Chapter 70: The Absence of Someone

"I hope you're all in the mood for some serious drinking," Rainier says as he pours drinks for his guests. After his game went gold and he got in a few days of solid sleep, he decided he needed a change, got the mess his hair was becoming cut back into something more manageable, and bought a condo in Santa Monica. A risky thing to do, given that the game hasn't been released and may not bring the money he anticipates having, but Rainier was never one to shy away from risk. Except one, he thinks, and tries to shake off the thought of her. August dwindles and September looms just days ahead, with October and their birthday following on.  It's not long to wait, he tells himself, as long as she doesn't meet some new guy when she starts college, and forgets about him...

The two couples gather in his living room with their drinks, and Rainier starts to prepare dinner, but is interrupted by his phone.

"Rainier," she says his name, and he can hear the smile in her voice.

"Hang on," he says to her, "Dag, shoes off my new furniture," he calls out over the counters.

"Are you having a party?" Portia asks when he returns his attention to his phone call.

"If you can call it that," he answers, "It's just two couples."

"And what about you, no date for your own party?" she teases.

"I'm saving myself for someone special," he teases her back.

"So special that you can't invite her to your party?" she says, a bitterness underlying her joking tone.

"Portia," he sighs, "You know we can't see each other socially until..."

"Not even around other people?" she asks, "Or are you embarrassed about being with me?"

"You know it's not like that," he says, "You're more mature than at least half the people here tonight. I want you to be here, more than anything, chère."

"Then why aren't I there?' she asks.

"Because we made a deal, and I'm trying to stick to it. But if you want to come, come."

"No," she says, "Forget it. I'm sorry I called." And then she cuts off.

Rainier returns to making dinner for his guests. He'd already been failing at putting her out of his mind enough to entertain his guests, and her call and its bad ending crushed any possibility of that happening. 

Over dinner, Rainier and Dag tell Stina about their plans for a new game, about dating, shopping for clothes, and furnishing your home. "We were hoping to take you on as a consultant for this project," Rainier concludes.

"Really?" she asks, "I've got school starting up again in  few days..."

"We won't need you to come in on any set schedule," Rainier says, "Come into my office this week and we can talk terms. I don't want to turn this party into a business meeting."

"Dude, what's up?" Coby asks him, "You've been kind of down all night."

"I'm fine," Rainier says.

"You know you haven't made a single smart ass comment all night? You are not fine. You're hardly even here, and this is your party."

"I'm just...torn up about her. I want her, I'm ready to spend my life with her. But she's so young, and I feel like such a fool to be so crazy about her."

"Okay, yeah, I know where you're coming from," Coby says, "Just, go for whatever makes you happy. Don't over think it. You'll make yourself crazy."

Rainier smiles, lifts his glass to Coby, "I'm having a hard time picturing you over thinking anything, Sheffield."

Coby laughs, "There's the smart ass. I knew you were in there somewhere."

After his guests leave, quiet falls over his apartment. He's lived alone long enough that he should be used to it, but lately, the silence feels more and more like the absence of someone who should be there.

"I know it's late," he says when she answers her phone, "I hope I didn't wake you."

"I'm up," she says, her voice wavering, "I'm glad you called. When we talked before..." she trails off, choking away a sob.

"Are you crying, chère?" he asks gently.

"No," she says, and then sobs again, "Maybe a little."

"Merde," he breathes, "I didn't mean..."

"I just felt so bad about the way I hung up on you. You were right, we have a deal. I shouldn't have pushed. This waiting is just so hard."

"Je sais," he sighs, "Tu me manques. I wish you were here, so I could hold you, kiss your tears away."

"Me too," she says, "But just your voice is enough to make me smile. I'll just have to imagine the rest."

Just  little over a month to wait, he tells himself as he falls heavily into his bed, his arm reaching out for her as sleep takes him. She's not there now, but soon...

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Check out the Breaking Immersion section for some pics of Rainier's new apt. I didn't build the building, but I gutted the original interior and spent hours decorating. And I'm really happy with it.

Chapter 69: The Desired Results

"Astrid? Really?" Regan asks, bumping into him outside the studio offices.

Of course, it would be more than just Tori who would learn of his very public and publicized affair.

"It's not--" he starts to explain, but she throws up her hands and walks away.

"Regan, wait," Gavin calls out, following her. "Let me explain..." He reaches a hand around her shoulder, trying to make her stop walking away from him.

It works, more or less, as she spins around to face him, her eyes brilliant with anger. "Explain what?" she hisses, "You know what Astrid is. How could you be so stupid?"

"I know," he says, "It was just the one time. Tori and I have been having problems, and..." at this point Gavin realizes his explanation isn't going to sound any better than she thinks is going on.

"So you figured fucking that cunt in public was the solution to your problem?" she asks, "You're pathetic!"

"I don't understand why you're so angry at me, Regan," Gavin says gently. He hasn't had a chance to talk to Tori since the pictures of him with Astrid came out, but he can't imagine his girlfriend being more upset about it than his friend apparently is. "It's not like I cheated on you..."

Her lower lip trembles, just a little, as she stares at him. "You're right," she says, dejected, "What you do is none of my business, right? I thought you were better than this, but I obviously just didn't know who you really were."

She turns and walks away again. He calls after her, weakly, and this time does not follow, stunned by her reaction to his infidelity to another woman.

He has to face Tori that afternoon. He doesn't really hear half of what she's saying, his mind is on Regan, her disappointment in him. It hurt more than any insult Tori can hurl at him.

"Look at me!" she screams at him, bringing him back into the present. "I asked you how you could do this to me."

"Things just haven't been right between us lately," Gavin says weakly.

"You're trying to blame me for your cheating?" she asks, her voice level and cold, "I'm sorry, Gavin, but you just aren't worth my time anymore. I'm done with you."

And there, the desired results of his behavior. But the feeling of freedom is overshadowed by what he lost to achieve it, a friend and his own self-respect.

"There's my darling boyfriend," Astrid coos, waiting for him when he returns to his house. He lets her in to avoid a scene in front of the paparazzi lurking around his gate.

"Look, Astrid, I'm not in the mood for your games," he says when she tries to caress his face, "It was just one night. We're done."

"Okay, listen up," she says, dropping the pretense of affection, "I don't know what you think was going on here, but understand this: you do not get to fuck me and dump me. Not after our pictures have been plastered on the tabloids. You may not like me, and  certainly don't like you, Gavin, but we are a couple."

"Astrid, that's--" he starts to protest, but she cuts him off.

"I'm not looking to be your wife," she says in disgust, "This relationship will end, don't doubt that. But it ends on my terms, when I've gotten what I want from it. I'm not going to be just some two bit actress you screwed once and dumped, got it? We're going to go out and be seen together, and you're going to be head over heels for me. After this film is wrapped up, we'll break up."

"Why would I agree to that?" Gavin asks.

Astrid rolls her eyes, "Because if you don't, I go to the papers and tell them how you drugged me to get me to go home with you, and I'll tell them all about the sick, perverted things you did to me, and what a monster you truly are."

"But I didn't--"

"Try telling that to the papers, Gavin," she says, "Neither one of us can prove our side, and my story will always be out there, hanging over your head like a cloud. Every time people see you or hear your name, they'll be wondering if it's true."

Gavin hangs his head, not seeing anyway out of this one. Astrid smiles, gloating. "Now, get ready," she says, "We're going out tonight, to be seen. I want you to look good."

Chapter 68: Threshold

"Uptight bitch," he growls, pushing down against the hood of car, still warm from the drive back from the gallery.  She struggles beneath him, trying to shove him off her, but he's so much stronger than she is, and holds her down easily, opening her legs to press himself against her as he leans down to scrape his teeth across her neck. 

She tries to hold it back, but a moan of deep pleasure escapes her lips, and trapped beneath him, she rocks her hips against him, expecting him to take her here, on his car parked in their garage.

"You like this?" he growls in her ear, menancing, and then pulls away from her, grabbing her arm to lift her off the car, "This is just the start." He gets behind her, pushing her forward as he pulls her arms behind her back and walks her back into their house. Her heart beats wildly now, hovering on the threshold between fear and excitement. She has no idea what he has planned, he could do anything to her...

Inside the house, he tears her clothes off, clothes he'd bought for that morning for this gallery show. On abrupt shove has her bent over their dining table. He pulls her arm back again, holding her prisoner as he shoves himself roughly inside her.

It was a month ago when she told him she wanted this, and he said nothing in response. She thought maybe it was too much, even for him. But, he'd obviously filed it away in his head, waiting for the right time to give it to her. 

Despite having wanted it, asked for it, he makes the fear real, and that fear thrums though her desire, so that she trembles, losing her balance as she climaxes, falling into him. He catches her fall, supporting her as her legs give way beneath her.

"You're almost too good at this," she sighs when he lifts her up, as tender now as he was rough before, "I was actually terrified of you for a moment there."

"It's not easy," he says, "When you know how to stop me with a word."

It's true, she thinks. She's never had to use her safe word while they indulged in their games; he has an excellently tuned instinct for when it's enough, and has never pushed further than she cared to go, always stopped just as she's reached the edge of what she can handle, leaving her both satisfied and wanting more. She did use her safe word once, when she walked in on him brushing his teeth. He stopped immediately, like a Pavlovian response, she thought, and looked at her quizzically, toothbrush suspended in his jaw, and waiting for her permission to continue.

He carries her to their bed, lays her down and lies beside her, holding her.

"Did you plan this all along?" she asks, caressing his chest, toying with his nipple rings, "Or was this an impromptu performance to distract me from asking you about what happened tonight?"

"Yes," he says, leaving her unsure of which question he's responding to, "Why can't you just leave the past alone?"

"Because sometimes I feel like you're a stranger," she says, "I know almost nothing about you."

"You know what's important."

"It's not enough. I want to know why you stole that woman's money, why it was so important for you to get out of New York." He doesn't respond, he just pulls on her hair as she pulls on his nipple ring. "I'm not letting this go, Justin," she says firmly.

"All right, princess," he says, "I'll tell you the story."

"Lance and Jacob were pretty boys, art students. You know the type. I was 18, and had just gotten into doing shows in fetish clubs. That's how I met them. There weren't so much into the scene as they were curious, excited by the danger. They saw my show, got up the nerve to talk to me, and before the night was over, I got a place to stay with them, rent free. Their roommate, Alison, wasn't too thrilled by this, but she didn't kick me out."

"The game started accidentally. We were out one night, walking from one bar to another. I stopped inside a bodega for cigarettes..."

"You smoked?" Eleanor interrupts.

"I did. Quit when I moved to L.A.," he says, and then carries on, "Lance and Jacob were waiting for me outside. When I came out, they were being harassed by some tough guys looking to beat up on a couple of gays. They had no idea what they were in for. I took them both down, gave them a beating like they'd never had before. That was the first time. After that, the three of us would go out to the kinds of seedy straight bars where guys like that hung out. I'd wait outside, and Lance and Jacob would go, and just be themselves. It never failed, someone, sometimes  group of them, would follow my boys out of the bar and try to beat up on them. Instead, they got me."

"That's kind of heroic," Eleanor sighs.

"I wasn't doing it for them," Justin says, "I was using them as bait. And if I ever got taken in one of those fights, those two were dead."

"Did you ever lose a fight?"

Justin thinks back, and is surprised to realized that in all the fights he'd been since his first schoolyard brawl, he'd never fallen, not once. "Never," he says.

"Most of the time, it was more than one guy. They tend to move in packs. But this one night, it was just the one. I was disappointed, because I liked taking on two or three at a time. One guy wasn't much of a challenge."

"But, something happened during that fight. There's always a rush, you know? But I always knew when to stop, when I'd beat the guy down and finished him. That night...I didn't stop. I had him down, he wasn't getting up, but I kept at him. I knew I was going too far, but I couldn't stop myself. Even Lance and Jacob could see I was losing control, and it scared them."

"It was Jacob that got up the nerve to try to stop me. Lance was a wreck by this point."

"Jacob grabbed my arm, and I...I turned on him. Grabbed him by the neck, pulled him off the ground. That got Lance off his ass, he was crying, begging me to let Jacob go. I don't remember how they talked me down, but I did come down before Jacob got hurt. The guy, the one I'd beat on, he was unconscious. We ran, leaving him there. I don't know what happened to him. Lance and Jacob were afraid of me now, and I was afraid of myself. I'd lost control, for the first time since...well, I lost control, and that was enough. I couldn't stay with them any more, even if they couldn't get up the courage to tell me to leave. And the guy I beat up, it had gone way beyond a bar brawl. If he lived, and I don't know that he did, Elle, he could identify me to the cops. And I wasn't going to jail. While Jacob and Lance slept that night, I took their rent money and Alison's car keys, and left. I abandoned the car halfway through Connecticut; it was a piece of shit, anyway, and by morning the cops would be looking for it. I cut my hair, changed my last name, and moved on."

Eleanor lays quietly beside him as he finishes his story.

"Am I less of stranger to you now?" he asks her.

"No," she says, "You're still a mystery. But I'm glad you told me."

He lets that sit for a moment, and then asks, in a voice so low it's almost inaudible, "Do you still love me?"

"Yes," she says, without hesitation, "Whatever you've done in the past, that won't change. I want it all, tiger, I want all of you."

Chapter 67: Lose Yourself

"You're breaking our date so you can hang out with a bunch of actors?" Tori shrieks when Gavin tells her of his change in plans.

"It's not 'hanging out', it's an actor's workshop. I need to do this, Tori, for the role you wanted me to take."

"It's always something," she complains.

"Tori, can we just get this over with?" Gavin sighs.

"Get what over with?"

"If you're gong to break up with me, just do it," he says, "There's no point in dragging it out any longer."

Tori groans and slumps into a barstool. "I don't want to break up with you," she say, "Why would you say that? Do you want to break up?"

"I--no, of course not," Gavin says.

"Good," Tori says, smiling as she leans over the bar for a kiss, "I'm sorry I get so upset with you. I know you have to do these things for your career, I just miss being together."

As she leaves him to get ready for his workshop, Gavin realizes it had been him all along. He thought she was the one that wanted to leave, but now that she's assured of him of her intention to stay, he's not happy, not even relieved at the news. 

"What exactly do you do in these workshops?" he asks Regan as they approach the apartment building.

"We practice scenes from plays. And then we discuss each other's performances."

"Like a critique," Gavin says. He's been through hundreds of those in his years of art schooling. But those were for work he was confident in presenting. "Regan, I don't know if I can do this. Perform in front of strangers..."

"That's pretty much all acting is," Regan laughs, "But you don't have to perform tonight. We'll just watch. It's probably better they get to know you a little before you let them critique you. Otherwise, the resentment might color their opinions."

"Resentment? What are you getting me into, here?"

"You're a movie star that can't act his way out of paper bag," Regan says gently, "These are theater people; you are their natural enemy."

"Maybe I should get out now," Gavin says, only half joking.

"Don't worry," she says, taking his hand and squeezing it, "You've already won me over. I'm sure you'll have them eating out of your hands in no time. Just be yourself."

They have no sets, no costumes, but they make their scenes come alive without props or staging. Drawn into their performance, Gavin finds himself transported to another time and place. 

"They're so talented," he whispers to Regan as the scene concludes and he's brought back to this living room in L.A.

"You can be, too," she whispers back, "You just have to lose yourself in your character."

"Where did you get your first tattoo, then?" Stina asks as Gavin settles in to be inked. He'd asked Stina where she'd gotten her tattoos, since he wasn't familiar with the ink shops in L.A.

"Glasgow," Gavin answers, "I was visiting relatives. My cousins got me drunk and we all went out and got tattoos. Good times."

"I was thinking about changing my hair, "Gavin muses when the inking is done, "Any suggestions?"

"Sure," Stina says, "But what's up with you, Gav?"

"I just need some kind of change."

"That's cute," Stina appraises his new hairstyle, "It's not what I'd expect from you, but it looks good."

"That's the point, to be something different," Gavin answers, "So, Stina, how do you go about breaking up with someone?"

"Well, you could start by passive-aggressively getting a tattoo and haircut your girlfriend will hate, and hope she does it for you?"

"That's not--" Gavin protests. Stina raises and eyebrow at him. "Okay, you got me," he admits, "I'd rather she did it. But if she doesn't...I've never done this before. I don't want to hurt her."

"It's like pulling off a bandaid," Stina says, "It's going to hurt. But you can't go around with and old bandaid stuck to your ass forever.  Just pull it off. Get it over with."

"Namo Amida Butsu," Tori intones, ending the chant with a laugh, as she sees Gavin's new tattoo for the first time.

"I wanted to get more in touch with my spirituality," Gavin explains.

"You could come to temple with me and my parents."

"I don't think..."

"I was joking," Tori laughs as she settles back into the hot tub, "They hassle me enough about you as it is. If you started coming to temple with us, they'd start making wedding plans."

"Stina took me out to her favorite ink shop," Gavin says, hoping the mention of his ex-girlfriend will get a rise out of her, "And then we got my hair done."

"It's different," Tori says, "But I think it suits you."

Gavin sighs. He's failed to provoke a fight, and finds himself unable to just come out and end it while she's being so nice and understanding. He's going to have to do something much more drastic to make her leave him.

"So I told him to just get it over with," Stina finishes telling Coby about her afternoon with Gavin while she stirs the mac'n'cheese.

"How do you do that?" Coby asks, "Just hang out with guys you dumped, like you were never more than just friends?"

Stina shrugs, "I just do," she says, "Kind of like the way you're BFFs with the guy that stole your girlfriend."

"I'm not BFFs with French," Coby says.

"You so totally are," Stina laughs, "Unless he's finally managed to seduce you and you've upgraded to lovers."

"Dude, what is it with you two? You're like evil twins or something."

"Usually there's one evil twin and one good one," Stina points out.

"No, you're both evil," Coby laughs.

"Oh, shit! Fuck!" Stina exclaims, pulling the pan of burnt noodles off the stove.

"I burnt it!" she sobs, "It's ruined!"

"Baby, it's just mac'n'cheese," Coby says, "We can order a pizza."

"But I wanted to make dinner for you," she says, tears flowing.

"Hey," he says gently, caressing her cheek, "You don't have to do that, okay? It's sweet that you want to, but that's not what you are."

"Now, let's go out and get a bite, and then come back here and make love all night."

"I'm not really all that hungry," Stina says.

"Me neither," Coby says, lifting her up and carrying her to the bedroom.

All her attempts to get Carey Burden into her bed have failed; the stripper/actress got to him first. So Astrid turned to plan B, getting the star of the movie. Being seen out in public with either one of them would be a major boost for her career. Having had Gavin before, she knows he's not the cheating type, so she expected to have to really work it to pry him away from his girlfriend's arms, but when she suggested he meet her for drinks at the Cube, he agreed right away. He even flirted with her. Something is up with Gavin, he's changed, she thinks. Whatever he's going through, it's none of her business, as long as it gets her where she wants to go.

"I'm surprised you're so willing to be friends with me, after our somewhat dramatic break up," Astrid says.

"I don't hold grudges," he answers, "It's bad for the soul."

"I'm also surprised you aren't out with your lovely girlfriend tonight," she continues, "Is there some trouble there?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he says, "And I don't want to talk about our past, either. Tonight is just...tonight."

After an hour or so of casual flirting. Astrid thinks she measured him up, what he wants, what he needs, and she prepares herself to play that role. "We met too early," she says, "I wasn't ready for you back then. And now...now I want you. I want you like I've never wanted anything, but I'm afraid I hurt you too badly to ever get you back again."

"Astrid..." Gavin starts to back away, feeling bad about what he was planing to do here.

"No," she says, putting her finger to his lips, "Don't say anything. Either kiss me, or walk away. I can't bear this doubt for another second."

Gavin is long past the point of believing anything Astrid says. He knows what she wants, and he knows that giving it to her will also get him what he wants. So he kisses her, passionately. The paparazzi are all over this club, so he makes a show of it, pressing himself against her, fondling her breasts.

Anyone who sees these pictures will have no doubts that he and Astrid are lovers.

Taking her home with him isn't strictly necessary, as the paparazzi won't be photographing this, but Gavin has committed himself to this path, and breaking up with Tori will be easier when he knows he's guilty of cheating on her.

Gavin normally likes to have his lovers spend the night with him, to sleep curled up with him and wake up to make love again in the morning. But that's the last thing he wants from Astrid, and as soon as they've finished, he hurries back into her clothes and out of his house.

"I'll see you on set," he says, watching her go.

He has changed, Astrid thinks, glancing back at him, not at all sure of what she's achieved this evening. She meant to use him to get herself in the limelight, to have the kind of media buzz that would get her better roles. She has no idea what Gavin wanted from her, but for the first time, she feels like she's the one that's been used. It's not a good feeling.

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There are some more pics in the Breaking Immersion page.
Also, I have a new story blog: Summerdream