"like sands through the hourglass so are the...Days of our Lives"

Christyne's

"The Teens" Fan Fiction Site

Chapter 7 - If you’re gone

"So, you’re Merlin."  Seated practically under Craig’s desk, Philip inspected the squirming furball, blindly sniffing the expanse of his human hand.  "You’re telling me your dog pushed out five of these?  Motherhood’s rough."

"That’s why it takes a woman," asserted a grinning Chloe.

"Merlin.  What a name.  Merl," began Philip, as he raised his hand holding the spotted lump, so that the pup faced him eye to eyelid, "When the Dobermans beat you up everyday after school, you’ll know who to blame, won’t you?"  The puppy yawned in the affirmative.

"Don’t scare my puppy," she admonished.  She gently lifted Merlin by the scruff and settled him on her chest, as she laid her head on Philip’s lap.  As the pup made himself comfortable against one warm rising and falling breast, Philip nearly groaned.  Next life, he had to come back as a dog.

Philip watched Chloe run an adoring finger along the puppy’s back, while it snored in euphoria.  Definitely, a dog’s life was for him, Philip thought.  Unconsciously, he twirled the ends of her hair and admired her long lashes.  His headache was now a dull soreness.  Philip finally had Chloe to himself.  Now was as good a time as it was going to get.

"So, um, how did you meet Brady anyways?" asked Philip, as nonchalantly as he could.

"Hmmm?" Chloe smiled, as her puppy sleepily rubbed his cool nose against her finger.

"Chloe, how’d you meet Brady?" repeated Philip with some impatience.

"Brady?  Oh, Belle’s brother," remembered Chloe, distracted by the cute bundle sleeping on her chest.  "I met him on the pier the other night."

"What?" he exclaimed, the hand stroking her hair pausing abruptly, "You went to the pier alone?  At night?"

Merlin wagged his little stubby tail in dream.  "Yeah.  Oh, Philip, I’ve practically been on my own ever since I can remember.  I can take care of myself," she calmly said, as she watched the baby tail in enchanted fascination.

"It’s dangerous down there, Chloe.  Especially at night.  You should’ve called me.  I would’ve walked with you."  His eyebrows drew together in frustration, when her attention was still devoted to the puppy.  He gently took her chin, until their eyes met.  "I’m serious, Chloe."

She saw his intense expression and sighed.  "Look, Philip, I know you want to protect me, but it was fine.  Besides, I went to the pier to be alone."  Now, she deliberately looked down at Merlin.  When Philip waited without questions, she sighed again.  "Being around people all the time tired me out, so I went to watch the water and sing."

"You sang?"

Chloe looked up to see his slight grin.  She felt the corners of her own mouth rise.

"Yeah, I was thinking…" about you… "…and I started singing."

His hand began to stroke her hair once more.  "What were you singing about?"

"Madame Butterfly."

"That Japanese girl that falls for a messed-up American military guy."

"Yeah."  She looked up at him in mild surprise.

"It’s only one of your favorite operas and you only have that huge poster hanging beside your bed."

"How did you—"

"I was hanging on a tree branch outside your window, remember?"

She smiled in memory of a bold Romeo armed with dimples trying to sweet-talk his way into her room.  "What else did you see before you—"

"—fell off the tree?" grinned Philip.  "Nothing much.  A big mirror.  Some pretty bottles of perfume."  He bent down to sniff at her neck, making her giggle.  "Whatever it is.  It works."  He kissed her skin, before sitting up.

"So, you were singing…"

"I was singing, and then I met Belle’s brother."

"Brady."

"Yeah, I didn’t know he was there, until I heard him clapping.  Then, we kind of talked about… Madame Butterfly and Pinkerton, actually.  He knew opera.  But he was sad about something," remembered Chloe now.  She also remembered what Brady had said.  Uncomfortable, she sat up, transferring the puppy to her lap.  "Then, I went home.  I didn’t know he was Belle’s brother until the next day at Salem Place."  After pushing her glasses up, she resumed petting the sleeping puppy.

Philip scratched his head.  That seemed innocent enough.  Chloe met brooding Brady, who surprisingly listens to opera along with his acid rock.  But he remembered the way Brady had looked at his girlfriend.  Chloe was innocent, but Brady definitely was not.  Philip would have to keep an eye on him.

"How do you know him, Philip?  I’ve never seen him with you before," asked Chloe curiously, interrupting his thoughts.

"Long story," he answered, considering his bizarre family tree.  "Basically, we hang out, play basketball and football and stuff, but we didn’t hang out much, when he went to college, but now he’s drop out."

"He dropped out?"

"Yeah.  No one knows why.  He just sits in his room sometimes with his music and shuts everyone out.  Yeah, no one seems to get him, except for maybe Belle."

Chloe’s eyebrows drew together, as she listened.

"He was pretty cool, when we were kids, but now he’s just weird," said Philip, giving Merlin a soft scratch on the forehead.

"Weird, huh?"  Chloe fixed her gaze on Merlin’s baby soft fur.  "Sounds a lot like me."

Philip blinked in confusion, while warning bells went off in his head.

*****

With their conversation still fresh in his mind, Philip paced the length of his room, tossing his football from hand to hand.  He’d given Chloe an almost desperate kiss before the walk up the hill to the Kiriakis mansion.  Preoccupied, he mumbled a greeting to Henderson and Will, who were playing pirates in the den, before Philip ran two steps at a time up to his room.  The glistening hardwood floors, intricate Persian rugs, and priceless pieces of art lining the chandeliered passageways made little impression on the Kiriakis heir apparent.

From birth, the spoons were polished silver and the glasses melodious crystal.  At the slightest sniff, a servant appeared and vanished like smoke to press his clothes or fetch a forgotten toy.  He’d never thought twice or even once about it.  Only with the start of school did Philip realize the wealth and power of his family name.  With adolescence, when peer acceptance made or broke a high school career, Philip milked his last name for all it was worth.  All of life was a game and the higher the stakes – whether they be money, girls, or manhood – the better.  The schoolteachers and administrators carefully avoided unpleasant family conferences, particularly since his mother would hear nothing but praise about her youngest and most beloved child.

Relief came, when his father recovered from his stroke and informed his son and school officials that nothing but the best would be expected from a Kiriakis.  His father’s position had come from blood, sweat, and cunning.  Thus, success through hard work was regarded with highest respect and acquisition via lazy shortcuts with disdain.  Thereafter, to his mother’s dismay, Philip scrubbed pool mildew, weeded acres of flowerbeds, washed and polished the silver, and kept the stables side by side with the servants.  In time, his babied hands toughened, and he learned to appreciate Henderson and other servants, who performed an intimidating list of duties, but somehow found time to play with the lonely Kiriakis children.

At school, however, Philip still reigned as crown prince.  Boys emulated his cocky stride.  Girls went out of their way to conveniently cross his path.  But somehow, for all his popularity, he was lonely.  His teammates fought to stand as close as they could to Philip in the yearbook picture, while contorted cheerleaders formed his name on the field.  But after the practices, games, and drunken parties, few made the effort to get to know him beyond the Kiriakis.  So, when he was alone and merely Philip, he was friendless and unhappy.

Until a magical night on the pier, where he met Chloe beyond the Ghoul Girl.  A once guarded weirdo, who snapped like a croc, if someone stepped too close, wept, because she’d exposed her musical gift, thus herself to the world.  He discovered that he was not the only one trapped behind an image.  Though, in her case, the image sucked.  But he’d recognized the loneliness.  Thank God for that bet, thought Philip.  It may have been the most idiotic thing he’d ever done, but it was also the best thing that ever happened to him.  Because it had brought him to Chloe.  And with her, he found himself – a Philip without pretenses, not just the Kiriakis golden child.

He wasn’t alone anymore.  For the first time, he shared with someone about his yet unmarried parents and the agony of his father’s recovery.  He wanted to tell her everything and her to tell him everything.  For the first time, the happiness of another person was his first priority.  So spellbound was he that he gave up all sense of pride and serenaded her one starry night to win her heart.  It still embarrassed the hell out of him.  But it worked and Chloe was his.

At least, he thought she was.  Frustrated, he flung the ball at the wall, barely missing the mirror.  After the Last Blast, boys scrambled to get Chloe’s attention.  To Philip’s relief, she barely batted a lash at these would-be Don Juans.  But tonight, it was Brady, Brady, Brady.  How was Brady related to Victor Kiriakis?  What university did Brady go to?  What happened to Brady’s mom?

Admittedly, he had started the topic.  But by the end, Philip had outlined Brady’s entire biography.  And was seething with jealousy.

"You’re really hung up on this guy, aren’t you?" he’d asked bitterly.  He was alone with his girlfriend, who occupied almost every other conscious and unconscious moment of his thoughts, and she wanted to go on and on about some other guy.

Bewildered, Chloe replied, "He just intrigues me."

He didn’t know if her answer worried him or pissed him off.  They sat only inches from each other, but at that moment it could have been leagues.  That frightening foreshadowing tingle in the back of neck compounded with his headache.  He’d wanted her reassurances so badly.  So what, if Brady knew opera?  So what, if the boy grew up without his real mom?  So what, if the dude wore dark clothes and was "intriguing"?  He wanted her to say that Brady meant nothing to her.

What was he saying?  Without thinking, Philip beaned himself with a pillow, sending fresh throbs of pains into his abused skull.  Holding his aching head, he pitied himself.  What did you do when you fell for a girl you knew was going to break your heart?  His buddies were right.  He was whipped.  He laid back on his Chippendale bed and closed his tired eyes.

He wished Chloe had told him that Philip Kiriakis was the only guy for her.  He wished she had told him that she loved him.

*****

The next day Jason swung a companionable arm on Philip’s shoulders.  "What’s this, K-Man, third head trauma this year?"

Philip grumbled, as his fingers gingerly touched his forehead.  He hadn’t slept well.  Then, when Henderson got a good look at him, the usually placid servant had practically wrestled him down to home-treat the bump.  The stark white bandage stood out against Philip’s fading summer tan.  Chloe’s withdrawal only made the constant dull ache worse.  She hadn’t met him at her locker, again.

He slammed his locker shut with a violent clang.

"Whoa, Phil, what’s up with you?" asked Jason.

Philip mumbled an incoherent response and walked away toward Calculus.

"Hey, Philly boy," whined an unwelcome hissy voice.

Philip doggedly fixed his gaze in front of him and walked by Jan without even an acknowledging blink.  He definitely didn’t need her crap today.

Nevertheless, she teetered along behind him.  "My, we’re in pissy mood this morning.  Could it be because of a little rumor about Vampira?"

Philip clenched his jaws and kept right on walking.

Like a starved vulture, Jan swooped closer.  "I hear your sweet little Ghoul Girl is dumping you and sinking her fangs into some college boy."

The ache in his head now matched the one in his heart.  He swung open the fire-resistant door and hoped it caught Jan in the face.

*****

"What’s up with you, Phil?" asked Shawn later in the lunch line.  "You look like you wanna murder somebody."

Philip only shook his head, as his shoulders slumped.

When no standard Kiriakis retort came, Shawn placed a warm hand on his buddy’s shoulder.  "Seriously, man, what’s wrong?"

Philip gave a jerky shrug.

Shawn’s eyebrows rose.  "It’s that bad."

His dejected friend grunted weakly.

Shawn gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder.  "It’s probably not as bad as you think."

Philip finally sighed and shook his head.  The soggy, limp fries gave no comfort.  He turned to face his concerned friend.

Shawn looked him straight in the eye.  "You should go talk to her."

"Hey, you’re Chloe, right?" asked a preppy boy with outrageously straight teeth.

Chloe looked up from her salad and soup.  "Yes."

The newcomer flashed a smile meant to charm, but it wavered, when he looked over her shoulder.

"Beat it," said Philip with almost a snarl.

The boy comically bobbed his head up and down before stumbling away.

"That was rude," commented Chloe, as she returned to her lunch.

Philip fought to calmly place his tray on the table.  "Oh?  Maybe you want me to call him back for you, since you’re so into him."

Chloe’s eyes snapped up.  "What—What’s gotten into you?"

To fight the twin aches in his head and heart, he chose anger.  "Oh, nothing.  I just love it, when my girl flirts with other guys in front of me."

Shocked beyond coherency, her face paled, then flushed with outrage.  "Flirt?"

"Yeah, too bad I came by and messed it up for you, right?"  His fists clenched and his voice rose.  By now, Shawn, Belle, and Mimi had arrived, mouths open like guppies in shock.  Onlookers eavesdropped shamelessly.

Chloe looked into his furious eyes but turned away too soon to see the hurt behind them.

"How could you?" she whispered, her big blue eyes filling before she pushed him away and ran out of the cafeteria.

The table was dead silent.  Belle and Mimi were nearly in tears themselves, while Shawn raised his palms in question.  "What the hell happened?"

The anger had drained out of him, but the pain remained.  Philip covered his face and shook his head.  Oh, God.  What had he done?

*****

The line rang and rang.

"Damn it!" Philip slammed the phone down.  Chloe had disappeared from school after lunch, so she must have gone home.  But no one was picking up.  "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"  He berated himself for the millionth time.  First the bet.  Now this.  What a piece of shit he was.  Dr. Wesley was right to warn him off of Chloe.

He’d gotten so paranoid with this week’s events – those phone calls, not meeting him at her locker, and Brady, definitely Brady – that he’d lost his senses.  God, he practically accused her of cheating on him, in front of everyone.  He ran his hands through his already tussled hair.  He’d fucked up big time.  Just because in his mind, Chloe was acting strangely, when her uniqueness from other girls was the very thing that he loved about her.  This dating thing – hell, this relationships with other people thing – was all new to her.  He’d been her first kiss, boyfriend, everything, and he’d gotten jumpy, because she wasn’t acting like previous clingy girlfriends.

He snuck out of school and scoured Salem.  He checked her house, the park, Salem Place, Dot.com, and the Brady Pub.  Luckily, neither Dr. or Mrs. Wesley were home to answer the door, but no amount of pebble throwing brought his Chloe to the window or door.  His most optimistic guess was that she wasn’t home.  So, where else could she be?  He ran another frantic hand through his hair, trying to think rationally.

Then, it struck him.  Almost giddy with certainty, he ran for the pier.

Chloe stared miserably into the murky water.  The tears were already spent and now she was physically and emotionally weakened.  Her instincts and Belle’s brother had been right all along.  She couldn’t trust anyone, because sooner or later she’d end up hurt.

Philip proved it today, when he’d looked at her and called her a slut, in front of everyone.

This is what she got for shedding the black, baggy clothes and allowing people to get too close.  No matter how hard she tried, no matter how wonderful everything seemed, painful reality was not too far away.

Funny, wasn’t it, that she’d run to the pier, when Philip last broke her heart with the exposed bet?  He’d also met her here after she’d sang at Shawn’s birthday party and treated her like a human being for the first time.  Of course, he called her that very night to ask her not to tell anyone about their meeting.  He was ashamed to be associated with her.  Chloe gave a bitter laugh and shook her head.  Every time she let her guard down, Philip betrayed her.  When will she ever learn?

Footsteps from behind brought her out of her thoughts.  She took a breath and prepared to chase off the intruder.  She turned, her eyes trailing from sneakers to blues jeans to red jacket and met sorrowful blue eyes.

"Chloe…" began Philip.