Coming down with something more Chapter 3
Coming down with something more (3/?)
Jude was feeling like shit. Real shit. Not the daily, 'oh, life sucks on occasions' shit. No, it was the big stuff he was dealing with right now. Yeah, he was a grown up, but whatever.
His body ached in places he didn't even know existed.
Places like the little bones in his elbows or in his ears for that matter.
And somehow he had overslept the Canadian winter and spring, because it was HOT.
He was feeling hot...and cold at the same time. Weird.
Jude opened his mouth to verbalize his confusion and frustration to himself, but ended up with a hurtful, dry cough.
´Sounded kind of different last night`, he thought absently.
To make that picture perfect, his head hurt more than a little bit and he was quite sure that the toilet was in for a not-so-nice encounter in the near future.
All things considered, Jude was ready to die, the sooner the better.
´Maybe Robert would come to my funeral. Saying some very moving and rousing words about
me`.
He would wear something in black and white, acting as if he was sorry and devastated.
Jude had to snicker about that, but coughed again.
Sighing, he decided staying in bed would probably be the best thing but, thirsty as he was, that option was out of question.
“Just man up, damn it,” came his croaky voice, issuing painfully from his mouth.
That in mind, the man made an attempt to get out off his bed as gracefully as he could - but it wasn´t any use at all.
After several minutes fighting with the blankets, eventually winning the difficult struggle and ending up lying sprawled boneless on the bed room carpet, Jude made it to the floor on his hands and knees.
Head hanging low between his shoulders, he tried to regain control of his breath again.
God, if Downey could see him right now, the man would laugh his ass off and call him a wimp.
´No he would not. He would be most concerned for your health right now. Based on how you feel, 'gorgeous' probably isn't a definition to use for your looks at the moment.`
Damn, he hated that little voice in his head, especially if it made said part of his body hurt even more. Now he couldn't even trust his own thoughts anymore. What was he thinking?
If the man really cared, why hadn´t he called him back, just once?
Finally, Jude took a tentative breath and made it slowly to his unsteady feet.
Wow...the room began spinning pretty nicely. Actually, more in a sickly manner, to be correct.
Just like his stomach.
Uh oh. Toilet. NOW.
Whilst stumbling almost blindly to the bathroom, his foot connected painfully with the door frame of his bed room. Jude stifled a cry, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, because the outcome would be a whole other disaster he was unwilling to deal with right now. Make it unable to deal with.
But he made it in time before his stomach turned into the living hell of acid, and yellow green bile burned its way up his esophagus and into his mouth.
God, he hated vomiting so much. Especially when he hadn't eaten anything to come up in the first place.
Hands bracing his body on the toilet rim, cramp after cramp shook his lean frame.
The spasms lessened after a while but he felt so hot and cold at the same time, tears of pain and exhaustion trickling down his face.
Finally, finally it was over. Sweat was soaking his shirt, salty pearls running down his spine, his neck, and his face.
His body was shaking like a leaf in a stormy dark night.
Boneless, Jude sank down to the bathroom floor. Pressing his face into the cool, oh-so-cool tiles, a combination of a sigh and groan escaped him.
He couldn't for the life of him remember a time when he ever had felt that sick before.
A faint, ringing sound reached his ears but he couldn't care less in that moment, as darkness finally claimed his consciousness.
o-o
Robert decided that he had waited long enough.
It was 6.30 in the morning and he already drank four cups of malt coffee.
He loved that stuff. Smelled and tasted almost like the real thing. Yeah, really.
What? He was an awarded actor after all, he could pretend.
And Susan had told him, the dishwater, sorry, the malt coffee was better for his health.
´Sure enough that there are other things which could destroy a man`, Robert thought.
He let out a heartfelt sigh. Damn, as if this was not his own fault but maybe, just maybe, he would get a second chance. It wouldn't be the first time.
At that time, eight years back, it was Susan who gave him a second chance at life, literally. He loved her more than anything, was thankful for all she did in the past to keep his head over the heavy sea he called 'the life after the addiction'. There was not such thing as “after” but he was clean of all chemical drugs.
At least some progress. Addicted he was nonetheless. To a man. His Judsie.
And now he was sitting in his kitchen, starring at his cell.
Jude was in Toronto, Canada, filming his new flick Repo-Men.
Yes, Robert did a bit of research while waiting for the right time to call. The internet was full of all kinds of information about the gorgeous Brit.
Then an remorseful notion entered his mind.
´I´m an ass.` He thought. ´I still call him my friend, we were lovers and I dream about him most nights, but I need to roam the internet to learn about his whereabouts. Pathetic.`
But changing the past was not in his power, and what's done is done.
In Toronto it was 2h later then here in L.A.
Damn, Robert could have called his friend hours ago.
Whatever!
He pressed the hot-key on his Blackberry, and seconds later the phone was ringing. And ringing and ringing.
Mhh...maybe Jude was on set? Then his phone was probably in the trailer during the filming process.
Robert could wait ´til the other man was done and back to check his cell, but that could take ages.
After months of ignorance, Robert now was desperate to reach the man, to talk to him and ask him if he was okay or whether they could be friends again and maybe more, if Jude still wanted to.
So he went for his laptop to look up the director or someone from the staff.
Ten minutes later he had the name of the director. Miguel Sapochnik. A name he vaguely
remembered but couldn't place.
His agent could for sure. So he called him first.
He made it pretty clear how important the issue was. Knowing Robert, his agent didn't ask any further questions and just did what he was asked to do.
About half an hour later he got the number from the directors office and from his cell phone.
´First the cell`, Robert thought.
After the fifth or sixth ringing a male voice answered. Bingo.
“Sapochnik speaking.”
Clearing his throat Robert answered.
“Uh, hello. It´s Robert Downey jr. Maybe you know who I am?? Sorry for bothering you but I have to ask you something.” He heard a little gasping noise on the other end. So the man DID know him. Good.
“Of course, Mr. Downey. How can I help you?” The guy sounded just a bit nervous.
“Are you on set? Sorry, I know you must be very busy at the moment, but I have to speak to Mr. Jude Law. It´s very important. So if you don´t mind...?”
Suddenly it was him who was nervous.
He felt a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach and his hands were sweaty. Jude was probably just a few feet away, listening.
“Uh...Mr. Downey, I´m sorry. But the whole crew got a day off. Jude is certainly in his hotel suite.
We had a lot of work to do the last couple of weeks and the schedule was more then demanding.
Did you try his phone?” The director asked nonchalantly.
His first reaction was to snap at the other man and tell him that 'of course he had tried to call Jude on his phone first'. What was this little ass thinking? That he was stupid? And why had he called him 'Jude' and not 'Mr. Law'?
Taking a deep breath, Robert answered.
“Thanks Mr. Sap...ochnik? Yes, I was ringing his cell but he wouldn't answer it. Was he well the last time you saw him?” He had to ask, the weird dream again weighing on his mind.
There was a short break on the other line, a whispered ´Yes, right back` and then he was there for Robert once again.
“Well, Mr. Downey, we are all exhausted, as I just mentioned. Jude seemed a bit under the weather so to speak. A little cold maybe. The day off will help him and the rest of us recuperate.
Uhh...not to sound impolite Mr. Downey, but my wife asked for my attention and...yeah, well..”
“No, no. It´s okay. Just enjoy your day Mr. Sapochnik..”
“Miguel”
“Yes, and my best regards to your wife. Goodbye.” No wonder he called him Jude. The guy was a bit too bolt for Roberts liking.
“Bye, Mr. Downey.”And the line went dead.
Robert frowned. A bit under the weather? A cold and working his ass off?
Maybe he should try to reach Jude later on, but the niggling worry told him otherwise.
He was just done booking a flight to Toronto as his wife appeared in the kitchen door, wearing the silk, pale lilac dressing gown he presented to her on their last anniversary.
“Hey honey,” she purred, still sleepy. “Something wrong?”
And again he felt the guilt settling down in the pit of his stomach. But he was done with lying.
“ I dont´t know yet dear, but I need to fly up to Toronto. I think something is wrong with Jude.”
Spoken out loud, he knew he was right.
Chapter 4