Someone Out There Loves You

*Gerard POV*

It was just one of those days. Nothing had gone terribly wrong, nothing crazy or dramatic had sidetracked me or distracted me. Chloe had gone off to work in a pleasant mood, managing a smile, before she kissed my cheek and walked out of our apartment with the promise of bringing home a take out on her way home. Things were good. They should have felt good. Most days they did, even. Life was better than it had been for…well, ever. This day was just one of those where I felt a lingering feeling of frustration, with a healthy dollop of foreboding that something disastrous was heading my way. It felt like another down period was on the horizon, and that day I didn’t have any energy to try and fight it.

I was out of the game for months now. I was starting to make a bit of a name for myself among people in the art community, and though commissioned artwork wasn’t something I envisioned myself doing for money, I was (quite surprisingly) getting by. I wasn’t earning a lot of money, by any means, but certainly enough to pay my end of rent and contribute to things like bills and groceries. Chloe had tried to insist that she could cover things like bills, but in the end I won the argument. She was a truly stubborn woman, but she wasn’t a match for me when I was determined to get my way. When she refused to take my money, I resorted to lodging it into her account myself. She was pissed by the invasion of her privacy, since it involved finding her account information through stalking through her bank receipts, but I had earned her forgiveness through sexual favours, and generally letting her get her own way for the following fortnight. It was battle I had won, though not without a lot of sulking on Chloe’s part. I think she soon realised that I needed to contribute, even if I was only bringing in a few hundred dollars every couple of weeks. Commissions were picking up, though. I had a new piece to finish every two weeks or so. I had enough time to fine tune the comic book I had been working on for the last number of years. I had somehow managed to get a meeting to pitch it with a publishing house, something I never thought would happen. Chloe had pushed me to send it in, literally. She had forced me to post a copy of it in, old school style, in a ridiculously large envelope. It had been six months before I got a call back, asking me to come in to formally pitch the idea in person. I had all but given up hope by then, but the phone call had ignited the familiar excitement and fear that went with pitching. If it went well, I could finally achieve my lifelong dream. If I failed…well, then I would meet with failure once again. It never got any easier, and somehow I had a feeling that this rejection would be more painful than all the others combined. It wasn’t just my hopes that were pinned on it. Chloe was right behind me, and as weird as it may sound, I knew my disappointment would be hers too. I doubt she would show it, but deep down, she would see me as a failure, just like my ex from college had, all those years ago. This wasn’t my first attempt at pitching a creation of mine, and I could only hope that I had learned from my mistakes in previous pitches.

I went over my prepared speech again, using a pen and paper instead of my laptop, to write and make corrections. Writing in ink made it seem more real, and it had a calming influence on me. I could see the mistakes I made more clearly, and the scribbles and crossed out words highlighted the process in action. I tried to remind myself that this wasn’t the be all and end all. If I didn’t get this, there would be other opportunities, and other publishing companies that could take interest. I just prayed that the pitch itself would go smoothly, no matter what the outcome.

**

“Well, Mr. Way, I must admit, I’m quite impressed. How many years have you worked on this?”

I had reeled off my speech, and now I was left to field questions from one of the guys in charge of commissioning new comics, John Smith. I guessed he was around fifty or so, but he seemed like a guy who acted far younger than his years. His Armani suit gave his wealth away, though. He was new to the industry, having bought into the company only months before, and this was the first pitch he was sitting in on. There were two other men in the room, I couldn’t remember their names, but they didn’t speak during the entire time I spent in the room.

“About five years, give or take.”

“I can see you have a well planned out vision. Tell me, how many volumes would you foresee this spanning into?”

“As of right now, there are three volumes of eight planned out, but there’s potential for more.”

“Good, good. Well, Mr Way, we’re going to go over all the information we have here, and we’ll be in touch in due course. You’ll hear from us, either way. Thank you for coming in today.”

“My pleasure.Thank you for the opportunity,” I replied automatically, thankful that it was over. There was nothing I could do now but, wait for them to make up their minds.

“I’ll walk you out, Mr Way,” Smith stood up, walking out from behind his desk and leading the way out of the boardroom.

He walked me down the hall, making idle chit chat. He asked if I had studied art, and where. He seemed like a nice guy, and I think I made a good impression. We were at reception, saying a final goodbye, when I heard the sound of a familiar voice reach my ears. I stiffened, rigid and cold.

“John, I was dropping by to see if you were free for lunch!”

Gillian’s slim frame, and immaculate appearance, was right in front of me. Her eyes gave me a quick once over, but she didn’t acknowledge me.

“Gillian,” John’s voice was friendly, and he brought Gillian into a polite hug, followed by a kiss on the cheek.

“Gerard, I’d like you to meet myfiancé, Gillian.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Gerard,” Gillian simpered, holding out a perfectly manicured hand for me to shake.

My brain was on autopilot, paralysed with shock and panic. This was bad. Any other client, I would be certain they would keep quiet. They all had as much to lose as I did, for the most part, except for Gillian. Gillian was a vindictive person, who hadn’t been too pleased when I had informed her that I was no longer providing my services anymore. Would she stoop low enough to ruin this chance for me out of some need for revenge, or even just forthe sick pleasure of destroying someone’s chance at finally making a chance for themselves? I think it was a possibility.

“I’m afraid I can’t do lunch today.Gerard’s pitch overran a little, and I have a lunch meeting with Cartoon Network in half an hour.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright,” she smiled, entirely false and insincere.

“Well, goodbye for now, Gerard. You’ll be hearing from us shortly,” John held out a hand for me to shake, which I returned dumbly.

“Thank you, again, Mr Smith,” I smiled weakly.

I gave a curt nod then walked away as quickly as I could, without appearing suspicious or deranged. I was out of the building before I let my body shake and tremble, all the adrenaline coursing through me was going straight to my head, making me feel light-headed, and a little dazed.

“Gerard!”

I heard her voice, cool and crisp, cut through the busy city street. My blood cooled, and boiled, at the same time. She caught up with me, surprisingly quickly for a woman who was wearing four inch heels.

“Gillian,” There was no point running away, or avoiding her. I knew I was fucked.

“What a wonderful surprise to see you again. Who knew you had talents outside the bedroom, huh?”

My jaw clenched, my teeth grinding together as I fought to control my anger. I didn’t have to put up with this anymore.

“What can I do for you, Gillian?”

I didn’t hide my anger, or distaste, at her presence. Her eyes narrowed, before a sly smirk curled at her lips.

“Now,Gerard, there’s no need for that. I quite enjoyed our time together, and I thought maybe we could be of…use...to each other. But let’s not discuss that here. How about we go for a little lunch, huh?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Gillian. I’m in a relationship, so I don’t think I can be of much use to you.”

She gave a little laugh, a cold, calculated giggle that wasn’t pleasant.

“I don’t give a shit about your girlfriend, Gerard. Let me make myself clear – this isn’t a negotiation. I can make things very difficult for you. Do you think any company would align themselves with an ex prostitute, once it got out? It’s hardly going to look good for their image, is it? And, believe me, once John finds out, everyone in the industry will be told about you. So, before you get on some kind of moral high ground, how about you think about what it is you stand to lose, huh? I’m just asking for a last goodbye, since you cut me off without any warning, and John really isn’t much of a substitute, as good as he is. I’ll even pay you, which I think is quite generous.”

I couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. I watched her dig into her handbag, and pull out a card. I was stunned into silence, my eyes watching every little movement, from the way her long fingers dipped into her designer bag, to the way they clutched the paper card with a firm hold, to how her hands didn’t even shake as she held the card out to me.

“I’ll give you a day to think about it. Here’s my card.Call me when you make the right decision!”

She smirked, then planted a kiss on my cheek, before her high heels clinked their way down the sidewalk, and stepped inside a waiting limousine. I waited until the vehicle pulled away before I looked down at the card, my lip curled in disgust. Never, in all the countless possibilities that had gone through my mind about how this day would go, did I ever imagine my past would come back to haunt me in such a terrifying way.

**

“So, how did it go?”

Chloe’s voice was full of happy enthusiasm as she came bounding into the apartment, a box of Japanese take out in tow. She looked a little tired, and her make up was a little smudged, but she still looked good. Her hair had stayed neat in the bun she has hastily styled it into in the morning.

“It went okay,” I told her.

I knew she wouldn’t leave it at that, though. It was too big a deal for her to drop it. I didn’t want to lie to her, but telling her the truth didn’t seem like an option either. There was a part of me that acknowledged that not telling her could blow up in my face. But, I also knew just how insecure Chloe was. If I told her about Gillian, I knew it would eat away at her. Chloe, to my complete surprise, had never thrown my past back at me. It was something we never brought up, and even in the heat of an argument, it was one line she never crossed. It was just an unspoken rule – we didn’t talk about my sexual history, or about my time as a hooker. I told her certain stories, but without a lot of details. For her, it was a case of what she didn’t know, couldn’t hurt her. She dealt with my past by not dealing with it. She remained blissfully ignorant, and I wholeheartedly encouraged it.

She looked at me expectantly. I could see the happiness ebb away from her eyes, as disappointment quickly filled the void it left. How could I tell her that my chance of achieving my dream was now destroyed because of an old client?

“I…I don’t think it’s going to go forward,” I explained, and in nervous agitation, I began to bite my fingernails. Chloe put the box down on the table and joined me on the couch.

“Oh,” there it was, the disappointment I'd dreaded hearing, “What happened?”

We had been together for the best part of seven months, and yet it still surprised me when I heard Chloe speak in that tone of voice. It was soft, concerned, almost motherly. It physically hurt to see the look on her face, the one that tried to hide her feelings of sadness.

Should I tell her? Would it make things better, or worse? I couldn’t believe that telling the truth about Gillian would do any good.

“Nothing. Pretty standard pitch.Nothing went wrong. Just…I’m not gonna get my hopes up.”

A little smirk formed on her face, and she joined me on the couch.

“I’m sure you did wonderfully, Gerard. Your talent for comics is only exceeded by your wonderful movie taste and star wars trivia knowledge.”

“Is that actually a compliment?” I couldn’t help but smile.

“I know! Who knew I was capable of such a thing? Miracles can happen.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with Chloe?”

“Don’t worry, she’ll be back soon to remind you that you still haven’t taken the garbage out. I know you’re worried about your fingernails chipping, but that shit needs to be done.”

“Do you know how long it took me to get them looking this good?”

“Unfortunately, yes. You used all of my nail strengthener polish in the process.”

“You know you love it when I have pretty nails.”

“I love it almost as much as I love your secret love of country music.”

“Backstreet Boys,” was all I needed to retort, before my arm was in receipt of another one of Chloe’s punches.

“Never speak of that again.”

“It’s okay.Your love for Nick Carter will never leave this room.”

“Damn right!Or I’ll destroy your Eddie poster.”

“You really are evil.”

“I fight dirty,” she shrugged, flashing me an evil smile before pulling out the white boxes filled with noodles. She handed me one, followed by a plastic fork.

“I really am proud of you, Gerard. I don’t say it a lot, but I am. I know you’re going to get this, Gerard. You worked too hard for it to go wrong now.”

The words struck me, hitting me hard with surprising force. I didn’t respond, and the rest of the evening was spent mulling over her words.

“Will I put your pants in the laundry?” Chloe asked later that evening, now dressed in a tank top and shorts. She held up my suit trousers from earlier with one hand, the other cradling the laundry basket to her side.

“Sure,” I replied distractedly, my gaze focused on the television.

If I’d been more aware, I would have remembered that Gillian’s card was in those pockets as Chloe rifled through them to make sure they were empty before they went into the wash. Things might have turned out very differently, otherwise.

“Who’s Gillian?”

Her tone was deceptive. She sounded calm, laced with curiosity, but one look at her, and I knew she wasn’t nearly as calm as she tried to appear as she held the small card in her hands.

“She’s the fiancée of the guy I pitched for today,” I told her with indifference, hoping she would take what I said at face value.

“Why did she give you her card? Is she an old client or something?”

“Chloe, I-“

“Why did you take her card, Gerard?”

“Chloe, you’re overreacting. I was being polite; it doesn’t mean anything.”

I knew I said the wrong thing.

“Well, excuse me for not being ecstatic that my ex hooker boyfriend has an old client’s card in his pocket; a client who happens to be connected with the guy who may or may not publish your comic, no less. Isn’t that just a big coincidence?”

“What exactly are you implying?” I asked, standing up.

I wanted her to say it. I could see her connecting the dots, see her mind putting two and two together. In the back of my mind, I waited for something like this to happen. I’d waited for the day when my past would finally be thrown back in my face, for it to skew Chloe’s view of me and trump anything I would say to defend myself.

“Did you fuck her to get the pitch?”

“And what if I did, huh?”

I was angry, hurt, and not thinking clearly. I should have just told her no, called her a few names and then waited for her to apologise, like she would have done. Everything was crashing down on top of me, and it fuelled my desire to be self-destructive. My dream was once again about to turn to nothing, and for what? To remain faithful to a woman who doubted my monogamy?

“Fuck this,” I seethed.

I grabbed my coat, keys and my phone, ignoring Chloe’s tear-filled eyes watching me. She didn’t utter a sound, didn’t try to stop me as I stormed out of the apartment.

That was the first of the mistakes I made that night. The next one was going to the bar and drowning my sorrows with a few beers. The one after that was checking my phone, and finding I still had Gillian’s number stored on it. Turning up at her apartment an hour later was probably the biggest one of all.

“Scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours. I’ll make sure you get your comic, and we keep this quiet. Understood?”

I nodded, barely getting a chance to take a breath, before her mouth crashed against mine.

Notes

I apologise for the delay in this.

I also apologise to the all you readers who probably hate me right now.

Lyra xxx