Last night was a feckin' bit of alright
. Didn't feckin' start out that way, since I had feckin' June Dicaprio up me arse for the first half, feckin' natterin' on like he's feckin' Paris Hilton in a confessional. Jaysus, I feckin' hate people that won't shut it and insist
on gabberin' on all the livelong day about nothin' but themselves
And then there's the tiny bleedin' fact that I couldn't get a feckin' glace from Himself, the feckin' producer, who wasn't for anythin' but arguing with his half-bright little brother. Finally had to go feckin' cut in on 'em to get some attention. And then the bastard drags me out of the pub and feckin' threatens to put me out on the side of the feckin' tarmac if I don't tell him what the feck was up last night. Jaysus, I can go home and get treated like shit in Dublin
and get a decent feckin' pint afterward to make up for it. Feckin' Americans.
But then we ended up at a feckin' hotel, where Himself was treated to the wrath of yer lad Jonny, leadin' to me finally getting his arse back in bed again. Didn't feckin' run home this time, either. And then, this mornin' I invited him to dinner at Jude's. Which reminds me, feckin' better call Jude and tell him.
*lights up his tenth cigarette of the morning and dials Jude's number*
You know what?
*rifles through her closet, snatching the skimpiest dress she owns off its hanger and wiggling into it, before grabbing a tiny handbag and a pair of strappy shoes*
Caleb's been driving me mad watching me all the time, just waiting for me to do something, asking me all sorts of bloody questions. Oh, but this morning? I woke up to find him packing my bags for me. Bastard. He said that he had to go back and that he couldn't just leave me here and that he was taking me with him.
*quickly applies lipstick and eyeliner, deciding not bother with fixing her hair*
Naturally, I've kicked him out.
*arranges her pillows on her bed and throws the blankets over them so that it looks like she's under the covers, just in case Ian decided to check in on her again*
Caleb says he's going to tell on me. He says I should come home to be with him and our mum and dad. He says I shouldn't be alone. But I am alone. I've been alone for quite a fucking while now. No point in getting used to having them around me when I'm just going to have to come back. England's not home anymore. This is.
*grabs her handbag and her shoes, and then quietly sneaks out of her bedroom window rather than risk coming across Ian and having to face the subsequent interrogation*
But I've decided that since I have to be here, I don't have to be here all by myself. I'm fucking young and rich and famous and there are plenty of people out there who would like to be with me. In every sense. So I've decided that I'm just going to start giving people what they want. They get me, and I get to not be by myself. And it's time to start acting my bloody age, anyway. I need to be twenty-one. I need to be partying and dabbling in illicit substances and having all sorts of drunken, anonymous sex. I live in L.A., for Christ's sake. It's time I explore the seedier side of things for once.
*holds her handbag between her teeth and clutches her shoes in one hand, as she climbs down the trellis on the side of the house, jumping off halfway down and falling on her ass*
*lies back in the grass and laughs, then picks herself up, slips her shoes on, and sprints over to her car, looking back to see if Ian's caught her and grinning when she realizes she's managed to elude him*
In fact, that sounds like as good a plan as any. Besides, Mikey's trampoline is just sitting back there ignored, and we just can't have that now, can we?
*jumps in her car, starts the ignition and peels off in the direction of the nearest fucking club, fully intent on finding someone or taking something that will keep her mind off of everything else*
*glowers at everything in SIGHT during the cab ride to Jude's, fucking pissed off and very, very drunk, extremely glad to be out of the club*
*jumps out of the cab, throwing money at the driver, swaying impatiently until he gets through Jude's security gate, then going up to the door and pounding on it*
*sighs, getting out of his SUV outside the Troubadour*
Hayds called me and asked me to meet him here tonight. Alone
. He wouldn't tell me why, but I'm not exactly an idiot. I know he's up to something. I've been taking care of Hayds since he was just a little shit. I know
when he's being deceptive.
I don't have any clue what he's up to, but he's up to something, and after our last talk, when we fought about Reese
, I'm pretty fucking sure it has something to do with her. He has this idea that I would help Reese take Ryan's kids, which I fucking wouldn't
do. Fucking with Ryan is one thing- the little shit took Hayds from me- but screwing with innocent kids, is something completely different.
*rubs the back of his neck* And the fucking truth is? I don't know what the fuck
I'm doing with Reese anymore. Shit
*hands his keys to the valet and walks into the club, seeing Hayden almost immediately, and walking up to his table*
Hey, baby brother.
Clearly, I'm going to have to have a talk with the security company. Bloody vandals destroyed one of my flowerbeds while I was gone.
I shall insist on seeing the tapes, darlings, as this sort of thing is completely unacceptable. I sent Leo away yesterday
, and while I simply hated to break his heart in that manner, it was, I admit, the right thing to do. He's apparently gone off to stay with Jonny, and I bloody well refuse to go to hospital and identify any hypothetical mutilated corpses that may arise from that situation. I have a weak stomach, darlings. I'm simply not cut out for blood and gore. I suppose I shall have to trust Jonny not to... never mind. I won't even finish that rather ridiculous train of thought.
Jonny and Leo, along with Ryan and the tw- er, Hayden, have apparently come up with some ridiculous scheme to make Hayden's brother jealous, in the hopes, I presume, of having him drag Jonny off to bed, speaking of mutilated corpses. I've no idea why I'm the only reasonable person of my acquaintance, darlings. Doesn't anyone but me realize that it's a bloody terrible idea to antagonize a Neanderthal? Nevertheless, I, being generous, have offered to babysit Ryan this evening. He's coming over, along with his children, to stay with Michael and I while the tw- er, Hayden, drags his brother off to some manky club to watch Leo and Jonny perform a mating dance. I realize that they're actors, darlings, but, since they hate
each other, I'm quite afraid that no one will be winning any Oscars tonight. I shall leave strict instructions, the next time I'm forced to leave the country, that no one come up with ridiculous schemes in my absence.
The upside to all this is that my pet is home, finally, with me, safe and sleeping in my bed, where he ought to be. Ewan still has all of his things, not that he had a great deal to begin with, so he and I are going shopping today, and, hopefully, he can be convinced to let me buy him a mobile phone while we're out. I still don't bloody well trust Ewan, darlings. I'd thought I'd dealt with him properly, but now I feel he's lurking, in the background, looking for a chance to strike.
*goes off to collect his keys and find Michael*
I'm temporarily camping out on Jonny's couch
, but I'm doing my best to avoid him whenever possible. *pinches his nose and sighs* I admit, I'm holding out hope that Jude will come to the club tonight
, and tell me that he made a terrible mistake in letting me go.
I know Jude has spoken to Jonny, because I could overhear the conversation. Jonny is inordinately fond of loud speakerphone conversations when someone is trying to sleep. It seems that Jude has convinced Ryan that it would be best if Hayden went to the club alone, a smart move, given that Tove might not be willing to make an appearance if Ryan is present - apparently they don't get on well, which I can only suppose is because Tove is sleeping with Ryan's wife.
So, from what I've gathered, Jonny and I are to go to the Troubadour, and shortly thereafter, Hayden is scheduled to meet his brother there. I believe Jude's two youngest children are arriving this evening - unfortunate nanny in tow, no doubt - and Ryan will be taking his own children over to play with them, while all this is happening. Jude felt it would be a good way to keep him from bolting to the club without warning. Apparently Ryan is a bit unpredictable.
I shall hold out hope that Jude will arrive and drop to his knees in abject apology. I refuse
to ask Jonny if Jude has managed to locate Michael, or if he knows if Jude has any intention of being present for this evening's festivities. In fact, I am trying
to speak to Jonny as little as humanly possible. It's bad enough I'm stuck on this gaudy couch, surrounded in the trappings of the Nouveau Riche. You'd think he felt the need to flaunt his wealth. *pinches the bridge of his nose again* This is nothing
like the quiet elegance that I'm accustomed to with Jude, and I can only hope that this arrangement will be unbelievably
*walks downstairs feeling like total shite after spending most of the morning sick*
*mutters to self* I am seriously hoping this is the flu...I wish I could get a hold of Val...maybe it is just stress...*sighs*
*notices Reese Witherspoon over at Tove's place*
What is she doing over there?
*decides to go say hello to Tove and to ask a few questions of Reese, knowing she is a mother*
*grabs a bottle of water, walks out of the house and heads toward the trailer*
Hello? Tove? It's Nic. Anyone home?
What a relief to be home, darlings. Not that several days of Sadie's company wasn't enjoyable
. Actually, it was quite amusing, as Rafferty spent most of it bonking her over the head with things. And pointing out mating animals on safari, and explaining the process of reproduction to his mother, who was quite
interested and not at all
embarassed. God bless American tutors.
*kisses Leo hello and wanders outside to the poolhouse, hoping to find a clue where Michael's gone to and finding Michael's note
*sits down to read it, frown increasing as he goes*
*walks back into the main house, calling out* Leonardo, darling, will you come here for a moment, please?
*holds up a hand as Leo walks in the kitchen door, answering his ringing phone*
*sits on the kitchen counter, staring at Michael's cell phone, which is sitting on the kitchen island and ringing endlessly*
Jude's been calling that phone all evening. *pinches the bridge of his nose*
At first, I thought Michael was just ignoring me in the pool-house, given what happened last evening
. But after knocking at the pool-house door, and not receiving any answer, I came back inside and noticed that the money he'd left on the kitchen counter was missing.
And then his cell started ringing. And with Jude gone, I don't think he'd go anywhere without the cell phone, if he had any intention of returning.
*sighs when the house phone rings, walking toward it slowly, knowing it's Jude on the other line without even looking at the caller ID*
*is lying in bed, staring at the ceiling*
Caleb tells me I tried to kill myself. Caleb also tells me that Ian saved my life and that he and Mikey stayed with me throughout the whole ordeal. But most interesting of all, Caleb's informed me that the blame for my suicide attempt rests with Tove, or at least that's what Caleb says he told Tove. Caleb tells me all this repeatedly, while he hovers over me all bloody day and watches my every move. Lucky for me, Caleb's gone to fetch my new prescriptions, and that leaves Ian in charge of babysitting me this afternoon.
Caleb's wrong about everything, though. I didn't try to kill myself, and even if I had, it certainly wouldn't have had a bloody thing to do with Tove. Please. It was an accident. It was an accident which happened because I’m stupid and pathetic and, apparently, just a bit depressed.
*kicks the blankets off and makes her way out into the hallway, checking for Ian and heading for the stairs when she sees no sign of him*
I'm sure that Ian, at least, will think that all this was about Kate leaving. Clearly, though, Kate's abrupt departure only served as the climax of an existing problem. Still, I don't know what to bloody think about the Kate business. That note and her behavior so obviously point to Tove having done something that made her want to leave. But since I don't know what he did because no one tells me anything, and since he’s never done anything to me, I'm just going to pretend nothing happened. As far as I'm concerned, he just got back from France and that project of his is over. And he's making some changes to his house. Big ones.
*goes downstairs and sees Mikey on the couch, his back to her* *smiles and creeps over to the armchair near the head of the couch, curling up in it and hugging her legs to her chest, resting her cheek on her knees as she waits for Mikey to notice her*
*looks at his phone, where the line just went unexpectedly dead*
There's nothing like Jonny to brighten one's day, darlings. But he is, if nothing else, honest, and possibly right, though I'd rather saw through my lips than tell him so. He gets so utterly smug when he's right.
But never mind that. I've an errand, an enjoyable one, for a change, darlings. I cannot wait to find out who that Neanderthal is sleeping with, so that I can, er... well, it wouldn't be completely amiss for me to devil Jonny with it, would it? He's the pillock who decided he wanted the Neanderthal. Oh, this is too good.
*dials Ryan's cell, tapping his foot impatiently*
I am not feckin' poutin'. Just because I go out to a feckin' pub
and meet up with the very bastard
who sent me to feckin' rehab, and then fuck him in my feckin' limo, and then invite him home
, only to get turned the feck down
, does not mean I'm feckin' poutin'.
Nor does it feckin' mean that I'm sittin' by the feckin' phone waitin' for the feckin' bastard to call
. I got better things to do. Make movies. Go see me girlfriend. Wank off in the feckin' bathroom, for Christ's sake, and I'll think about his feckin' brother while I do it and feckin' Tove Christensen won't even enter me feckin' mind
I am NOT feckin' poutin'.
And Ewan McGregor's single again. Found that out last night, and it isn't as though I haven't been in feckin' love with him for ten years. Which reminds me, meant to give Jude a ring and find out why he left the feckin' love of his life, and what the FECK he's doin' back with Leo Dicaprio. Things bloody well change when a man goes to rehab.
*lounges on the bed, watching TV, until he's antsy enough to actually pick up his phone and dial Jude, needing to talk to someone
*gets back home with Leo, completely and totally drunk
, and crawls onto the bed in the Master bedroom, taking off all his clothes and waiting for Leo to come back in from the bathroom*
*bites his lip as Leo comes into the bedroom, watching as the expression on Leo's face goes from surprise to something else completely* *closes his eyes, room spinning, as Leo slips off his clothes and climbs onto the bed, as Leo straddles his hips and starts kissing him, as Leo runs his hand down and down and down*
*stifles a whimper and then a sob, scrambling off the bed madly, dizzily, and runs back to the poolhouse, ignoring Leo calling him back, locking the door behind him and crying sloppily, room still spinning crazily*
*brushes away tears with the back of his hand and goes to the closet, slipping on a pair of Jude's old jeans and a hoodie, then slipping on his sneakers and sitting down on the bed, pen and paper in hand*
*scribbles a rambling note to Jude and leaves it on the center of the poolhouse bed, for Jude to see when he gets back from Africa*( Dear JudeCollapse )
*sneaks into the house, just long enough to grab the money he earned from the show that night from the kitchen counter, room still spinning, and makes his way out to the street, to hitch a ride to Keira's house*
*is sitting at the bar of the Troubadour, sipping on a mojito, and trying to listen to Jonathan Rhys Meyers over Michael's screaming on stage*
My babysitting duties have expanded from taking Michael to visit his friend in the hospital, to bringing him here. To the Troubadour.
He got a call this morning from one of his bandmates, letting him know that the opening act for Soul Asylum had canceled, and that Pagoda - Michael's band - was being offered the gig.
As soon as I sat down at the bar, I was promptly joined by Jonathan Rhys Meyers, who I've met once or twice, but never really talked to. And just minutes later, Tove Christensen joined us. I have to admit, I'm looking forward to talking with Tove, given the fact that he and Jude seem to have some sort of historical animosity.
Unfortunately, none of us can hear a thing over the wail of the electric guitars and Michael's screeching.
*smiles, deciding to just watch the show, and worry about talking later*
Michael is loud, which I expected. Unless he's singing a ballad, in which case you barely hear him over his guitar. It's somewhat adorable, and I have a feeling that the screaming teenage girls in the front row agree with me.
*feels the cellphone vibrate in his pocket, and steps away from the bar just as the band stops playing, the announcer stating that the main act will come on within a half hour*
*looks at the caller ID, smiling when he sees that it's Jude, and walks toward the back of the club*
Hi, handsome. Miss you. Miss me? When do I get you back? *smiles and listens* Yes, he's fine. His friend is fine. We're at the Troubadour. *listens* No, no. Not a date. His band is playing, or rather, just finished playing. *listens* I just ran into Tove Christensen and Jonathan Rhys Meyers at the bar, and I was considering asking them out for a bite with Michael and I. I miss adult conversation. *laughs* Actually, he was adorable. You should check out one of his shows when you come back, but I warn you, you might have to fight off the teenage girls. *nods* Let me see if I can get through the throng of adolescents. One second, sweetheart.
*makes his way through the screaming girls, to the backstage door, handing Michael the phone and mouthing 'Jude,' and 'I'll be at the bar'*
*is coming out of Keira's room at the hospital, smiling, back of his hand to his forehead* I can't bear to watch, darling, call me back in when the ice cream
is gone. Oh don't look at me like that, I'm teasing. I'll just be a minute, my dear.
*slips into the hallway and pulls out his cell phone, dialing Kate's number*
Gandalf finally called back
, letting me know what hospital Kee is at, and I made Leo stop so we could smuggle her in some ice cream, even though I think he's mad at me because Jude left for Africa without us
*taps his feet anxiously on the seat of the car, fiddling with the radio stations, backpack with the small cooler and ice cream supply bouncing on his lap, wishing Leo would drive faster and calling Jude's new cell every few minutes to see if he's in a coverage area yet*
I don't know why Kee would do this. She was fine when she came to bring me my stuff
, and she didn't say anything was wrong at all. Maybe Gandalf will know something. I hope so, because this isn't like Kee at all.
*hops out of the car, before Leo even manages to put it in park, rushing into the hospital, backpack on his shoulder, and heading for the room Ian indicated, again, not even waiting for Leo*
*peeks his head into the room, noticing Keira is asleep and Ian is sitting in the chair next to the bed*
*clears his throat, trying to get Ian's attention*
So, i talked to Tove last night. And he, um. God. He's trying to tell me that he's sleeping with Reese Witherspoon. Which is really stupid. So I know he's up to something, and I wish I knew what. *sighs* Ryan's really upset. Really really upset, even though he's trying to hide it. I wish I could make this all go away for him, somehow.
I convinced him to take the kids out to a movie without me, and I'm making dinner. To, you know, prove I can, and also because I want to do something for him. It isn't much, but, you know, I... I can't do anything for him that I really want to, so this is all I can do. For now.
*watches by the window for Ryan and the kids to return, smiling when he sees the SUV pull onto the street outside*
*is driving back home from the hospital*
I was working on the porch roof today, when an ambulance pulled up next door, carting Keira off on a stretcher. By the time I managed to scramble off the porch roof, Ian and Keira's brother, Caleb, had both climbed in, and I got in the SUV and followed the ambulance to the hospital.
That's as far as I fucking
got. Caleb, who I've met a bunch of times before, stopped me outside the Emergency Room, screaming that he'd talked to Keira on the phone a few days ago, and that this was all my fucking fault. What the fuck
? I didn't DO
anything to Keira. Not a fucking thing. Caleb was hysterical, and I put my hands up and left. But I just don't fucking get it. I had nothing to do with anything. I mean, I know
Kate left - I saw her leave - but that wasn't my fault, either. I didn't even see her after we got off the Goddamn cruise. Maybe something happened with Jack Nicholson to make her leave. Fuck if I know. Bottom line. None of this shit is my fault, despite whatever the fuck Caleb says.
*rubs the back of his neck, pulling into the driveway and leaning his back against the car seat* To make matters worse, I talked to Hayds yesterday
, and to say it went badly? Would be a fucking understatement.
*laughs a little as Reese follows one of the construction workers outside, hands on her hips, bitchy expression on her face - then sobers* Oh, God, what the fuck
am I doing?
As if yesterday's drama wasn't enough
, today has managed to be even more trying.
Sadie called early this morning. I answered, of course, as I was the only person in the house at the time, and she very curtly demanded that Jude accompany Rafferty to Africa.
Now, I'm quite accustomed to Sadie's early morning phone call dramatics, so I told her to hold on, while I went to collect Jude from the pool-house. It turns out, that Rafferty was supposed to catch a flight to Africa on the previous evening, but the Paparazzi kept him from being able to leave the car at the airport.
Jude assured Sadie that he would accompany Rafferty, and he proceeded to book himself, Michael and I tickets to London, where we were to collect Rafferty, and then on to Africa.
All settled, right? Wrong
. As we were packing, Ian McKellen called for Michael. Seems Keira Knightley, a friend of Michael's, tried to commit suicide today.
Ian promised to call back with the details of what hospital Keira was admitted to, and we're still waiting on that phone call. But what it boils down to, is that Michael refuses
to go to Africa until he hears from Ian, and Jude refuses
to leave him here alone, given the encounter with Ewan yesterday.
Guess where that leaves me? I'll tell you. It leaves me sitting on the couch, watching Michael pace in front of the phone, while Jude catches a plane to London alone
*pinches the bridge of his nose* And let's not even mention yesterday. I know I need to get through to Michael, if this is ever going to work for all of us, but he's too wary of me to give me a chance.
I don't have the slightest clue what he was thinking when he kissed me last night. *sighs* But I have to admit, it was nice. Much nicer than I expected. And, I'll also admit that I felt completely and totally protective of him during the encounter with Ewan.
Why do I have the feeling we're all on a merry-go-round? One that none of us have any hope whatsoever of stopping.