TITLE: Heartbreak Even 2/?
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
PAIRING: Orlando Bloom/Brad Pitt
RATING: NC-17 overall, PG-13 for this chapter
SUMMARY: The resident poof
FEEDBACK: I love feedback like Priam loved Troy! Like Achilles
loved glory! Like Paris loved being pretty! You get the
point.
WARNINGS: (for the series) Angst, coarse language, adultery, implied
het; (for this chapter) slight bastardization of Eric that doesn't last
DISCLAIMER: This never, ever happened and I don't claim that it
did. I make no profit from this or any other story. I don't
own the song that I named the series for. It's really that simple.
ARCHIVE: Wherever you want! I'd be honored, just as long as you
let me know ahead of time.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is self-beta'ed. Please forgive any mistakes
that may pop up. The title comes from a fabulous Ani DiFranco song
Paris, Prince of Troy, was not an especially likable character at this
moment. Orlando felt that maybe he could identify with that.
Paris had just shattered all hopes of a Grecian-Trojan alliance by
spiriting away the wife of Menelaus on a boat for his own personal
indulgences. Perhaps she was Paris' one true love, but he should
have known better. Orlando had been caught between telling a
truth that some found distasteful or opting for a simple lie that
seemed to hurt nobody. So he told the lie, even to some of his
new friends, and ended up feeling like a prick when he drunkenly
revealed the truth.
And now, standing on a boat with Eric, several dozen extras, and
Wolfgang, Orlando realizes that he, just like Paris, really should have
known better. If he trusted his other friends enough to reveal
that he was gay, why couldn't he trust Eric or Brad? They had
spent so much time together in Malta since their arrival, and so many
other secrets had been shared. They were both learned hands in
this business; they wouldn't have spilled anything to the rumor
mill. Not to mention the simple fact that they were decent men.
"Okay, attention everybody!" Wolfgang hollered in his Teutonic
warble. Orlando snapped out of contemplation for the
moment. "This is an absolutely *critical* scene." There was
a stifled snicker from Eric; every scene was *critical* according to
Wolfgang. "Orlando, you need to show longing for Helen, and your
fear and reverence of Hector. Eric, you need to show dread of the
inevitable war, and anger at Paris. Got it?"
"Yes, mein herr," Eric mock-saluted.
"Sarcasm will get you nowhere, my boy," Wolfgang chuckled.
Orlando eyed Eric with apprehension, realizing that he had the fearful
part of his character down pat. Eric had barely said a word to
him today outside of banal chitchat. Usually, he teased Orlando
mercilessly and engaged him in lively conversations about everything
conceivable. Yet their only topic of discussion this morning had
been the weather.
As the cameras began to roll and the two actors flawlessly launched
into dialogue, the emotions that played on their face weren't
affected. The disappointment Hector showed in his younger brother
reflected Eric's feelings about being lied to. The jitters mixed
with hopefulness that flitted across Paris' face came from Orlando's
nervousness about his friendship with Eric, and the possibility that
the misunderstanding could be worked out.
When Wolfgang called a wrap to the scene, he was ecstatic.
"Brilliant!" he cried, with his usual hyperbolic gusto. "Wrapped
with one take! When's the last time that happened?"
"Not with Orlando's love scene," Eric muttered. It was a jab that
didn't go unnoticed by Orlando, and he looked away before somebody saw
him blink away the tears that were pricking at his eyes.
So perhaps things with Eric wouldn't be repaired easily. That
still left Brad. If the gods were smiling on Orlando, he would
get a more friendly reception from his other costar.
*****
Knock.
Silence.
Knock, knock.
Silence, silence.
Knock, knock, knock.
Silence. Silence. Silence.
Knock, knock, knock, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
"Jesus, I'm coming!" Brad yelled. He jerked open his door to find
a sheepish Orlando standing there, staring at his feet. "You're
the most impatient person I've ever met, Bloom."
"Can I come in?" Orlando mumbled.
"Of course you can." Brad stepped aside to give his friend entry,
then let the door swing shut. "Want a drink? Water?
Beer? Juice? You know this place has it all," he said,
gesturing to the stocked bar that his suite was provided with.
"Have any cyanide?" Orlando asked, immediately wincing at the bad humor
of his joke.
Brad sat on the edge of his bed. "What's the matter?"
There was a halting laugh, much of the same kind that Orlando had let
out the previous evening. "You mean you don't remember what
happened last night? I'm now the resident poof."
"Poof?"
"You know, a poof . . . what you Americans would call a queer.
You could call me a fag, but that's a cigarette to us."
"It doesn't bother me that you're gay, Orli," Brad said. "I may
have been a bit shocked last night, but that's only because you had
told me you had a girlfriend."
"I'm sorry about that," Orlando sighed.
"You don't need to explain. This is a business, and image is
everything. Believe me, you're not the first gay actor or actress
I've worked with who's had to hide it."
"Really?"
Brad laughed. "C'mon, man. I can't name any names, but
you're far from the only one. I have a number of friends and
colleagues who are either gay or bi, so what you told me last night
didn't change my opinion of you at all. I still think that you're
a great actor who's one of the genuinely nicest people I've ever met."
"Wow. Thanks, Brad." Orlando blushed with the compliments
as his heart soared at the knowledge that he had at least retained one
of his two friends.
"You're welcome. Look, anytime you're having problems, you know
that you can talk to me, right?"
Orlando nodded. "Yeah."
"Good. Because you're much more than the resident 'poof', or
whatever it is you crazy Brits call it. You're our terrific
Trojan Prince, and if I weren't married and obsessed with tits, I'd be
all over you in a second," he teased.
"Brad!" Orlando exclaimed, dissolving into a giggle fit.
"What can I say? You're almost as pretty as my wife."
"You're bloody insane, mate."
"I'll admit that," Brad chuckled.
"Listen, uh, as long as I'm here . . . can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Did Eric talk to you at all today?"
"No, why?"
Orlando sighed heavily. "He was avoiding me today, and I was
wondering if maybe he said anything to you about what happened last
night."
"I think he's hurt about the fact that you lied about Kate," Brad said
in a gentle voice. "Again, it was a perfectly understandable lie,
but Eric is beginning to see you as a brother. He probably feels
betrayed, and it stings more because the betrayal is by somebody very
close."
"We worked on 'Black Hawk Down' a few years ago, but we didn't keep in
touch between then and now," Orlando recalled. "But we
reconnected so easily on this film, and he seemed so thrilled that I
had found this girlfriend. I think he wanted Kate and Rebecca to
be friends, too."
"Just talk to him, Orlando," Brad suggested. "Don't let him avoid
you. Eric's not a dick; he'll get over it. If he doesn't,
I'll just kill him a few scenes ahead of schedule and send him back to
Australia."
Orlando couldn't help but laugh. "No thanks, you crazy wanker."
"Feel better?"
"Much."
"Good. Listen, since those 'man chats' turned out to be
disastrous, maybe we should plan something else for our evenings.
Maybe watching movies are safer."
"That sounds good to me," Orlando said eagerly.
"I'll bust out some DVDs tonight in my room. Why don't you call
Sean with an invitation, and I'll call Eric?"
"Yeah, okay." Orlando realized that he was actually looking
forward to seeing Eric. Brad was right; Eric wasn't a dick.
This was *his* fault, and he knew it would get better.
"Does nine sound good?"
"Perfect. See you then." Orlando blew a theatrical kiss in
Brad's direction and skipped out the door, hearing Brad's laughter echo
in his head all the way to his suite.
Heartbreak Even Part 3
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