In Review of Life

I glance at the clock on the cluttered bedside table. It’s what, 9 here, so it would be what, in Hawaii? Aw, who the fuck cares? I pick up the phone and dial the next number in my book.
I woke up at six this morning. I’ve never been able to sleep long if I go to bed after two. I dragged Orlando up, and shoved him into the bathroom. We didn’t say a word to each other all morning long. I can’t tell if he remembers much of last night. I remember every fucking detail. Orli was still limping when we walked out.

“Hullo?” A groggy, male voice answers. It’s a light voice I hadn’t expected to hear.

“Uh, hi,” Very eloquent Johnny, “Uh… yeah, Is Dom there?”

“Yeah, hold on a minute please,” the stranger is strangely polite. I hear a soft, “It’s for you honey,” before I can hear Dom’s breath.

“Hello?”

“Hey Dom, this is Johnny Depp, from well, you know,”

“Hi there,” He replies awkwardly. We’ve never met.

“Uh, well, I need to know if you know what’s up with Orlando. Uh, Orlando Bloom,” I ask. I don’t sound too smart.

“No, don’t know a thing,” He says bluntly. He says something incomprehensible to his sweetheart.

“So…” He fills the silence that followed his answer.

“Well, see I thought you and him were close friends,” This is not quite the reply I was hoping to get. Dom doesn’t even sound interested in what might be the reason for my call.

“We were, but, we had a fall out,” I can’t tell if he likes telling me this or not.

“Can I ask why?”

“Have you talked to him about it?” He counters politely.

“Well, no, but he’s in trouble and I’d like to find a friend who could clue me in,” I reply.

“Shit,” he sighs, “It’s just that… his career took off, mine didn’t. He’d talk about all the fantastic things he’d get to do and I couldn’t take it. I asked him to stop, but he got offended because he thought I wasn’t happy for him,”

I know what that’s like. It’s hard to deal with Vanessa when she gets depressed about her own career.

“It was just the way he said it, I mean, not like it he did it on purpose,” Dom clarifies. He obviously feels a bit bad about what happened. Shit. So Orli hasn’t dealt with fame quite as well as I had hoped he would.

“What kind of trouble is he in?” Dom asks quietly.

“I’m not exactly sure. That’s what I was calling for,”

“Oh. Try Eric Bana. He might know,”

“Yeah,” If Orli hasn’t pushed him away too.

“If you need anything, well,” His proposition is awkward. I don’t think any of us know how to handle this situation.

“Thanks,” I answer softly. The phone clicks off. Dom probably gets back in bed with his lover. Looks like Orli might be in this one his own.

I go into the bathroom ad brush my teeth. I fuss with my hair for a minute before I give up. I open up the blinds and feel an immense amount of sunshine hit my face. What a beautiful day it is. I stand there and let the sunshine seep into my veins. I wonder if Derek called Orli this morning, or what he did when Orli came home. I pull on some PJ bottoms, grab the bisquick out of the kitchen and head over to Orli’s. There’s nothing like pancakes to soothe a hangover.
I try not to think of what I’m going to say to him. Each version twists until it’s completely defunct. This is like being in the wings during a play. You try not to think of your lines because you already know them.
Orli’s gate is open. I don’t even bother to knock this time. I can’t risk an unwelcome reaction from Derek, who I still haven’t figured out how to deal with. The classy house is quiet. Sunshine leaks through the closed shutters. The morning paper lays forgotten, unopened on the kitchen table.
I find him on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He hasn’t changed out of his clothes.

“Hey,” He murmurs sleepily. His doe eyes stare at me warily. I know then that he remembers last night.

“I brought over pancake mix, so get up,” I say this as cheerily as possible. He slowly pushes himself off the bed. I go downstairs while he changes. No sign of Derek anywhere. I make the pancakes as I wait.

“Mmm… something smells good,” Orli tells me as he marches down the stairs. He’s donned a pair of sweatpants and a baggy tank top. I quietly flip the pancakes as he shuffles about the house, trying to reorganize it.

“Where’s Derek?” I venture quietly.

“Oh, he left a message,” I want to ask if that bothers Orli, but now’s probably not the time. He lays out plates and silverware, pours milk for him and juice for me. We eat in silence for awhile, picking at the newspaper. We’re a dull couple.

“So, tell me,” I say bluntly, trying to fill the silence. I shove more pancake in my mouth to keep from being embarrassed.

“What?”

“About Colin,”

“What about him?” He’s avoiding this line of questioning.

“Okay,” I comply, as he wishes. Then a thought strikes me.

“Okay, why not tell me about Dom?” He sits up and looks at me, surprised. Yes, time act the bastard.

“No,” he says carefully. His fork dangles a few inches from his mouth.

“Okay, what about Derek, hmm? Why are you dating that loser?” I carry on, feeling an attitude well inside of me. His fork hits the plate.

“Johnny…” He pleads.

“Why did you let him fuck you like that?” I stare at him, hard. He shies away, blushing furiously.

“Johnny, no,”

“What happened to you? Since when did you start fucking yourself up on blow?” I continue, my voice sounding nastier. The question bites him.

“Fuck off,” he snarls at me, and I’m reminded of a wounded animal.

“What happened to you?” I say this as neutrally as I can. He won’t reply.

“See, I want to help you Orli. Really I do,” I say softly, reaching out my hand for him. I end up stroking the table cloth, I haven’t the courage to touch him. He’s shaking violently.

“I’m your friend Orli. Don’t ever think I’m not. I just need answers if I’m going to help you, assuming you want it,” I tell him comfortingly.
He settles visibly. I pick up my fork and continue eating. So does he. We finish breakfast, he washes the plates. I pad over to the door in my slippers, and turn to see him with his arms crossed, a thoughtful expression on his face. He looks upset, like he might cry, so I have to force myself to leave. The door shuts with a foreboding click.
Immediately outside I freak. I was such an asshole to him! What if he won’t come to me? Fuck. I hope he’ll grow up. I hope he wants to save himself. I hope this works. I reach my own door and vow to call Vanessa as soon as I’m in. After I take a piss. And then I’m gonna stand in the sunlight a little longer.

Thanks for all the reviews! I.E