"I'm not depressed."
For what feels like the hundredth time in this conversation, Dom sighs and shakes his head. "Orli, you are *completely* depressed. It's dinnertime and you're already in your pajamas. Did you even get dressed today?"
"I'm not depressed," I say again.
"Well regardless, get dressed. I'm taking you out."
Great. This is just what I need. Another person telling me to just snap out of it and rejoin the regular world. It's easy for them, isn't it? They're not the ones who had their heart stomped on. I'm still angry, but more than anything I'm sad that it had to be like this, and sad that I don't have Viggo anymore.
Realizing that there's no arguing with a determined hobbit, I throw on some clothes and mutely follow him out of my flat. We end up at a small, expensive restaurant. "I hope you're paying," I tell him.
"Yeah, it's my treat. After this we're going clubbing."
"I really don't feel like doing all that, Dom."
"Orli, it's been three months since you and Viggo broke up." I flinch at his name. "You've barely done *anything*, and I'm worried about you. What happened to the bouncy, Devil-may-care friend that I adore so much? You've turned into a pale imitation of who you used to be."
Luckily our waiter chooses that moment to come and take our orders, and by the time he's gone, Dom has fallen silent again. I pick at my napkin for a few minutes, wanting to be anywhere but here. When I look up, Dom is staring at me intently.
"What?" I ask defensively.
"Seriously, what's going on, Orli? I've experienced bad break-ups myself, but the two of you are just taking this so hard, and everyone's worried."
"Viggo's having a hard time, too?" Stupid question. Everybody's already told me that he's depressed about this.
"Yeah. Henry told Lij that Viggo doesn't really leave the house and is just painting and writing all day."
"He called me a while ago."
"Viggo?"
I shake my head. "No, Henry. He was begging me to call his dad, and I just felt so bad for the kid. He told me to get my head out of my arse."
"That's sound advice."
"Hey, it's not my fault--"
"Oh, stop it already!" Dom exclaims, obviously exasperated. "The two of you are mired in self-pity and it's unbearable. Look, both of you contributed to this break-up, and both of you have to work at getting back together."
"Why would I want to get back together with him?"
"For starters, you love him and he loves you. I know you miss him."
"I don't miss him."
"Fine, be in denial. It's your life."
"That's right, it's *my* life."
Dom sighs again. "In less than a week, we're all going to be in New Zealand again and you're going to see him." I look down at my lap and torture my napkin some more. "You're going to do scenes with him, you're going to share a trailer with him, and you're going to be around him when we all spend time together. What are you going to do when you see him?"
"I don't know." My voice is barely a whisper.
"Are you going to ignore him and shut yourself off? Are you going to be nasty and yell at him? Or are you going to take one look at him and realize that trying to make things work will be worth the effort?"
"I can't be with him, Sblomie. He won't do what I need him to, and I've given him all the time in the world and all the love I possess, but it's just not enough. Do you think that's fair to me?"
"Orli, I know how tough that is for you, but he loves you and he doesn't want you to be unhappy."
"Yeah, right," I laugh bitterly.
"Look, I'm not going to take anyone's side. In fact, all of us are refusing to take sides because you *both* behaved like little kids instead of being mature about dealing with these issues."
"Part of me really hates him. There are still times when I look at that stupid bloody relationship journal and just want to throw it away."
"But you don't," Dom says gently. "Because part of you still loves him. Just try to remember that next week when you see him."
"Can we please talk about something else?" I ask weakly. "I really just want to forget about everything tonight."
"Okay. I didn't mean to upset you."
"I know." I give him a reassuring smile. "Let's just drop this, alright?"
"Yeah. So can I ask you what the deal is with your shirt?"
*****
I'm actually glad we're at a club. I forgot how exhilarating it can be to lose yourself in a mass of strobe lights and moving bodies. Viggo would never want to be in a place like this; he'd never understand the feeling of just surrendering yourself to the beat of pulsing music. Of course there was that one time we went to a club with the hobbits and I ended up fucking him in the . . .
Shit, don't think about that. Must not think about that. I'm here with Dom, not Viggo, and I don't want to be *anywhere* with Viggo. Why the fuck does Pete need all of us for reshoots anyway? And why do all of my scenes have to be with Viggo? Couldn't Legolas spend a little quality time with Gandalf or Boromir instead? Maybe a nice heart-to-heart with Pippin?
Dom's right -- it's crazy that after three months I still can't get my shit together and move on. But it's not because I want to get back together with Viggo, it's because the dickhead decided to make my life miserable and I was so in love with him that it cut me deeper than anything ever has. I hate him so much sometimes, but I *do* still love him. However, I'd be crazy to go back to him and make myself vulnerable again. I may be young, but I'm not stupid.
At this point, I've been dancing for a little more than half an hour and my legs are achy, so I manage to leave the dance floor and locate Dom, who's (surprise, surprise) at the bar. He's not alone -- there's a really beautiful young woman with black and pink hair standing next to him. The amusing thing is that she's two or three inches taller than him and the pervy hobbit is looking down at her cleavage as much as he is looking up at her face.
"Am I interrupting?" I ask as I join them.
"Not at all. Orli, this is Alexis," Dom says as the girl smiles at me. "She's spending the summer in London with a few friends."
"You're not from around here?" I query.
"Nah. I'm from the States," she tells me with a smile, her American accent sounding odd in a club full of Brits. "I go to college, and three of my friends and I are working in London this summer."
"Cool." I don't really care that much, but I manage to smile anyway. It's not her fault I'm in a pissy mood.
"Hey, I was wondering where the fuck you were," says another girl as she comes out of the crowd and grabs Alexis' arm. "What, find a couple of new friends?"
"Yeah, what's it to you?" Alexis laughs. "This is Dom, and this is Orli."
"Nice to meet you," the girl says, although she barely acknowledges Dom and focuses all of her attention on me. I give her a tight smile, feeling uncomfortable. The last thing I need is a pretty girl who wants to hook up with me.
"Hi," I say, not wanting to be rude. "You're one of Alexis' friends, huh?"
"Mmm-hmm. My name's Lindsey." She smiles and I smile back. Well, what's the harm in flirting a little? "So you're Orli? That's a cool name."
"It's just a nickname for Orlando," I shrug. "Nothing special."
She laughs, and it's a pretty, feminine laugh. Nothing like Viggo's very manly laughter. "Well, I've never met anyone named Orlando before, so I think it's kind of special. I read that book, though -- the Virginia Woolf one."
"Are you studying English?"
"Neuroscience," Lindsey says with another smile. She's very petite with a nice curvy figure. Yeah, nothing like Viggo. "I think our friends have abandoned us," she remarks, and I realize that Dom is dancing with the other girl on the fringes of the crowd. "Wanna join them?" She offers me her hand.
"Why not?" I grin back, realizing that this is the perfect way to forget about Viggo. Dance with the cute girl, forget all about the ruggedly gorgeous wanker.
We start dancing, and I realize that this is the first time I've even looked at a girl since I met Viggo. Strange. After all, I'm bisexual and women are beautiful creatures. It's only natural that I'm pulling her a little closer, right? She lets me guide the movements, which didn't happen when I danced with Viggo. When we went to that club, he grabbed my arse and ground against me. Not that I miss that or anything. Not at all.
Lindsey is soft where Viggo was firm, she's curvy where Viggo was lean, she's nothing like him, so why can't I get him out of my head? Trying to ignore that thought, I chuckle when I look over at Dom doing a shameless bump and grins with Alexis. "What?" Lindsey asks curiously.
"Your friend is a pervy hobbit fancier!" I shout over the music.
"Huh?"
"Never mind." I pull her body closer, but the smell of her flowery shampoo and soft perfume is immediately eclipsed by memories of Viggo's unique scent. Jesus fucking Christ, what is wrong with me?
For a while, we just dance and smile at each other. It's been ages since I did the casual hook-up thing, but maybe tonight I should get back into it. Maybe Dom is right when I says I need to stop hiding from the world. Although when I see him looking at me, he's frowning. What does the bugger want from me now?
"Orlando?" Lindsey's voice pulls me out of my thinking.
"Yeah?"
"Wanna get out of here? My place is empty right now."
Jackpot. The *really* perfect way to forget about Viggo would be to have a nice screw -- with a woman, no less. Maybe I'll even turn straight again. I'll be like a new version of that Virginia Woolf character after all, in my case going from straight to bi to straight. And then when I see Viggo next week, I'll feel nothing because cock won't even be a turn-on anymore.
"I'd like that," I tell her with a smile.
We leave the dance floor, although I stop when someone grabs my shoulder. It's Dom. "Orli, can I talk to you for a second, mate?"
"Um, yeah. Lindsey, I'll meet you outside, okay?" She shrugs and nods, leaving us alone. "Where's Alexis?" I ask him.
"Getting a drink. Look, what the hell are you doing?" His gray eyes are accusatory, and it pisses me off.
"What the fuck does it look like? I'm gonna get laid for the first time in three months."
"You're doing this because of Viggo."
"What does it matter why I'm doing this?"
"You're going to regret it tomorrow. You're going to regret it next week when you see--"
"Dom, please shut the hell up," I snap. "Don't tell me how to run my life."
"Fine," he sighs. "I can't stop you, but you're making a mistake."
"Thanks for your words of wisdom. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to shag a cute girl."
I walk out of the club and find Lindsey, who's already hailed a taxi. "Come on," she says. I join her and she gives the driver her address. Dom's wrong; I'm not making a mistake. I know exactly what I'm doing.
We reach her flat in no time, and she tips the driver generously before we step out of the car. For a moment, we just stand on the sidewalk kissing, and when she breaks away she's smiling again. "Orlando," she says softly. "Should we go inside?"
All of a sudden I get a cold knot of fear in my stomach. I can't do this. This isn't going to help anything, it'll only make things worse. Because Dom *is* right, I'm going to see Viggo next week and I won't be able to even look at him if I do this. It's not cheating, but it's wrong all the same. I definitely can't do this.
"Lindsey, I can't."
She looks at me incredulously. "What?"
"You see, I . . . I'd just be doing this as a rebound kind of thing."
"Look, I'm not trying for a relationship, Orlando. Just one night."
"Yeah, I know. But I can't do that."
Lindsey shakes her head in disbelief. "You're a complete jerk, you know that? Go fuck yourself, Orlando." She disappears into her building and I close my eyes. What a great fucking evening.
*****
It's after midnight when I get back to my flat, peel off my clothes, and fall into bed. This is insane. I just turned down sex with a good-looking girl. What the hell is wrong with me?
Of course, I know the answer to that question -- he fucked everything up and now I can't have a life anymore. I hate him, I really do. But a little voice in my head reminds me that I turned that girl down because I care about his feelings, so how much can I really hate him? Is it impossible to hate someone and be in love with them at the same time?
In five days I'll be in New Zealand and see him face-to-face. Honestly, I have no clue how I'll react. I can't go back to living a lie, and I doubt that he's suddenly come to the conclusion that coming out isn't a problem for him. So there I'll be, forced to spend time with him and knowing that I can't allow myself to love him the way I used to.
I need to find some way to get over this. Maybe seeing him will bring some kind of closure; maybe I'll take one look at him and wonder why on earth I even loved him to begin with. Not that I think that'll actually happen. He's going to be the same exact person he always was -- brilliant, funny, warm, crazy, sexy, amazing. But I'm going to have to ignore all of that if I want to get on with my life.
Because I can't stay in love with him forever.
