THE WAY WE ARE (ch 38b / 44)
PAIRING: Orlando/Michael (OMC)
RATING: Overall NC 17
DISCLAIMER: Not true, never happened no matter how hard I pretend.
SUMMARY (story): While in London to shoot a movie, Orlando meets Michael who stirs new feeling in him. Soon he is forced to re-consider his sexuality, what he wants, how far he is willing to go and how much he is prepared to risk.… And a lot of other stuff; thrown in for entertainment!
SUMMARY (chapter): The Fun Palace isn’t much fun and Orlando needs to make a decision.
BETA: The brilliant, all knowing and just generally amazing
idlesloth cleans up my grammatical mess, catches the spelling mistakes and provides invaluable moral support. Thanks a lot.
AUTHORS NOTE: I know next to nothing about Disney contracts. It is made up and no disrespect is meant to the organisation.
FEEDBACK: Makes my day. Seriously; it makes my day better.
roomfor2 made the lovely banner for me.
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Chapter 38b
“Look, it’s a standard agreement and it does have a morality section but it doesn’t make much difference; it’s not like they enforce it vigorously,” Orlando explained. He knew the agreement by heart, having gone over it quite a few times in recent days. “I figure it’s a matter of ‘what people don’t know does no harm’. I mean, you can’t strip off on national TV or endorse the use of heroin but they don’t really care what you do in private. It’s just about the public image.”
“So you’ll sign it and lie?”
“Yes,” Orlando nodded. That was pretty much the essence - at least that made it clear that Orlando wasn’t planning to end their relationship over a few ridiculous clauses written by an old, narrow-minded lawyer. “Well, it’s not exactly unheard of,” he added when Michael just stared at him sceptically. “Do you know how many actors take drugs or spend their nights with call-girls? And they all sign. No one cares as long as you’re discreet.”
“Maybe you should care,” Michael said dryly and Orlando shrunk a little in his seat, he should care, he did care and he wasn’t proud of himself. No matter how he justified it, he was compromising his values because he was scared to fight this battle.
“You could ask to have the clauses removed. It’s not uncommon. Lots of actors do,” Michael stated, causing Orlando to look at him, surprised. Apparently Michael knew quite a bit about Disney contracts. This was an option Orlando had briefly considered and quickly dismissed.
“Well, yes they do,” he cleared his throat, this wasn’t going to sound very courageous no matter how he phrased it, “But I didn’t ask the last time, so it will look a bit strange. I mean, I would certainly have to tell my manager and my agent why I’m asking them to negotiate it.”
“So you would rather lie on paper than be honest with your own management,” Michael noted.
Orlando didn’t know how to respond to that, he had a million good excuses and explanations but, in short, that had been a pretty accurate statement. He finished off his drink, quite a lot of whiskey in one mouthful, then muttered, “It’s not that simple, Michael. I think it’s best to just sign it and be discreet.”
“Hide.”
Orlando shrugged, “Just like we have been.”
“So, hide,” Michael asserted again, “Only more because now you’ll be obligated to do so. Would I even be allowed to visit in LA?”
Orlando rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. This was a dangerous, difficult conversation and not at all how he wanted to spend his time with Michael. He wanted to go home, fall into bed, be kissed and made love to and fall asleep in Michael’s arms while a little internal voice whispered soothingly to forget about contracts, managers and impossible visits to LA for at least another three weeks.
Michael visiting him in LA would be a bad idea. Even in Scotland it had been risky, more than frowned upon by Robin, and could definitely have caused some on-set gossip; possibly had, only it hadn’t surfaced. In LA it was worse. Half the onset rumours always leaked somehow, the tabloids had sources everywhere, the paparazzi were merciless and Orlando didn’t even have a private house to retreat to. It was already negotiated that Disney would be paying for his stay at the Chateau Marmont, where he most certainly could not share a room with Michael - spare guestroom or not. It was the spot for celebrity sightings and where half of the Hollywood gossip originated. Furthermore, and even more likely to cause problems and outcries, Aileen and his agent would be there.
“Probably not,” he answered honestly, “but I could fly home sometimes. We would see each other then…” He watched Michael toy with his now empty beer bottle without meeting Orlando’s eyes. “I know five months is a long time, I know it would be tough but if you…” He shut up when the bartender came to clear their table. Apart from people stopping by occasionally for take-away beers, the bar was still empty so Orlando figured it was no inconvenience to ask for another drink to be brought. Michael ordered a whiskey as well, looking relieved that they would soon get more alcohol.
Orlando swallowed, preparing to continue the hardest request he could remember making.
“If we could try… If you would wait for me, I would really like that.”
“What would I be waiting for?” Michael asked earnestly and Orlando looked at him in mild confusion. “Will things be different after this movie? Will there ever be a time when I’m allowed to visit, when we don’t have to fear your people barging in or when even your house isn’t off limits?”
“But I…” Orlando was dismissed with the wave of a hand.
“Or are you just asking me to wait around for whenever you have time for a fuck in my apartment?”
“Michael,” Orlando addressed him sternly, “that is not what we have, and that is not what I’m asking.” He refused to reduce their relationship to something so sordid, even though he was ashamed to admit that, in reality, it wasn’t far from what he was asking, even though feelings had clearly been taken out of the equation.
“Isn’t it?”
“No.” Orlando held back any further comments as the bartender served their drinks. His insides were shaking but he didn’t know whether it was from brewing anger, sadness, or shock because his lover was suddenly forcing reality in his face. He took a large swig of whiskey. “I really want this to work.”
“Yes, but you want it to work completely on your terms,” Michael argued. “You want me to wait at the backdoor while you go for walks in the park and bring twenty year old actresses to premiers just to keep your image intact. Being discreet is one thing, lying is something else and I can’t just go into the closet with you.”
Orlando found very few words to defend himself. He felt terrible and all he could do was shake his head - more at himself than because he disagreed. He was asking Michael to lie in order to protect Orlando’s secret, did require a person he cared about to be hidden away behind fake facades.
Michael leaned closer to Orlando who was turning paler by the second, “You’re the one using big words and claiming you want things to work between us, but how can they if we’re not even allowed to see each other?”
“It’s just very difficult, Michael,” Orlando scratched nervously at his jeans; he didn’t want to look up and reveal the fear which was surely starting to show in his eyes.
“I know,” Michael reached out to still Orlando’s hand, tempting fate by giving it a short squeeze which was returned with an almost painful grasp before Michael let go. “Look, it’s not like I want to escort you on the red carpet,” Michael stated, hoping that would somehow soothe Orlando. “I don’t even want to walk through the bowling lanes holding hands, but I do want to share a taxi out of here without you worrying what people might think.”
“But what do you want me to do?” Orlando asked quietly. He looked so incurably sad now that Michael had to restrain himself from taking him in his arms, telling him everything was fine after all. But it wasn’t. And neither could he hold his distressed boyfriend when they were in public.
“Orlando, it’s not just a matter of what I want, it’s a matter of facing facts. I mean, it’s not just about this next movie, right? If we’re considering the longer term….” Michael paused, apparently to watch his ice-cubes melt before he continued in a lower voice, “and I assume we are, if you are asking me to wait for five months,” he looked up at Orlando who bit his lip and gave a faint nod, his stomach suddenly very uneasy, “then we have to be able to see each other…”
“We will see each other,” Orlando objected, “we have been, right? We’re together all the time.”
“And people have found out,” Michael said firmly, “that’s my point. There are always a million people around you and it’s only a matter of time before more of them figure it out.”
It was true, of course. Orlando mentally counted four people who knew for sure - and he only met Michael three months ago. The time they had been together was even shorter and the majority had been spent in the confines of Michael’s apartment, apart from a few nights out with their common friends and three risky days in Glasgow. They couldn’t be much more discreet if they were also to maintain a relationship that even resembled something normal.
People were going to find out.
“You have to accept that more people will know about us,” Michael echoed the thought in Orlando’s head. “Actually, more people will need to know if it’s ever going to work. You can’t lie forever… I can’t lie forever,” he added quietly. “I’m not asking you to give a public statement just…. You need to at least tell those closest to you, so we can be together without fearing suspicions from your own camp.”
“But then the story is bound to leak. It’s only a matter of time,” Orlando whispered.
“I know, but it is regardless,” Michael argued, sounding a little frustrated.
“But my management, my family will know.”
“I know,” Michael stated again, “that’s why you have to tell them yourself.”
Orlando knew that his management, his agents, weren’t homophobic or judgemental; knew they would deal with the situation as best as they could, but still he couldn’t help fearing that maybe they would start bypassing him, consider him a risk and instead give the good deals to younger, better-looking actors with flawless images. He didn’t even dare to think about how to reveal it to his family.
“You have to accept there might be some industry gossip, unsubstantiated rumours on the internet. It’s not like you have to confirm it. I promise they won’t get any photos of us kissing in the High Street,” Michael continued. Orlando had trouble taking it all in and stared blankly at Michael as he leaned forward and whispered seriously, “This isn’t a romantic fairytale, okay. Are you prepared for the risks? Is it worth it?” Michael sighed before adding, “Orlando, you have to be realistic about this.”
‘You have to be realistic, Orlando’ - it wasn’t just Michael’s voice now; it was his parents, Aileen, Robin, and countless other people. He had to be realistic sometimes. What he wanted to happen and what did happen were not the same things.
He felt as if he were being brutally awoken, pulled into another world, a world he had ignored for months - the real world.
Cold panic grabbed hold as his rational side suddenly took over and pushed all longings and hopes to the side. For the first time since meeting Michael he saw clearly, with no cloudy illusions, wishes or daydreams. He could really lose everything. If he acted on his feelings, acted on impulses, listened to the little voice promising happy endings, then he risked everything he had ever worked for.
His entire adult life had been about work, his career, being Orlando Bloom. It was all he knew and he could no longer see an alternative. How could he risk everything he was? How could he tell his mum he was kissing boys again, tell his family, his management… what would they all think? What would the world think? Orlando did love Michael. Loved him so much it felt as if half of his soul was escaping him now, leaving to settle into Michael where it would dwell forever. His heart was clenching painfully and his throat was screaming, reminding him to breathe. He loved Michael but how could he risk everything for a relationship that may not last? Michael made Orlando come alive, evoked feeling he hadn’t known existed - but Michael was not the most dependable of boyfriends. If nothing else, his run-out in Glasgow had proved that. What if they didn’t make it? What would he have risked everything for - maybe lost it all for?
“Is it worth that?” Michael asked again, causing Orlando to refocus and look into Michael’s eyes. There was a subtle expression there that he couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t anger, not even hope; maybe it was fear… Orlando couldn’t bear to look closer.
“No.” He stared down at his own hands, “I can’t, Michael.”
“But then it can’t work,” Michael said quietly. Orlando forced himself to look back up and meet his gaze as he whispered, “I know. I’m sorry.
He was sure he saw the exact moment Michael lost all faith in him and never had any of his own words felt more empty than those he spoke of love less than an hour ago.
“Okay,” Michael’s voice sounded hoarse and he cleared his throat, “Okay. I guess…” he raised his glass as if about to take a sip then placed it on the table instead.
“I’m so sorry, Michael.”
“No, that’s… That makes sense,” he shrugged, nodded and stood up. “It makes sense,” he said again, his voice now void of emotion and Orlando wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab Michael’s hand, prevent him from leaving but he sat still; this was his decision, after all.
“Michael, I wish things…” Orlando stopped. He wished things were different but that didn’t make them so, wishing didn’t change the situation, wishing was not enough and it was just more empty words.
“Yeah,” Michael nodded without looking in Orlando’s direction.
“Are we still friends?” Orlando asked anxiously, aware it was a cliché break-up sentence but it was important to him.
“Sure. Of course,” Michael gestured towards the door, “I’m just going to go, okay.”
“Yeah,” the word may have been audible, maybe it was a whisper, maybe it was only in his mind, Orlando couldn’t tell, could only watch as his lover turned around and left him.
Sitting alone on the leather sofa, he stared into his drink, not finding the determination to finish it nor the strength to put it down. He was unable to move and only dimly aware that people were starting to enter the bar area. The logical fear of being found out, risking his career was turning into a more innate panic at how to make it through the next hour, a day, how to go on as if nothing had ever happened when if felt as if his life had just stopped.
His feelings had all been denied, his longings restrained and his hopes crushed by reality and fear. Never again would he be with Michael, never be held, kissed or made love to and the pain was almost too overwhelming to keep inside. The knowledge that he had hurt Michael, had let down the one person he most wanted to see happy was even more unbearable and made him fight just to keep the tears away.
Life would go on, of course, would continue the way he had chosen, as it was supposed to, as people expected. The fear would release its hold, allowing room for nothing but emptiness. Orlando already felt it and soon it would eat him up and leave nothing but a hollow shell. He took a deep breath and looked around the room. People occupied a few tables now and he couldn’t just sit here alone. Finally, he put the half-empty glass down next to Michael’s and stood up. He needed to go home and call Aileen, tell her to finalize the papers for Atlantis.
“Orlando,” Chris stopped him in the foyer just as he had reached the exit, “is it nearly whiskey time?”
“I can’t now. I have to go.” Orlando swallowed, attempting to get his voice under control as it sounded oddly rough.
“Already?”
Orlando stared at his own hand grabbing at the brass handle. It was shaking. Now it grabbed the handle even harder, maybe so hard it couldn’t let go again. He didn’t seem able to press it down though and had no idea were to find the energy to push the door open.
“Is something wrong?” Chris had come to stand next to him.
“No. Just…” his voice still didn’t work.
“Orlando?”
“I just broke up with Michael so it’s a bit hard right now, yeah.” He reached up to wipe away a stray tear that suddenly escaped down his cheek.
“Yeah.” Chris placed a hand over Orlando’s other hand, helping him to release the handle.
“Just. It’s not an option, right? I can’t be with him?” He looked at Chris helplessly, exhaled shakily when Chris just placed a hand on his neck and pulled him into an embrace.
“I’m really sorry.”
“It’s for the best, right?” Orlando whispered as he pressed his face against his best friends shoulder.
“Probably,” Chris confirmed quietly and that consolation would just have to do. It was probably for the best. Only, it felt so very wrong.
***
Michael didn’t turn on any lights in the apartment, just headed straight for the bedroom. He needed to go to sleep, he needed to sleep and forget about tonight, needed his thoughts to stop and his stomach to stop cramping. In slow-motion, he shed his clothes, leaving on his t-shirt and boxer shorts before entering the bathroom.
He stared at the blue toothbrush standing next to his own.
Since Scotland he had stared at it every time he was in the room. Every time he had told himself to throw it out and every time he left it standing. He had been unable to do it; unable to accept that Orlando wouldn’t need it again. Despite his decision in Glasgow, he had been incapable of giving up a small hope.
He should never have met Orlando tonight; shouldn’t have acted on an unrealistic, groundless hope. He should have stuck with his own decision to end things rather than facing Orlando as he reached the conclusion.
Now he knew for sure what happened and it wasn’t even remotely better than forever wondering what could have been.
Michael understood human nature. It was weak and selfish, people looked out for themselves, their own interests, and nothing else. He had always accepted that and, while he knew that not everyone hurt, used or abused others for their own gratification, he also understood that no one risked millions or perfect images just to be with another person; certainly not to be with a person like Michael. He had already known that; hadn’t needed Orlando to tell him. Only, Orlando’s declaration of love had caused a small doubt that maybe Michael was wrong. But he wasn’t wrong.
Now he understood what love meant; nothing… and he wanted nothing more to do with it.
A sudden anger coursed through him and he stared at the toothbrush for only another split second then swiped the cup off the shelf, into the wall where it smashed into tiny pieces, landing on the floor around its contents. His body started shaking and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. Feelings flooded him, tore at his chest and threatened to choke him. He wrapped his arms around himself and stared at the broken glass, stared at the blue toothbrush till he could no longer see it for the unfamiliar tears that blinded him.