Resurrection of Hope
Title: Resurrection of Hope
Author: cherimorton
Summary: Ville meets a new hope
Disclaimer: I own the Ville in the story. I'm not deserving of his real person.
"How about you come eat with us?" Mige asked.
"No, I just want to lie down for a bit," Ville answered.
"You always just want to lie down for a bit. Do you eat?" Mige argued.
"Yes, I eat. Silke has food delivered to me," Ville said bitingly, "Besides, you like to eat in bars. In case you haven't noticed, I don't go to bars anymore."
Mige rolled his eyes, exasperated, "Yes, I have noticed. You were much more fun back then," then remorse covered his face.
Ville didn't answer, just simply turned and walked out into the bright LA sun and turned towards his hotel. "What the fuck?" Ville thought to himself, feeling irritable. He continued his scathing thoughts for the rest of the short walk to his temporary home. "What the hell does he know? If I were still drinking... I'd be dead. No, I'm not as much fun as I used to be. But the longer I stay isolated, the better. I don't need people around anymore than they have to be." He'd reached his hotel lobby and stepped on the elevator, vaguely noticing the two women who'd apparently just checked in, as their bags were on the trolley held in place by the door man. A cell phone interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up, into the reflection in the closed doors and grinned slightly as he recognized what the tone was- Special Ed, from Crank Yankers, saying "Yay! I got a phone call! Yay!" and watched the woman reach for her bag, trying to hold back laughter. She looked at the number, and Ville could see her smile wiped away instantly as she visibly paled. The woman next to her said, "What?" before the phone in question was tossed to her, it's owner saying, "Quick, before it goes to voicemail," and leaning heavily against the elevator wall. "Hello?" Ville heard the other woman ask, "No, you have the wrong number. I don't know; I've had this phone for six months. You called me. How would I know who you are? Well, that's rude for someone who called a wrong number," and saw the girl push a button, ending the call. "You ok?" he saw her ask the other woman. Looking grim, the woman said, "No. I don't know how he got it. I've had it changed four times in the last month. How in the world..." she was interrupted by the ding of the elevator, and looked down at the card key in her hand. "This is us. Let's get settled in." Ville got off too, since it was also his floor and started walking down the hall. He could hear the women talking, the still pale faced one saying, "No, we'll get that one," then a few seconds later, "Amy, can we not drag $15,000 down a hotel hallway?" in a good natured but firm tone. "It's heavy," Amy, the one with the bag, whined. "Ok, here. You take these two, and I'll get this one."
"Should I be worried that your smallest bag is the one with your clothes in it? Are you going to have to work naked for a week?" Amy said teasingly.
"Ha, no. Who worries about clothes when you're shooting people?" Ville had to chuckle, he could still hear the women and the bellboy (whose only noise was the wheels rolling down the carpet) behind him. He stopped at his door, and glanced at the three people passing him by. The still unidentified woman had her color back and a small smile curved her lips as she looked at her friend, and then glanced at Ville. She flashed a wider smile in greeting, then turned back to the bellboy, saying something about accepting gum for his tip.
Chuckling at the woman's comment, he opened his door and fell out on the bed, content for the quiet and remembering the deep auburn of the unidentified woman's hair. "Odd," he thought, then rolled over and let sleep consume him.
He was awakened by harsh pounding on his door, and "Willa! Answer the damn door!” He groaned and looked at the clock next to his bed. He'd been asleep for three hours, forgetting that Bam was supposed to fly in that night. He grumpily shoved himself off the bed and went to the door, opening it and letting his friend fly into the room, heading straight for the rumpled bed and proceeding to jump on it like a trampoline. "Hey Willa!" Bam said, becoming winded as Ville lit a cigarette. "Were you asleep?" Bam asked. Yawning his affirmation, Ville said "Yeah," his voice hoarse from sleep and use. "Well, wake the hell up. Let's go get pizza... or not," Bam said, seeing Ville's disapproving face, nose wrinkled. "Yuck," he said, "I'd prefer the box it comes in." Bam stopped his jumping and considered food options. "Hm," he said, rubbing his chin, "Thai." Ville didn't want to go anywhere, and he knew that Bam knew that, but he sighed and said "Ok," reaching for his shoes.
They took a cab to Bam's favorite LA Thai restaurant and were seated in a quiet booth near the back. "So, the new album is going good?" Bam said.
"Yeah, it really is. At least I think so. We've gotten the percussion done, and the bass started. Gas went home this morning to see Ilena. She's nine months now. Curly hair. So we think either Gas had curly hair when he was young and still had hair, or Ilena isn't his," Ville said, eliciting a laugh from Bam.
"You know she is; Mariana doesn't have eyes for anyone else," Bam said, laughter still in his eyes. They ate at a leisurely pace, Bam knowing that Ville needed to come out of his hole even just for a little bit, and drew out the dinner for two hours. Luckily, this particular restaurant was not well known and dimly lit, so they were only interrupted once by a fan. Ville smiled as he signed the boy's t-shirt, and Bam and Ville got up to leave the restaurant before the boy could run and tell his friends who he'd seen.
Bam was never one to just sit around and do nothing, so he dropped Ville off at the door of his hotel on his way to visit Kat and Nikki. They'd planned to go out, but hadn't decided where, and Ville knew "going out" for Bam meant drunken stupor. Even after two and a half years, it was still hard for Ville to be around any drunken person, let alone his close friends when they were drunk. The one time Bam convinced him to go to a party since he'd been sober Ville had gotten freaked out and claustrophobic with all the naked and half naked girls in the dimly lit basement of the hotel, and left in quite a hurry. He liked his hermitage; it saved him from drinking and stumbling across people, namely women, who could very easily snap what was left of his heart in two. Bam knew Ville wouldn't go, but asked anyway. "Well, dude, if you change your mind, you know where we are. Oh, wait... well; you know how to find me. Just follow the path of destruction!" and Ville chuckled to himself, entering the elevator for the fourth time that day. It was a record.
Once back in the safe confines of his room, Ville was struck by the sudden urge to paint. He searched through his bags, cursing himself for not having canvas, and settled for his sketchbook and charcoal pencils. In less than 20 minutes, there was charcoal smeared over the page and between his fingers. He studied what he'd done thus far, mildly surprised to find a face in the abstract drawing. He didn't recognize the face, and wasn't thinking about anyone when he drew, so he honestly had no clue as to who the person was or where they came from. Shrugging, he flipped to a new page, satisfied with leaving the drawing that way, and instead fiddled around with ideas for the album cover. Content with his activities, that's how he spent the rest of his evening.
He woke up the next morning, trying to will his limbs to work so he could get to his coffee place. Opening his door, he heard someone call down the hallway, "And that's why you're not on my regular payroll. Worst. Assitant. Ever." and a giggle. He stepped out of the door way, and before the door could close behind him, he felt someone crash into him. He was stunned, not because of pain or surprise, but more because of the electricity coursing through his long- dormant body. Looking down, he saw the top of the unidentified woman's head as she said with her eyes closed and slightly cringing, "Who did I just run into?" Ville chuckled and said, "Don't worry, sweetheart, it's just Ville Valo." She opened her eyes, rolling them, and said, "Thank Ozzy. A nice person. Evidently I invaded Justin Timberlake's 10 foot bubble last night. You'd have thought he was carrying the Hope Diamond in his ass or something." Ville laughed out loud at this as she turned and looked up at him, shocking him again with the dark blue of her eyes. "I'm really sorry. Are you ok? I know my elbows can be a little pointy sometimes," she said apologetically. "I'm alright. Are you?" Ville said.
"Oh, I'm basically indestructible," she said with a dismissive wave of her small hand, "It's sort of an immunity you build up when you spend your life introducing your face to various walls," laughing. Ville laughed again, appreciating her humor. "So, you know who I am, but I have no idea who just ran me over in front of my hotel room," Ville said, still grinning. The woman stuck out her hand, smile lighting her whole face, "Charli. Tyson. Nice to run into you, Mr. Valo."
"Charli Tyson? As in Charlotte Tyson? The photographer?"
Charli blushed and looked at the floor, "Yeah, that's me..."
"You're an amazing photographer. I've seen your 'Germany' exhibit... It's beautiful. It captured more than just what the tourists see..." Ville trailed off, realizing that he was semi- gushing. He did enjoy her work, though, and wanted to tell her.
They were interrupted when Ville's phone buzzed in his pocket. Reaching for it, he motioned Charli to walk with him. She followed, needing to get to the elevator herself.
"Hei," he said to Seppo.
"Ville, you don't have time to stop for coffee now. Silke has it for you and we need to meet with the execs this morning," Seppo said, "You need to be here in four and a half minutes."
"Damn. Alright," sighing, he closed the phone as he and Charli waited for the elevator.
"Rough morning?" she said, looking at him, understanding.
"Yeah. Haven't got my coffee, and now I don't have time to stop."
Charli hung her head looked at the floor again, "Sorry..."
Ville chuckled and said, "It's not your fault, darling, I woke up late." as they got on the elevator.
"But you could have gotten your coffee by now if I hadn't run you over."
"Eh, I preferred running into you anyway. Besides, my publicist will have it for me," Ville said with a reassuring smile.
"Ah, yes. To have people on a payroll," Charli said wistfully.
Curious, Ville said, "You don't have an assistant?"
"Well, I do, but my regular one is on maternity leave, and the temporary one I have doesn't really know how to assist. She's a good friend of mine who was in need of a vacation, so I kidnapped her under the guise of needing her to assist me. So, she's not an assistant. Hence the reason these hands do not have an obscenely large cup of coffee in them," Charli said, opening her empty hands to prove her point.
Ville laughed as they arrived at the entrance to the hotel. Looking up at him, she said, "Have a wonderful day; I hope your coffee is bigger than mine was this morning," referring to her complete lack of caffeine. He held the door open for her, and smiling again, said, "I hope you have a wonderful day too. Watch out for walls and celebrities carrying jewels in their asses."
Charli laughed and started walking the other direction, waving to him.
comments?
Author: cherimorton
Summary: Ville meets a new hope
Disclaimer: I own the Ville in the story. I'm not deserving of his real person.
"How about you come eat with us?" Mige asked.
"No, I just want to lie down for a bit," Ville answered.
"You always just want to lie down for a bit. Do you eat?" Mige argued.
"Yes, I eat. Silke has food delivered to me," Ville said bitingly, "Besides, you like to eat in bars. In case you haven't noticed, I don't go to bars anymore."
Mige rolled his eyes, exasperated, "Yes, I have noticed. You were much more fun back then," then remorse covered his face.
Ville didn't answer, just simply turned and walked out into the bright LA sun and turned towards his hotel. "What the fuck?" Ville thought to himself, feeling irritable. He continued his scathing thoughts for the rest of the short walk to his temporary home. "What the hell does he know? If I were still drinking... I'd be dead. No, I'm not as much fun as I used to be. But the longer I stay isolated, the better. I don't need people around anymore than they have to be." He'd reached his hotel lobby and stepped on the elevator, vaguely noticing the two women who'd apparently just checked in, as their bags were on the trolley held in place by the door man. A cell phone interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up, into the reflection in the closed doors and grinned slightly as he recognized what the tone was- Special Ed, from Crank Yankers, saying "Yay! I got a phone call! Yay!" and watched the woman reach for her bag, trying to hold back laughter. She looked at the number, and Ville could see her smile wiped away instantly as she visibly paled. The woman next to her said, "What?" before the phone in question was tossed to her, it's owner saying, "Quick, before it goes to voicemail," and leaning heavily against the elevator wall. "Hello?" Ville heard the other woman ask, "No, you have the wrong number. I don't know; I've had this phone for six months. You called me. How would I know who you are? Well, that's rude for someone who called a wrong number," and saw the girl push a button, ending the call. "You ok?" he saw her ask the other woman. Looking grim, the woman said, "No. I don't know how he got it. I've had it changed four times in the last month. How in the world..." she was interrupted by the ding of the elevator, and looked down at the card key in her hand. "This is us. Let's get settled in." Ville got off too, since it was also his floor and started walking down the hall. He could hear the women talking, the still pale faced one saying, "No, we'll get that one," then a few seconds later, "Amy, can we not drag $15,000 down a hotel hallway?" in a good natured but firm tone. "It's heavy," Amy, the one with the bag, whined. "Ok, here. You take these two, and I'll get this one."
"Should I be worried that your smallest bag is the one with your clothes in it? Are you going to have to work naked for a week?" Amy said teasingly.
"Ha, no. Who worries about clothes when you're shooting people?" Ville had to chuckle, he could still hear the women and the bellboy (whose only noise was the wheels rolling down the carpet) behind him. He stopped at his door, and glanced at the three people passing him by. The still unidentified woman had her color back and a small smile curved her lips as she looked at her friend, and then glanced at Ville. She flashed a wider smile in greeting, then turned back to the bellboy, saying something about accepting gum for his tip.
Chuckling at the woman's comment, he opened his door and fell out on the bed, content for the quiet and remembering the deep auburn of the unidentified woman's hair. "Odd," he thought, then rolled over and let sleep consume him.
He was awakened by harsh pounding on his door, and "Willa! Answer the damn door!” He groaned and looked at the clock next to his bed. He'd been asleep for three hours, forgetting that Bam was supposed to fly in that night. He grumpily shoved himself off the bed and went to the door, opening it and letting his friend fly into the room, heading straight for the rumpled bed and proceeding to jump on it like a trampoline. "Hey Willa!" Bam said, becoming winded as Ville lit a cigarette. "Were you asleep?" Bam asked. Yawning his affirmation, Ville said "Yeah," his voice hoarse from sleep and use. "Well, wake the hell up. Let's go get pizza... or not," Bam said, seeing Ville's disapproving face, nose wrinkled. "Yuck," he said, "I'd prefer the box it comes in." Bam stopped his jumping and considered food options. "Hm," he said, rubbing his chin, "Thai." Ville didn't want to go anywhere, and he knew that Bam knew that, but he sighed and said "Ok," reaching for his shoes.
They took a cab to Bam's favorite LA Thai restaurant and were seated in a quiet booth near the back. "So, the new album is going good?" Bam said.
"Yeah, it really is. At least I think so. We've gotten the percussion done, and the bass started. Gas went home this morning to see Ilena. She's nine months now. Curly hair. So we think either Gas had curly hair when he was young and still had hair, or Ilena isn't his," Ville said, eliciting a laugh from Bam.
"You know she is; Mariana doesn't have eyes for anyone else," Bam said, laughter still in his eyes. They ate at a leisurely pace, Bam knowing that Ville needed to come out of his hole even just for a little bit, and drew out the dinner for two hours. Luckily, this particular restaurant was not well known and dimly lit, so they were only interrupted once by a fan. Ville smiled as he signed the boy's t-shirt, and Bam and Ville got up to leave the restaurant before the boy could run and tell his friends who he'd seen.
Bam was never one to just sit around and do nothing, so he dropped Ville off at the door of his hotel on his way to visit Kat and Nikki. They'd planned to go out, but hadn't decided where, and Ville knew "going out" for Bam meant drunken stupor. Even after two and a half years, it was still hard for Ville to be around any drunken person, let alone his close friends when they were drunk. The one time Bam convinced him to go to a party since he'd been sober Ville had gotten freaked out and claustrophobic with all the naked and half naked girls in the dimly lit basement of the hotel, and left in quite a hurry. He liked his hermitage; it saved him from drinking and stumbling across people, namely women, who could very easily snap what was left of his heart in two. Bam knew Ville wouldn't go, but asked anyway. "Well, dude, if you change your mind, you know where we are. Oh, wait... well; you know how to find me. Just follow the path of destruction!" and Ville chuckled to himself, entering the elevator for the fourth time that day. It was a record.
Once back in the safe confines of his room, Ville was struck by the sudden urge to paint. He searched through his bags, cursing himself for not having canvas, and settled for his sketchbook and charcoal pencils. In less than 20 minutes, there was charcoal smeared over the page and between his fingers. He studied what he'd done thus far, mildly surprised to find a face in the abstract drawing. He didn't recognize the face, and wasn't thinking about anyone when he drew, so he honestly had no clue as to who the person was or where they came from. Shrugging, he flipped to a new page, satisfied with leaving the drawing that way, and instead fiddled around with ideas for the album cover. Content with his activities, that's how he spent the rest of his evening.
He woke up the next morning, trying to will his limbs to work so he could get to his coffee place. Opening his door, he heard someone call down the hallway, "And that's why you're not on my regular payroll. Worst. Assitant. Ever." and a giggle. He stepped out of the door way, and before the door could close behind him, he felt someone crash into him. He was stunned, not because of pain or surprise, but more because of the electricity coursing through his long- dormant body. Looking down, he saw the top of the unidentified woman's head as she said with her eyes closed and slightly cringing, "Who did I just run into?" Ville chuckled and said, "Don't worry, sweetheart, it's just Ville Valo." She opened her eyes, rolling them, and said, "Thank Ozzy. A nice person. Evidently I invaded Justin Timberlake's 10 foot bubble last night. You'd have thought he was carrying the Hope Diamond in his ass or something." Ville laughed out loud at this as she turned and looked up at him, shocking him again with the dark blue of her eyes. "I'm really sorry. Are you ok? I know my elbows can be a little pointy sometimes," she said apologetically. "I'm alright. Are you?" Ville said.
"Oh, I'm basically indestructible," she said with a dismissive wave of her small hand, "It's sort of an immunity you build up when you spend your life introducing your face to various walls," laughing. Ville laughed again, appreciating her humor. "So, you know who I am, but I have no idea who just ran me over in front of my hotel room," Ville said, still grinning. The woman stuck out her hand, smile lighting her whole face, "Charli. Tyson. Nice to run into you, Mr. Valo."
"Charli Tyson? As in Charlotte Tyson? The photographer?"
Charli blushed and looked at the floor, "Yeah, that's me..."
"You're an amazing photographer. I've seen your 'Germany' exhibit... It's beautiful. It captured more than just what the tourists see..." Ville trailed off, realizing that he was semi- gushing. He did enjoy her work, though, and wanted to tell her.
They were interrupted when Ville's phone buzzed in his pocket. Reaching for it, he motioned Charli to walk with him. She followed, needing to get to the elevator herself.
"Hei," he said to Seppo.
"Ville, you don't have time to stop for coffee now. Silke has it for you and we need to meet with the execs this morning," Seppo said, "You need to be here in four and a half minutes."
"Damn. Alright," sighing, he closed the phone as he and Charli waited for the elevator.
"Rough morning?" she said, looking at him, understanding.
"Yeah. Haven't got my coffee, and now I don't have time to stop."
Charli hung her head looked at the floor again, "Sorry..."
Ville chuckled and said, "It's not your fault, darling, I woke up late." as they got on the elevator.
"But you could have gotten your coffee by now if I hadn't run you over."
"Eh, I preferred running into you anyway. Besides, my publicist will have it for me," Ville said with a reassuring smile.
"Ah, yes. To have people on a payroll," Charli said wistfully.
Curious, Ville said, "You don't have an assistant?"
"Well, I do, but my regular one is on maternity leave, and the temporary one I have doesn't really know how to assist. She's a good friend of mine who was in need of a vacation, so I kidnapped her under the guise of needing her to assist me. So, she's not an assistant. Hence the reason these hands do not have an obscenely large cup of coffee in them," Charli said, opening her empty hands to prove her point.
Ville laughed as they arrived at the entrance to the hotel. Looking up at him, she said, "Have a wonderful day; I hope your coffee is bigger than mine was this morning," referring to her complete lack of caffeine. He held the door open for her, and smiling again, said, "I hope you have a wonderful day too. Watch out for walls and celebrities carrying jewels in their asses."
Charli laughed and started walking the other direction, waving to him.
comments?