DISCLAIMER:I do not own, or have anything to do with Orlando Bloom or anyone/anything associated with him. Somara, Raina, Sarina, Kaila, Debbie, and Charlie belong to me.
Learning to Live Again
Disclaimer: I do not own Orlando or anything associated with him, but I do own Kaila, Debbie, and Charlie. Enjoy! ;) I do not own Ra or their AWESOME song "On My Side"; I also do not own Garth Brooks or his songs "Learning to Live Again" or ìEvery Now and Then.î NOR do I own SEETHER ((Don't I wish!)) or their BEAUTIFUL SONG ìThe Gift.î GO GET THE NEW ALBUM, it ROCKS! Also: This is my dreamland version of LAÖIíve never been there, nor do I know a thing about it. This story is just for fun. ;)
Summary: He's lost himself in a sea of fame. She's lost everything she's ever had. Can a woman from his past and down on her luck make him remember who he really is and get back on her feet at the same time?
Rating: PG-13.
Part Three:
Paints A Picture
ìHey, Orlando!î Some random blonde girl shouted out to him: the fifth one in as many minutes. She waved and sent him a wink, and he played back, as was his custom with the ladies, but this morning it felt only half-hearted. He didnít even pay attention to where he was walking; it seemed to him that he should wander the streets aimlessly until he was mugged or until he would check into a hotel for the night. It had seemed like a good enough plan until he saw the bookstore across the street and three buildings over. Sandersonís.
Orlando checked both ways for traffic, and then sprinted across the street along with five others in suits ñ probably on their way to the office ñ and two others in jogging outfits. Once those two crossed the street, the man took the womanís hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it before continuing their run. Orlando frowned. How he wanted that!
He sighed as he stopped at the window and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He hadnít been in a bookstore in ages; not since Kate had thrown away his copy of What Is The Night?, one of Kailaís stories, and threatened to throw away everything else Orlando owned that was written by her if she didnít get more of his attention.
Kaila.
He wondered if she had gotten anywhere with her search for a new publisher. He hadnít seen or heard from Kaila in a long time, and after the breakup with Kate, he had tried to call her, but sheíd moved and left no forwarding number. He didnít know if he cried more for the loss of his fiancÈ or for the loss of his best friend.
Orlando didnít know how many times heíd cursed himself for falling out of touch with herÖor for breaking her heart so long ago. He knew that if he told her about Kate sheíd give him an ëI-told-you-soí look, but hold him close as he vented or cried: whatever the case might be. He entered the store quietly, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible.
Upon quick inspection of the store, it registered that this was one of those Mom-and-Pop shops that always got booted out of business by the bigger, corporate version of their store that goes in a block away. Orlando had always liked these stores better; the people were friendlier and generally seemed to want to help people out, while the chain outfits only cared about when their next paycheck was coming from the main office.
ìCan I help you?î An elderly woman asked from behind the counter, a wide smile on her face. The nametag on the green apron she wore read ìElaine.î
ìYea, I, umÖIím looking for the newest book written by Kaila Morgan. Díyou have any of her stories?î He inquired as he stepped up to the counter. He squeezed the edge of the counter with one hand, and rocked back onto his heels.
The old woman smiled. ìOf course we have her stories. Trouble is sheís only put out four of them. The last one was a short story, so itís in with a collection of other works from her publishing company.î
She walked over to a shelf on the wall and picked up the book she had mentioned. ìCravingsÖThis is it,î she handed the book over to Orlando and looked him over quickly. ìYouíre Orlando Bloom, arenít you?î
He looked up from the bookís back cover and met the old womanís eyes. ìYes, maíam.î
ìI thought so. My granddaughters are just in love with you,î she chuckled. ìWould you mind signing a couple of magazines for them before you leave?î
Orlando gave his best false smile. ìOf course, I would love to. Iíll be back to the counter in a moment.î The old woman nodded, and Orlando turned back to the book. The copyright date on the back of the book caught him by complete surprise.
ìWait a moment,î he called out, and the woman paused. He took the few steps over to her and pointed to the date. ìThis book was published in 2001. I wanted her newestÖî
ìThat, young man, is her newest. She was not retained by her publisher after that was released. Damn shame if you ask me. That girl has talent,î the old woman grumbled as she turned and walked back to her place behind the counter.
Orlando could only nod. ìYesÖYes she did.î
Ö
Debbie pulled her cell phone out of the abyss she called a purse as it rang for the third time. She had always said that she would ignore it until the voicemail picked up if she was out on an errand, but she hadnít been able to do that yet. Chances were that whoever was calling her knew that, too. She flicked the cell phone open and hit the ëTalkí button before holding it to her ear. ìHello?î
ìDeb?î A male voice came over the other end of the line.
ìHey, Charlie, how are you babe?î Debbie couldnít help but try to engage in idle conversation as she looked in the shop windows for a new evening outfit for herself and for Kaila. She walked by clothes store after clothes store before she stopped in front of Sandersonís. This had always been she and Kailaís favorite bookstore, and Debbie relished that she would be able to go back in time as she entered the store. It had always reminded her of simpler times.
Always ready to deter Debbieís attempts at small talk, Charlie laughed. ìIím good, Deb, listen. I was wondering if there was anything I need to bring over to the apartmentÖ?î
Debbie shook her head. ìNot unless you went off of the list. Kaila is, at this moment, soaking luxuriously in the bathtub with her Cucumber Melon bubbles, and will likely be there for another hour. As for myself, I am at Sandersonís to find a little inspirationÖî As soon as the words slid off of her tongue, she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her.
The man at the counter handed the elderly woman behind the counter, Elaine Sanderson, a twenty dollar bill, and she handed him a book after slipping the receipt inside the cover.
ìHave a great day, Mr. Bloom,î Elaine said with a smile as she picked up a pair of Rolling Stone magazines with Orlando on the cover of each. He had barely made it past her when Debbie started after him out of the store. Charlie was trying feverishly to get her attention for something over the phone, but Debbie had only one thing in mind.
ìCharlie ñ I have to call you back, love. I just found something very much off the list! Loveyoubye!î
Debbie flicked her phone shut and stuffed it into her jeans pocket. She had thought that he was someone else when she walked into the store, but now, after seeing those lush brown eyes and chin-length, bouncy hair, she knew that this would be the greatest present she could ever give her friend.
ìOrlan-! Debbie cursed herself for nearly yelling out the manís name in public. She doubted he would have ever forgiven her if she had done it. She kicked herself mentally and shifted her packages from Foleyís onto one arm before she began to jog after him. She caught him within a short distance and smiled at him as he looked up from the book he had purchased at the bookstore. Debbie looked down at the book he was holding and smiled even wider. ìI thought that was you in the bookstore, Mr. Bloom.î
Orlando sighed, wondering when all of the fan girls would get off of his back. ëAfter Iím dead,í came his mindís own reply.
ìDonít worry, I donít bite,î Debbie continued. ìListen, Orlando, can I talk to you for a moment?î
Orlando frowned, ìI donít know, Iím kind of busyÖî
ìDoing what? Moping around L.A.?î Debbie laughed as she rifled through her purse while walking. ìOrlando, I promise. Itíll be worth your time.î
He gave Debbie a sideways glance as she pulled a photo out of her purse with a flourish and held it out in front of his face. He snatched the photo from her outstretched hand and gazed at it wide-eyed. ìYouÖthis isÖandÖyouÖî His eyes danced wildly from Debbie, to the photo, and back again. ìYou know her? You know Kaila Morgan?!î
ìKaila? Of course,î Debbie pulled Orlando off to the side of the shops and out of the way of the flowing pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk. ìOrlando, I live with her.î
Orlandoís eyes suddenly peeled off of the photo and looked at Debbie. ìHere? In Los Angeles?î
Debbie nodded. ìHere, in Los Angeles. And I am throwing her somewhat of a party today. Are you interested?î She raised an eyebrow at Orlando as he stared longingly at the photograph. In the middle was this woman, whoever she was, to her left was a man he didnít recognizeÖbut none of that mattered. The photograph was from a Christmas morning where the three of them were sitting in front of a large, well-decorated Christmas tree, ripping open their gifts. Kaila was to this womanís right, holding up none other than all three Lord of the Rings movies, Black Hawk Down, and Pirates of the Caribbean.
With his eyes as wide as silver dollars, he nodded furiously and nearly shouted only one word in response. ìYes!î
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