Disclaimer : I don't know Jake Gyllenhaal and this is a work of fiction. I know nothing about his private life and don't mean to suggest anything regarding his sexuality either.
The Important Things in Life - chapter 5
Jake continued to sit hunched over, his hands covering his face. I can't describe the frustration I felt when I couldn't see his face. I still didn't know what was going on, except that the call had deeply upset him. I knew he was weeping softly though. I had seen the first tear hit the floor, and it was followed by a few thereafter. He seemed to be trying to calm himself down, but every time I thought his breathing was settling back to its regular pattern, he entered a flurry of panicked gasping. The fact that he wouldn't talk infuriated me, but at the same time I held my arm around him and waited patiently. I looked at the watch on my wrist, and shook my head sadly - a great moment between us marred by one phone call.
"Jake, what's wrong?" I asked delicately, for at least the fifth time.
This time he did raise his head, and he looked forward for a moment. Wiping his eyes, he turned to look at me. My breath caught. His face, normally so full of vitality and the sheer joy of living, was haggard and he looked spent. It was as if he hadn't slept for weeks. His wonderful sharp eyes were red and sad, and his lips trembled so slightly, that I wouldn't have been able to see it if I was any further away.
"Oh shit, Jake, what's happening? I can't bare to see you like this." My voice actually cracked when I said it. His pain was already riding on my shoulders too. It stabbed me like an open wound to see him in such anguish. I felt like weeping too, but I needed to maintain a clear disposition if I was to be of any help.
His lips curved down, and the tremor intensified. I thought he was going to start crying again. He wasn't the crying type, and to see his raw emotions on display added a great amount of weight to the situation. "Kevin," he said simply and put his head on my shoulder. I placed my hand on his cheek and stroked it, before reconsidering and pulling him into a full embrace with both my arms. He exhaled with relief, and I could feel his gratitude as I held onto him.
"It's ok, Jake. Whatever it is, I'm here for you," I said softly.
"I know," he said.
The silence stretched for several minutes, an agonising absence of sound as I waited for something to happen. Jake seemed to be revitalising himself through the embrace, surely just desperate for my support. I gave the situation time.
"That fucking bitch," he said suddenly. I was shocked to hear him speak, and even more so to hear one of his rare outbursts. I didn't reply though, just held him, with his head almost against my chest as I embraced him from the side.
"Kirsten has been giving me shit for months now, but this really bites the big one." He said softly, but some strength was re-entering his voice.
"Who is Kirsten?" I said gently.
"Kirsten Dunst," he said gravely.
"The actress?" I asked curiously.
"Is there another?" he said harshly. I looked upwards, silently berating myself for the idiotic question at this fragile moment. Think Kevin. This isn't a time for your frivolous mindless banter.
"No. Sorry," I said, but he never replied. "What is she pulling on you, Jake?"
There was a pause. Either he didn't want to tell me, or the event was painful to think on and required some preparation. Eventually he did speak though. "I went out with her for a short time, before I accepted what I was. I admit I enjoyed her company, but that's all. She didn't have what you and I have, Kevin."
I murmured approval and tightened my embrace briefly.
"Eventually I had to break it off. It become more of a duty than a relationship in the end, and I hated every minute. She was furious when I dumped her, and when I told her why, I thought she was going have a stroke. She's been plaguing me since, threatening to expose me unless I come back to her." He finished angrily, almost shouting in disgust.
"How the fuck does she expect it to work?" I said outraged.
"She doesn't care, Kevin. She loves me in some twisted way, and she doesn't care if it's mutual. Hell, it might be a physical thing for her alone." He seemed exhausted, as if this problem had followed him around for months.
"So she phoned you again?" I asked.
"Yeah, but this time was different," he said shakily. "She says she paid some guy to catch us on camera. She says she doesn't know who you are, but she claims she caught us kissing when I dropped you off at the coffee shop earlier." He sounded incredulous, but at the same time scared that she wasn't bluffing.
"I did see a guy with a camera there while you were driving away," I said innocently.
His head came up quickly, and he looked angry. "What? Why didn't you tell me!?"
I was slightly taken back with his attitude, but he was under strain and I let it slide. "I'm sorry, Jake," I said, but not really sounding sorry. "You're a celebrity, and I thought cameras follow you. I only saw the guy for a second. I'm not used to this celebrity shit, you know."
His eyes softened and he leaned back against me. "Sorry Kevin. I know you'd do nothing to harm our relationship." "Damn right," I said woodenly, but speaking more to the absent journalists rather than Jake. "So what now?" I said.
He sighed again, and looked at the pool. The sunlight reflected off the pool and illuminated his eyes, but his glare seemed to stare well beyond the water.
"Now, she says I must meet her in half an hour. She has terms for me, she says, but I half know what they're going to be. I have to refuse them. I have to! ... but I know what she'll do then." He seemed tirelessly trapped in a web of threats, spun deftly by this royal hag.
I leaned my head against his, and he murmured with approval. I really was his last lifeline in the world, and when I thought about the implications thereof, I shuddered. "I'll go with you," I said supportively.
"No!" he shouted loudly, but I could see that he hadn't done so intentionally. "No," he said softly. "You won't believe how venomous that woman is. She'll harm anyone she sees as a threat, and I'm sure you're at the top of the list, even if she hasn't figured out who you are yet. No." He shook his head rigidly. "I have to deal with her. I won't let her harm you." He finished with a determined look and I was taken back by the malice I saw in his eyes. I didn't think such malignant intentions were possible with Jake, but Kirsten had found the key which unlocked that reinforced door.
"You won't do anything foolish, will you Jake?" I asked concernedly. I thought I'd spend the rest of my days wading in rivers of self-loathing if I had been the one to trigger some irrational response in him.
"No," he said simply, and I knew he was telling the truth. He was a very bad liar. "Let me go chat with her. I'll be back later this afternoon." He looked at me with pained eyes, possibly fighting the temptation to ask me to go with and help him. I would have accepted in an instant, but I wouldn't offer again. Jake could make the right decisions without my interference. He looked at me for a moment longer, his lips flicked with a small tremor. That was fear which I'd seen. Something must have passed over my face when I saw his fear, because his eyes widened slightly and he leaned in and kissed me shallowly but with passion. The ultimate diversion on his part, and not entirely ineffective. I might actually have grown angry had I not been wildly in love with the guy, and if I hadn't used exactly the same tactic earlier that day to pull his attention off my damaged hands.
I still loved the feel of his smooth lips and not so smooth face on mine. As expected, it drove all thought from my mind for a considerable time, which is what I was sure he was aiming for. I felt him back away but my eyes were still closed, my lips hungry for his touch again. The weight on the chair shifted as he stood up, and I watched him walk into the house and out the front door. He never looked back, which was probably for the best. It might have caused him to change his mind, and I didn't want to feel responsible for that either. Maybe I was a chicken shit asshole, but I was so scared of causing him pain, that I avoided it at almost any cost. I looked down at the watch gleaming in the sunlight, the spotless metal reflecting the bright rays into my eyes.
"Oh Jake," I whispered, feeling a deep pain in my chest. I suddenly felt insecure and angry that I'd let him confront her alone. He'd done it before, but this time was different. The guy was a wreck, and possibly unstable. I peered in the direction of the house, and secretly hoped he would be standing there in the doorway, already back from the sick affair. Fool, I thought. Not him. Me. He's just left.
I stood up and walked wearily towards the house. It was getting hot and the sun was taking its toll. I found a beach ball in my path, and kicked it angrily into the far distance, watching it roll away indifferently. When did I buy a stupid ball? No matter, it had provided an outlet which I had gratefully utilised. Stepping inside, I looked at the screwed up room which I had totalled the previous night. I shook my head once and immediately went and fetched a large brown sack from the tool shed. Amazingly, I actually had a tool shed, but it was as stagnant as a prehistoric artefact. The sack was dusty and I coughed several times while shaking it. I removed my shirt and threw it outside to be reclaimed later. I started cleaning up the mess I'd caused. Perhaps I could have called some sort of cleaning service to do it for me, but I was embarrassed to have my house seen like that. Even if a simple excuse could have deterred their questioning looks, I doubt it could have quelled my furious blushes. I picked up each little piece of glass, carefully examining the floor for small remnants which I'd missed. Each time I threw away a fragment of something, I sighed partly in anger and partly with sadness. A massively expensive Italian sculpture, a neat little plasma screen TV, a ripped masterpiece, and ornaments from the multitude of countries I'd visited. I'd broken them as thoroughly as possible. I doubt a steamroller could have done a better job. I shook my head quickly, as if trying to clear my depressive thoughts. None these material things mattered. Yes, it was a huge waste ... but the important thing was what happened to me that night, and what it meant between Jake and I. That is what mattered.
It took me over an hour and a half to gather all the rubbish and throw it in the trash. It was past twelve already. I peered over the balcony and saw the painting I had hurled in anger lying a few hundred feet below, already tarnished by the weather.
"Anyone who wants a dirty Monet can have it," I said to myself.
I threw the sack into the trash and walked back. I smiled approvingly at the room which was clean but slightly barren... and still missing any glass in the sliding door. I walked over to the phone and made an appointment to have it replaced. With that done, I went and lay on the couch in the replenished room. It was very comfortable, and the breeze which whispered through was amazing, but I was unhappy. The room was haunting me, and I had flashbacks of that evening. I even looked at the cracked walls to my right - all my work. I stood up and went and lay on the couch in the adjacent room. Lying face down, I gripped the chair and embraced it. I had lain here with Jake a few hours before. He had used this couch to distract my attention from the cursed room next door. I groaned sadly as I felt the void which he had left merely by leaving the house. I wished he was here so I could lie in his embrace again for hours on this couch. I placed my nose against the cushion and inhaled deeply, attempting ridiculously to catch any evidence that Jake had been there before. As expected, no luck. Bah!
I turned onto my back, covering my eyes with my arm, and running my other hand down my flat stomach. I longed for his touch, longed for his presence. I hoped he was alright. I had managed to distract myself for a few moments while cleaning the house, but these sort of issues usually caught up with you in your most silent and peaceful moments. Moments when your mind wandered, far back, and far into the future. I thought of Jake's face, and I felt my mouth spread involuntarily into a smile. I loved him so much it hurt. I thought back on our encounter in the shower, and I felt a twitch in my pants. Murmuring warmly, I was suddenly overcome by sleep. This couch was more comfortable than I thought, or perhaps my memories of Jake were so powerful that my mind would do anything to pull me closer to them. I dreamed mostly of him, of course. I dreamed of holding him, kissing him, laughing with him. After an indeterminable time, a powerful image of Kirsten slapping Jake suddenly flashed in my mind, and I sat up straight, my eyes open. I was breathless, and my heart was beating quickly. The light was dim in the room, and the air seemed cooler than before. I looked at my watch, and gasped.
"Six! What the hell is wrong with me?" I said, truly shocked. I slept for a few hours at the best of times, but in the past few days I'd slept for hours and hours upon end. Thinking back on it, I considered that I'd been walking around with years of weariness dragging me down, and all it took was a pure presence like Jake to unlock it, and help me relax for the first time in ages. I yawned mostly out of habit, and while looking at the watch, I wondered where Jake could be. Seven hours seemed like a long time for a meeting, unless he'd killed her and was now in jail. I chuckled, but suddenly my face grew serious when I thought about that hateful look which he'd shown outside. Surely he wouldn't go to those lengths? Surely!
I went outside and picked up my shirt which was still lying on the grass. It still retained the day's heat, but the sun had been reduced to a small line on the horizon. Darkness was settling and it was becoming too cool to walk around shirtless, especially alone. I stalked off to the kitchen and slapped together a simple ham sandwich with some mayonnaise and pickles, with a coke to accompany it. Under the circumstances, I wasn't really hungry, but I hadn't been eating well lately and I had to force something down before I malnourished myself in some way. I ate my food quickly, and watched some TV in my room. Two movies and a few tiresome sport games later, I was seriously starting to worry where Jake was. Perhaps I should have been worried long since. It was 2am! I lay on the bed playing with a tennis ball for perhaps twenty minutes, and just as I was about to get out one of my motorcycles and go looking for him, I heard scratching and shifting sounds emanating from my front door. I walked quickly to the door, and I heard him mumbling on the other side. He was safe, and I exhaled with relief. That said, now I could unleash my anger on him. I really was furious. How could he come back hours later after suggesting that he was going for a short meeting with Kirsten? I stood in front of the door, my arms crossed and my eyes declaring instant death to whoever walked through that door. It didn't last though. The ridiculous fumbling around an open door could only mean one thing. My eyes shifted from angry to insufferable, and I shook my head and looked at the ceiling. Without further delay, the unlocked door opened easily and Jake stumbled in, as drunk as a savage. His face was blank and confused, and his eyes searched weakly for some recognition. As soon as they fell on me, he smiled widely, and stepped quickly in my direction before falling into my arms. I grunted as his weight fell heavily on me, but he laughed childishly at my attempts to keep him, and myself, from falling to the floor.
"Buddy!" he said gleefully hugging me tightly. He kissed me violently, while laughing the whole time. I almost gagged at his heavy alcohol-laced breath, and I pushed him away lightly. He was laughing happily, trying to pull me down to the floor and snickering at my attempts to resist. I started grinning, caught up in the unbelievable situation taking place.
"Jake..." I murmured, trying to pull one of his hands off of me. As soon as it was off, it found its way back.
"I really love you, Kevin," he said seriously, his eyes rolling with inebriation. Then he burped to ruin the effect. I rolled my eyes again.
"Let's get you to bed," I said wearily. If I tried to scold him, or initiate any sort of conversation, it would undoubtedly be reduced to a conversation fit for a three year old.
I led him to the room, continuously fending off his attempts to kiss me. He staggered and I held him up with his arm around my neck. The journey was slow, and twice he broke into song causing me to thank my lucky stars that I didn't have neighbours. I laughed though. He was seriously cute even when drunk. Finally we arrived at the bed. I undressed him totally and placed him in the bed. It felt nice to be the nurturing one for once.
"Did I ever tell you..." he began, and then fell asleep, snoring loudly. I chuckled and kissed his forehead.
I turned off all the lights in the house and stripped down to join him. Lying beside him, I brushed my hand along his cheek causing him to flinch in his sleep. This fiasco was amusing in the short-run, but I stared at his sleeping form for a while longer, wondering why he had come home drunk. The discussion must have gone very badly, and he was trying to escape. I sighed sadly, my heart reaching out to him with pity. He looked content as he lay there, his chest rising and falling with wonderful serenity. I'd be supportive, no matter what. When the alcohol wore off though, his situation would be the same or worse. Turning off the lamp beside my bed, I found him in the dark. I lay on his chest and smiled as I picked up his heartbeat. His body was warm, and well-defined. Jake's situation was dire, but for the moment I revelled in the moment and fell asleep.
The next morning I awoke, and felt my hazy mind clear. I strained my eyes and found Jake still deeply asleep beside me. It was past ten, which was unusual for me. Our positions were slightly different. For one, I was facing away from him but his arm was around me, if limply. I smiled, grateful for the opportunity to wake up next to him. If he looked serene last night, he looked utterly at peace with life now. Ever seen a face which is smiling, except it's not?
I clasped his hand and squeezed it before getting out of bed. He remained unaware and carried on sleeping. I walked to the bathroom to take a shower and clean myself up. The day seemed sunny and happy, but it was propelled into a desolate hell as soon as I exited from the bathroom. Stepping out, I had a towel around my waist. Jake was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He didn't even look up when I approached.
"Hey," I said softly, and sat beside him hugging him.
"Hi Kev," he said graciously, but with sadness. He looked up and apart from his red and haggard eyes, I saw how close he was to a total emotional collapse. Indeed, the alcohol had shielded him for a few lucid hours, but reality had obviously set in.
"I take it you didn't sort it out with her," I said directly. Enough bullshit.
He shook his head sadly, and tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to break through at any moment. "I met her at the Hilton where she's staying, but I never dreamed it would be so bad. She told me that I had twenty-four hours to return to her side or she'd sell the pictures to an international tabloid of her choosing." He laughed bitterly, and I blinked. "She also wants me to sign a contract saying that I'll never leave her."
"Is that legal?" I asked.
"Would it matter to her if it wasn't? It would only add to her list of extortion and harassment." He'd slept all night, but he looked tired, so very tired.
I kissed his head, and held him, feeling his head lean into me instinctively. "Go have a shower. We'll talk about this later."
He nodded and walked silently to the bathroom before closing the door. I heard the shower start, but I breathed deeply when I realised that no cheerful singing would accompany this wasted morning. After looking at the floor for a moment, my eyes shot up in realisation. The Hilton. So that is where she is. Standing, I threw on some acceptable clothes and rushed out of the house, leaving Jake alone to take a shower.
"Sorry Jake, but I have to do this," I said to myself while walking to the car. Amazingly, the car wasn't damaged or scratched in any way. I climbed in and sped off.
Almost immediately I dialled Kate's number on my cell phone.
"Kate Reid, good morning," she said cheerfully. The woman was a machine.
"Kate, it's me." I said seriously.
"Hey Kev.." she started.
"I don't have time," I said bluntly. She didn't care when I was like this. It usually indicated some strain in my life, and in most cases she became exceedingly more efficient to try and help me solve the problem. "Kirsten Dunst is staying at the Hilton. Find out where she is staying in that fucking place, and tell her to meet me in the bar in fifteen minutes. If she's anything like what I expect, she should know who I am."
"Consider it done," she said very seriously and hung up.
As I drove, I felt my old malice settling back on me, the heavy mantle of big business which had helped me break my opponents previously, and gain what I wanted. Not in a bad way, you understand, but you need a tough shell if you want to get anywhere in the world, and I suspected that Kirsten was way out of her league, regardless of what Jake said about her. In ten minutes, I pulled up to the Hilton. It had been difficult to ignore two phone calls showing that Jake was phoning me, probably wondering where the hell I was. I had to be tough if I wanted to help him. I gave my car keys to the valet, and walked determinedly to the bar. I knew the Hilton well.
As I entered I saw her sitting at a normal table in the corner, her vapid gaze disregarding anyone who entered the bar. Her eyes narrowed when she saw me enter, and a sinister scowl formed on her face. Fool woman, to think that she could scare me off so easily. I walked to the table and sat opposite her.
"So you are Kirsten," I said. "I wish I could say that it was an honour."
She stared at me coldly as if I was a worm on the ground. "And you are Kevin Sanderson, the rich little prick who's fucking my boyfriend." Venomous. Good choice of words, Jake.
"Jake isn't yours Kirsten. He never was, and never can be. He's gay. What are you expecting out of the relationship?" I really was curious, but my face remained neutral.
"None of your fucking business," she said cruelly. "You just need to know that he's mine. Of course, he has a choice. I'm not a monster. He can reunite with me, or I'll sell my pictures to the papers. Then the whole wide world will know that he's a fag and so are you. How will your stock look then?" she smiled maliciously.
I laughed in her face. Sticks and stones, bitch. "Do you think I give a shit if people know I'm gay. I've got more than you'll ever have if you had ten careers in stardom. I could buy an island and happily settle there for the rest of my days. However, you are threatening someone I love dearly, and that I won't tolerate." I finished with a hard glare, and she leaned backwards.
"I'm the one making the threats, asshole. As I said, Jake has a choice..." she said calmly.
"It's no choice at all," I interrupted harshly. "As I see it, Miss Dunst, you have made several large mistakes here. Firstly, you stood on my toes without first finding out who you were insulting. You probably saw my picture in a magazine, or read about my favourite food on a cheap website and assumed I'd be a pushover. Did you really think I rose this high in the business world by smiling for every asshole who crossed paths with me? Are you really so dense? You've dangerously underestimated me, Kirsten, and it's going to cost you far more than you bargained for. It may seem that we are bargaining across the same table, but it only seems that way."
Her eyes were wide now, and her mouth had dropped open in shock. She was listening. She knew I wasn't bullshitting. I never gave her a chance, and continued softly. The quietness in my voice was more dangerous than any screams or shouts.
"Money is such a funny thing," I said toying with a dime I found on the table. "It has almost no limits. It is the one entity which crosses every boundary." She was staring at the coin too, and then glancing back at me suspiciously.
"Money can make someone, or break them. Too much, too little. It doesn't really matter. A shift in one direction can bring down businesses, careers, lives. It can even start or end wars. You thought I was just another rich prick who'd laid my hands on Jake - another error of yours. People like money, and people with money generally gravitate to those who have money. It makes them feel like they belong to a superior class of humanity. That they are special." I felt dirty saying those words. Other people believed that, but I didn't. Still, they suited me for the time being, at least until I got the result I wanted.
Kirsten's lips started trembling. For the first time, she probably realised how deep this lake was that she'd thrown herself into. She probably thought I'd hired someone to kill her. I laughed inside at the thought. I wouldn't even know who to call.
"I've been planting seeds all over the place ever since I earned my first millions. There are thirteen major film production studios in Hollywood. I'm the majority shareholder in nine, and as for the other four... I own enough to swing most of their board decisions to my liking. My secretary is busy contacting the big nine, as I like to call them. Each is interested to hear my opinions on you. So, as I see it, we are finished here. You've done your good deed for the day, and I now I must do mine. Good day to you, Kirsten."
I stood up with a grin, but she dived for my arm pulling me down desperately. "No please!" she almost shouted. "Please! You'll ruin my career! My life!" Tears streaked down her cheeks.
"Yet you saw fit to ruin Jake's life and our relationship. Why should I show you any mercy? I should destroy you just because of what you've done to Jake up to now." My heart inside was cold. I meant it, and she would deserve it.
"Please... I'll do anything you ask," she sobbed.
"Yes you will," I said gravely. "I will never ask again. If I see that you have reneged on your obligations even slightly, you will regret it for the rest of your life. Whatever leverage you think you might find after this, nothing will protect you from me. If you think that my power is limited to the film world, then you have made yet another foolish assumption today. I never give second warnings. Ask any of the executives who now work at the harbour packing fish."
"Alright," she said meekly, still crying.
"You will give me those pictures you took as well as any copies. You will never hire a journalist to spy on Jake or me again. If you do, I will use that same journalist to ruin you. I'll make you a porn star in the world's biggest newspaper, or worse. You'll be torn to pieces. Next... you will leave Jake alone. Totally! No phone calls and no other form of communication. If I pick up any hints that you've tarnished his name around Hollywood, then I will end you. Leave Jake to his new life, and leave me alone too. Learn this lesson well, Kirsten. The next one is going to be very sharp."
She nodded twice, openly sobbing and starting to attract some attention in the restaurant. She opened her bag and gave me the photos. They were pretty feeble shots of Jake pecking me on the lips, but more than enough to incriminate him. I looked at her with suspicion.
"There aren't any others, I swear. Just these eight originals. I didn't mean to hurt Jake. I love him. Please send him my love. Please. That's all I ask." She blew her nose. Red trails were running down her cheeks, but she'd stopped crying.
"No. Jake has had enough of you, and so have I. Now get out of my sight," I said coldly. She stood up and ran out of the bar. Standing, I challenged the glares of those who looked at me accusingly. Fuck you all, I thought. As if they knew who the bad one was here.
The situation was settled. I knew she wouldn't ever bug Jake again. Like many people, money meant more to her than anything, and she'd rather die than ruin her career and her connection to that money. If she did ever surface again and cause him trouble, I would drive her to suicide - and not feel bad about it. Horrible woman. Who the fuck does that to someone you claim to love? Walking out of the hotel, I hailed my car which arrived a minute later. I smiled when the valet got out of the car, but was overcome by a huge pulse of nausea. Instantly, I turned and vomited into the pot plant flanking the hotel entrance. The valet gasped, and an old woman with a fur coat behind me screamed weakly.
"Are you alright, sir?" the valet asked me.
"Yes thanks," I said wiping my mouth with my arm and snatching the keys from his hand. I climbed in the car and drove off. What the hell was that all about? Maybe the situation really was so sick that I'd finally cracked. After driving in silence for a few minutes, I thought about what was happening. I was becoming soft. Jake was bringing out my soft side, the side which I'd spent years reinforcing to protect. And for good reason! When I encountered the evils of the world, I needed at least some armour. Yet ... Jake was slowly peeling away every layer, making me more vulnerable and exposed. It was a serious disadvantage. Was it? I shook my head in confusion. He was turning my world upside down, and I didn't have the will to stop it. I didn't want to anyway. I loved him absolutely, and I loved what he was doing to me. If that meant I was going to be as meek as a baby with a rattle in five years, then so be it. The advantages of being with him far outweighed any disadvantages, and if I thought about it, it might not be a disadvantage at all. People like Jake make you look inward without realising it, and try and better yourself. Shaking off my thoughts, I was surprised to see that I was already home. I opened the door, suddenly wary of what I might find. My instincts told me that something untoward was about to happen.
"Where the hell were you?" Jake said out of nowhere. I looked to the left to see him standing there in the lounge which I'd fixed the day before, his face curious but irritated. He was wearing a pair of blue-black boardshorts which I'd picked up in Australia, and he was shirtless. Under other circumstances, I would have leered and appreciated the view.
"Kirsten will leave you alone," I said flatly before walking in the opposite direction. I didn't know how else I could say it. Slow realisation dawned on me. He might not be happy with my interference.
"What?" he shouted from behind me, and I heard him run up to me. His hand fell on my shoulder with an iron-hard grip causing me to flinch and swing around.
"Ah Jake, that hurts," I said angrily.
"I'm about to do worse," he said threateningly. "Who the hell gave you permission to talk to her, and to interfere at all?" He was furious and was visibly restraining himself.
"I need permission to help out someone I love? Fuck you!" I shouted, and glared at him coldly. "Are you going to hit me, Jake?" I said defiantly after a moment's pause.
"You'd fucking deserve it if I did," he shouted, moving forward until his face was inches from mine. Anger distorted his good looks. "Do I look like I wear a little pin saying that I work for the almighty Sandomere Empire? Do you see a little sign hanging around my neck asking for charity? Is the great Kevin Sandomere going to patch me up whenever I stub my toe?"
My anger became white hot, and I pushed his chest causing him to stumble backwards. "You ungrateful asshole! You've been literally disabled by this bitch since she phoned you yesterday. What was your strategy to stop her? Were you going to drink yourself into a stupor every night and hope that the photos would wash away too? Or perhaps you planned to drown her in your tears?"
"Fuck you for throwing that back at me!" he roared, pushing me back. I was winded, but I didn't let it show. He was shaking with anger, on the verge of initiating a physical fight with me. His fists were clenched, his mouth scowling with fury. His eyes seemed to bore into mine.
"I'm not going to fight you, Jake. Do what you like," I said calmly.
"You fucking betrayed my trust, Kevin. Why the hell was I stupid enough to tell you anything, when the first thing you do is run off to sort it out by yourself as soon as I go to take a piss?!"
"If you're so revealing, then why don't you ask for help?! It was the one failing of mine which you helped me see, and now you're doing it yourself!" I was shouting, my voice acidic, yet I was feeling frustrated with the whole situation. Maybe I should shoot Kirsten down in flames anyway. Look at what she was doing even after she was gone!
"Because I'm not a useless little prick who needs my super-powerful boyfriend to solve all my problems. I also have some pride to maintain! I also want to hold my head up high! No matter what you've done to shut her up, she'll always know that I was too weak to face her, and that I probably sent you to deal with her in my place. What a pussy she must think I am!" He spoke as if his entire ego had been stripped clear, but he spoke defiantly and with power in his voice. Had I done the wrong thing?
"It doesn't matter what she thinks Jake! She was busy breaking you down, and you had no plans to stop her.."
"How do you know? I mean... how the fuck do you know that?! Do you think that just because I show my pain to you, that it means I have no plans, no strategy to settle the situation? You didn't even ask me! You ran out the door after you'd tricked me into taking a shower. How honest of you, Kevin." He was still upset, but I no longer felt that he was about to attack me.
"Look, I'm sick of this shit. I'm sorry if I stepped where I shouldn't have. I was just trying to help because I love you. I have no other excuses, except to say that my intentions were noble. Take it or leave it. I'm sick of my fucking acts of goodwill being thrown in my face. It reminds me of why I became a ruthless prick in the first place." I threw the keys down on the kitchen counter and walked outside, not looking back. I half-expected him to take the keys and leave, maybe even forever. I didn't know how to read the situation. I could understand his gripes, but I was very angry that he couldn't understand mine.
Putting on my sunglasses, I went and lay on the deck chair on the far side of the pool. The sun was very warm, and the glare was intense, but I closed my eyes and tried to escape the toxic situation I found myself in. I had no intention of sleeping. I was doing too much of that anyway. I was emotionally exhausted, and it wasn't even midday yet.
Half and hour passed as I lay there in a dark slumber thinking about the day's events, and occasionally smiling at the fun times Jake and I had already had. Those were what mattered, not this other crap. With time, all these problems would pass. Perhaps I was trying to convince myself of the fact. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I leaped up in shock. Pulling off my sunglasses, I backed away from the deck chair warily. It was Jake, of course. Perhaps he'd thought about it and really had come to try and hit me, or perhaps to say good riddance. Or perhaps...
"Kevin," he said sadly. He seemed subdued and embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," he continued simply, unable to make eye contact. My mouth fell in shock, and he looked up. He sensed the delay and looked into my eyes. His mouth opened to say something else.
I didn't give him a chance. I ran up to him and hugged him tightly. I felt him exhale with relief, and I imitated him soon thereafter. Thank god. "I'm sorry too. Please forgive me for interfering. I didn't think it through properly, and I'm really sorry."
His hands drew up inside my shirt, and rubbed my back, and he talked into my ear. "I'm the one who should be sorry. You were just trying to help. I realise that now. Thank you for helping me out that nightmare."
"It felt good to be of some use for once," I chided. "... but I think we need some more work on our communication. It still sucks."
He laughed half-heartedly. "Yeah. It does. I don't want to lose you, and I know you feel the same."
"That's for damn sure," I said passionately. "Want to make something to eat?"
"Yeah. I could eat a horse." He said with glimpses of a good mood appearing. I could see the old Jake returning, and my heart warmed reflexively.
"I have some lamb stored away. Will a sheep do?" I said jokingly. He laughed.
"Sure will," he said, that beautiful smile reclaiming it's world-dominating throne.
We walked slowly toward the house, the sun reminding us how awesome the day was. He looked at me and smiled. Yes, the beach sounds like a great idea... I thought in reply to his inevitable question, but he never asked it. Maybe later.
"You know, I didn't have the faintest idea how to deal with her," he said moments before we entered the house.
"Yeah, I know," I said putting my arm around him. We walked into the house, and closed the door.
The end of chapter 5
Thanks again for all the positive feedback. Some of you have e-mailed me more than once and I really appreciate it. You can send any comments to rahvin747@yahoo.com