TITLE: Heart and Shoulder (5/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Standing in the eye of a media hurricane (Viggo's POV)
FEEDBACK: To paraphrase Aragorn and Eowyn: "What do you fear, my lady?"
"No feedback. To stay behind a laptop, until use and old age accept
no feedback. And all chance of feedback has gone beyond recall or
desire."
WARNINGS: Angst
DISCLAIMER: I made this all up in my crazy little head. It's
FICTION!
ARCHIVE: I'd be honored, just let me know where it's going
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This chapter takes place a week after Part 4.
A permanent thank you to my darling Lostiawen for her support, beta skills,
and insanity
DATE WRITTEN: February 27th, 2003
"For the last time, tell them that we're not interested! We don't
want to do any interviews right now, okay? And that's final."
Orli doesn't know that I'm overhearing this conversation.
Just a few minutes ago, I slipped into the house after taking Henry
to a friend's party to find my boyfriend on his cell phone discussing what
his new publicist calls "media options". His new publicist is a very
nice and savvy woman named Meredith who has been around the block more
times than anyone in her business, and she's a unmeasurable improvement
on Robin. She started working with Orli the day after Robin was fired,
and thank God that she did, since Orli has never needed a publicist more
than he's needed one right now.
"Thank you for understanding, Meredith," Orli sighs. "I know
how difficult I must sound, but this is so overwhelming, and I just don't
think that an interview on the telly would help anything . . . Alright
. . . Okay, I'll speak to you soon . . . Bye." He puts down his phone
on a table and slumps against the wall, rubbing his temples.
My poor Orli. Feeling a bit guilty for listening in on his phone
call, I creep forward into the living room. "Hi there," I say softly.
He whirls around in alarm, losing his balance and stumbling to the
ground in the process. "Viggo?! When did you come in?
You scared the bollocks off of me!"
"I hope I didn't do that," I chuckle, helping him up off of the floor.
"I like you with all of your pieces intact."
A wide grin spreads across his impossibly handsome face, and I have
to smile in return. "I'm intact," he assures me.
"Good. Now, what was all that about with Meredith? Something
about a TV interview?" I ask, sinking down into the big corduroy chair.
Orli immediately plops down on my lap, and my smile widens.
"You heard that?"
"I, uh, lingered in the front hall," I confess.
"It's not like Meredith's pestering me. It's more that every
single channel on the telly – both American and British – is trying to
get either me or both of us for an interview. So Meredith has to
deal with all of the offers, and every time an offer comes up, she contacts
me. I finally told her that we have a blanket policy about that shit.
It's out of the question as far as I'm concerned."
"You'll get no argument to the contrary from me."
"Besides," he sighs, "I'd think that everybody who watches the telly
must be so tired of hearing about us."
"Some of them probably are. But there are always those who can't
get enough of certain stories."
"Stories? Since when did our life become a story for the public's
enjoyment?" he asks bitterly.
"Oh, Orli . . . I didn't mean it like that."
"I know you didn't, Vig." He nestles his head between my neck
and shoulder. "I'm upset with a lot of people right now – actually,
beyond upset – but you're definitely not one of them." There's a
brief pause. "A-are you angry with me?"
"Why on earth would I be angry with you?"
"Because I pressured you into coming out. And now we've become
the center of a media circus. I can't imagine that's what you wanted
your life to be like."
"Orli, that's–"
"You were right all along about the public making a huge deal over
our relationship. I should have known what would have happened.
I should have listened to you. Our breakup never would have happened,
and nobody would be bothering us now."
"Orlando Bloom, stop babbling," I order.
"But why did I do this? I shouldn't have made you come out, and
I shouldn't have come out–"
"Is that what you think?" I ask, feeling deeply hurt. "That it
wasn't worth it?"
"No, not really . . ."
"It's only been one week since we came out, Orli. The media attention
is incredibly intense right now, but it will fade once the next big story
hits the front page. Please don't tell me that you're changing your
mind about this."
"I'm not!" He raises his head and looks at me with fire in his
eyes. "Believe me, I'm not. There are just moments where it's
so scary and overwhelming, and it's hard for me to deal with it.
I know it will get better with time, but right now it's just so difficult."
"I know it is, love."
"And I get irrational and start babbling when I get stressed," he mutters.
"You know that."
"It's usually one of your most endearing qualities," I tell him fondly.
"But it doesn't mean that I really regret what we did last week.
Because it was one of the most important things I ever did. And I
*do* know that in the end, it's worth whatever shit we have to go through
now."
"That's how you really feel?"
"Yes," Orli says firmly. "No matter how brassed off I may get
at the bloody media, or how stressed this all makes me, I swear to you
that I know we made the right decision by coming out."
"Good. Just try to remember that all of this stuff that's going
on around us is bullshit, and keep sight of what's truly important."
A soft smile crosses his face, lightening my heart. "I think
that I can do that. I'm pretty good about keeping my priorities straight."
"Yeah, that's the only thing about you that's straight," I tease.
"Cheeky," he laughs. The tension has drained from his body and
voice.
"Are you feeling better?" I ask softly.
He nods. "Actually, I am. See, old man? You always
know what to say to cheer me up."
"That's because I never like to see you upset."
His hand gently brushes over my cheek. "You're the most amazing
man, do you know that?"
"Oh, I don't know . . . you're pretty incredible yourself. If
only you'd believe that you're as strong and as special as people keep
telling you that you are."
"I guess I have to work on that," he chuckles.
"Then I'll just bombard you by repeating constantly how incredible
you are. How does that sound?"
"There could be worse fates," Orli deadpans. I laugh, pulling
him even closer to me. "I love you, Vig," he says softly.
"I love you, too. More than ever, elf boy."
*****
It's not really as if Orli is overreacting. Let me detail what's
happened since we came out:
The morning after the Golden Globes, Robin called us up and yelled
at both of us, leading Orli to *finally* fire her. That same morning,
we found ourselves on the front page of the Los Angeles Times, and we were
a huge story on CNN. By the end of the day, every network was talking
about the impact that our Outing would have on show business, not to mention
the Oscar race, gay rights, politics, and the solar system as we know it.
Overkill? Definitely. But it was just the tip of the proverbial
iceberg.
The *next* morning, I was nominated for an Oscar (since the awards
schedules are really bunched together this year), and everything got even
more publicized. Orli immediately hooked up with a new publicist,
who was fielding interview offers from every magazine and network in existence.
They all wanted to know about our life, our love, and how on earth we had
kept our relationship in the closet for four years. We got offers
from Larry King and Oprah Winfrey to be on their respective programs, and
Barbara Walters virtually begged us to come on her pre-Oscar interview
special. Our answer to every single one was a categorical no.
Then, on Friday, the new issue of People magazine showed up on newsstands
– with Orli and myself plastered all over the cover. The picture
they selected for the cover was one of us smiling lovingly on the red carpet,
with an inset photograph of The Kiss, as it's been dubbed; that would be
the post-Golden Globe win smooch that I planted on Orli which has stirred
up so much controversy. Many people felt that to see an open display
of two men in love with each other on national television was offensive,
but that hasn't stopped TV networks from replaying The Kiss about ten million
times.
But the news coverage goes way beyond a simple kiss. Virtually
our entire lives have been laid out to be picked bare by the media.
We *are* fortunate in one respect: in the week since coming out, there
haven't been any lies told about us. Nobody has been saying, for
instance, that we came out because our careers were in trouble or that
we're into kinky sex (although God help us if they find out about the Aragorn-Legolas
roleplaying).
Still, it's not easy to watch as your life is dissected by media vultures.
Everything from my marriage to Exene, to Orli's fake relationship with
Kate (who's publicly stated her support for us), to my onscreen love scenes
have been hyped up to add to the shock value of our "gayness". What
hurts the most is to watch them drag Henry into it, because I know that
there are people out there who think that gays can't be good parents.
I just wish that whole issue could be left alone.
And they replay over and over again the kiss that Orli gave me at Cannes.
Of course, they have no way of knowing the bad memories that kiss stirs
up, but I wish they would put that video clip away. One idiot 'journalist'
said it was "a clue that Mortensen and Bloom were more than just friends."
Yeah, no shit. When we accidentally saw that while channel surfing
, Orli turned off the TV and stormed out of the room, then spent the entire
day angry at himself for something that was ancient history.
See how fun this has been?
*****
Something's wrong here.
As I come awake, I try to put my finger on what exactly isn't right.
The bed is cozy and warm, I can hear Maude snoring and Pokey purring with
a contented slumber, but as I roll to my side, I find that this picture
of domestic bliss is woefully incomplete. There's an Orli missing.
With a frown, I sit up and blearily look over at the clock. What
on earth is Orli doing out of bed at 4:18 a.m.? I briefly fight with
the blanket before successfully getting out of bed and padding down the
hall. There's a light coming from the living room, that bluish glow
that comes from when you have the TV on at night without any lights on
in the room.
When I reach the living room, I find Orli curled up into a tiny ball
on the couch with a blanket draped over his lap, the remote control in
hand and the volume on the TV very low. "Hey there," I say softly.
"Why are you awake?" he asks, looking at me with surprise as I sit
down next to him on the couch.
"I might ask the same question of you."
Even in the low light, I can see him blush. "I couldn't sleep,"
he admits.
"Why not?"
He shrugs. "I just felt . . . tense. On edge, you know?
So I left the bed instead of waking you with my tossing and turning."
"And now you're watching TV in the middle of the night?"
"Yeah. Isn't my life glamorous?"
"Oh, my sweet, sweet Love Pig," I sigh, running my fingers through
his curls. "It's just been a stressful week."
"No kidding," he says miserably. "And now I'm going to head off
to Morocco to work with Ridley, leaving you all alone to fend off these
media bastards all by yourself."
"I think that I can manage." It's the truth. "What are
you watching?"
"Some news station. I'm not sure which one it is."
"It says FOX News right there in the corner," I chuckle.
"Hey, it's four in the morning. I don't have to be very alert."
"Fair enough," I murmur. We sit in silence for a few minutes,
watching the commercials pass by. "Why are we still here? Let's
go back to bed."
"In a minute. I'm comfortable."
"Yeah, but if we fall asleep on the couch, your back will be hell in
a few hours," I remind him.
"Okay, okay," he grumbles. "Just give me a few seconds, Vig.
This couch is so . . . oh, fuck."
"What? What's wrong?"
"They're at it again. On the telly."
I look at the television and sigh in dismay as I see our faces flash
across the screen, although this time we're in Aragorn and Legolas garb,
accompanied by Ian in his Gandalf robes. "Damn, they even do this
in the middle of the night?"
"Well, it's seven a.m. on the East Coast," Orli reasons, suddenly sounding
much more exhausted than he did before.
"Come on, love. Let's turn this garbage off and go to bed," I
urge gently.
"No. I want to watch this."
"Why? It'll just get you upset."
"I'm watching it, and that's final." He turns the volume up and
I resign myself to watching yet another pointless piece of media spin about
our lives.
"Lord of the Rings has the dubious distinction of being the first major
studio release to have *three* openly homosexual actors in it," a man tells
the news anchor. "Mr. McKellen has been open about his sexuality
for years–"
"That's *Sir* McKellen to you, arsehole," Orli snaps at the telly.
I roll my eyes and pet his hair reassuringly.
"–and now you have two other stars of the trilogy coming out of the
closet just recently."
"You're referring to Viggo Mortensen and Orlando Bloom, I'm assuming?"
the vapid-looking anchorman says.
"Yes. They're not only homosexual, but in a homosexual relationship
together," the man explains. "And many people are looking at the
fact that these two men are openly gay as some big advancement in the social
progress of entertainment."
"But you see it differently?"
"Well, I'm troubled by the fact that Mr. Mortensen and Mr. Bloom costar
with Mr. McKellen in three of the most popular movies of all time, movies
that many impressionable children have seen. My three children have
seen the films, and enjoyed them greatly. But I wouldn't have taken
my children to see the trilogy if I had known that there was a real homosexual
presence in the cast that could easily have a negative effect on fans of
the films."
"This is total bullshit!" Orli explodes. "Now they're attacking
the movies?"
"Let's turn this off," I plead again.
"No, I need to see what this arsehole is saying."
"My eleven-year-old son is a big fan of the character Legolas, who
is played by Mr. Bloom," the asshole on TV continues. "He has a Legolas
poster and action figure. He's also a fan of Mr. Bloom personally,
and insisted last summer that we go to see his film Pirates of the Caribbean.
For Halloween, he dressed up as a pirate. I was extremely upset that
an actor who my son practically idolizes revealed himself to be a homosexual.
Are these really the role models we want for our children?"
"Some people would say that you're overreacting," the anchor rebuts.
"Damn right," Orli says.
"No, I'm not," the man counters vehemently. "I don't want my
son looking up to a faggot."
I yank the remote control from Orli's death grip and turn the television
off, plunging the room into near-darkness. "We're *not* watching
any more of this crap."
"D-did he just call me a faggot?" Orli's voice sounds very quiet.
"Is that word even allowed on the telly?"
"It's a live feed," I sigh. "He can say whatever he wants for
shock value."
"I can't believe how much some people hate us."
"Oh, baby . . ."
"I mean, I knew that not everyone would approve, and some nasty words
would be said, but this is just pure hatred." There's a hitch in Orli's
voice, and even in the darkness I can see the tears that are threatening
to spill from his eyes.
"Orli, that man is an idiot. He's an asshole. Don't let
his prejudice and stupidity outweigh any of the beauty of what we have."
"But he's not the only one who feels like that!" he cries with frustrated
anger. "Look at all the people who have voiced their disapproval
of our relationship over the last ten days! They despise us!"
"And they will not change a thing about how much I love you.
They won't change how much our friends support us. They won't change
how much our parents are thrilled that we're together, or how much Henry
adores having you in his life."
"I know that," Orli sniffles, tears now freely running down his face.
"And I'm not backing down at all. I'm not changing my mind about
being Out. But I feel like I just can't take this anymore, Vig.
It's too much."
I pull him tightly against me. "You're stronger than you think,"
I murmur. "But don't worry. You're going off to Morocco, and
you can leave all of this crap behind you."
"Yeah, but I'll leaving you behind, too. And knowing that makes
me even more tense right now."
"You know that I'm going to come visit you right in the middle of the
shoot. And Sam is going to visit you, too. Not to mention that
you're flying back for the Oscars."
He nods, wiping away a stray tear. "I know. But I never
like being separated from you, or from Henry, or even from Pokey and Maude.
Especially now, when I feel like I need all of your love and affection
more than ever. And I know that it's not easy for you when we're
apart, and that the timing is awkward for you also; I'm not the only one
who's having a difficult time with the mudslinging that our Outing has
brought on."
"I'm managing to deal with it, for the most part. It's mostly
what I expected," I tell him. "The gay rights movement is thrilled
to have two high-profile actors who they can put in their corner, and people
opposed to gay rights are making us sound like the biggest sinners in the
world."
"Why do they make it a moral issue?" he asks. I know who 'they'
are. "What makes them think they can judge us? I'm not trying
to judge them or influence them; can't they just leave us alone?"
"Well, maybe the next big story will come along quickly and they'll
forget all about us," I say hopefully, although I don't quite believe my
own words.
"No. I think this is forever. There will always be pricks
who think they have the right to judge us."
My mouth sets in a firm line. "So that just means we have to
stay strong."
"Yeah. We can do that," he says, snuggling a little closer to
me.
"Orli . . . I love you so much."
His lips press softly against my neck, warming me to my toes.
"I love you even more, Vig."
"Want to get some more sleep?"
He looks at me and smiles brilliantly. "Yeah. Take me back
to bed, old man."
Heart
and Shoulder Part 6
More
Viggorli
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to Random Insanity
