TITLE: Some Kind of Heaven (13/22)
AUTHOR: Elizabeth (sef7881@aol.com)
WEBSITE: https://www.angelfire.com/scary/randominsanity/RandomInsanity.html
PAIRING: Viggo Mortensen/Orlando Bloom
RATING: R
SUMMARY: Understanding the fear (Orli's POV)
FEEDBACK: It's a giddy little thrill at a reasonable price
WARNINGS: Angst, references to violence
DISCLAIMER: This story is solely a product of my twisted imagination
ARCHIVE: Help yourself, just drop me a line so I can brag to my friends
AUTHOR'S NOTES: The crime mentioned in this chapter is completely fictitious
DATE WRITTEN: July 25th, 2003
"Elijah, I can't *believe* how many DVDs you bought," Sean laughs. "And why on earth did you buy 'Teen Wolf'?"
"Because it's a cinematic masterpiece," Lij insists. "Plus, the Balrog in the animated 'LOTR' looks a lot like Teen Wolf."
"Dude, you're insane," Dom snickers.
"'Dude'?" I ask with a grin. "Dominic, are you becoming a Yank on me?"
"Word to your mother," Dom tells me, flipping me the finger.
"Yo, yo, what's happening punks?" Lij laughs. "I am the baddest mofo on this hizzhere planet! I put the G in Gangsta!"
All of us raise our eyebrows and shake our heads. "We love you, Lij, but you're not a gangsta," Sean gently informs our friend.
It's been about this level of silliness all day, which is just fine with me. The four of us spent the afternoon at this ridiculously large mall, and now we're on our way to go see the new 'Austin Powers' movie. Naturally, the freeway is completely congested, and we're trying to stave off boredom as we sit at a standstill in Sean's car.
"Is there some kind of alternate route we can take?" Dom asks, drumming his fingers impatiently on the dashboard.
Sean shrugs. "I guess I could check the traffic report." He turns on the radio and scans it to the local news station. "They report the traffic every ten minutes or so."
I sigh and lean back in my seat, contemplating getting out of the car and walking to the cinema. My attention span rivals that of a gnat most of the time, so I'm only half-heartedly listening to the news as Lij and I play an impromptu game of travel tig in the backseat. The debate over whether or not America should go to war with Iraq is mentioned, as well as some stock market scandal and the fact that the local baseball teams won their games last night.
"Holy fuck," Dom mutters.
"What?" Lij asks, sitting up in his seat.
"Listen to this," Dom says, turning the volume up on the radio.
" . . . police arrived on the scene shortly after the 911 call was placed and arrested three young men, later identified as Christopher Vergara, Robert Woozley, and Trent Nagy. The victim, identified as Adam Warren, was taken to the Little Company of Mary Hospital in Torrance, where he is listed in critical condition after suffering a broken rib, a cracked skull, and several abrasions. According to witnesses, Mr. Warren was attacked after he exited a gay bar in West Hollywood a few minutes after two o'clock this morning. It appears that the victim did nothing to provoke the assault, and police are classifying the attack as a hate crime."
"Turn that off," Lij says quietly.
Sean quickly shuts off the radio. "Orli? You okay?" he asks me.
"I don't know," I tell him honestly. "I . . . I didn't think these kinds of things happen in L.A."
"Do you want to use my cell phone to call Viggo?" Lij asks, holding his mobile out to me.
"No. I want to go home."
"Look, why don't you call him and then go to the movie," Dom suggests. "It might make you feel better. You know, take your mind off the whole thing."
"I really want to go home," I insist, picking at a thread on my jeans. "I'm sorry about screwing up our plans for this afternoon, but I'm not in the mood to see a film right now."
"Hey, don't worry about it," Sean says, maneuvering his car into another lane.
"Thanks." I look out the window of the car as Sean pulls off the freeway and turns around. This is unbelievable. Some poor bloke was beat up just because he's gay. I try not to listen to the little voice in my head saying that I'm just as much a target for attacks as any other gay or bisexual man, and why didn't I realize this before? Why did it take me this long to figure out how much some people hate homosexuality?
Rationally, I knew about homophobia and how narrow-minded people can be. Atti had told me a while ago, back when we first became friends, about some of his less-than-pleasant encounters with those who disapproved of his 'lifestyle', but it never really affected me the way it's affecting me now. Since realizing that I'm bisexual almost three years ago, I haven't thought much about the prejudice I'll face when I come out. Hearing about this man being attacked is like a blow to the gut -- I'm starting to understand that some people will *hate* me just because I love Viggo.
Viggo. God, I want to go home and just see him and hold him. I need to kiss him and reassure myself that what we have is right, no matter what anyone else thinks. I need to--
"Orli?" Lij's voice jerks me out of my thoughts. "How are you doing, man?"
"Not too good."
"We're almost at your house," Sean tells me from the front seat.
"Okay." I don't really know what to say right now. I'm still getting over the fact that I could be a target of violence once I came out. Which means that Viggo could be a target, too. Oh God, someone could attack Viggo because he's bi. Fuck, I need to get home *now*.
We pull up to the house and Sean turns off the motor. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the movies?"
"Yes." My voice shakes a little as I unbuckle my seatbelt. "I really just want to be with Viggo right now."
"Alright," Sean sighs. "Listen, would you give one of us a call tonight? Just so we know how you're doing? We don't want to have to worry about you."
"Sure," I say with a tiny smile. I'm really lucky to have these guys as my mates. "Thanks for understanding."
There's a chorus of 'no problem' and 'you're welcome' from the three hobbits, and I say my goodbyes before getting out of the car. I walk in the front door and immediately go in search of my boyfriend. He's not in the living room, the kitchen, the bedroom, his studio, any of the bathrooms, or the garage. If he's not in the backyard, I'll freak out.
"Vig?" I call as I step out onto the patio. There's a loud splash and I look over to the pool to see Viggo swimming towards the edge.
"Orli?" he asks confusedly as he pulls himself out of the water. I launch myself at him and wrap my arms around him tightly. "Hey, hey what's the matter?"
"You're okay," I say, feeling tears spring to my eyes.
"Of course I'm okay. I'm also soaked, love." Viggo gently pulls away and grabs his towel, quickly drying himself off. "Come on, let's go inside." I refuse to release his hand as we go into the house. He steers me over to the couch and sits me down, dropping the towel on the floor. "Okay, what's the matter? What happened?" His brow is furrowed and I can see the concern in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you," I sniffle, trying not to cry.
"Orlando, what's going on?" He hugs me as I start crying. "Orli, love, please tell me what's the matter," he pleads.
"We turned on the radio to try and catch the traffic, and they had this awful story about a man who was beaten up for being gay. These three guys attacked him last night in West Hollywood after he left a gay bar, and now he's got, like, three broken ribs and a cracked skull." I try to stop crying but I can't. It's like a dam has burst inside of me -- I'm scared and angry, and so relieved that Viggo's right here next to me.
"Oh, Orli," Viggo sighs, tightening his arms around me.
"And I just don't think I realized how much some people will hate us when we come out," I sob. "I mean, I know that people can be prejudiced, but . . . these guys just attacked him for no reason! They thought they could beat him up because he's gay, and I didn't think shit like that happened in L.A., and it's the first time I've heard about a crime like this since figuring out that I'm bi, and I suddenly realized that people could want to attack us--"
"Orli, calm down," he urges.
"But Vig, someone could try to hurt you because we're together! What if something like that happened to you? That guy they attacked could have been you!"
"But it wasn't."
"It could have been!" I insist.
"But it *wasn't*," Viggo says again. "Orli, I'm right here; I'm fine."
"I know," I tell him, wrapping my arms around him and returning his embrace. "I just . . . I mean, I didn't understand . . ."
"Yeah, I know." He kisses my forehead. "Some people will hate us. And yes, we'll get nasty letters because we're in the public eye, and there will be people who think that what we have together is wrong. I wish I could say something simple like 'that shit doesn't matter because we have each other,' but it's not that easy."
"We're going to get hurt when we come out, aren't we? I'm not talking physically -- although I guess that could happen -- but it'll hurt, won't it?"
"Yes it will. And other people will get hurt, too," he says gently. "It won't be easy for people who care about us."
"Why the hell does it have to be like this?" I ask in frustration. "I don't fucking understand it!"
"It's just fear," Viggo says with a shake of his head. "Fear and stupidity. And unfortunately, there's not much either of us can do about it."
Something dawns on me suddenly. "This is why you haven't come out yet, isn't it?"
Viggo looks away for a second. "Yeah. When I first realized that I was attracted to guys, I was living in a small town and it was back in the seventies, when people were less accepting than they are now. That kind of stay-closeted-to-stay-safe mentality stuck with me as the years went by. Every time I heard about any kind of gay-bashing incident, it just made me more and more afraid of what would happen if I came out as bisexual. Sure, my family and friends knew, but the rest of the world was a very different story."
Even though the issue of coming out has affected our relationship to the point of nearly destroying it, and we've discussed this many times, I realize that this is the first time that I've been able to understand Viggo's fear. "God, I feel like such a twat," I mutter.
"What?" He looks at me with confusion.
"All this time . . . I thought I understood why you were afraid of coming out, but I just didn't get it. And I basically presumed I could tell you that it wouldn't be a big deal for us to come out and that you should just get over your fear."
"Orli--"
"Our entire breakup could have been avoided if I had just understood--"
"Orli, stop," Viggo tells me firmly. "First of all, do *not* get angry at yourself for not understanding why I was afraid. You can't make someone understand something, and rehashing what happened last year won't help anything."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course you can."
I hesitate for a moment. "Are you still afraid?"
Viggo sighs. "Yes. But not like I used to be."
"What do you mean?"
"Before I met you, I never thought that I would come out. Then after we got together, I knew that I was going to come out, because all I wanted was to be with you. But I couldn't just flip a switch and say, 'okay, I'm ready to come out now', and it killed me to have to tell you that. I'm still afraid of what might happen after we come out, but I'm not going to let that fear dictate how I live my life. We're going to come out in seventeen months, and *nothing* will change that." The fervency of Viggo's voice is punctuated by him pulling me even closer, and I put my head on his shoulder, kissing his neck.
"I love you so much, Viggo," I murmur, tears pricking at my eyes again.
"I love you too, Orlando. And no matter how many ignorant people think what we have is wrong, *we* know that it's right, that it's beautiful, and that's what's important. We'll survive whatever gets thrown at us after we come out, because there is *no* way that a small group of narrow-minded people will break up what we have together."
Viggo's own eyes are moist, and I urge his head down for a kiss. It's not a raw or intense kiss, and our mouths don't even open; instead, it's a simple way for us to affirm our love for each other. When we pull back a bit, he leans his forehead against mine and wipes away a stray tear that's making its way down my cheek. "Hey," I say softly.
"How are you doing?"
"Better." I smile a little and cup his cheek. "How about you?"
"Well, I'm a little cold sitting here in an air-conditioned living room in just a bathing suit," he chuckles. "But other than that, I'm fine."
I reach down to the floor and grab the towel, wrapping it around us. "There you go," I say with a grin.
"Thanks, baby." He adjusts the towel so it's around both of us. "You must be cold, too. You got all soaked when you hugged me."
"Yeah, I didn't care about the fact that you were all wet," I say. "I really needed to hold you."
"I'm just glad I was around. I had been thinking about going out for a while."
"God, I would have freaked out if you weren't here," I admit. "And I already worried the hobbits enough."
"Really?"
"Well, I sort of spaced out on them after I heard the report on the radio."
Viggo frowns. "Speaking of, maybe we should turn on the news at some point to see how that man is doing."
"Definitely," I agree. "Plus, I owe the hobbits a phone call; I promised them that I'd let them know that I'm okay."
"And you're okay now?" he asks.
"Yes," I tell him with a smile. "I'm okay now."
