vigorli

author: zebraljb
rating: up to NC17
disclaimer: it's all made up...I also don't know the info or situation with anyone's agent/publicist, so this is all made up.

MY CONFESSION
Nine

Orlando slept like a baby his first night back in England. He had his own place not too far outside of the city, but he dreaded going back to its empty rooms and echoing halls. He had bought it because he liked the idea of owning what he could call a “country estate,” but the grandeur of the décor only made him seem lonelier and farther away from everything he was starting to miss.

He stretched, smiling as he thought of the dinner he had enjoyed with Sean and Eric. It was nice to know that he COULD be the Orli he knew deep down inside. He had traded jokes with Eric and drinking games with Sean. He knew he should have the hangover of the century, especially with the time difference, but he felt good. Better than he had in ages.

He glanced at the clock and saw that it was ten in the morning. He remembered that Eric had to be back on the set at eleven for a short cast meeting, and therefore he made himself get out of bed and go into the bathroom. Orlando washed his face and hands and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms.

“Hey,” he said sleepily, running a hand through his curls. Eric sat at the table reading the newspaper. Orlando bestowed a kiss on his dark head before heading for the coffeepot.

“Morning, sunshine.” Eric smiled at the haphazard sight of his “little brother.” “You look refreshed.”

“Damn straight, mate.” Orlando sat at the table, stirring his coffee. “I haven’t slept this good in years, I don’t think.”

“You look remarkably healthy after everything you two drank,” Eric said with amusement.

“Where IS Beanie?”

“Put him in a taxi this morning. He crashed on the sofa for a few hours but ended up going back to that loft he keeps downtown.” Eric glanced at his watch and finished his coffee. “I have to run. What are you doing today? I should be back not too long after lunch.”

Orlando stretched his arms over his head and Eric winced as he heard bones crack. “Well, I need to call Robin. Fuck but that’s gonna be hell.”

“How so?”

“I’m going to politely tell her to shove it,” Orlando said bluntly. “She has three months left to her contract…we were gonna renegotiate in a few weeks. Fuck it. I’ll find a new manager, or do it myself.”

“You’re joking.”

“Serious as a fucking heart attack, Eric. I’m gonna grow up and start doing things for myself. Maybe I won’t actually BE my own manager, but I’m sure as hell gonna start getting more involved in my career.” He started ticking things off on his fingers. “Gotta call Dom and Billy, and grovel. Gotta call Elijah, and grovel, though he owes me an apology as well.”

“Gotta call Viggo?” Eric asked.

Orlando studied the table. “No. Not yet. He’s…not gonna be very receptive to anything I have to say right now.”

Eric bent down and kissed the tousled curls. “Try saying I love you. I think he’d be quite receptive to that, mate.”

Orlando took his time showering, allowing for the fact that his manager was in New York and therefore five hours behind London. He pulled on a pair of jeans and dug around in his suitcase, frowning at his shirts. He padded into Eric’s room on bare feet and found a large grey fleece laying on the floor. Orlando pulled it over his head, inhaling the scent of Eric’s cologne. He smiled, feeling as if his big brother was hugging him and giving encouragement.

Shaking his head at his behavior, Orlando went back into the living room, picked up the phone, and carried to the coffee table. He stared at it for a long moment as if it were about to attack him. He bit at a fingernail for a second, then turned on the speakerphone before dialing. It was seven a.m. in New York. Robin would be up.

“This is Robin,” she barked.

Obviously she was wide awake. “Robin, it’s Orlando.”

“Where the hell are you, Orli? I just heard the news. You blew off the dinner? I told you they expected you to be there.”

“There were a hundred other actors and musicians there, Robin, I doubt they missed me.” Orlando curled one leg under his body and bent the other knee up. He rested his chin on that knee. “How are you today?”

“Don’t pull that sweetheart crap with me, Orlando. We’re gonna have to do some serious spinning to cover this one up.”

“Well, about that.” Orlando picked at the edge of the sofa cushion. “I don’t think it will be necessary.”

“What?” Robin squawked indignantly.

“I don’t think it will be necessary,” Orlando repeated. “I don’t think you’ll have to do anything for me, Robin. Ever again, actually.”

“Orlando…”

“Will you please, for once, just be quiet?” Orlando snapped, his tired ego rushing to the surface. “For what I pay you, you should be able to sit quiet and listen to me talk, for fuck’s sake.” Silence at the other end. “Thank you,” he said wearily. “I know you’re aware that your contract runs out in a few months, and I know we were going to sit down and talk about it. The thing is…I think I need to go in a different direction. I need to go somewhere new, and it’s not a place I think you’ll be comfortable.”

“And just what is this place?”

“It’s the place where I can be myself and not worry about what the public or the industry thinks. If I go to a charity event, I want to do it because I believe in the charity, not because it’s the “right” place to be. I want to do pictures that will mean a lot to me personally, NOT mean a lot to my bank account. Do you understand?”

“I was only doing it for you, Orli. Maybe we could work on this. It’s definitely an interesting angle.”

Orlando chuckled, though the sound was far from mirthful. “Robin, it’s not an angle. It’s my fucking life, okay? I’ll give you a nice severance, I promise. I just need to move on.”

“Don’t blame me if your career goes down in flames, Bloom. I’ve done everything I could to make you a star, and obviously I did something right,” she said angrily.

“I think I was the one making the movies, Robin,” Orlando said gently. She replied by slamming the phone down. He jumped and slowly reached forward to turn off the speakerphone. “Well, that went well,” he said out loud.

Eric came home a few hours later to find what seemed to be an empty suite. “Orli?”

“In here,” a voice called from Eric’s bathroom. Eric dropped his things on the sofa and wandered into the master bedroom. He knocked on the closed door. “I’m decent. Come in.”

“Hardly,” Eric scoffed, but opened the door.

Orlando lounged in Eric’s large bathtub, covered from toes to neck with frothing bubbles. “Your tub was bigger, and I needed a good soak.”

“Is this the time where I tell you that you’re a fucking girl? Should I braid your hair for you?” Eric teased in a girlish voice.

“Fuck off, before I tie your balls into a knot,” Orlando snapped.

Eric chuckled. “How did your calls go?”

“Well…I only made one,” Orlando said, running a hand along the edge of the tub. “And it didn’t go very well.”

“Hence the very necessary bubble bath,” Eric commented.

“Yeah,” Orlando said, nodding. “She seems to think that I got where I am because of her, not because I have talent.” He stuck his toes up in the faucet, alternating feet. “Not that I don’t agree with her sometimes about the talent part,” he muttered.

“Shut it,” Eric growled. “You are talented, Orli. Don’t start doubting yourself now.”

“Hand me that towel, could you?” Orlando leaned forward and opened the drain before standing up. “I’m not doubting myself, really, it’s just…she made me wonder for a bit if it was true.”

“It’s bullshit and you know it.” Eric handed over the requested towel, then a robe. He smiled. “I could make a million with a picture of that.”

“What?” Orlando asked from under the towel as he scrubbed his curls.

“Orlando Bloom with bubbles on his arse.” A middle finger appeared from under the towel and Eric’s smile broadened. “No thank you. I’m straight. Feel like getting some lunch?”

“I had a late breakfast,” Orlando said, appearing from under the towel. He put on the robe, tying the belt tight. “Maybe dinner? I could eat Italian.”

“I know just the place. I’ll make a reservation.” Eric stood. “You look better.”

“I feel better,” Orlando said quietly. Eric ruffled the damp curls and left the bathroom.

Orlando got dried off and back into his jeans. He left Eric’s fleece in the laundry pile and got his own t-shirt. He didn’t feel the need for protection this time. He stared at the phone yet again before dialing.

“Dominic here.”

“Hi, Dom. It’s…it’s Orli.”

“Hello, Orlando.” Dom’s voice was polite but cold. “How are you?”

“Good, I’m back home, you know, taking care of some things.” Orlando bit at his bottom lip. “Listen, Viggo gave me a copy of your script…since I lost mine and all.”

“Yeah?” Dom sounded vague. “Look, Orli, if this is just a chitchat call, I really don’t have time for it.”

“I read it on the plane and it’s fantastic,” Orlando blurted out. “And the part you said you wrote for me? It’s like nothing I’ve ever done before.”

“Yeah, well, I figured so much. Not a lot of guns or adventure or swooping in to save the girl and all that.”

Orlando winced. “I know. I deserved that. Look, Dom, I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry I acted like such a selfish git. I…I haven’t been myself lately.” Dom snorted. “All right, you got me. I haven’t been myself for a few years now. And I’m not thinking I’m gonna change overnight, but…this role. It’s amazing. And I want it. Whenever you get a deal, I want my name in on it.” Orlando rubbed at his forehead, wondering if he should say what he was thinking. He decided to take a chance. “And if you want, I’ll do anything I can to get you meetings with people at the studios. I don’t have that much pull, I mean, I’m a famous name but don’t have that much of a reputation with the suits, ya know? But I’ll do what I can. You just say the word and I will bend over backwards to help you. It’s the least I can do.”

The phone was silent for a long moment. “We appreciate that, Orlando.” Billy’s thick accent came across the line.

“Bill, hey.”

“Dommie put me on speaker,” Billy said. “We have a few meetings this week and a couple more the beginning of next week. If something doesn’t come through, we may just take you up on that.”

“Good,” Orlando said, relieved. “I’m sorry, Billy. I mean it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Me, too,” Dom said, and his voice was a bit warmer. “Where are you now?”

“I’m in Eric’s suite in London. I’ll probably go out to the house at the end of the week. You have my cell, right? I don’t even have the phone turned on out there.”

“Yeah, we got it,” Billy said.

“Let me know the second you hear something, okay? I don’t care if it’s three in the morning.”

“Don’t say that, Orli. You know he’ll wait to call you at three in the morning on purpose now,” Dom said, and Orlando laughed out loud.