Chapter Twelve - Cannes Can

Cannes ... I love this laid back feeling of the French ... this it true style, not the artificial LA make believe thing that I have come to hate. Of course, Jemma doesn't think so, feeling out of place on the Crozet even though she has a fair amount of paparazzi following her around.

They don't recognize me, which is good for once. I have just come back from boot camp for Black Hawk Down and yet again I have a buzz cut, but this time without the fin. I miss my fin, two years before I had wept upon the loss of my curls and now I missed my mohawk and fin. Oh well, no use to cry over spilled milk or in my case about the loss of some black locks that hopefully grow back once the shooting is over.

I had thought that this week in Cannes would mend the gap that had grown continuously between me and Jemma for the past months. Ever since my realization that I missed Megan terribly, I had tried to get my life, well my life and Jemma's, to calm down, but Jemma didn't want to have any of it. So I had checked my bank account, had booked two first class tickets to Cannes and the best suite still available in a five class hotel.

It didn't work ... I knew it ... perhaps had already known but didn't want to face it. The boot camp had helped me getting a lot of stuff straightened out in my mind, like this thing about the booze. Staying sober for four weeks straight had not only cleansed my body of any nasty stuff but had also cleared my mind.

I now knew what I wanted, for the first time since this insanity called Hollywood had barged into my life, I really KNEW what I wanted. I wanted to do more small stuff back home, perhaps even returning to the stage, though I preferred film work. And I wanted to play Todd Blackburn, I really craved for the shooting to start.

I had tried to persuade myself that I only wanted the shoot to start because I loved film work but that was not true. I wanted to keep myself separated from the Hollywood/Model posse Jemma called her friends ... I wanted so much for Jemma to come stay with me in Morrocco, perhaps even realizing what I had realized, that life was too precious to squander it away while totally fazed out on booze.

With a sigh Orli turned back from the setting sun and looked into the darkening room behind him. In about ten minutes he had to go to the junket for LOTR and he was looking forward to seeing his friends again, but somehow Jemma had been bitching about it all day.

"Get a move on, Jems," Orli said and grimaced. Jemma hated it when he had called her love or honey, or baby, so she had insisted on darling. He would kill himself first before he used it though, so he used Jems.

"Don't call me that, that sounds so middle class," Jemma growled. Orli frowned when he saw that she was still wearing her PJs.

"Jem-ma, we need to go in ten minutes," Orlando replied. "And what is wrong with middle class? I come from a middle class background and so do you."

"It's so common," Jemma shot back and leafed through her dresses in the wardrobe. "I don't have anything to wear."

Closing his eyes, Orlando counted to ten before he stepped over to where his girl-friend was still perusing her wardrobe. He caught his reflection in the floor length mirror and frowned. He was wearing a black tee-shirt black suit pants and an Armani jacket, something Jemma had insisted on him wearing. He might look all sophisticated, but somehow he would have preferred one of his colourful shirts and his almost threadbare favourite jeans. Now he looked like just another pretty faced actor who could also double up as a model.

"You have lots to wear, in fact, yesterday you bought a new dress. Where is that?"

Jemma turned around and shot him an incredulous look. "You don't want me to wear a de la Renta creation to some Hobbit party, do you?"

"It isn't some Hobbit party, it is the first official press junket for Lord of the Rings, Jemma. This is important!" Orli said and started when the door bell rang. "Either you are getting into this de la Renta thing you bought or I'm going alone, but I will not listen to you belittling my friends." He walked over to the door and waited another minute, when Jemma didn't emerge from the bed room, he shook his head and made his way down to the hall and the awaiting car that would bring him to the old castle and hence the party.

"So when will you be off to Morrocco then?" Viggo asked. After the official thing was over the Hobbits, Sean Bean, Viggo Mortensen, Ian McKellen and Orli sat under a tree away from the blaring loudspeakers and the music.

Taking a drink from his water bottle, Orli grinned. "In about a week, can't wait till I get there."

"Is Jemma coming with you?" Elijah asked. He had kept a close eye on Orli ever since he had turned up for the junket and he had been relieved when he had stuck to juice and water the whole evening. They had talked earlier, and for once in a long time there had been the old camaraderie again which Lij had almost thought was lost forever.

"No, she said she doesn't want to shrink up like an old prune in the sun. Though she promised to visit me from time to time," Orli replied and shrugged. "I won't have much time for her anyway in those four months of filming, and she has a photo shoot coming up."

"Well perhaps we could come by some time," Dominic piped in and when he received a round of grins, he added, "We should try out dune boarding."

"Now this is an offer I can't resist," Orli laughed.

"Adrenaline junkie," Billy threw in and slapped his thigh. "Yae are as bad as Megan."

For a moment there was a pause, then Lij asked, "So you all went up to Scotland for the weekend?"

"Aye, and Meggie did'a first bungy jump. The lass was thrilled, couldn'a stop and was on a high. She almost beat yaer old record."

"What record?" Orli asked, creasing his brow.

"Five jumps in a row, you two are even now ... On her sixth Meg had to bow out because her leg hurt."

"Was Peter with her?" Lij asked, eyeing Orli from the corner of his eyes.

"Nay, he stayed at hom'. It was jus' Meggie, Dom and me. He would'a probably 'ave 'ad a heart attack."

"That's what I thought, too. Very bookish person," Dominic said. "Viggo, you met him, what was your impression on him?"

Viggo shrugged. "I don't think we should discuss him, he is Megan's boy-friend, and it is her choice with whom she is friends with," he looked at Orli pointedly before he stood up. "Anyone care for another drink?"

Ian stood up, brushing his chinos by doing so. "Wait up, dear Strider, I'm giving you a hand," Ian said and both men went over to the bar.

"So Viggo, out with it," Ian demanded as they had reached the bar. "What is bugging you about this Peter person?"

Viggo almost choked and grinned when he saw the mirth in Ian's eyes. "You are a cunning bitch, you know that?"

"But of course, my dear Viggo, though I have to admit that was a slip of the tongue. Unfortunately, my dear Megan has the penchant to date mean whose name's are connected to common genitalia or the disposal of thereof, I'm afraid."

"Like Peter," Viggo offered.

"And John," Ian added and both men grinned. "So out with it, Viggo, what do you really think about Meg's new man?"

Vig took a sip from his beer before he turned to face Ian. "Frankly, Ian, I meant what I said back with the boys, it is Meg's choice. But personally, I think Megan needs someone who shares the wild side with her. Peter," he grinned at that. "Is a mouse whereas Megan is a lioness in disguise. She either will frighten that little cunt or will become a little mouse, too, just to appease him."

Ian grinned at that. "I never saw her as a lioness but I like that particular metaphor."

"Any woman leaving Orli like that is a lioness, Ian," Viggo commented and Ian nodded.

"I had high hopes for those two, but that damn boy ..." McKellen shrugged and shook his head. "He was so full of plans when he would return to the UK. He even asked me if I'd mind him going out with Meggie."

"Well, the heart is a strange thing, we will never know where it leads us," Viggo said and both men nodded at that before heading back to the fellowship with drinks in hand.

Orlando watched his friends as he settled back against the rough bark of the tree. Jemma would have a fit when she saw the stains on his jacket but he didn't care, he had too good a time sitting, smoking and joking with his best buddies.

Billy had come over and sitting beside him, he nudged Orli playfully in his ribs.

"How are yae holding up?"

"Fine, Billy," Orlando answered and took a drag from his cigarette. "That boot camp was the best that happened to me in a long time."

"That, I see, no booze ... I'm impressed," Billy commented and raised his bottle of beer in salute to Orli. "I wondered if yae 'ad time to com' over to London at the end of the week. Lij and I wanted to go shopping and meeting up with the lass." Both knowing that Megan was the lass as Billy loved to call her.

"I can't, Billy, even though I'd love to. Jemma has something lined up for us ..."

"Pity, Megan would'a have loved tae see yae again." Billy watched Orli then shook his head. "She asked after yae, seems yae are not talkin' much anymore."

Orli shrugged, picking at the label of his bottle. "We're both too busy ..." he said, trying to appear unaffected.

"Aye, an' both unhappy," Billy said under his breath and Orli looked sharply at him.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just what I said. The lass leaving her boy friend behind to have fun with Dom an' me and yae turning up without yaer fiance, tells a lot, if yae ask me."

Orli closed his eyes and rubbed them tiredly. "How is Megan?" he asked suddenly, turning to face Billy.

"She is fine," Billy replied softly. "But she didn'a look happy, just like yae."

Orli smiled sadly and rested his head against the rough bark of the tree behind him. "I don't know what happened, one minute I was trying to get every thing straightened out and then ... Jemma was there and Megan seemed so far away ..."

"Yae ar' friends, not many can say that."

"Are we friends?" Orli asked, not only meaning Megan and himself but also the fellowship. "Fuck, the last couple of months I have been so wrapped up with my life that I didn't even keep up with you guys. You were all busy as well, you filming in England, Dominic doing the theatre thing, Viggo, Lij .. Ian ... Sean even producing two new movies..." he shook his head. "All I can come up with is an independent film, and the boot camp to Black Hawk Down."

"And a couple of very interesting articles in the gossip columns," Lij said and slumped down in front of Orli and Billy.

Orli smiled sheepishly. "Not much to boast about, eh? But I neglected all of you guys and that has to stop."

The men grinned at each other, all three knowing that they would hold him up to that promise.

Orlando came back to a dark hotel suite and an empty bed. On the bed he saw empty expensive looking paper bags with Givenchy and Oscar de la Renta emblazoned in gold and pink letters on it and for a moment Orli sighed.

Shaking his head, he walked over onto the balcony and sat down heavily on one of the loungers there. Cradling his head in his hands he tried to make his mind up whether to try to contact Jemma on her cell phone and ask her whereabouts or to just not care. She would return sooner or later.

He opted for the latter and after having shrugged out of the jacket he leant back, draped his jacket over himself and settled back for sleep. But somehow he felt too restless and checking his watch, he groped around for his cell phone and with this fingers poised over the dial pad he stared at it, a number dancing in his head, he had but all forgotten.

"Ssssssshhhhhhhhh," the sound came from the suite and Orli almost dropped his phone when he turned towards the noise. A woman was giggling inside, then a deeper voice was grunting and a thud could be heard.

"Shhhhhhh, I have to check if he's back or not," Orli could clearly understand Jemma's voice now.

"I thought you said he stays away all night when he is out drinking with his friends," a male voice answered with a heavy French accent.

Another set of giggles could be heard and Orli decided to make himself known. Standing up, he flicked on the balcony lights and watched his fiance necking a tall blonde guy in the middle of their bed room.

"Oops," Jemma breathed when she noticed the light and turning none too steadily she smiled at Orlando, though her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Darling, look who I have brought. This is my old time friend Antoine."

"I see," Orlando commented eyeing the couple suspiciously. He never had been prone to jealousy but seeing the two together, he couldn't help but notice they both had guilty expressions on their faces. With a shrug, Orli grabbed a couple of pillows from the bed and retreated towards the main living room area.

"Guys, I turn in, if you want to have fun, don't mind me." And with this he closed the door behind him and settled onto the couch.

The next morning was bright and sunny and Orli was awakened by the soft shrill of his cell phone. Grabbing the phone he had discarded on the coffee table beside him during the night he flipped it open.

"Yes?" he inquired and was wide awake when he heard Ian's voice through the phone.

"Orlando my boy, good morning."

"Hi Ian, how are you? You are up early," Orli commented and grinned, running a hand through his none existent hair out of habit.

"I wondered if you and the lovely Jemma would like to have breakfast with stuffy old me and Viggo," Ian asked.

"Sure I would love to come, but scratch Jemma, she came home late ..." Orli cursed silently, remembering he had told them Jemma had an headache and had to miss last night's junket.

"I see, so her headache had laid off after you were gone... oh well, it would be lovely to have you, Orlando, Viggo and I found this little cafe off the Crozet which serves wonderful brioches."

"Give me half an hour and I'll be there," Orli said and Ian had given him directions how to get to the cafe, he signed off and stood up.

When he went into the bedroom he found Jemma sprawled naked across the bed but no trace of 'Antoine'. Orli snorted and grabbed his favourite shirt and jeans before closing the bath room door behind him. After a quick shower he dressed and emerged fro the bathroom to come face to face with Jemma.

"Where are you going?" she asked, a pout on her beautiful, yet make-up stained face.

"Having breakfast with Ian and Viggo," Orli replied checking his purse before shoving it into the front pocket of his jeans jacket.

"I thought we would go shopping and have lunch later on," she cooed and put her hands on his chest. She wrinkled her nose when she spotted the yellow-beige striped shirt he was wearing. "Why don't you wear that nice black shirt I bought you."

"I'll wear what I like best and in which I feel comfortable in. Besides, I don't need to look like a model if I hang out with the guys," Orli replied and took her hands off him. "Why don't you ask Antoine if he goes shopping, you didn't mind last night that he was keeping you company."

"What is that supposed to mean, Orlando?"

"Just what I said, Jems," Orli shot back. "Look, I don't want to have a fight with you. Do whatever you want to do today, go out with Antoine, shag him ... I don't mind."

With this he turned and left a screaming Jemma behind, who - he had to admit - was quite inventive in the swear words she was hurling after him.

Breakfast with Ian and Viggo was a great feast. When I had come up to the little cafe, I could see them already sitting outside in the sunshine, Viggo his usual blonde Danish self again - though I still think he looks better as a brunette - and Ian with his beige straw fedora.

I felt happy to just slump down beside them at the table, drinking coffee, eating, smoking and just be myself. I think I have never eaten so much in my whole life for breakfast which went well into lunch time and beyond. Later on Elijah, Dom and Billy joined us with Christine and Sean closely behind. The only one missing now had been Megan and for a minute or two - though I guess my friends swear it would have been more than an hour - I felt sad that I had let the rift grow more apart between Megan and me.

All in all, it was great and peaceful and joyous and I made a mental note that I would never let myself be distanced myself from these great men and friends ever again.

Orli sighed and rubbed his neck absent mindedly. He was sitting in another transatlantic flight, this time from LA to Rabat where he would be picked up to be brought to the set of Black Hawk Down. He was looking forward to it, as he wanted to use the time to come to terms with his relationship with Jemma, if he could call it that anyway.