What have I done?
Okay, stupid question. I know exactly what I did. I hid my feelings from Viggo for so long that they exploded last night in front of our friends and I attacked him. I was out for blood when he hadn't done a damned thing wrong, and I belittled him and our relationship.
I told him that he's using me as a mid-life crisis indulgence, that what I feel doesn't matter to him, that he acts like I don't exist. I told him he didn't love me. And then I did the unthinkable – I told him I didn't love him.
I deserve to be chucked off a bridge. I deserve to be tied down and eaten alive by cannibals. I deserve to be shot full of orc arrows. The big arrows, like the ones that knocked off Boromir. Yeah, I should be strapped into a canoe and shoved over the Falls of Rauros
He didn't go back to his house last night. I went there and stayed in his bed – our bed – waiting all night for him to come home. I haven't gotten any sleep, and I'm more miserable than I think I ever have been. What kind of tosser fucks up the best thing in their life like that? We're only a few weeks away from leaving New Zealand and if he wants to, he never has to spend any time with me again. Hell, I wouldn't blame him if that was what he wanted. I'm such a stupid fucking idiot, and all I can do is pray that Viggo is willing to forgive me.
We're redoing the cave troll scene today, which is an unbearable bit of irony, seeing as the first time we filmed it was the day that Viggo and I got together. Cupid must really hate me. I don't know if I'll even be able to hit my marks, seeing my head is miles away from Moria.
I get a dirty look from Lij as I pass by him, and my face gets hot. Shit, everyone is still angry with me. Not that they don't have a reason to be, but my life is hell right now. I wonder if Pete would be angry if I hopped the next plane to England. After all, they can do the rest of my scenes digitally, can't they? I stand in front of the Cuntebago, my heart in my throat. The last memory I have of Viggo was his eyes staring in pained disbelief before throwing that glass against the wall.
When I walk into the trailer, Bean is sitting nursing a cup of coffee while a makeup girl is fussing over his complexion. Viggo is staring straight ahead at the mirror, waiting to be attended to; he doesn't even look up as I enter and sit next to him.
"Good morning," I say. Yeah, a really good bloody morning.
The makeup girl returns the greeting, but Viggo and Sean stay silent. Shifting nervously in my chair I look at Viggo and cringe. He looks like shit (not that I look any better), and it's obvious that he didn't sleep last night either. His eyes are still blue pools of anguish, and I honestly want to crawl into his arms and cry. But I don't have that right.
"Do you want me to get you some coffee?" I ask nervously. "Or tea? Did you eat breakfast? I was going to get myself a muffin after this, and I could pick you up one as well." Still no response. "You need to eat before going into battle, you know."
"Stop it, Orlando," Viggo says softly. Orlando. Not Orli. In the mirrors, I can see Bean's reflection glaring at mine. Unwilling to think about this any longer, I grab my blue contacts and begin the transformation from Orlando Bloom, pathetic jerk to Legolas Greenleaf, stoic elf prince.
*****
Scenes where I'm only required to speak once can be wonderful things. Especially since every time I open my mouth I just want to scream "I'm sorry!" at the top of my lungs. I don't think that would go over very well with Pete. Finally we break for lunch, and I step off of the scaffold that's doubling for the cave troll, every limb in my body aching.
The lunch tent is buzzing, and I sit down at an empty table with a plate of pasta salad, not wanting to deal with anyone's bitching. Of course, Dom immediately sits down next to me, followed by Billy and Sean, and I know I don't stand a chance against three hobbits.
"If you're here to give me a lecture, just save it," I say harshly. "I know what I did already. I remember having this talk with all of you last night."
"We're not here to lecture you," Dom tells me. "We're here to keep you company. You're still our friend, no matter how much of an idiot you may be."
"Dommie's right," Billy says around a mouthful of pretzels. "We do care about you, Orli."
"Lij is pissed," I comment.
"He is," Sean agrees. "You know how much he adores Viggo, and
how wonderful he thinks it is that you're together. I think he just
wants everything to be alright. We all do."
"You guys belong together," Billy explains. "It's like
Sonny and Cher."
"Sonny and Cher ended up divorced," Dom points out. "But I think Orli understands what we're trying to say."
"Have you guys spoken to Viggo at all?" I ask. "He won't talk to me."
"I haven't heard him say a word all day," Sean admits.
"He called me last night," Dom ventures. "To apologize for breaking the mug."
"Where was he?"
"He spent the night on the couch of Bean's hotel suite."
"Did he say anything else."
"No." Dom pauses. "He might just need time. I mean I can't speak for him, but I think he'll forgive you."
I look over at another table to see Viggo sitting with Bean, John, Ian, and Pete. He senses my gaze (he always can) and looks up. I give him a weak smile, but he just shakes his head and looks away.
"I wouldn't count on that, Dom," I say softly.
*****
By the time the day's filming is over, my back feels like it's been twisted into a million knots, and the rest of me isn't much better. Not to mention that whenever I look at Viggo my chest gets tight. This can't be happening. Please, please don't let Viggo just end everything. Although he won't be the one really ending things; I did a fine job of that last night. I can't even remember all of what I said last night, but I know it wasn't pretty.
I'm in the trailer, changing back into normal clothes, when Viggo comes in. It's just the two of us, and my heart stops, unsure of whether or not I should say anything. Suddenly I realize I've been standing with my leggings half-off for about two or three minutes and I snap back to reality. He's not looking at me as he quickly gets ready to leave. When he turns around, he walks over to me and hands me a small cup of water and a pill.
"For your back," he explains. "I know that scaffold must have done a number on it."
Nodding, I swallow the pill, a sliver of hope surfacing in my mind. "Thank you." Viggo just shrugs. "Where are you going now?"
"To my house."
"Can I come?"
"I don't think that's a good idea, Orlando." The sliver of hope quickly vanishes. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Viggo walks out of the trailer and I finish changing. I run after him, following him to the car park. "Viggo!" I shout, not really caring who hears. "Please, just listen to me!"
He turns around, keys in his hand. "What do you want?" he asks tiredly. "I just need to go home and sleep."
"Please let me come with you," I beg. "Please don't shut me out."
The sound of his harsh laughter makes me wince. "*Me* shut *you* out? Orlando, you did the shutting out last night. Don't put this on me, okay?" He's still not calling me Orli.
"Viggo, don't go."
"Go back to your house and get some sleep. You look terrible."
"That's my line," I say weakly.
But he just ignores me and gets into his car. I stand there alone for a minute before Ian comes up to me and puts a hand on my back. "Come on, Orlando. Let's get some dinner. I won't have you moping all by yourself tonight."
"Thanks. Is anyone else coming?"
"Just us."
"Good." Ian's the true father figure of the cast, especially to me and Lij who don't have our own fathers around. He's become an invaluable source of comfort to me. "You know, Viggo gave me a painkiller after we finished filming. He worries about me even though I hurt him. I don't deserve that."
Ian wraps his arm around my shoulder. "Just because you made a mistake doesn't make you a bad person. Every couple goes through hard times, and I'm convinced that you two will get through this. He still loves you; that's why he gave you the painkiller. But you hurt him, and you can't expect him to blindly forgive you."
"I'm not expecting that. I don't know what I'm expecting. I just want him to take me back." Ian smiles sympathetically but says nothing.
*****
The next day is the same thing. Viggo ignores me, I spend the entire time miserable, and I go home alone. Bean is nicer to me, but Lij is still giving me the silent treatment. The third day is even worse. Atti calls, and when I explain the situation he gives me a severe tongue-lashing, saying "Christ, OB, how stupid can you be?" I blow almost every take and Pete looks about ready to sack my pathetic arse. Good. Then I'd never have to deal with seeing Viggo ever again. Every time I look at him I can see the pain. No matter what he's doing, it's there. And the knowledge that I caused that pain is a gut-wrenching feeling.
Finally, I take matters into my own hands; after all, I'm nothing if not a man of action. It's almost ten at night when my shaking hands stick the spare key in the lock of Viggo's front door. It's day four now, and I'm beginning to think that I might be dead, as this feels like my concept of Hell. The house is warm and smells like spicy food, and I can see the light on in the room he's turned into a makeshift art studio. Not knowing what else to do, I venture down the hallway.
He's standing in khakis and a short-sleeved shirt, his back towards me. The canvas he's painting on has a bottom layer of bright, almost fluorescent colors, covered by splashes of maroon, brown, and black. It's unfocused and unnerving.
"What do you want?" he asks without bothering to turn around.
"I came to apologize."
"Well, then apologize." His voice is flat as he adds more brown to the canvas.
"I'm sorry," I say softly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of what I said that night, I just lost control. I know that I should have told you that the issue was bothering me, but I didn't know how to. I know that you love me, Vig, and I love you. More than anything in this whole world, and I'd do whatever it takes for you to forgive me, because I *can't* lose you. I just can't." It isn't until I stop talking that I realize I'm crying.
"Have you said your peace?"
"Yes."
"Okay then." Viggo goes back to painting, still not willing to face me.
"Viggo, please talk to me. Please don't just ignore me." I walk over to him and look at the canvas. "What are you painting?"
"Us. I'm painting us."
"What do you mean?"
"The bright colors are what we used to be – vibrant and alive.
The other colors are what you turned us into the other night – ugly and
destructive."
"Look at me," I say. "Look at me!" This time it's a scream.
He turns, his entire face showing the pain now, instead of only his eyes. "What do you want from me, Orlando?"
"I want everything to be okay again." My voice is small, almost like a child's.
"I don't know if that's possible."
"Yes. It is possible, I swear. I'll never attack you like that, I promise."
"The fight is only half of the issue here. You hid your feelings from me, Orlando. You didn't tell me that you were upset about something that was so big it started to consume you. If that means that you don't trust me enough to share what you feel, then this can't work." He sets down the paint and walks out of the studio. I follow him down the hallway and into the kitchen, where he's washing his hands.
"I trust you, Viggo. I've told you things that no one else knows."
"This issue first came up nine months ago, and in that entire span of time, you never *once* bothered to tell me how you felt about it," he says flatly. "The next time something like this arises, are you going to take the same path? Just let it stew until it comes out in the most vitriolic form possible?"
"No. I swear I won't do that."
"Fine, let's say that's the case and the trust issue is over and done with. There's still the small matter of a diatribe that took place in front of our friends."
I close my eyes and swallow hard. "I don't know what to say about that. I fucked up, okay? I was an idiot, and I wish I could take everything I said back."
"Wish all you want, the words were still said. You apparently don't love me and don't think I love you."
"I never thought that, not for one second," I insist. "That was a stupid heat-of-the-moment thing and nothing more."
"What about saying I only use you for sex? Or that I don't care about what you feel? Do you have any *idea* how much words like that hurt? Do you have any fucking concept of what they made me feel?"
"I'm sorry," I sob, sliding to the floor. "Okay? I'm sorry!"
"And you think I'm ashamed of you? I could never be ashamed of you. The reason I don't want to come out isn't because I'm ashamed, it's because I'm fucking terrified! I'm scared to death, okay? Maybe it's easy for you to just blithely say to the world exactly who you are, but I'm not that brave. You can say it's selfish or cowardly, but that's just the way it is for me right now." He pauses, tears starting to well in his eyes. "But I could never be ashamed of you. Not even now."
"Please don't cry," I plead as I look at the hand on his face trying to hold back the flow of tears. "I'm so sorry. I love you so much, Viggo, and I'm so sorry. My world begins and ends with you, and I'm so sorry I did this." My own crying intensifies, and I don't know if I've ever shed so many tears in my life.
"You hurt me so badly." His voice is barely above a whisper.
"I know. And I never want to hurt you again." He sits down in front of me on the floor and he's still so beautiful that it's difficult for me to breathe. "Just tell me what I need to do for you to take me back, and I'll do it."
"Promise me that you'll never say you don't love me anymore. And promise me that you know how much I love you."
"I promise. I know how much you love me, Viggo. You show me every day how much you care," I say, my heart playing hopscotch in my chest. "And I love you more than anything in this entire world. I love you so much that it hurts to be apart from you for any length of time. Please believe me when I say that if you forgive me, I'll never make you cry again."
"I never want you to cry either," he tells me, choking back a sob. "I love you, Orli."
Orli. He called me Orli. I wrap my arms around him tight, praying he'll return the embrace. "Viggo . . . please." I don't even know what I'm asking for, but when his arms slide around my body, I feel a dam burst, and the tears start anew. "Love you," I sob.
We sit there in an embrace for a long time, but I finally pull away and look at him again. Without speaking, I lean forward and kiss his cheeks and eyelids, wanting desperately to get rid of the streaks of wetness on his face. "It's okay," he assures me.
"I'm sorry," I say again.
"Ssh," he whispers. "Stop apologizing. It's over, Orli." At the terrified look in my eyes, he chuckles a bit. "No, the fight is what's over. We're okay again."
"I didn't know how scared you were, Viggo. I thought you just were embarrassed about our relationship, that you were afraid people would laugh at you because you're with some dumb kid."
"Never. And you're not a dumb kid, Orli. But I'm scared about what coming out will do to you and to Henry. I'm not even really scared about what will happen to me, but I can't stand the thought of you two suffering because of this. You have my promise that I'm going to conquer that fear, but I'm just not there yet."
"Viggo, I understand," I say. And I do. Relationships are about compromise, and I can't push him into this before he's comfortable with it, or it *will* be the end. "And I'll be by your side while you work through this."
"Thank you. I don't want you to ever feel like you're a dirty secret, Orli. My family knows about you, our friends know, but I need some time before I see our names splashed on tabloid newspapers." I nod, knowing that just coming out is half the battle. The shit that follows won't be any easier. "But what we have is so much stronger than the problems we'll face from this, and I know we'll get through it."
"I know." I kiss him, not frantically or impatiently, but with gentleness and love. When we break away, his thumb strokes my bottom lip.
"And never think that you can't tell me what you're feeling. Even if you're afraid of how I'll react, you can always tell me anything that's upsetting you."
"Okay."
Viggo smiles, and I fall in love all over again. "Come on, elf boy. Let's get some sleep."
I laugh for the first time in days, and it feels so good. "Bloody human scum."
He helps me to my feet, and we silently walk to the bedroom, words no longer necessary. My spare clothes are still in his drawers, and I look at him with surprise. "You were expecting me to get rid of your stuff, huh?" he asks with a grin. "I wanted to, but I couldn't. I'm not sure I could ever let you go, Orli."
"You're way too good for me, Vig."
"Oh, be quiet and come to bed." He strips to his boxers (thank God for the warmth of New Zealand's December) and slides under the sheets. I quickly change, and join him in the comforting cocoon of the bed.
"I missed you," I say softly as I settle into his outstretched arms.
"I'm here," he tells me, kissing my forehead. "Good night, love."
"Good night, Vig."
Looking at Viggo drifting to sleep, I smile and kiss his neck,
amazed at how incredibly lucky I am. We'll make love tomorrow, but
right now all I need is to have him beside me.
