In Review of Life
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,269
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,269
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is work of fiction! I do not know the celebrity(ies) I am writing about, and I do not profit from these writings.
In Review of Life
In Review of Life
By I.e.
Somewhat a follow up to the New Yorker is pretentious... not really...
Oh fuck this.
I stand in the doorway and watch as cigarette smoke slowly swims it’s way to the ceiling. Orli’s smoking. He hasn’t stopped smoking for three days. Three days after the premieres, three days after his movie opened and three days after the reviews. I knew I was stupid to think that all this could be resolved over a phone- or through a nice shag between press conferences and television spots. I say “Fuck ‘em all- what do they know?” and all he can say is “What if they’re right?”
I have to think about where I’m going to take this- do I act like a hard-ass and tell him to grow up, or do I coddle him into laughter and happiness. Neither approach seems to work, so we’ll have to wing this. Be nice, but take no prisoners.
“Orli?”
“Hmm?” I can’t tell if he’s paying attention.
“Are you gonna do anything today?” I ask the mean question as nice as I can.
“Nah… I need a break,” His reply is sort of muffled, and I realize he’s laying on his stomach with his head buried in the pillows. He really is trying to dig a hole and bury himself.
“What about Sidi, he’s needs a walk, yeah?” I try again. I leave my perch and sit on the coffee table in front of him. The mid-morning light hits my face directly, and I too want to hide.
“He’d like to go with you. I’m no fun today Cols,” he replies moodily, taking the last drag off his fag. He holds it until it’s burned halfway through the filter. God, I can’t take his moody crap anymore.
“Get up,” I tell him.
“What?”
“You heard me,” my voice drops an octave and into a low growl. I must look pretty serious because he complies, however slowly and unwillingly. I take his dead fag and extinguish it in the ash tray.
Alright, first things first, “Where are your cigs at?” The question confuses him. He shrugs vaguely towards the mantel. I grab the cursed things, open the window and throw them out.
“Hey! What the fuck?” He yells at me, grabbing at the window in a vain attempt to regain them.
“No Orli,” I snarl, “You’ve had enough,”
“Really!?” He’s taking this further than I thought, “Like you can fucking talk! You smoke like a chimney,” He wrenches himself from my grasp and stalks into the little kitchen.
“I’m a smoker- you are a sometimes smoker who is smoking out of depression and who needs to get the fuck over himself!”
“Excuse me?!” He shouts incredulously. He takes a deep angry breath, and I can see the hairs on his neck stand up.
“I think I have a right to be upset. I’m screwed!”
“What?! You think your film career is over because of a couple bad reviews?” Oh bollocks, is he serious?
“Maybe! This was supposed to be a chance at a serious film and I fucked it up- big time! What if I can’t recover from this? You have no idea what it’s like,” He shrieks at me. His beautiful Canterbury accent has been mutated into a truly ugly snarl.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” I quip back angrily.
“You don’t care about whether or not you fuck up! You don’t care if you never become respected actor- you’re happy just to party it all away,” Orlando roared, his hands soaring through the air to hit the refrigerator so hard it opened. I could hear Sidi whimpering in the next room over. What a prick. Shit. I suck in my lips, absolutely infuriated. Count to ten I remind myself. Count to ten before you crack.
“You never do any worthwhile work, so when it ends up tanking, you don’t care!”
“You fucking piece of shit!” I yell, pushing him roughly against the refrigerator so he bangs his head. He moans in pain but I ignore it. Instead, I grab his shoulders and give him another shake.
“What! You think you’re better than me? Huh?” I snap, “ You think I’m a worthless actor is that it, babe?” His face crumples up at the sarcastic endearment.
“Well honey, I know more about all this than you do. I’ve suffered reviews before, but I have never, not ever, seen someone so self-involved that they cannot let it go, and take it like a man,”
“I’m self-involved?” He howls, “What about you?”
“What about me?” I ask, giving him another shove.
“You cannot even remember to call me, let alone be bothered to spend time with me! I’m the one who arranges everything, who hopes that one day Colin Farrell will fucking wake up and notice me!” He’s trying to push me back.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“One day, you’re sweet and cuddly, or you do something so romantic it’s all I can think about for days. And then I don’t hear from you for a week. It takes a whole day to get you on the phone, and another day to even see you! Then we have sex, and pretend to talk. I’m tired of being your toy Colin, I can’t just be there whenever you want! I want to be around all the time, but you can’t be bothered to love me,”
“I love you! Don’t you ever fucking question that!”
“You say it but you don’t mean it!”
“Oh, so you know what I think, huh? I think and feel a lot more than you realize, Orlando,”
“ Then why don’t you tell me?!”
“Because you can’t listen!” I push away from him. Both of us are breathing heavily. I back away from him slowly. What kind of monster has he become? He won’t look at me.
“Is this what you’ve become? Some sort of beast?” I murmur coldly. His ears pick up at the last word.
“I have been in love with you from almost the minute I met you and since then all you’ve ever done is break my heart,” He screams murderously. I can’t think anymore- this is too painful.
“Well then, I guess we shouldn’t be together- I should stop bothering you with my poor skills and my cruelty towards your heart,” My voice cracks and I tell myself not to cry. If he’s not hurting, neither shall I.
“Guess so,” He snarls back.
I nod, and pick up my jacket and keys. “Good,” is all I can say, and I’m gone. We have confirmed our darkest fear… that we are not meant to be together, and that our time is temporary. If this is right, then fuck… why am I crying?
By I.e.
Somewhat a follow up to the New Yorker is pretentious... not really...
Oh fuck this.
I stand in the doorway and watch as cigarette smoke slowly swims it’s way to the ceiling. Orli’s smoking. He hasn’t stopped smoking for three days. Three days after the premieres, three days after his movie opened and three days after the reviews. I knew I was stupid to think that all this could be resolved over a phone- or through a nice shag between press conferences and television spots. I say “Fuck ‘em all- what do they know?” and all he can say is “What if they’re right?”
I have to think about where I’m going to take this- do I act like a hard-ass and tell him to grow up, or do I coddle him into laughter and happiness. Neither approach seems to work, so we’ll have to wing this. Be nice, but take no prisoners.
“Orli?”
“Hmm?” I can’t tell if he’s paying attention.
“Are you gonna do anything today?” I ask the mean question as nice as I can.
“Nah… I need a break,” His reply is sort of muffled, and I realize he’s laying on his stomach with his head buried in the pillows. He really is trying to dig a hole and bury himself.
“What about Sidi, he’s needs a walk, yeah?” I try again. I leave my perch and sit on the coffee table in front of him. The mid-morning light hits my face directly, and I too want to hide.
“He’d like to go with you. I’m no fun today Cols,” he replies moodily, taking the last drag off his fag. He holds it until it’s burned halfway through the filter. God, I can’t take his moody crap anymore.
“Get up,” I tell him.
“What?”
“You heard me,” my voice drops an octave and into a low growl. I must look pretty serious because he complies, however slowly and unwillingly. I take his dead fag and extinguish it in the ash tray.
Alright, first things first, “Where are your cigs at?” The question confuses him. He shrugs vaguely towards the mantel. I grab the cursed things, open the window and throw them out.
“Hey! What the fuck?” He yells at me, grabbing at the window in a vain attempt to regain them.
“No Orli,” I snarl, “You’ve had enough,”
“Really!?” He’s taking this further than I thought, “Like you can fucking talk! You smoke like a chimney,” He wrenches himself from my grasp and stalks into the little kitchen.
“I’m a smoker- you are a sometimes smoker who is smoking out of depression and who needs to get the fuck over himself!”
“Excuse me?!” He shouts incredulously. He takes a deep angry breath, and I can see the hairs on his neck stand up.
“I think I have a right to be upset. I’m screwed!”
“What?! You think your film career is over because of a couple bad reviews?” Oh bollocks, is he serious?
“Maybe! This was supposed to be a chance at a serious film and I fucked it up- big time! What if I can’t recover from this? You have no idea what it’s like,” He shrieks at me. His beautiful Canterbury accent has been mutated into a truly ugly snarl.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” I quip back angrily.
“You don’t care about whether or not you fuck up! You don’t care if you never become respected actor- you’re happy just to party it all away,” Orlando roared, his hands soaring through the air to hit the refrigerator so hard it opened. I could hear Sidi whimpering in the next room over. What a prick. Shit. I suck in my lips, absolutely infuriated. Count to ten I remind myself. Count to ten before you crack.
“You never do any worthwhile work, so when it ends up tanking, you don’t care!”
“You fucking piece of shit!” I yell, pushing him roughly against the refrigerator so he bangs his head. He moans in pain but I ignore it. Instead, I grab his shoulders and give him another shake.
“What! You think you’re better than me? Huh?” I snap, “ You think I’m a worthless actor is that it, babe?” His face crumples up at the sarcastic endearment.
“Well honey, I know more about all this than you do. I’ve suffered reviews before, but I have never, not ever, seen someone so self-involved that they cannot let it go, and take it like a man,”
“I’m self-involved?” He howls, “What about you?”
“What about me?” I ask, giving him another shove.
“You cannot even remember to call me, let alone be bothered to spend time with me! I’m the one who arranges everything, who hopes that one day Colin Farrell will fucking wake up and notice me!” He’s trying to push me back.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“One day, you’re sweet and cuddly, or you do something so romantic it’s all I can think about for days. And then I don’t hear from you for a week. It takes a whole day to get you on the phone, and another day to even see you! Then we have sex, and pretend to talk. I’m tired of being your toy Colin, I can’t just be there whenever you want! I want to be around all the time, but you can’t be bothered to love me,”
“I love you! Don’t you ever fucking question that!”
“You say it but you don’t mean it!”
“Oh, so you know what I think, huh? I think and feel a lot more than you realize, Orlando,”
“ Then why don’t you tell me?!”
“Because you can’t listen!” I push away from him. Both of us are breathing heavily. I back away from him slowly. What kind of monster has he become? He won’t look at me.
“Is this what you’ve become? Some sort of beast?” I murmur coldly. His ears pick up at the last word.
“I have been in love with you from almost the minute I met you and since then all you’ve ever done is break my heart,” He screams murderously. I can’t think anymore- this is too painful.
“Well then, I guess we shouldn’t be together- I should stop bothering you with my poor skills and my cruelty towards your heart,” My voice cracks and I tell myself not to cry. If he’s not hurting, neither shall I.
“Guess so,” He snarls back.
I nod, and pick up my jacket and keys. “Good,” is all I can say, and I’m gone. We have confirmed our darkest fear… that we are not meant to be together, and that our time is temporary. If this is right, then fuck… why am I crying?