation we had before!” Gwen bit her bottom lip.

“Yeah.” She slipped a hand over the delicate net of braids in which she had gathered her extremely long burgundy hair that day. “I haven’t had the chance to talk to him, yet; he said we had to wait for you, but I smelled trouble!”

“Oh, good,” Victoria commented sarcastically, stretching her legs under the table. She wondered what it was she had to face, beside a sounding reproach for her delay. Orlando’s words about bad mornings worsening as the day grew old sounded in the back of her mind, and she surprised herself by remembering the intensity of his eyes. She soon dismissed the memory, filing it as rubbish, and turned to look at Lennon, who was opening his mouth to speak.

“I feel it is not good at all,” he remarked, straightening the folders of his whole wool black Italian cut jacket; he sit over the smooth surface of the table, right beside Victoria’s arm, which was resting there. “My sixth sense tells me what it is about!”

“Lennon, don’t start your mind reading,” Gwen said reprovingly. Victoria looked first at her, and then back at her friend questioningly.

“No mind reading, here. I know it has to do with the main character. I could bet on it. Haven’t you seen who they have cast for him?” he looked disgusted.

“What is wrong with my lead male character?” Victoria asked in a protective guise. She had sensed a sort of uneasiness when talking to Daniel, and now she could feel tension in that room; Gwen knew more than she wanted to admit.

“Daniel will surely be able to explain it all…” Gwen seemed embarrassed. “But you probably won’t be too happy with what he has to say!”

Me thinks, the lead character is being played by someone that has already tried to kill her once. It would definitely explain his curiousity at the building her dropped her off in front of. Or maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions myself.

Ahh Ursi, I still enjoy how you write this although I'm still impatiently waiting for you to catch up and continue lol... It's different from LCOTS and I have a feeling I might not really be as obsessed with this story as LCOTS until something comes up soon!

Plus you said Orlando was going to be different? :blink: *bad feeling again*

Oh, as opposed to the prick that he has turned into in LCOTS? So either he's going to be so annoyingly sweet that he will give us all cavities or a serial killer.

Speaking of cavities, I have two :cry: But it might just me and my ultrasensitive brain overworking :P

Ahh I'd love him to be a serial killer, he's got to stop being a goodytwoshoes <_<

wow what chappies and well im guessing the actor is orli

Ohhh.... I like this so far. It makes me really curious as to what happens!! And as for Orlando being a serial killer... That would be... Interesting? ^^; But really, I like this story. Hope you continue soon! Yup Yup!

8

“Am I wrong or our dear Victoria has finally decided to honor us with her presence?” Daniel’s deep voice echoed in the huge meeting room in his Devonshire accent.

Vicky turned her head abruptly, so did the others, silence kicking in solemnly. Even if Daniel tended to treat them all friendly, his authority was a huge wall that all younger people had to climb, whether he wanted it or not. His career spoke for himself, and it always elicited a deep, awe-inspiring sense of respect.

Victoria smiled at him, embarrassedly. “I am really sorry Daniel!” she conveyed serenely. “I’ll be able to go into details about my hateful morning, if you want me to!” then added, pulling strands of humid hair behind her ears.
He stretched his lips in a quiet smile, rummaging his pockets to look for his lighter.

“Your look says a lot about your morning experience, darling! It must have been really scary! You look terrible!” his remark caused the hilarity of the two young screenwriters, especially Lennon’s, who seemed unable to stifle his giggles.

“Oh!” she propped her elbow over the table surface and leaned her chin on the palm of her hand, fingers taping softly on her cheek, snorting lightly. “Please! Feel free to go on and mock me for the rest of the day! I don’t really mind!”

Daniel laughed faintly, two webs of subtle stretched wrinkles appearing at the angles of his eyes and giving to his face a sacred appearance. “I would do so, Vicky, honestly, but more urgent matters require our attention at the moment!” he then announced, turning serious all of a sudden, horizontal lines crossing his forehead.
Vicky recognized them; their appearance was always messenger of important matters. She sighed and leaned back over her chair.

“Do we have to worry?” she asked.

“Oh! I don’t think so!” he tossed a quick glance past her shoulders, at Gwen, who was now standing behind Vicky, arms crossed over her chest. “We met the cast. You weren’t among us, but we did.” She didn’t say a word, but only rolled her eyes, sighing deeply. “We knew who they were before we met them, actually, so it was no big surprise after all! But it deepened the conviction I have been developing of late…” he threw another fast look at the red haired girl, who stepped forward and sat on the chair beside Vicky.

“Which is…?” Victoria raised an eyebrow, swallowing hard. She knew something heavy would be falling on her head.

“Child!” Daniel began, words explicitly directed at her. “It was me who asked your consulting in this enterprise, and all the hard work you’ve been doing so far has been highly appreciated. You know that, don’t you?” he paused to light his pipe, narrowing his eyes to small fissures as he was deeply inhaling from it. Victoria frowned, clenching her teeth and keeping her stare fixed on the older man; he was complimenting her, and she knew that this was the first step to announce something unpleasant for her.

“Yes I know! I am pretty satisfied with what I have done so far!” she informed him bluntly, her sight caught for just a moment by Lennon's lean figure, who was now sitting right in front of her, across the table.

“Your detailed files about Sixteenth Century England are outstanding, and let us build the perfect background for the story!” Daniel went on, gray smoke slithering up from his pipe, as the unmistakable scent of English blend pipe tobacco spread slowly in the air, tickling Victoria’s nostrils, reminder of a confused distant past, recalling cold winter evenings spent in front of the fire, when a younger Daniel used to tell her of exotic locations and misterious stories, animating her blooming imagination with fascinating characters. The same characters who used to dwell in her dreams, and live there elaborated personal tales.

“You know you didn’t ask me expressly because of it!” she cut him off seriously, putting aside her pushing memories. “Or at least, not only for that!”

“You are right, dear! You’re right!” he sighed heavily. “Well, you know me extremely well, child! I won’t beat about the bush! I have come to the decision that we’ll be writing the male lead’s part anew, letting out all the interesting elements you provided us with! Interesting, but as you perfectly know, incomplete!” he tossed at her a very sorry look, noticing her sudden change of expression and getting ready to proceed with his next move. He knew what reaction she would have at what he had just said. He knew also how to contain it.

Victoria’s nostrils dilated as her mind translated Daniel’s words into consequences. He was dismissing the primary idea of finally revealing the truth about a famous historic figure, loved and hatred at the same time, the same one she had been studying for long years.
The same one she had become sort of obsessed.

“You can’t be serious, Daniel!” she blurted out coldly, crossing his eyes defyingly.

“I am sorry, Victoria, I am!”

“Why?” she spat, furrowing her brows and trying to remain poised.

“I have at least a couple of valid reasons, Vicky. Reasons you could not reject!”

“Then tell them to me!” She ordered. “I mean! Daniel! You know how much passion I put into this darn research! You know the hard work I have been doing… you know it all, Daniel!” she added, implying that he knew that this obsession had followed her since college times. “I am near to the solution of the riddle… I only need you to support me!”

“I am sorry, Victoria! I have responsibilities to accomplish! The production is requiring us to start filming as soon as possible. You yourself don’t know how much it will take to get serious evidences of your theories…” he lowered his stare, as hers was almost hurting in its severeness.

“I have produced enough documentation! I only need to find those letters and that diary…” she informed him, voice trembling, but not begging.

“We don’t even know if they really exist!”

“They do, Daniel!” she stood up, in all her height, accompanied by the disturbing noise of her chair moving across the floor.

“Victoria, you’ll Have time enough to get the whole documentation and write an amazing essay about Oliver Bryant, something which will definitely win the academic entourage you are working in! This is a movie we are talking about, honey! We don’t need to be hundred per cent truthful to reality!” she glared at him, trying to kick off that sense of humiliation she was proving.

“Yeah! Sure! You ask me first, and then dismiss me! A very kind thought from your part!” she felt a whirling mixture of feelings stirring inside of her: rage, delusion, hate, hurt. They were all welling inside of her, and she fought hard against herself to avoid bursting out there, in front of Lennon and Gwen. Daniel had a point in saying that writing a movie script didn’t have to deal with reality, but it was him who first required it. That was the main reason why he had asked her to join the project.

“So, this is set! Isn’t it?” Daniel nodded.

“Good!” she reached out her hand to pick up her backpack and coat. “I need to leave, now!” she added coldly, raising her chin and avoiding eye-contact with anyone in the room.

“Victoria, please. Don’t act childishly!” Daniel reproached her. “I ain’t finished yet!”

“But I am, Daniel! And I need to breathe some fresh air, now!” she announced, striding angrily towards the door. "The atmosphere in this room is almost suffocating!" she added furiously and then left three dumbfounded figures behind her.

Poor Vic... Ahh, got to say it sucks when most of your efforts go down the drain

Agree with peiyu here poor vicky. that really does suck

9

She descended the wooden staircase hastily, feeling a weird sense of nausea controlling her whole body. Daniel’s speech was rebounding in her mind over and over, words repeating with sinister echoes, hurting her deeply.

She couldn’t believe he was really doing that to her. Right him! She realized she was running away like a teenager who does not know how to face reality, but she actually preferred taking up some time to reflect on it on her own, rather than making a fuss there in front of Gwen and Lennon. She would ponder over it and then talk with Daniel once again in a more adult manner.
Because now, she was only desiring to yell at him he had betrayed her. To shout at him he had willingly ignored what was really at stake for her.

“Excuse me, Miss De Mulder?” the concierge called her, as she passed in front of him literally running. She stopped abruptly right in front of the enormous door, turned on her heels and smiled a circumstanced smile at the old man.

“Yes?”

“I have been appointed to deliver this to you, Miss!” he told her carefully, his hairy hand gripping a white envelope. She narrowed her eyes, as she came back to his desk, eyes fixed on the object he was now slipping over the glassy surface of his counter. She picked it up and inspected it with curiosity: her name was carefully written in an unknown firm handwriting.

“Do you know who left this for me, Harry?” she asked, unable to mask her surprise.

“Yes, I know him.” He answered, with a self satisfactory smile. She paused, expecting him to tell her who it was. He looked at her, raising his hirsute gray eyebrows, twitching the angle of his mouth, before speaking again.

“I mean, I know him, but not personally!” he added, interlacing his fingers over his chest. She looked at him puzzled: the only thing she didn’t feel like facing in that very moment was Harry’s renowned oddity. He usually cheered her up, with his weird behaviour, but now, she didn’t feel like joking, or coping with any of his unique riddles. She only needed to set some order in her mind, and let the pressure go away. Soon!

“Ah!” she commented, keeping on holding the envelope in her hands, but uncertain if opening it now or later. Harry let go his usual noisy laughter.

“I think you might not want to know before reading it!” he then concluded eyeing funnily what she was grasping. “You don’t surely want the surprise to be spoiled!”

She sighed, totally surrendering to the fact that probably that day of her life was only about facing weird, unexpected and sad events. Including the peculiar craziness of Harry the concierge. Her stare lowered over the black letters, carefully disposed to form her name, one after the other; if it was true that handwriting could mirror writers’ personality, the person who left her the note should certainly be a quick and exuberant one, given the unconventionality of the signs.

“Thanks, Harry!” she then chimed in, easily overwhelming her already weak curiosity. She slip the envelope in her backpack, with the intention of reading it once at home and kindly took farewell.

She stepped slowly out in the wet street: it had stopped raining, luckily, and the sky appeared like a uniform milky vault. She lifted her hands to her mouth to heat them up with her breathe; it was freezing, and she had left her car in that Resting Area parking lot.
Indeed, that was turning out to be one of the worst days of her life. She snorted, took out her cap, scarf and gloves from her backpack, wore them and headed for the nearest underground stop; she would go to her Faculty and try to find a solution to the mess she had the impression to have fallen into.

She started walking along Beaumont Gardens absent mindedly, turning soon at the corner of West Heath Road and reaching Finchley Road, eyes captured by the quivering car lights reflecting on the slippery asphalt. From there, she would use the Jubilee Line to get to Baker Street where she would get on the Metropolitan Line to get off at Euston Square and finally walk up quickly to Malet Street, where the austere building hosting her Faculty was situated.

She was mad at Daniel, she honestly was! She felt so grateful when he involved her in the writing of the movie script. And now he was simply thanking her, as her help wasn't required anymore! Only because the fucking production had to start filming.
They had to be thankful to her, for trying to spice up the role of an already dull actor! She knew that Daniel was imposed to cast Ashton Garko, a rising star in the glittering firmament of British movie industry, handsome but totally unexpressive! She was sure that the old saying speaking of dogs being better actors than humans was created only to fit Garko's flat acting.

But afterall, she knew it wasn’t about him. Her current rage had nothing to do with Garko. She was infuriated only because she was being putting aside, right when she had believed she was so near to the fulfillment of her dream.

She couldn’t believe her ears when Daniel told her he wanted to shoot a movie about Oliver Bryant.

“Your obsession, honey, has won me over! I find him a very intriguing figure! His life and your help will give me enough material to work out a great plot!” he announced her merrily almost ten months before. “And I want you to assist me.” He smiled at her benevolently. “You’ll be my matter expert!”

And he hadn’t exaggerated: she considered herself a true specialist when it came to Oliver Bryant’s life. She was still a teenager when she approached her first detailed book on History of The Theatre, a paperback edition she had bought with her own money at a bargain in Notting Hill flee market. She had literally devoured it, and her young mind had been easily conquered by the magic of Elizabethan theatre. The author sketched an intriguing portrayal of the most famous actors of those times. Oliver Bryant was among them. She had learnt the short biography at heart. She couldn’t say what had stroke her the most, whether what he had done while still in life, or the way his existence had come to an end! She only knew that it was like falling under a spell.

She tried to collect information on her own, but her means were limited. The real acquaintance with his dark figure was only postponed, though, to her university years, where she focused mainly on History of the Elizabethan Theatre, just to give complete shape to a man who was only remembered as one of the Elizabethan stage actors, contemporary of both Marlowe and Shakespeare, so much bounded to the first as much hated by the latter.

She couldn’t give up so easily. She repeated to herself while boarding the crowded train of the Jubilee Line she would find a way to convince Daniel to give her more time. A warm wave of air invested her as she stepped in the wagon, faceless persons massing up, the one against the others.

"Yes!" she told to herself. "I'll stand for what I want! I only need to find out how."