AN: Hey there, this is my second story and I hope you all enjoy it as much as my other one 'A Brother's Revenge'. This is a little different since it's a modern story and also because all the characters either have slightly different roles or motives behind their actions. I'm afraid Hector fans might want me dead for this but it should be interesting.

Warning: This is written mainly for my amusement.

Disclaimer: This story was inspired by many things. 1. The story of Troy (of course). 2. Fellow fanfic writer, mary-scot's story 'Echo' (wonderfully written. Go check it out. It's also in the Troy section on this site) 3. Hamlet (the modern version movie with Ethan Hawke in it.) 4. Meet Joe Black (another great movie starring the lovely Brad Pitt) 5. novels by Jackie Collins and Sidney Sheldon (though these are less strong of an inspiration).

Chapter 1

The late afternoon sun spilt through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, throwing bright rectangles on the smooth white walls, the lush white carpet, the white stucco ceiling and on the bed of white silk sheets where a tangle of lithe limbs were locked in passionate embrace. A blur of blond and chestnut curls could be seen amidst the tumble of flesh, and sounds of pleasure accentuated the drama.

Until at last, like every tale, a startling climax is reached. Helen fought to catch her breathe, straining to hold onto that memory of bliss. A smile of contentment crept onto her lips as she lay in his arms, her fingers entwined in his unruly brown curls. She burrowed her head into his broad chest and listened to the pulsation of his heart slowly decreasing in speed.

Making love to him was perfect because of one simple fact: He was perfect. Every feature on his handsome face, every inch of his toned body. Helen couldn't believe her luck when he showed that he was interested in her. She still couldn't believe her luck now.

---

Helen, like many before her, came to Hollywood filled with rosy dreams of lavish homes, expensive cars, fancy delicacies and, of course, fame and fortune.

However, her rose-coloured glasses were soon shattered, and her high dreams of becoming an actress was quickly replaced by the harshness of reality.

Even with all the money that she had saved up back home, she found prices to be atrocious in Los Angeles. She was lucky to find a cramped apartment room that was a twenty minute walk from the heart of Hollywood. The room cost her more than she made in a month back home, and was so small that it could only fit a small bed and a miniscule bedside table.

But Helen didn't mind. As long as there was a roof over her head and a place to sleep, that was all that she took it for. Because when Pandora opened that dreaded box, one solitary thing remained inside - hope, and it could arguably be the most abominable of all things that were contained in that cursed box.

For you see, with that lingering bit of hope dangling like a tantalizing morsel just before her, but entirely out of her reach, Helen decided, against all odds, to stay in Hollywood and aim for stardom. But what is a pretty face in a city that appears to know nothing but? Oh, terrible, horrible hope that kept poor Helen in this spiteful city of masks and lies! People put on one mask after another, stacked lies upon lies until they no longer know their own true face and their deceit rings true even to their own ears.

Helen rose early every morning and jogged for an hour before she groomed herself and spend the rest of her day at rehearsals if she was lucky, but usually waiting to be auditioned. Luck was thin in Hollywood, and in a short month, Helen found her wallet to be growing likewise.

It was on one such fated morning while she was jogging that she met him, ran into him literally actually. He was driving in his red Ferrari, she was distracted while trying to read a flyer for an audition across the road, the two collided and she fell onto the ground. Not because his car had made a hard impact on her, but rather because she was already faint with hunger after not eating for several days to save on money.

He had run out of the car, the dark, mysterious stranger with his dark glasses, smart suit, and charismatic concern. He treated her to breakfast, shown her around town, then drove her home, sweet words of regard forever pouring forth from his lips like nectar.

Helen had skipped merrily up to her apartment where she found her best friend since she came to L.A., Mark, waiting for her. When she first met the over-friendly Mark, she thought that he was hitting on her, until she discovered that he preferred the same sex that she did - male.

Mark was a small-time, bit-part actor who lived in the larger apartment across from hers. The difference was that Mark knew the right agents, lonely ladies yearning for a bit of pleasure, and he was always more than happy to satisfy them provided that they get him an audition and put in a good word or two for him.

"Oh, Mark! I'm so glad you're here! I think I've just met the guy of my dreams," she had gushed.

"So it appears," Mark replied dryly. He stared at her for a moment. "I saw him drive you home."

"Oh, yes, he is such a gentleman! He treated me to breakfast in this gorgeous four-star hotel, and drove me home in his Ferrari! I didn't think that anybody actually drove those!"

"Think again," Mark muttered.

Sensing her friend's displeasure, Helen reluctantly changed the topic and asked him what was wrong. "Listen, Helen, I know you're new here, so let me tell you a few things. First of all, do not fall for the charms of that guy who drove you home. Do you know who he is?"

"Well, he said his name is Hector..." Helen mused, rather enjoying the feeling of how his name vibrated in her mouth as she pronounced it. She clamped her lips shut and struggled to constrain the smile that was threatening to break onto her face.

"Right," Mark continued. "Hector. Hector of Troy Studio. You know all those billion-budget films with the likes of Brad Pitt and Orlando Bloom in it? You remember that display before movies saying 'A Trojan production'? He is the head of all of that."

"So...isn't that a good thing?"

"Helen, listen to me, honey, that's just the gloss. Hector is the biggest philanderer you'll every encounter."

"But, he can't be! He's so sweet!"

"Of course, he's sweet!" Mark exclaimed. "He's a womanizer! He uses women then leaves them."

"Oh, you're one to speak, Mark!" Helen retorted reproachfully.

"I know I have my faults, but I'm telling you as a friend, stay away from Hector. Although it might already be too late for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Did he drive you around town?"

"Well, yeah, I told him I was still rather new here and haven't seen much of the town yet."

Mark nodded knowingly. "Sounds like Hector's up to his old tricks again. He's marking his territory. He paraded you around town so that everyone would see you and realize that if they ever decide to approach you before he's done with you, they won't earn another dime anywhere in Los Angeles."

"Mark! You don't even know Hector. How can you say these awful things about him?"

"Because they're true, that's why!"

"Well, thanks for your opinion, Mark, but I'd judge Hector with my own eyes," she declared coolly.

"Your blind eyes," Mark had said as he left her apartment for the last time shaking his head at his friend's misfortune.

---

Helen frowned as her lover extricated himself from her arms. "Where are you going, love?"

"I promised Andromache that I'd be home for dinner tonight."

Helen felt her heart sink like lead. She wanted to cry. The questions that revolved in her mind time and time again surfaced vividly once more. Why was she tormenting herself so? Of all the men in the world, why did she have to be in love with a married man? Why did she have to be in love with a man who broke her heart every time he left her side? Why was she in love with him?

But that was just it. She loved him. It was completely irrational and illogical. It was the most dizzying, heady feeling in the world. She felt as if she was falling utterly and completely out of control, but she didn't mind because she knew that he would be there to catch her.

Perhaps that still doesn't explain why she loved him so much, but love is a difficult thing to explain. Abstract and vague. Love can mean so many things. It can create life, and it can destroy it. Poets have consider love the deadliest of all emotions. And who are we to argue with those whose mark has lasted for centuries.

Maybe the simplest way to explain why she loved him was because he was Hector, and there was something utterly undeniable about him. In this town where Hector was king, what Hector wanted, Hector got, and at the moment, he wanted Helen.

He buttoned up his black dress shirt and caught her watching him in the mirror.

"What?" he asked. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Have you talked to her yet?"

"Talk to who about what?"

"Your wife. About a divorce?"

His eyes narrowed. "Oh, that. No, I haven't. I've been busy with work."

"You're always busy with work!"

"If I'm not, do you think you'd be living in this penthouse right now?"

Helen sighed and drew spirals on the silk sheets with the tip of her manicured nail. "I just wish that you'd tell her. I wish we could stop sneaking around like this. Maybe I could help you with your work so that you can have more time."

Hector continued to finish dressing himself silently, watching in the mirror, the beautiful naked girl who looked like Aphrodite herself.

"Hector..."

He turned around and bestowed a gorgeous smile on her. The most brilliant idea had just entered his mind. He couldn't believe that he didn't think of it earlier. He kissed her deeply leaving her with a dreamy look on her face. "Maybe you can help me."

Hmm? What do you guys think? Please review!