Realistic Chapter 6
Title: Realistic - Chapter Six
Author: theartoffic
Type: LOTR RPS AU
Pairing: Orlando/Elijah
Rating: Adult overall
Summary: In the 21st century Artificial Intelligence is still in its infancy, some scientists toy with the idea of creating robots that look, and act, and think like human beings; in the future they are going to succeed. Realistics look real, feel real, and, at a glance, cannot be distinguished from the ones who made them. They are the result of hundreds of years of AI evolution, they are beautiful, perfect, and expensive, but to society at large they are not real. This is the story of one such Realistic.
A/N: Complete and will be posted as each chapter is beta'd. Previous chapters can be found by the tag :)
Beta: lisabellex Thank you for undertaking this project. My gratitude knows no bounds!
The American Heritage Science Dictionary
artificial intelligence
The ability of a computer or other machine to perform actions thought to require intelligence. Among these actions are logical deduction and inference, creativity, the ability to make decisions based on past experience or insufficient or conflicting information, and the ability to understand spoken language.
.... or the ability to love.
Banner: the lovely aranel80
“Wake up, Elijah.”
Elijah had closed his eyes, feigning sleep, when Orlando began to stir; afraid that Orlando might expect him to have gone into stasis though he’d ordered nothing. He doesn’t want to make Orlando angry and ruin this dream. He opens his eyes and stretches like a cat.
The sun is out, the bedroom awash in bright light, second only to the infectious smile on Orlando’s face. Elijah grins back, happy. “Good morning.”
“It is,” Orlando murmurs, brushing a kiss against his cheek, “and it’s only going to get better.”
“Oh?” Elijah watches, with no small amount of appreciation, as Orli slips out of bed and pads to the bathroom. He thinks it already has.
“Yes,” Orlando insists with a smile when he reappears a few minutes later, tossing him a white fluffy robe. “Like it? Courtesy of Iaole Hayatt.”
“You stole me a robe?” Elijah lifts it to his nose and sniffs; it smells like Orli.
“No. They give them to their guests,” Orlando explains. “I thought you might like one of your own.”
Elijah rises and pulls it on, fingering the soft material. Orlando thought of him while away. No one but David ever brought him things he could call his own, but those things are long gone now, left behind when the Company took him.
“Come on, I’m going to make you breakfast. My specialty. Actually, it’s my only specialty, French toast and coffee, but it’s very good.”
Elijah follows him eagerly to the sun-bright kitchen, and sits on a stool to ‘supervise’ as Orli puts it.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve made these,” Orli confesses as he rummages in the refrigerator. Elijah watches as he checks the date on the milk, sniffing it suspiciously. “But you’re going to love it.”
Elijah smiles-he’s sure he will, if for no other reason than this: having breakfast made just for him.
“Here, try this.” Orli slides a small glass of orange juice across the breakfast counter to him.
Elijah takes a sip and is surprised by the shockingly sweet taste. Orlando is laughing softly when he looks up. “What’s so funny?” he wonders as he licks the drop still clinging to his upper lip.
“Nothing,” Orland replies gently, “just the look on your face. Do you like it?”
“It’s so sweet.”
“Yeah,” Orli agrees, watching him closely. “What about … in general?”
“Yes, in general and in specific, I like it. I like sweet things,” Elijah replies brightly, wishing he had the capacity to eat more, to try more sweet things, but knows he’ll have plenty of time to try them all.
“No.” Orlando smile looks uncertain. “I mean being here? Do you like it here?”
Elijah grips his glass, of course Orlando would wonder considering how they met. Perhaps he’s wondering if the Company was able to fix his ‘issue’. He meets Orlando’s eyes. “Yes,” he answers honestly, so far he does.
A wide, happy grin spreads across Orli’s face and Elijah is so happy to have put it there; he is even more grateful that it’s true.
He looks on as Orli makes coffee and breaks eggs - apologizing profusely when he has to pick out bits of shell. Eventually, Orlando gets the coated bread into the pan and Elijah waits, sipping his juice. He’s been around French toast and coffee countless times, but the smell has never before made his mouth water. He keeps leaning over the counter to breathe the scent.
Orli serves him right at the counter, most likely because the dining room table is still strewn with the remains of yesterday’s treats. He should have gotten up and taken care of it anyway, but he liked being held too much.
“It’s hot,” Orlando warns him as he lifts the mug to his mouth, so he blows across the surface as he’s seen before taking an experimental sip.
He does his best not to make a disgusted face, but apparently he doesn’t do a good enough job because Orlando is chuckling again, but it’s a warm, delighted sound and not at all cruel.
“It’s bitter,” Elijah admits sheepishly.
“I’m sorry, I thought you should try it as is, first.”
“I can’t believe people actually drink it like this,” Elijah admits.
“It’s a matter of taste.” Orlando’s cheeks dimple as he smiles. “You can add milk, or sugar, or both. Would you like to try that?”
Elijah takes another taste, just to be sure, and then nods. They end up adding two spoonfuls of sugar and enough cream to turn the coffee a pale facsimile of itself before Elijah tries it again.
“Better?” Orli asks.
“Much,” Elijah agrees, watching intently as Orlando drizzles maple syrup over his French toast.
“Wait until you try this.” Orlando’s brows waggle animatedly. “Go ahead,” Orli encourages.
Elijah cuts himself a slice, the syrup dripping off it as he lifts it to his mouth, and groans delightedly as the sweet hits his tongue. It’s indescribably good.
“Do you like it?”
Elijah smiles, licking the syrup from the tines of the fork greedily, and nods. “I never imagined …” He realizes he is practically bouncing on his seat and stops. He checks Orli’s reaction, anticipating displeasure at his child-like reaction, but Orlando is grinning, eyes sparkling warmly.
“I’m glad you like it. I’m not a very good cook, so this is about as good as it gets.”
“I could eat this every day,” Elijah confesses happily, feeding himself another small bite.
“That’s probably a good thing, then.” Orlando’s brows arch and Elijah notes he looks thoroughly amused. “You’re the first person ever to compliment me on my cooking.”
And you’re the first one to ever refer to me as a person, Elijah thinks, but doesn’t bother to correct him. “Aren’t you having any?” he asks when he notices Orlando has turned off the burner and moved the pan.
Orlando lifts his mug. “I am. I’m not much for breakfast.”
“You didn’t have to make it just for me.”
“Of course I did. I have one dish, I was eager to have you try it.” Orlando settles on the stool next to him. “I could have a bite of yours.”
Elijah cuts off a piece for Orli, all too happy to share.
*
“Can you get that?” Orlando shouts from the bathroom. Elijah is amazed Orli could hear the ringing of the phone over the running shower but he is glad to know that he should, in fact, answer it.
It’s Orlando’s personal cell phone and he can see from the display that it’s Tara.
“Who … who’s this?” she asks uncertainly.
“This is -“
“Elijah! Oh, hey, I’m sorry! I’m just not used to your voice yet, takes me awhile sometimes. How are you?”
Elijah smiles at her question. It’s probably habit but he likes the idea of her inquiring after him all the same. “I’m fine, thank you. Orlando is in the shower.”
“Ah, no big deal,” she replies lightly. “I just wanted to remind him that his Access Entertainment interview is running today. If you wouldn’t mind letting him know.”
“Of course,” Elijah agrees, grateful for her pleasant tone and nice demeanor. He listens as she rattles off the channel and time. “I’ll put it on for him.”
“Thank you,” she sighs. “He doesn’t ever seem to care about these things. Listen, I’m sorry for rushing Orli out on you the other day. It’s just that if I didn’t light a fire under his ass, he’d never get out on time. He’s like that, you’ll see. It’s like he has no concept of other people’s time.”
Elijah tries to analyze her voice - she apologized - to him - and by her inflection it sounded as if she meant it. He tries to remember the last time an acquaintance of an owner even spoke to him, other than just including him in conversation because he happened to be standing there. Only the ones who didn’t realize what he was ever engaged him.
“That’s all right,” he replies, hoping that’s enough. He has never had to accept an apology before. “How-“ as soon as the word leaves his mouth he wonders if he’s overstepped his bounds but it’s too late to take back now. “How was Iaole?”
“Wonderful!” she groans, her tone perplexing him for a moment. “I didn’t want to leave. I think that’s where Ron and I are going to honeymoon. Ron is my fiancé,” she adds quickly.
Elijah opens his mouth to offer his congratulations but, before he gets the chance, she’s talking again.
“Have you ever been? Oh shoot, I don’t think I should’ve asked that.” Her words almost run together she’s speaking so fast and he wonders why she’s so nervous.
“It’s fine,” he reassures her before lapsing into silence. He’s no good with small talk, not having had the opportunity to use it much.
“Well, I should go. Ron and I are still fighting over where to have the wedding. He wants to elope to Vegas but I’ve got a rich Uncle who’s willing to foot the bill for the wedding of my dreams out of guilt, can’t beat that.”
Elijah can clearly make out a long-suffering groan in the background followed by a man’s playful plea in favor of getting married by Elvis.
She giggles sweetly, a sound clearly not meant for him, and he thinks how lucky she is to be in love. “Time for me to show him the error of his ways, Elijah, Tell Orli I said ‘hi’.”
“I will,” he promises before the call drops and there is nothing but silence.
”Let me guess, that was … Tara?”
“Yes, she wanted to…” Elijah stops, struck dumb by the vision of Orlando wrapped in nothing more than a towel, crystalline droplets of water dangling like jewels from the ends of his hair.
“She asked me to remind you a-about your interview.”
Orlando’s lips curve into the most becoming, curious smile; the pang Elijah feels at the sight becomes almost painful when Orlando asks, almost shyly, “What?”
“Yuh- you’re all wet.”
Orlando’s smile turns to one of indulgent amusement. “Yes, that tends to happen when I shower.”
“Can I - could I … help you dry off?” Elijah stammers. It’s not out of bounds for him to offer but he doesn’t know if it is acceptable or not.
“You want to?” Orlando’s smile is mischievous now. Elijah nods as he stands, watching as Orlando unknots the towel gracing his narrow hips and holds it out for him.
Elijah ignores it, he has other methods, and in the end they could probably both use another shower, but Orlando whispers that he likes it when Elijah smells like sex and there is no reason to leave the bed.
“Your interview,” Elijah sits up with a start.
“I was there for it,” Orli’s protest is muffled by the arm thrown over his face.
“But Tara told me not to let you miss it.”
“So?” Orli teases. “I don’t know why she makes such a big deal out of these things. There have been hundreds of them and they’re all the same.”
Elijah fingers the soft sheets, he does not serve Tara, it is Orlando’s wishes and commands that count, no matter how curious he might be himself.
“You want to see it?” Orlando asks softly.
Elijah doesn’t admit the truth. “I want what you want.” The tips of Orlando’s fingers trace up his arm, exciting his skin.
“That isn’t what I asked,” Orlando’s tone is patient and kind. “I asked if you wanted to see it.”
Elijah nods. He’d like to see what the interview is about, what it might reveal about his new master.
“Then put it on, Elijah. You’re free to do here as you want. Whatever you want.” It sounds like a plea more than an order.
Elijah quietly slips off the bed and collects the remote, turning the television on and finding the appointed channel; the program is already on. “Do you think we missed it?”
“There is no such thing in this day and age,” Orlando murmurs, “but let’s watch and see.”
Elijah climbs back into bed, back into the circle of Orlando’s arms, and thumbs up the volume, despite the distractingly soft nuzzles and kisses Orlando places along his neck.
There is plenty of gossip and news regarding the entertainment industry, singers and stars Elijah has no interest in, knowing their appeal will rise and fall in the blink of an eye for him. Eventually the blonde-haired, blue eyed host begins her introduction to the piece on Orlando.
‘Recently, Inside Entertainment reporter Angie Day caught up with Seven Deadly Sins mega-star, Orlando Bloom, on the beautiful Iaole, otherwise known as Paradise Planet. There, she asked him about his role in the soon-to-be released, highly-anticipated movie and got us the inside-scoop regarding the tantalizing rumors that he may star in a new film with Veronica James. She also asked him about his recent purchase of a Realistic and how he’s handling the fall-out in certain circles.
‘Fall-out’. Trouble. Because of him. He steals a look at Orlando but sees no evidence of any irritation or anger on Orlando’s face. He wonders if that’s not because Orlando is an actor, unlike Mark or any of the others who were so easy to read.
On screen, Orlando sits with Angie on a cream colored couch, the opulent hotel room the plush backdrop. He listens to Orlando’s polite answers to the standard promo questions. Did he enjoy playing a Vampire? Yes, he loves playing new characters. How did he get along with his cast-mates? They were wonderful and he enjoyed the experience.
Elijah feels Orlando’s fingers trace circles against his hip and looks again. Orlando is watching him, not the screen; he returns Orlando’s smile.
“There has been a lot of press regarding your purchase of a Realistic, not all of it positive.” The statement draws Elijah’s attention back to the screen where he sees a photo of them, one obviously taken that night outside the restaurant. “Has it affected you at all? Made you regret that decision?”
He watches on-screen Orlando’s face carefully, looking for those little betrayals of emotion, wanting to know the truth, but Orlando simply smiles and shrugs. “There has been some negativity, yes, but it wasn’t a decision I made lightly. My reasons are my own.”
The last line is delivered with a no-nonsense firmness that makes Angie’s fake plastic smile harden.
“Is there anything you’d like to say to those fans who intend to boycott Seven Deadly Sins because of this?”
The camera captures the subtle twitch of muscle in Orli’s cheek, but Orli’s smile doesn’t falter.
“I would say that I respect their choice, but I would also have to add that I really don’t understand it.”
“You don’t understand why your fans are upset?” She seems amused by the idea that Orlando just doesn’t get it.
Elijah suddenly feels like he’s watching a replay of dinner with Max. Realizes that Orli’s gone quite still next to him, Orli’s hand has stopped its playful touch and is splayed against his belly, almost protectively.
“There is a growing movement against the idea of Realistics as a whole, and these fans don’t understand why you, being the star that you are, would need the services of -”
“I’m well aware of the misconceptions surrounding Realistics,” Orlando cuts her off bluntly, and for the first time in the interview his demeanor reflects something other than politeness, but it vanishes quickly, replaced by a coquettish little peek and grin, “but I can assure you I don’t need any help in that department.”
“But your Realistic is a male -“
On screen Orlando laughs and scratches distractedly at his cheek. “I don’t think I’d have trouble attracting a man if that’s my preference, do you?”
“Certainly not,” she agrees with her professional smile. “But surely you can see why the public holds the perception that they do?”
Orlando’s gaze narrows and he chews thoughtfully at his lower lip for a moment, all the while leaving Elijah to wonder why he would ever have opened himself up to this. It’s true that Orlando wouldn’t need any help attracting men or women sexually, or romantically. He must be nothing more than a novelty, just as he suspected.
“No matter what I say or do the public will always have their opinion,” Orlando says at length. “If they want to believe the worst in me then there is nothing I can say that will change that, but that was not my intention.”
“Care to clarify your intentions?” Elijah can hear the eager hope in her question, but she is not going to get what she wants.
“As I said before, my reasons are my own.”
She smiles indulgently. “It doesn’t sound like we’re going to get to the bottom of that today.”
“I have to keeps some secrets, Angie.” He drops her a little wink.
“You’ve been keeping a lot of things close to the cuff these days,” she chides. “If you won’t discuss your Realistic then perhaps you’d tell us if there is any truth to the rumor that you’re going to be starring in a film with Veronica James?”
“I haven’t made any plans yet.”
The corner of her mouth quirks wryly. “Veronica’s people have already confirmed it.”
“Well then, I guess the cat’s already out of the bag.”
“It starts filming on Halo in -” Angie, and Access Entertainment, disappear abruptly; he turns to find Orlando with his thumb on the off button.
The silence lasts but a moment before Orlando’s phone begins to ring. Orlando reaches for it, checks the display but quickly tosses it to the bedding. “I wanted to tell you about this myself.” Orlando gives him an apologetic smile.
“This is the movie your agent mentioned?” Elijah inquires politely, in an attempt to keep himself from wondering what this means for him.
Orlando nods, face serious, as he props himself up on one elbow.
“You’re taking me with you?” Elijah asks hopefully, once more only thinking of his place after the words have left his mouth. He mashes his lips together and leans forward, wrapping his arms around his bent knees.
“If -“ Once more the phone interrupts, Orlando glances at it and his irritation is plain to see judging by the annoyed set of his jaw; only when the ringing ceases does the tension disappear. Elijah has already prepared himself for the bad news.
“Sorry,” Orlando apologizes, indicating the phone.
“It’s all right.” He waits.
“If I can, Elijah. I mean, I want to. I just don’t know if it’s possible. Your credentials, your permission to travel off-world, I’ve applied but I haven’t received them yet.”
The phone begins to bleat again and Orlando exhales loudly.
“Maybe you should answer it,” Elijah suggests.
“It’s just, Max,” Orlando replies sourly, scrubbing at his cheek.
“You don’t think the papers will come in time?”
“I don’t know.” Orlando gives him an apologetic smile. “The Government is involved here, Lij; they work at their own speed, no matter how many people I shove money at.”
“But there’s still time, right? There’s still time before you have to leave?” He’s afraid of the way Orlando looks at the bedding, no eye contact means there’s something to hide or a truth to be ignored, either way it’s not in his favor. “Because ... otherwise I’ll have to stay here by myself.” Four days had been long enough, but four weeks?
”I know. I-” When the phone starts again Orlando picks it up and switches it to vibrate, cursing Max, and the fact that Max can’t take a hint, under his breath.
“Why don’t you just answer it?”
“Because,” Orlando replies through gritted teeth, “I’m not in the mood to deal with his bullshit.”
“Maybe it’s an emergency.” Elijah wishes he had altered his tone, or at least removed the sadness from it.
Orlando snorts derisively. “Oh, I’m sure Max thinks it’s an emergency, but trust me, it’s only an emergency to him, to his wallet or his good name.”
“You don’t seem to like him much. Why do you stay with him? You have a choice, right?” A freedom, he thinks, Orlando doesn’t seem to understand or value. He realizes he’s gone too far when Orlando bows his head like a scolded child. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t my place-”
“No, it’s all right. You’re right, you know.”
But Elijah wonders if that’s true when Orlando slips out of bed and dresses, pulling on a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt.
“I’d meant to cut him loose, but … plans changed.”
Elijah follows Orlando’s example, slipping out of bed to retrieve his clothes. “I really shouldn’t have said anything.”
He feels Orlando’s hands on his shoulders, then his face, tilting his chin until he’s looking into Orlando’s dark eyes. “I want you to say whatever you feel. I don’t want you to be afraid to speak your mind, even if you think I may not like it, do you understand?”
Elijah nods, but he doesn’t think he’ll make it a habit.
“That’s an order. Or a command, whatever it needs to be so that you’ll do it, yeah?” Orlando’s eyes search his. Elijah wonders if Orlando knows what he’s doing, what he’s done, and it’s not just because of the freedom he’s offered, it is so much more than that.
“Yes,” he agrees. He has no other choice. “You don’t think the papers will come before you have to leave, do you?”
Orlando shakes his head, apology apparent in his eyes again. “But we might get lucky. ‘Plan for the worst, hope for the best’, that’s what my mother always used to say.”
Elijah nods and smiles reassuringly; there’s no point in dwelling on it yet, not when they still have time to spend together. “How long does it usually take?”
“It can take up to three months for an application to be processed and permission returned, I only filed yours last week.”
“How long before you have to leave?” Elijah can tell immediately that he isn’t going to appreciate the answer, but before Orlando can reply there’s a buzz from the intercom.
“Orli? Orli, it’s Max. I know you’re home. Come on, man, I need to talk to you.” Elijah can hear the agitation in Max’s voice.
In the middle of their bedroom, Orlando stands obstinately with his arms crossed and folded against his chest.
“You can’t ignore me, I’m like the plague.”
“He’s got that right,” Elijah says softly and smiles when Orlando breaks into laughter.
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
Orli punches the button. “I’m busy.”
“You need to listen to me. I know what’s best for you. I - Listen, people are starting to stare, I don’t think you want me to be having this conversation with you like this, not unless you want to read the highly-embellished, Page 6 version.”
“He wouldn’t do that, would he?” Elijah asks incredulously.
“Well, you see,” Orlando explains with a wry twist of his lips, “he’d just say the reporters overheard his conversation; therefore it would be my fault, not his. Crafty bastard, isn’t he?” Orlando slaps the button that opens the gate and watches on the small monitor as Max climbs into his car and motors up the drive.
“Should I wait here?” Elijah asks.
“No, this place is your home now. I want you to be comfortable here.”
Elijah can hear the rap on the door as they descend the stairs. By the time they reach the foyer, Max is hammering away impatiently. He slips past as Orlando snaps the door open and into the living room.
“Patience is a virtue,” Orlando says tightly as he turns, leaving Max to trail after him or no.
“Orli … baaaby, I-” Max stops when he sees Elijah sitting on the couch and glances unsurely in Orlando’s direction.
“What’s so urgent, Max?” Orli’s voice is tight, angry.
“You weren’t answering your phone, so I - look, maybe we should talk somewhere else?”
“I can leave,” Elijah offers, seeing that Max is clearly feeling stifled by his presence. It’s nothing new.
“No,” Orli snaps at him curtly. Elijah knows the anger in Orlando’s eyes isn’t really meant for him, especially when it’s still in his eyes as he turns his gaze on Max once more. “What can I do for you?’
“Orli …” There is audible exasperation in Max’s tone, as if he’s a parent trying to deal with a spoiled child, “the movie company is freaking out about the press. They’re nervous; they don’t think it’s a good thing. They’re worried your fan base might boycott you and the movie because of-“
Elijah feels the weight of Max’s gaze.
“Don’t worry about it, Max. I’m not,” Orlando replies coolly.
“But Orli-“
“I said, don’t worry about it.”
Max runs his fingers through his hair and exhales angrily, pacing the patch of carpet between the couch and the oversized lounge chair. “I guess I don’t get you, man. Why are you ready to ruin your career over a - because of a-“
”A what, Max?”
Elijah ducks his head to shield himself against the anger and contempt in Max’s eyes.
“A robot, Orli. A fucking piece of animatronic whatever... What’s the deal exactly?”
Elijah hears Orlando snort angrily. “I know you’re worried about your bottom-line Max, or, should I say, the lining of your pockets, so, please, feel free to release me if you like.”
From beneath the fringe of his lashes Elijah can see that Max has stopped pacing, and when he ventures a further look he finds that Max is standing there with his mouth agape.
“This is your career,” Max finally sputters.
“No. This is my life. If people can’t understand that-”
“I don’t get it Orli!” Max explodes. “You can just send it back and put all this behind you.”
“You’re out of line Max.”
“They’re saying you’re a pervert.”
“Pervert?”
Elijah’s eyes slide to Orli’s face and he sees the clearly amused smile that graces Orlando’s lips.
“That’s all the rich fuckers buy them for, Orli! Everybody knows. They may say they’re ‘employing’ them but the whole world knows what they really used for.” Max’s eyes narrow and he lip curls up in a sneer. “Tell me, Orli, have you employed yours yet?”
“Get out, Max.” Orli’s voice is tight, and his face is a mask of rage.
“Orli you’re going to end up flushing your career. No movie company will want you.”
”So I suggest that you bail out now, before you have to go down on my sinking ship.” Orlando takes a few steps forward, causing Max to stumble backward.
“What? What happened, Orli? Did you bump your fucking head? Do you have a brain tumor? What the fuck’s wrong with you? You’re risking this deal with Veronica James. If you do this flick with her you’ll be set for life, your choice of movies, name your own terms - who you work with, who you won’t - the world will cater to you.”
“And whose dream is that, Max?” Orlando asks pointedly. “I’m already set, I don’t need this movie with Veronica to get what I want, I’ve already got it all. You’re the one who wants to feed off me.”
Max’s mouth works almost comically for a moment as he tries to formulate a comeback. “I’m just trying to be your friend here, warn you, help you get your fucking head on straight! The movie company for Veronica’s film may release you over this.”
“So let them. If they’re going to let me go over this then so be it.”
“You’re an idiot,” Max gasps in disbelief. “You’re a fool.”
“And you’re just worried about all the money you might lose. You’re not my friend, Max. You look at me with dollar signs in your eyes, don’t make it sound like you have my best interests at heart. We both know you’re looking out for number one.”
Elijah watches the little muscle in Max’s jaw flex and the vivid color of anger and frustration flush his face, wiping away his cool façade. “I still expect my cut.”
“Of course you do,” Orli replies bitterly. Elijah doesn’t think he sounds very surprised at all. “And I’ll see that you get it.”
Max and Orli stare at each other silently for a minute; Elijah thinks it finally settled, but apparently Max has one more dig.
“What’s going to happen when the novelty rubs off? What’s going to happen when you get bored with it, Orli? ”
“Get. The. Fuck. Out,” Orlando growls. “Go find someone else to glom off, because we’re done here, you and I.”
Elijah watches Max’s hands clench and unclench, his lips forming words again but each time Max seems to reconsider; finally he drops his hands in a gesture of defeat.
“I don’t know what to say, Orli.”
Orli’s glare suggests that nothing is the proper choice, and, for once, Max gets it right. He simply turns on his heel and lets himself out.
“What a fucking asshole,” Orlando breathes in the quiet after Max’s exit. “I thought … I thought acting would be fun, exciting, you know? But they all just want a piece of you. It’s all about what you can do for them, how rich you can make them, and if you threaten that … You can’t even live your own life.”
Elijah nods, he knows what it’s like not to be able to live for yourself, but he can’t admit that. Max’s question echoes in his head, ‘What’s going to happen when you get bored with it’?
“You should, you know,” Elijah says quietly.
“Should what?” Orli snaps, eyes still angry.
“Send me back.”
“What?”
“I’m too much trouble.” He doesn’t want to be responsible for the downfall of Orlando’s career, to be hated and resented in the end. He doesn’t want Orlando to look at him the way all the others have.
“You’re not the trouble, everyone else is,” Orlando huffs. Elijah watches as he adopts Max’s earlier behavior, pacing the same stretch of carpet between the couch and chair.
The only thing that makes him stop is the ringing of the phone.
He watches Orlando retrieve the handset beside the couch and shake his head at the display. “It’s him?”
Orlando nods as he flicks off the ringer. “How much do you want to bet that he’s leaving an apology? It’s too risky, you see, to walk away from such a cash cow.”
Elijah hurts for Orlando, for this revelation and for the fact that he is the reason for it. “Why would you throw your career away for me?”
Orlando stops pacing. “I’m not throwing away anything. Max is… Max is a greedy asshole.”
Elijah nods, he wouldn’t disagree with that, but he also thinks that Max is right. What will happen when Orli loses everything because of him? What happens when Orli inevitably gets bored?
Elijah knows. He knows exactly what happens. He gets returned, sent back to the Company for erasure and a new owner. The thought of it hurts him somewhere deep inside, but that is nothing a technician can fix.
“You don’t need me,” Elijah whispers. “You can have anyone you want.”
Orlando looks at him, frown furrowing his brows. “That’s not true. Why would you say that?”
Elijah feels a nervous buzz in the tips of his fingers, he is ruining the illusion of being an obedient robot, but why wait another day, or week, or year before Orli comes to the realization that spending his life with a Realistic isn’t what he wants after all? He can already feel himself becoming attached to Orlando, and he knows … he knows all too well the pain that comes after. Better to sever the ties now, perhaps knowing that he has spared Orli’s career would help.
“I’m not worth everything you have,” Elijah answers as honestly as he can without revealing the truth to Orlando. If Orli asks him any more pointed questions, any more ‘whys’ he might be forced into revealing the truth, his secrets, everything.
“Elijah, you’ve no idea what I consider ‘everything’ anymore. These people, they’re like vultures, they only exist to pick you clean -” Orlando stops abruptly and looks at the phone in his hand. Elijah assumes it must be vibrating, and judging from the look on Orlando’s face, it’s Max again.
Elijah blinks, stunned, as Orlando whips the innocent piece of plastic against the wall before stalking, wordlessly, out of the room. He stands and stares at the chipped paint on the wall and the shards of phone on the floor. He nearly revealed everything to Orlando. If the phone hadn’t rung Orlando might’ve probed deeper and then what?
He stoops to pick up the remains of the phone, gathering the tiny fragments in the cup of his palm. This is a mess that he can deal with, one that might not end with destructive revelations and a trip back to the Company, even if that might be best.
*
He is trying to pick out the splinters of plastic stuck between the baseboard and carpeting, the ones the vacuum didn’t get, when he hears the buzz of the intercom. He ignores it, assuming Orlando will answer it.
“Orli,” Tara’s soft voice pleads from the speaker in the empty foyer, “let me in. Please?”
Elijah rises, and walks to the monitor. He glances up the stairs, but there is no sign of Orlando. Of course he knows which one to push to admit her, he just doesn’t know if he should or not.
“Orli, please?” Elijah watches as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and turns to shield herself from the figures looming in the background. “Max is … look I can’t really say, you’ve got stalkers down here, please, just let me in.”
Elijah can’t, and won’t, leave her standing at the end of the drive. Orlando said this house is his, and he should feel comfortable here, so he puts his finger on the button for the gate and presses.
She looks relieved as she hears the noise and slips into her car. He watches the onlookers glance curiously through the gate, some of them have cameras and snap pictures before the gate closes.
“Oh.” Tara says when she finds it’s him waiting the entryway. She gives him a gentle, but still uncertain smile as she lays her purse on the small table. “How are you, Elijah?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” He gives her a polite smile in return. “How are you?”
“I’m … I don’t know.” Her unsure smile doesn’t change. “Is Orli here? I tried to reach him on the phone.”
He trails after her as she walks familiarly into the kitchen and watches as she picks up what remains of the phone. He realizes he still has bits of plastic in his hand and brushes them into the trash.
“What happened?”
“Max happened.” Orlando’s voice comes from the stairwell; it makes Tara jump.
Tara sighs sadly. Elijah startles when he feels her hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze that he doesn’t really understand. He looks at her; the touch is nice, it appears to be without demand. Is it supposed to be friendly? No one ever touches him without wanting something, but he notices, when Orlando finally enters the kitchen, that she repeats the gesture with him as well.
“I can only imagine what that was like,” she says softly, apologetically. “I warned you about him.” She smiles at Orlando over her shoulder as she turns to the fridge and helps herself to a bottle of water.
“I let her in,” Elijah explains when he notices Orlando looking at him. “I hope you don’t mind?”
Orlando shakes his head and Elijah feels relieved. “What are you doing here?” Orlando asks her. “It’s your day off.”
She leans against the counter and grins at Orlando, giving him a little shrug. “Well, Max called me with his panties in a wad. Says you’re out of your mind among other things.”
Orlando lifts his chin and folds his arms across his chest defiantly.
“I’m not saying I agree with him, not after the talk you and I had,” Tara gives Orlando a meaningful look, “but I did see the interview today. There was a reason I wanted to be there when you did the interview. I wanted to avoid something like this.”
Orlando shrugs. “If I didn’t speak for myself they would just make something up.”
“Max brought up the words ‘career suicide’.” Her smile is something Elijah can’t read, he’s not sure if it is born of amusement or concern.
“Come on, Tara,” Orli replies softly, “you know that isn’t true. They’ll talk about it today, for a few weeks, and then it will all disappear into the ether. Another scandal will erupt and everyone will move on. That’s how it goes, isn’t it?”
Tara nods, but it’s obviously reluctant. “That could happen, yes, but … it’s just that, well, this is one of those hot button topics. It could really be a problem-“
“I don’t care, Tara. I’m sick of having to live by everyone else’s standards.”
“Then you should’ve thought about that before you put yourself in the public eye.” Her response is only slightly scolding, they type of honest admonition that happens, and is allowed, between close friends. “I’m sorry, I wish it was different but you know that’s human nature, especially when you’re in the public eye. People live to judge you, your talent and your personal life.”
“I wasn’t thinking about that. I just thought that doing a movie sounded like fun.”
Tara smiles. “I know. I remember.” This causes Orli to grin too, happily, it seems to Elijah, no doubt based on something they shared; he would love to know about it but now doesn’t seem the time, perhaps later he will get the chance to ask.
“Well,” she says, slowly rolling the bottle between her hands, “as your personal assistant and PR person, I’ve been thinking about how we can deal with this, and I have an idea if you want to hear it?”
“Do I want to hear it?” Orlando asks thoughtfully.
“You practically came up with the answer yourself.” She spins the cap off the bottle and takes a sip.
“I did?”
She nods. “You said it yourself, the public is easily distracted by the next big thing.”
Orlando looks at her warily. “What’s going on in that devious little brain of yours?”
She grins, something wicked and shark-like, something Elijah thinks Max would appreciate. “I’m saying that we offer them something even more scandalous, something that will make them forget all about Elijah.”
Elijah watches Orli’s brows arch, but there’s a teasing smile on Orlando’s lips now, one he’s glad to see. “I’m afraid.”
She laughs at him. “Oh, you should be.” She winks at him. “This is, well, it is a gossip’s wet-dream, if I do say so myself.” She blows on her nails and rubs them against her shirt.
“Now I really am frightened.” Orlando takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, resting his palms against the counter as if for support. “So … spill it before the curiosity kills me.”
“Right.” She nods, and Elijah feels a flutter of nerves himself when her gaze flicks to his before returning to Orli once again. “I know you can pull this off. I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think you could, Orli.”
Orli’s groan has a decided undercurrent of dread.
“Well, see, Veronica always gets into her roles. I mean really into her roles.” Tara twists the cap of the water bottle off and on, off and on. “She’s known to fall for her love interests in the film, and she loves to kiss and tell.”
Elijah can see where she’s going with this, her scheme is predictable. He gives Orli a sidelong glance, trying to read his reaction, but Orli’s face gives away nothing.
“So, you get on set,” she continues, her eyes never leaving Orlando’s face and Elijah’s sure she’s trying to get his reaction as well, “you get to know each other, you start … canoodling.” Tara pauses but only for a moment and spills the rest of her plan in a rush, as if she’s afraid Orlando will stop her before she can tell him the rest. “All you have to do is make sure the paparazzi catch you in action once or twice. She will kiss and tell, and tell, and tell, whether it’s true or not. She lives for this kind of attention, see? And then the media will have something juicy to sink their teeth into. They would love to hate to see you two together. It’s perfect.”
The kitchen is silent for a minute as Orlando stands, still braced against the counter, in quiet consideration of her plan. “I don’t want to fake a relationship, Tara.”
“But… you won’t have to for long, because that isn’t really the big scandal.”
“It’s not?”
Tara shakes her head. “No. I think the media would be on to it, they’d say that you were just using Veronica as a beard, so,” she licks her lips and gives Orli a nervous looking smile, “it would be the rumor that you’re seeing her assistant, too, that would make the real scandal. It’s her sister, you see.”
Orli’s eyes widen. “You want me to do what?”
“I just want you to make it seem like you’re seeing them both, just enough to make it seem like you are trying to have your cake and eat it too.”
Orli huffs and scrubs at his eyes. “And this would be good for me how?”
“Are you kidding me? It’s perfect. It’s so bad that it’s good. They might not fall for you being with Veronica but when you’re caught playing the sister too? Well, that’s something they won’t be able to help but lap up.”
“But they wouldn’t be in on it, would they?”
“No, it wouldn’t work if they were.”
“But … I don’t want to hurt anyone, Tara. I don’t want to use them.”
Her shoulders shrug as she slips around the counter to stand next to Orlando; Elijah watches as she reaches out and rests her chin on his shoulder. “I understand that, Orli. I know there will be some name calling and general besmirching of your reputation; I’m know there will be some fallout but the point is this, they will have forgotten all about Elijah.”
Orli tilts his face, resting his cheek against her head. “You really are a mental case. You know that?”
Tara only smiles. “That’s what you pay me the big bucks for.”
“How do you even know this plan of yours would work? Veronica could always turn me down.”
“Please.” Tara rolls her eyes. “She won’t.”
“And her sister, you’re so sure about her too?”
“Mmhmm. If you ever listened to the gossip you’d know that she’s jealous of Veronica, that she wants what her sister has; it would surprise no one if she hooked up with you just to spite her sister.”
“Tara … I know you mean well, but I don’t want to be responsible for ruining their relationship.”
“But if we play it right, it will be nothing more than incorrect presumptions. The media thrives on such things, Orli.” She pulls back to look at him. “You kiss Veronica, nothing more than what you’d do on the set, and the media will automatically jump to the conclusion that you’re dating. You use your charm on the little sister, you maybe make her think something more is possible, and Veronica just happens to find out about it and it’s an instant scandal. You excuse yourself from both of them on the grounds that you don’t want to cause trouble between them, they’ll realize they made a mountain out of a molehill and the media will have the new scandal of the moment. In the end that’s what they’ll remember because it’s just they type of thing they want.”
It all sounds like a very elaborate plan to Elijah, one no more stable than a house of cards, one that could be solved by simply sending him away; he doesn’t understand why Orlando simply doesn’t chose the easier option and send him away.
“I don’t know,” Orli sighs. “It’s a good plan,” he grins at her, “if my career really goes down the tubes you can always go do spin for the government-they’d love you.”
“It’s up to you. I could never make you do anything you don’t want to do. Stubborn.” She tweaks Orli’s nose and does a double-take at her wristwatch. “Shit! I’ve got to run. I’m going to be late! Ron and I are supposed to be picking up stuff for our engagement party. You didn’t forget, right? Thursday night?”
“Oh.” The sound of that ‘oh’ makes Elijah wonder. “Yes, definitely,” Orli nods.
“You’d better bone up on those acting skills, you liar!” Tara teases as she rushes to grab her purse. “Just think about what I said, okay?”
Orlando nods.
“That’s all I can ask.” She comes back to drop a kiss on Orli’s cheek. Elijah is surprised when she comes around the counter to do the same to him. “Elijah, the party is Thursday night. Seven sharp, my house. Orli has the direction but he’s terrible at being on time, you’ll make sure he’s on time, right?”
“Yes,” Elijah smiles.
“Good,” she returns it. “I expect to see you both there.”
tbc …
Author: theartoffic
Type: LOTR RPS AU
Pairing: Orlando/Elijah
Rating: Adult overall
Summary: In the 21st century Artificial Intelligence is still in its infancy, some scientists toy with the idea of creating robots that look, and act, and think like human beings; in the future they are going to succeed. Realistics look real, feel real, and, at a glance, cannot be distinguished from the ones who made them. They are the result of hundreds of years of AI evolution, they are beautiful, perfect, and expensive, but to society at large they are not real. This is the story of one such Realistic.
A/N: Complete and will be posted as each chapter is beta'd. Previous chapters can be found by the tag :)
Beta: lisabellex Thank you for undertaking this project. My gratitude knows no bounds!
The American Heritage Science Dictionary
artificial intelligence
The ability of a computer or other machine to perform actions thought to require intelligence. Among these actions are logical deduction and inference, creativity, the ability to make decisions based on past experience or insufficient or conflicting information, and the ability to understand spoken language.
.... or the ability to love.
Banner: the lovely aranel80
“Wake up, Elijah.”
Elijah had closed his eyes, feigning sleep, when Orlando began to stir; afraid that Orlando might expect him to have gone into stasis though he’d ordered nothing. He doesn’t want to make Orlando angry and ruin this dream. He opens his eyes and stretches like a cat.
The sun is out, the bedroom awash in bright light, second only to the infectious smile on Orlando’s face. Elijah grins back, happy. “Good morning.”
“It is,” Orlando murmurs, brushing a kiss against his cheek, “and it’s only going to get better.”
“Oh?” Elijah watches, with no small amount of appreciation, as Orli slips out of bed and pads to the bathroom. He thinks it already has.
“Yes,” Orlando insists with a smile when he reappears a few minutes later, tossing him a white fluffy robe. “Like it? Courtesy of Iaole Hayatt.”
“You stole me a robe?” Elijah lifts it to his nose and sniffs; it smells like Orli.
“No. They give them to their guests,” Orlando explains. “I thought you might like one of your own.”
Elijah rises and pulls it on, fingering the soft material. Orlando thought of him while away. No one but David ever brought him things he could call his own, but those things are long gone now, left behind when the Company took him.
“Come on, I’m going to make you breakfast. My specialty. Actually, it’s my only specialty, French toast and coffee, but it’s very good.”
Elijah follows him eagerly to the sun-bright kitchen, and sits on a stool to ‘supervise’ as Orli puts it.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve made these,” Orli confesses as he rummages in the refrigerator. Elijah watches as he checks the date on the milk, sniffing it suspiciously. “But you’re going to love it.”
Elijah smiles-he’s sure he will, if for no other reason than this: having breakfast made just for him.
“Here, try this.” Orli slides a small glass of orange juice across the breakfast counter to him.
Elijah takes a sip and is surprised by the shockingly sweet taste. Orlando is laughing softly when he looks up. “What’s so funny?” he wonders as he licks the drop still clinging to his upper lip.
“Nothing,” Orland replies gently, “just the look on your face. Do you like it?”
“It’s so sweet.”
“Yeah,” Orli agrees, watching him closely. “What about … in general?”
“Yes, in general and in specific, I like it. I like sweet things,” Elijah replies brightly, wishing he had the capacity to eat more, to try more sweet things, but knows he’ll have plenty of time to try them all.
“No.” Orlando smile looks uncertain. “I mean being here? Do you like it here?”
Elijah grips his glass, of course Orlando would wonder considering how they met. Perhaps he’s wondering if the Company was able to fix his ‘issue’. He meets Orlando’s eyes. “Yes,” he answers honestly, so far he does.
A wide, happy grin spreads across Orli’s face and Elijah is so happy to have put it there; he is even more grateful that it’s true.
He looks on as Orli makes coffee and breaks eggs - apologizing profusely when he has to pick out bits of shell. Eventually, Orlando gets the coated bread into the pan and Elijah waits, sipping his juice. He’s been around French toast and coffee countless times, but the smell has never before made his mouth water. He keeps leaning over the counter to breathe the scent.
Orli serves him right at the counter, most likely because the dining room table is still strewn with the remains of yesterday’s treats. He should have gotten up and taken care of it anyway, but he liked being held too much.
“It’s hot,” Orlando warns him as he lifts the mug to his mouth, so he blows across the surface as he’s seen before taking an experimental sip.
He does his best not to make a disgusted face, but apparently he doesn’t do a good enough job because Orlando is chuckling again, but it’s a warm, delighted sound and not at all cruel.
“It’s bitter,” Elijah admits sheepishly.
“I’m sorry, I thought you should try it as is, first.”
“I can’t believe people actually drink it like this,” Elijah admits.
“It’s a matter of taste.” Orlando’s cheeks dimple as he smiles. “You can add milk, or sugar, or both. Would you like to try that?”
Elijah takes another taste, just to be sure, and then nods. They end up adding two spoonfuls of sugar and enough cream to turn the coffee a pale facsimile of itself before Elijah tries it again.
“Better?” Orli asks.
“Much,” Elijah agrees, watching intently as Orlando drizzles maple syrup over his French toast.
“Wait until you try this.” Orlando’s brows waggle animatedly. “Go ahead,” Orli encourages.
Elijah cuts himself a slice, the syrup dripping off it as he lifts it to his mouth, and groans delightedly as the sweet hits his tongue. It’s indescribably good.
“Do you like it?”
Elijah smiles, licking the syrup from the tines of the fork greedily, and nods. “I never imagined …” He realizes he is practically bouncing on his seat and stops. He checks Orli’s reaction, anticipating displeasure at his child-like reaction, but Orlando is grinning, eyes sparkling warmly.
“I’m glad you like it. I’m not a very good cook, so this is about as good as it gets.”
“I could eat this every day,” Elijah confesses happily, feeding himself another small bite.
“That’s probably a good thing, then.” Orlando’s brows arch and Elijah notes he looks thoroughly amused. “You’re the first person ever to compliment me on my cooking.”
And you’re the first one to ever refer to me as a person, Elijah thinks, but doesn’t bother to correct him. “Aren’t you having any?” he asks when he notices Orlando has turned off the burner and moved the pan.
Orlando lifts his mug. “I am. I’m not much for breakfast.”
“You didn’t have to make it just for me.”
“Of course I did. I have one dish, I was eager to have you try it.” Orlando settles on the stool next to him. “I could have a bite of yours.”
Elijah cuts off a piece for Orli, all too happy to share.
*
“Can you get that?” Orlando shouts from the bathroom. Elijah is amazed Orli could hear the ringing of the phone over the running shower but he is glad to know that he should, in fact, answer it.
It’s Orlando’s personal cell phone and he can see from the display that it’s Tara.
“Who … who’s this?” she asks uncertainly.
“This is -“
“Elijah! Oh, hey, I’m sorry! I’m just not used to your voice yet, takes me awhile sometimes. How are you?”
Elijah smiles at her question. It’s probably habit but he likes the idea of her inquiring after him all the same. “I’m fine, thank you. Orlando is in the shower.”
“Ah, no big deal,” she replies lightly. “I just wanted to remind him that his Access Entertainment interview is running today. If you wouldn’t mind letting him know.”
“Of course,” Elijah agrees, grateful for her pleasant tone and nice demeanor. He listens as she rattles off the channel and time. “I’ll put it on for him.”
“Thank you,” she sighs. “He doesn’t ever seem to care about these things. Listen, I’m sorry for rushing Orli out on you the other day. It’s just that if I didn’t light a fire under his ass, he’d never get out on time. He’s like that, you’ll see. It’s like he has no concept of other people’s time.”
Elijah tries to analyze her voice - she apologized - to him - and by her inflection it sounded as if she meant it. He tries to remember the last time an acquaintance of an owner even spoke to him, other than just including him in conversation because he happened to be standing there. Only the ones who didn’t realize what he was ever engaged him.
“That’s all right,” he replies, hoping that’s enough. He has never had to accept an apology before. “How-“ as soon as the word leaves his mouth he wonders if he’s overstepped his bounds but it’s too late to take back now. “How was Iaole?”
“Wonderful!” she groans, her tone perplexing him for a moment. “I didn’t want to leave. I think that’s where Ron and I are going to honeymoon. Ron is my fiancé,” she adds quickly.
Elijah opens his mouth to offer his congratulations but, before he gets the chance, she’s talking again.
“Have you ever been? Oh shoot, I don’t think I should’ve asked that.” Her words almost run together she’s speaking so fast and he wonders why she’s so nervous.
“It’s fine,” he reassures her before lapsing into silence. He’s no good with small talk, not having had the opportunity to use it much.
“Well, I should go. Ron and I are still fighting over where to have the wedding. He wants to elope to Vegas but I’ve got a rich Uncle who’s willing to foot the bill for the wedding of my dreams out of guilt, can’t beat that.”
Elijah can clearly make out a long-suffering groan in the background followed by a man’s playful plea in favor of getting married by Elvis.
She giggles sweetly, a sound clearly not meant for him, and he thinks how lucky she is to be in love. “Time for me to show him the error of his ways, Elijah, Tell Orli I said ‘hi’.”
“I will,” he promises before the call drops and there is nothing but silence.
”Let me guess, that was … Tara?”
“Yes, she wanted to…” Elijah stops, struck dumb by the vision of Orlando wrapped in nothing more than a towel, crystalline droplets of water dangling like jewels from the ends of his hair.
“She asked me to remind you a-about your interview.”
Orlando’s lips curve into the most becoming, curious smile; the pang Elijah feels at the sight becomes almost painful when Orlando asks, almost shyly, “What?”
“Yuh- you’re all wet.”
Orlando’s smile turns to one of indulgent amusement. “Yes, that tends to happen when I shower.”
“Can I - could I … help you dry off?” Elijah stammers. It’s not out of bounds for him to offer but he doesn’t know if it is acceptable or not.
“You want to?” Orlando’s smile is mischievous now. Elijah nods as he stands, watching as Orlando unknots the towel gracing his narrow hips and holds it out for him.
Elijah ignores it, he has other methods, and in the end they could probably both use another shower, but Orlando whispers that he likes it when Elijah smells like sex and there is no reason to leave the bed.
“Your interview,” Elijah sits up with a start.
“I was there for it,” Orli’s protest is muffled by the arm thrown over his face.
“But Tara told me not to let you miss it.”
“So?” Orli teases. “I don’t know why she makes such a big deal out of these things. There have been hundreds of them and they’re all the same.”
Elijah fingers the soft sheets, he does not serve Tara, it is Orlando’s wishes and commands that count, no matter how curious he might be himself.
“You want to see it?” Orlando asks softly.
Elijah doesn’t admit the truth. “I want what you want.” The tips of Orlando’s fingers trace up his arm, exciting his skin.
“That isn’t what I asked,” Orlando’s tone is patient and kind. “I asked if you wanted to see it.”
Elijah nods. He’d like to see what the interview is about, what it might reveal about his new master.
“Then put it on, Elijah. You’re free to do here as you want. Whatever you want.” It sounds like a plea more than an order.
Elijah quietly slips off the bed and collects the remote, turning the television on and finding the appointed channel; the program is already on. “Do you think we missed it?”
“There is no such thing in this day and age,” Orlando murmurs, “but let’s watch and see.”
Elijah climbs back into bed, back into the circle of Orlando’s arms, and thumbs up the volume, despite the distractingly soft nuzzles and kisses Orlando places along his neck.
There is plenty of gossip and news regarding the entertainment industry, singers and stars Elijah has no interest in, knowing their appeal will rise and fall in the blink of an eye for him. Eventually the blonde-haired, blue eyed host begins her introduction to the piece on Orlando.
‘Recently, Inside Entertainment reporter Angie Day caught up with Seven Deadly Sins mega-star, Orlando Bloom, on the beautiful Iaole, otherwise known as Paradise Planet. There, she asked him about his role in the soon-to-be released, highly-anticipated movie and got us the inside-scoop regarding the tantalizing rumors that he may star in a new film with Veronica James. She also asked him about his recent purchase of a Realistic and how he’s handling the fall-out in certain circles.
‘Fall-out’. Trouble. Because of him. He steals a look at Orlando but sees no evidence of any irritation or anger on Orlando’s face. He wonders if that’s not because Orlando is an actor, unlike Mark or any of the others who were so easy to read.
On screen, Orlando sits with Angie on a cream colored couch, the opulent hotel room the plush backdrop. He listens to Orlando’s polite answers to the standard promo questions. Did he enjoy playing a Vampire? Yes, he loves playing new characters. How did he get along with his cast-mates? They were wonderful and he enjoyed the experience.
Elijah feels Orlando’s fingers trace circles against his hip and looks again. Orlando is watching him, not the screen; he returns Orlando’s smile.
“There has been a lot of press regarding your purchase of a Realistic, not all of it positive.” The statement draws Elijah’s attention back to the screen where he sees a photo of them, one obviously taken that night outside the restaurant. “Has it affected you at all? Made you regret that decision?”
He watches on-screen Orlando’s face carefully, looking for those little betrayals of emotion, wanting to know the truth, but Orlando simply smiles and shrugs. “There has been some negativity, yes, but it wasn’t a decision I made lightly. My reasons are my own.”
The last line is delivered with a no-nonsense firmness that makes Angie’s fake plastic smile harden.
“Is there anything you’d like to say to those fans who intend to boycott Seven Deadly Sins because of this?”
The camera captures the subtle twitch of muscle in Orli’s cheek, but Orli’s smile doesn’t falter.
“I would say that I respect their choice, but I would also have to add that I really don’t understand it.”
“You don’t understand why your fans are upset?” She seems amused by the idea that Orlando just doesn’t get it.
Elijah suddenly feels like he’s watching a replay of dinner with Max. Realizes that Orli’s gone quite still next to him, Orli’s hand has stopped its playful touch and is splayed against his belly, almost protectively.
“There is a growing movement against the idea of Realistics as a whole, and these fans don’t understand why you, being the star that you are, would need the services of -”
“I’m well aware of the misconceptions surrounding Realistics,” Orlando cuts her off bluntly, and for the first time in the interview his demeanor reflects something other than politeness, but it vanishes quickly, replaced by a coquettish little peek and grin, “but I can assure you I don’t need any help in that department.”
“But your Realistic is a male -“
On screen Orlando laughs and scratches distractedly at his cheek. “I don’t think I’d have trouble attracting a man if that’s my preference, do you?”
“Certainly not,” she agrees with her professional smile. “But surely you can see why the public holds the perception that they do?”
Orlando’s gaze narrows and he chews thoughtfully at his lower lip for a moment, all the while leaving Elijah to wonder why he would ever have opened himself up to this. It’s true that Orlando wouldn’t need any help attracting men or women sexually, or romantically. He must be nothing more than a novelty, just as he suspected.
“No matter what I say or do the public will always have their opinion,” Orlando says at length. “If they want to believe the worst in me then there is nothing I can say that will change that, but that was not my intention.”
“Care to clarify your intentions?” Elijah can hear the eager hope in her question, but she is not going to get what she wants.
“As I said before, my reasons are my own.”
She smiles indulgently. “It doesn’t sound like we’re going to get to the bottom of that today.”
“I have to keeps some secrets, Angie.” He drops her a little wink.
“You’ve been keeping a lot of things close to the cuff these days,” she chides. “If you won’t discuss your Realistic then perhaps you’d tell us if there is any truth to the rumor that you’re going to be starring in a film with Veronica James?”
“I haven’t made any plans yet.”
The corner of her mouth quirks wryly. “Veronica’s people have already confirmed it.”
“Well then, I guess the cat’s already out of the bag.”
“It starts filming on Halo in -” Angie, and Access Entertainment, disappear abruptly; he turns to find Orlando with his thumb on the off button.
The silence lasts but a moment before Orlando’s phone begins to ring. Orlando reaches for it, checks the display but quickly tosses it to the bedding. “I wanted to tell you about this myself.” Orlando gives him an apologetic smile.
“This is the movie your agent mentioned?” Elijah inquires politely, in an attempt to keep himself from wondering what this means for him.
Orlando nods, face serious, as he props himself up on one elbow.
“You’re taking me with you?” Elijah asks hopefully, once more only thinking of his place after the words have left his mouth. He mashes his lips together and leans forward, wrapping his arms around his bent knees.
“If -“ Once more the phone interrupts, Orlando glances at it and his irritation is plain to see judging by the annoyed set of his jaw; only when the ringing ceases does the tension disappear. Elijah has already prepared himself for the bad news.
“Sorry,” Orlando apologizes, indicating the phone.
“It’s all right.” He waits.
“If I can, Elijah. I mean, I want to. I just don’t know if it’s possible. Your credentials, your permission to travel off-world, I’ve applied but I haven’t received them yet.”
The phone begins to bleat again and Orlando exhales loudly.
“Maybe you should answer it,” Elijah suggests.
“It’s just, Max,” Orlando replies sourly, scrubbing at his cheek.
“You don’t think the papers will come in time?”
“I don’t know.” Orlando gives him an apologetic smile. “The Government is involved here, Lij; they work at their own speed, no matter how many people I shove money at.”
“But there’s still time, right? There’s still time before you have to leave?” He’s afraid of the way Orlando looks at the bedding, no eye contact means there’s something to hide or a truth to be ignored, either way it’s not in his favor. “Because ... otherwise I’ll have to stay here by myself.” Four days had been long enough, but four weeks?
”I know. I-” When the phone starts again Orlando picks it up and switches it to vibrate, cursing Max, and the fact that Max can’t take a hint, under his breath.
“Why don’t you just answer it?”
“Because,” Orlando replies through gritted teeth, “I’m not in the mood to deal with his bullshit.”
“Maybe it’s an emergency.” Elijah wishes he had altered his tone, or at least removed the sadness from it.
Orlando snorts derisively. “Oh, I’m sure Max thinks it’s an emergency, but trust me, it’s only an emergency to him, to his wallet or his good name.”
“You don’t seem to like him much. Why do you stay with him? You have a choice, right?” A freedom, he thinks, Orlando doesn’t seem to understand or value. He realizes he’s gone too far when Orlando bows his head like a scolded child. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t my place-”
“No, it’s all right. You’re right, you know.”
But Elijah wonders if that’s true when Orlando slips out of bed and dresses, pulling on a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt.
“I’d meant to cut him loose, but … plans changed.”
Elijah follows Orlando’s example, slipping out of bed to retrieve his clothes. “I really shouldn’t have said anything.”
He feels Orlando’s hands on his shoulders, then his face, tilting his chin until he’s looking into Orlando’s dark eyes. “I want you to say whatever you feel. I don’t want you to be afraid to speak your mind, even if you think I may not like it, do you understand?”
Elijah nods, but he doesn’t think he’ll make it a habit.
“That’s an order. Or a command, whatever it needs to be so that you’ll do it, yeah?” Orlando’s eyes search his. Elijah wonders if Orlando knows what he’s doing, what he’s done, and it’s not just because of the freedom he’s offered, it is so much more than that.
“Yes,” he agrees. He has no other choice. “You don’t think the papers will come before you have to leave, do you?”
Orlando shakes his head, apology apparent in his eyes again. “But we might get lucky. ‘Plan for the worst, hope for the best’, that’s what my mother always used to say.”
Elijah nods and smiles reassuringly; there’s no point in dwelling on it yet, not when they still have time to spend together. “How long does it usually take?”
“It can take up to three months for an application to be processed and permission returned, I only filed yours last week.”
“How long before you have to leave?” Elijah can tell immediately that he isn’t going to appreciate the answer, but before Orlando can reply there’s a buzz from the intercom.
“Orli? Orli, it’s Max. I know you’re home. Come on, man, I need to talk to you.” Elijah can hear the agitation in Max’s voice.
In the middle of their bedroom, Orlando stands obstinately with his arms crossed and folded against his chest.
“You can’t ignore me, I’m like the plague.”
“He’s got that right,” Elijah says softly and smiles when Orlando breaks into laughter.
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
Orli punches the button. “I’m busy.”
“You need to listen to me. I know what’s best for you. I - Listen, people are starting to stare, I don’t think you want me to be having this conversation with you like this, not unless you want to read the highly-embellished, Page 6 version.”
“He wouldn’t do that, would he?” Elijah asks incredulously.
“Well, you see,” Orlando explains with a wry twist of his lips, “he’d just say the reporters overheard his conversation; therefore it would be my fault, not his. Crafty bastard, isn’t he?” Orlando slaps the button that opens the gate and watches on the small monitor as Max climbs into his car and motors up the drive.
“Should I wait here?” Elijah asks.
“No, this place is your home now. I want you to be comfortable here.”
Elijah can hear the rap on the door as they descend the stairs. By the time they reach the foyer, Max is hammering away impatiently. He slips past as Orlando snaps the door open and into the living room.
“Patience is a virtue,” Orlando says tightly as he turns, leaving Max to trail after him or no.
“Orli … baaaby, I-” Max stops when he sees Elijah sitting on the couch and glances unsurely in Orlando’s direction.
“What’s so urgent, Max?” Orli’s voice is tight, angry.
“You weren’t answering your phone, so I - look, maybe we should talk somewhere else?”
“I can leave,” Elijah offers, seeing that Max is clearly feeling stifled by his presence. It’s nothing new.
“No,” Orli snaps at him curtly. Elijah knows the anger in Orlando’s eyes isn’t really meant for him, especially when it’s still in his eyes as he turns his gaze on Max once more. “What can I do for you?’
“Orli …” There is audible exasperation in Max’s tone, as if he’s a parent trying to deal with a spoiled child, “the movie company is freaking out about the press. They’re nervous; they don’t think it’s a good thing. They’re worried your fan base might boycott you and the movie because of-“
Elijah feels the weight of Max’s gaze.
“Don’t worry about it, Max. I’m not,” Orlando replies coolly.
“But Orli-“
“I said, don’t worry about it.”
Max runs his fingers through his hair and exhales angrily, pacing the patch of carpet between the couch and the oversized lounge chair. “I guess I don’t get you, man. Why are you ready to ruin your career over a - because of a-“
”A what, Max?”
Elijah ducks his head to shield himself against the anger and contempt in Max’s eyes.
“A robot, Orli. A fucking piece of animatronic whatever... What’s the deal exactly?”
Elijah hears Orlando snort angrily. “I know you’re worried about your bottom-line Max, or, should I say, the lining of your pockets, so, please, feel free to release me if you like.”
From beneath the fringe of his lashes Elijah can see that Max has stopped pacing, and when he ventures a further look he finds that Max is standing there with his mouth agape.
“This is your career,” Max finally sputters.
“No. This is my life. If people can’t understand that-”
“I don’t get it Orli!” Max explodes. “You can just send it back and put all this behind you.”
“You’re out of line Max.”
“They’re saying you’re a pervert.”
“Pervert?”
Elijah’s eyes slide to Orli’s face and he sees the clearly amused smile that graces Orlando’s lips.
“That’s all the rich fuckers buy them for, Orli! Everybody knows. They may say they’re ‘employing’ them but the whole world knows what they really used for.” Max’s eyes narrow and he lip curls up in a sneer. “Tell me, Orli, have you employed yours yet?”
“Get out, Max.” Orli’s voice is tight, and his face is a mask of rage.
“Orli you’re going to end up flushing your career. No movie company will want you.”
”So I suggest that you bail out now, before you have to go down on my sinking ship.” Orlando takes a few steps forward, causing Max to stumble backward.
“What? What happened, Orli? Did you bump your fucking head? Do you have a brain tumor? What the fuck’s wrong with you? You’re risking this deal with Veronica James. If you do this flick with her you’ll be set for life, your choice of movies, name your own terms - who you work with, who you won’t - the world will cater to you.”
“And whose dream is that, Max?” Orlando asks pointedly. “I’m already set, I don’t need this movie with Veronica to get what I want, I’ve already got it all. You’re the one who wants to feed off me.”
Max’s mouth works almost comically for a moment as he tries to formulate a comeback. “I’m just trying to be your friend here, warn you, help you get your fucking head on straight! The movie company for Veronica’s film may release you over this.”
“So let them. If they’re going to let me go over this then so be it.”
“You’re an idiot,” Max gasps in disbelief. “You’re a fool.”
“And you’re just worried about all the money you might lose. You’re not my friend, Max. You look at me with dollar signs in your eyes, don’t make it sound like you have my best interests at heart. We both know you’re looking out for number one.”
Elijah watches the little muscle in Max’s jaw flex and the vivid color of anger and frustration flush his face, wiping away his cool façade. “I still expect my cut.”
“Of course you do,” Orli replies bitterly. Elijah doesn’t think he sounds very surprised at all. “And I’ll see that you get it.”
Max and Orli stare at each other silently for a minute; Elijah thinks it finally settled, but apparently Max has one more dig.
“What’s going to happen when the novelty rubs off? What’s going to happen when you get bored with it, Orli? ”
“Get. The. Fuck. Out,” Orlando growls. “Go find someone else to glom off, because we’re done here, you and I.”
Elijah watches Max’s hands clench and unclench, his lips forming words again but each time Max seems to reconsider; finally he drops his hands in a gesture of defeat.
“I don’t know what to say, Orli.”
Orli’s glare suggests that nothing is the proper choice, and, for once, Max gets it right. He simply turns on his heel and lets himself out.
“What a fucking asshole,” Orlando breathes in the quiet after Max’s exit. “I thought … I thought acting would be fun, exciting, you know? But they all just want a piece of you. It’s all about what you can do for them, how rich you can make them, and if you threaten that … You can’t even live your own life.”
Elijah nods, he knows what it’s like not to be able to live for yourself, but he can’t admit that. Max’s question echoes in his head, ‘What’s going to happen when you get bored with it’?
“You should, you know,” Elijah says quietly.
“Should what?” Orli snaps, eyes still angry.
“Send me back.”
“What?”
“I’m too much trouble.” He doesn’t want to be responsible for the downfall of Orlando’s career, to be hated and resented in the end. He doesn’t want Orlando to look at him the way all the others have.
“You’re not the trouble, everyone else is,” Orlando huffs. Elijah watches as he adopts Max’s earlier behavior, pacing the same stretch of carpet between the couch and chair.
The only thing that makes him stop is the ringing of the phone.
He watches Orlando retrieve the handset beside the couch and shake his head at the display. “It’s him?”
Orlando nods as he flicks off the ringer. “How much do you want to bet that he’s leaving an apology? It’s too risky, you see, to walk away from such a cash cow.”
Elijah hurts for Orlando, for this revelation and for the fact that he is the reason for it. “Why would you throw your career away for me?”
Orlando stops pacing. “I’m not throwing away anything. Max is… Max is a greedy asshole.”
Elijah nods, he wouldn’t disagree with that, but he also thinks that Max is right. What will happen when Orli loses everything because of him? What happens when Orli inevitably gets bored?
Elijah knows. He knows exactly what happens. He gets returned, sent back to the Company for erasure and a new owner. The thought of it hurts him somewhere deep inside, but that is nothing a technician can fix.
“You don’t need me,” Elijah whispers. “You can have anyone you want.”
Orlando looks at him, frown furrowing his brows. “That’s not true. Why would you say that?”
Elijah feels a nervous buzz in the tips of his fingers, he is ruining the illusion of being an obedient robot, but why wait another day, or week, or year before Orli comes to the realization that spending his life with a Realistic isn’t what he wants after all? He can already feel himself becoming attached to Orlando, and he knows … he knows all too well the pain that comes after. Better to sever the ties now, perhaps knowing that he has spared Orli’s career would help.
“I’m not worth everything you have,” Elijah answers as honestly as he can without revealing the truth to Orlando. If Orli asks him any more pointed questions, any more ‘whys’ he might be forced into revealing the truth, his secrets, everything.
“Elijah, you’ve no idea what I consider ‘everything’ anymore. These people, they’re like vultures, they only exist to pick you clean -” Orlando stops abruptly and looks at the phone in his hand. Elijah assumes it must be vibrating, and judging from the look on Orlando’s face, it’s Max again.
Elijah blinks, stunned, as Orlando whips the innocent piece of plastic against the wall before stalking, wordlessly, out of the room. He stands and stares at the chipped paint on the wall and the shards of phone on the floor. He nearly revealed everything to Orlando. If the phone hadn’t rung Orlando might’ve probed deeper and then what?
He stoops to pick up the remains of the phone, gathering the tiny fragments in the cup of his palm. This is a mess that he can deal with, one that might not end with destructive revelations and a trip back to the Company, even if that might be best.
*
He is trying to pick out the splinters of plastic stuck between the baseboard and carpeting, the ones the vacuum didn’t get, when he hears the buzz of the intercom. He ignores it, assuming Orlando will answer it.
“Orli,” Tara’s soft voice pleads from the speaker in the empty foyer, “let me in. Please?”
Elijah rises, and walks to the monitor. He glances up the stairs, but there is no sign of Orlando. Of course he knows which one to push to admit her, he just doesn’t know if he should or not.
“Orli, please?” Elijah watches as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and turns to shield herself from the figures looming in the background. “Max is … look I can’t really say, you’ve got stalkers down here, please, just let me in.”
Elijah can’t, and won’t, leave her standing at the end of the drive. Orlando said this house is his, and he should feel comfortable here, so he puts his finger on the button for the gate and presses.
She looks relieved as she hears the noise and slips into her car. He watches the onlookers glance curiously through the gate, some of them have cameras and snap pictures before the gate closes.
“Oh.” Tara says when she finds it’s him waiting the entryway. She gives him a gentle, but still uncertain smile as she lays her purse on the small table. “How are you, Elijah?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” He gives her a polite smile in return. “How are you?”
“I’m … I don’t know.” Her unsure smile doesn’t change. “Is Orli here? I tried to reach him on the phone.”
He trails after her as she walks familiarly into the kitchen and watches as she picks up what remains of the phone. He realizes he still has bits of plastic in his hand and brushes them into the trash.
“What happened?”
“Max happened.” Orlando’s voice comes from the stairwell; it makes Tara jump.
Tara sighs sadly. Elijah startles when he feels her hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze that he doesn’t really understand. He looks at her; the touch is nice, it appears to be without demand. Is it supposed to be friendly? No one ever touches him without wanting something, but he notices, when Orlando finally enters the kitchen, that she repeats the gesture with him as well.
“I can only imagine what that was like,” she says softly, apologetically. “I warned you about him.” She smiles at Orlando over her shoulder as she turns to the fridge and helps herself to a bottle of water.
“I let her in,” Elijah explains when he notices Orlando looking at him. “I hope you don’t mind?”
Orlando shakes his head and Elijah feels relieved. “What are you doing here?” Orlando asks her. “It’s your day off.”
She leans against the counter and grins at Orlando, giving him a little shrug. “Well, Max called me with his panties in a wad. Says you’re out of your mind among other things.”
Orlando lifts his chin and folds his arms across his chest defiantly.
“I’m not saying I agree with him, not after the talk you and I had,” Tara gives Orlando a meaningful look, “but I did see the interview today. There was a reason I wanted to be there when you did the interview. I wanted to avoid something like this.”
Orlando shrugs. “If I didn’t speak for myself they would just make something up.”
“Max brought up the words ‘career suicide’.” Her smile is something Elijah can’t read, he’s not sure if it is born of amusement or concern.
“Come on, Tara,” Orli replies softly, “you know that isn’t true. They’ll talk about it today, for a few weeks, and then it will all disappear into the ether. Another scandal will erupt and everyone will move on. That’s how it goes, isn’t it?”
Tara nods, but it’s obviously reluctant. “That could happen, yes, but … it’s just that, well, this is one of those hot button topics. It could really be a problem-“
“I don’t care, Tara. I’m sick of having to live by everyone else’s standards.”
“Then you should’ve thought about that before you put yourself in the public eye.” Her response is only slightly scolding, they type of honest admonition that happens, and is allowed, between close friends. “I’m sorry, I wish it was different but you know that’s human nature, especially when you’re in the public eye. People live to judge you, your talent and your personal life.”
“I wasn’t thinking about that. I just thought that doing a movie sounded like fun.”
Tara smiles. “I know. I remember.” This causes Orli to grin too, happily, it seems to Elijah, no doubt based on something they shared; he would love to know about it but now doesn’t seem the time, perhaps later he will get the chance to ask.
“Well,” she says, slowly rolling the bottle between her hands, “as your personal assistant and PR person, I’ve been thinking about how we can deal with this, and I have an idea if you want to hear it?”
“Do I want to hear it?” Orlando asks thoughtfully.
“You practically came up with the answer yourself.” She spins the cap off the bottle and takes a sip.
“I did?”
She nods. “You said it yourself, the public is easily distracted by the next big thing.”
Orlando looks at her warily. “What’s going on in that devious little brain of yours?”
She grins, something wicked and shark-like, something Elijah thinks Max would appreciate. “I’m saying that we offer them something even more scandalous, something that will make them forget all about Elijah.”
Elijah watches Orli’s brows arch, but there’s a teasing smile on Orlando’s lips now, one he’s glad to see. “I’m afraid.”
She laughs at him. “Oh, you should be.” She winks at him. “This is, well, it is a gossip’s wet-dream, if I do say so myself.” She blows on her nails and rubs them against her shirt.
“Now I really am frightened.” Orlando takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, resting his palms against the counter as if for support. “So … spill it before the curiosity kills me.”
“Right.” She nods, and Elijah feels a flutter of nerves himself when her gaze flicks to his before returning to Orli once again. “I know you can pull this off. I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think you could, Orli.”
Orli’s groan has a decided undercurrent of dread.
“Well, see, Veronica always gets into her roles. I mean really into her roles.” Tara twists the cap of the water bottle off and on, off and on. “She’s known to fall for her love interests in the film, and she loves to kiss and tell.”
Elijah can see where she’s going with this, her scheme is predictable. He gives Orli a sidelong glance, trying to read his reaction, but Orli’s face gives away nothing.
“So, you get on set,” she continues, her eyes never leaving Orlando’s face and Elijah’s sure she’s trying to get his reaction as well, “you get to know each other, you start … canoodling.” Tara pauses but only for a moment and spills the rest of her plan in a rush, as if she’s afraid Orlando will stop her before she can tell him the rest. “All you have to do is make sure the paparazzi catch you in action once or twice. She will kiss and tell, and tell, and tell, whether it’s true or not. She lives for this kind of attention, see? And then the media will have something juicy to sink their teeth into. They would love to hate to see you two together. It’s perfect.”
The kitchen is silent for a minute as Orlando stands, still braced against the counter, in quiet consideration of her plan. “I don’t want to fake a relationship, Tara.”
“But… you won’t have to for long, because that isn’t really the big scandal.”
“It’s not?”
Tara shakes her head. “No. I think the media would be on to it, they’d say that you were just using Veronica as a beard, so,” she licks her lips and gives Orli a nervous looking smile, “it would be the rumor that you’re seeing her assistant, too, that would make the real scandal. It’s her sister, you see.”
Orli’s eyes widen. “You want me to do what?”
“I just want you to make it seem like you’re seeing them both, just enough to make it seem like you are trying to have your cake and eat it too.”
Orli huffs and scrubs at his eyes. “And this would be good for me how?”
“Are you kidding me? It’s perfect. It’s so bad that it’s good. They might not fall for you being with Veronica but when you’re caught playing the sister too? Well, that’s something they won’t be able to help but lap up.”
“But they wouldn’t be in on it, would they?”
“No, it wouldn’t work if they were.”
“But … I don’t want to hurt anyone, Tara. I don’t want to use them.”
Her shoulders shrug as she slips around the counter to stand next to Orlando; Elijah watches as she reaches out and rests her chin on his shoulder. “I understand that, Orli. I know there will be some name calling and general besmirching of your reputation; I’m know there will be some fallout but the point is this, they will have forgotten all about Elijah.”
Orli tilts his face, resting his cheek against her head. “You really are a mental case. You know that?”
Tara only smiles. “That’s what you pay me the big bucks for.”
“How do you even know this plan of yours would work? Veronica could always turn me down.”
“Please.” Tara rolls her eyes. “She won’t.”
“And her sister, you’re so sure about her too?”
“Mmhmm. If you ever listened to the gossip you’d know that she’s jealous of Veronica, that she wants what her sister has; it would surprise no one if she hooked up with you just to spite her sister.”
“Tara … I know you mean well, but I don’t want to be responsible for ruining their relationship.”
“But if we play it right, it will be nothing more than incorrect presumptions. The media thrives on such things, Orli.” She pulls back to look at him. “You kiss Veronica, nothing more than what you’d do on the set, and the media will automatically jump to the conclusion that you’re dating. You use your charm on the little sister, you maybe make her think something more is possible, and Veronica just happens to find out about it and it’s an instant scandal. You excuse yourself from both of them on the grounds that you don’t want to cause trouble between them, they’ll realize they made a mountain out of a molehill and the media will have the new scandal of the moment. In the end that’s what they’ll remember because it’s just they type of thing they want.”
It all sounds like a very elaborate plan to Elijah, one no more stable than a house of cards, one that could be solved by simply sending him away; he doesn’t understand why Orlando simply doesn’t chose the easier option and send him away.
“I don’t know,” Orli sighs. “It’s a good plan,” he grins at her, “if my career really goes down the tubes you can always go do spin for the government-they’d love you.”
“It’s up to you. I could never make you do anything you don’t want to do. Stubborn.” She tweaks Orli’s nose and does a double-take at her wristwatch. “Shit! I’ve got to run. I’m going to be late! Ron and I are supposed to be picking up stuff for our engagement party. You didn’t forget, right? Thursday night?”
“Oh.” The sound of that ‘oh’ makes Elijah wonder. “Yes, definitely,” Orli nods.
“You’d better bone up on those acting skills, you liar!” Tara teases as she rushes to grab her purse. “Just think about what I said, okay?”
Orlando nods.
“That’s all I can ask.” She comes back to drop a kiss on Orli’s cheek. Elijah is surprised when she comes around the counter to do the same to him. “Elijah, the party is Thursday night. Seven sharp, my house. Orli has the direction but he’s terrible at being on time, you’ll make sure he’s on time, right?”
“Yes,” Elijah smiles.
“Good,” she returns it. “I expect to see you both there.”
tbc …