Forward: This story is a Covenant fan fic, however it's definitely not your run of the mill plot. This story is inspired by the move 'The Beach' therefore; I have used a lot of themes from there but twisted it around. The movie, and the basic plot have inspired some quotes, names and settings. However, I am writing this in my own original way, and for those of you who haven't seen the movie and even if you have your still in for a treat. So I guess this is A Covenant/Beach crossover, I know, REALLY random, but I wanted to do something that nobody else has ever done before. This fic stars Reid, so Reid lovers I hope you enjoy! So far I do not own any characters except for the girl, who so far remains nameless. Reviews would be really appreciated! Thank you!
Chapter One: The Idea
"You're doing what?"
I looked at the three of them closely; they're all staring at me with dumbfounded expressions, like I was crazy, out of my mind.
"Yeah, and you can't change my mind guys, sorry." I replied.
We were all sitting in my living room, playing guitar hero. The three of them sprawled out on my couch, while I sit in my chair at the computer desk.
"Dude, you have got to be joking." My best friend Tyler says, tossing down his controller in defiance.
"I'm not. I've already planned the whole thing. Plane tickets, travel expenses, everything. It's done."
"So, you aren't coming to LA with us?" Caleb asks.
"Nope," I reply, sighing and putting my feet up on my desk. "I need a change. I need to go somewhere new, somewhere completely different. Get a taste for different things, you know?"
Their eyes sufficiently widened as they cast each other dubious looks.
"So where exactly are you going?" Tyler asks, speaking to me as if I'm clinically insane.
"Thailand." I state simply.
"Thailand?" He repeats, still staring at me with a shocked expression.
"Why Thailand?" Pogue asks me, it's the first time he's spoken since my big announcement.
"Because, I googled paradise and that's what came up."
The looks of uncertainty increase as they all stare at me, mouths slightly open. They look like a bunch of deer caught in the headlights.
"You're serious." Caleb says slowly. I nod.
"You mean, you just typed it in and voila? Now your running half way across the world because you think you can find paradise?"
"Pretty much, yeah." I ran a hand through my scraggily blond hair, making a mental note to get a haircut before I leave.
"So," Caleb interrupts. "When are you leaving?"
I smiled down at them wickedly, I love going for the shock factor. It really makes everything so much more worthwhile.
"Tomorrow," I say, waiting for the bomb to hit. "I'm leaving tomorrow."
--
"Mr. Garwin?"
I lift up my eye mask and stare at the woman addressing me. First class is always nice to travel in; you get the best-looking flight attendants.
"We will be landing shortly in 20 minutes," she smiles at me. "Here is your landing card."
"Thank you," I reply as she passes me the card. I look down at it with uncertainty. I hate filling these things out. She turns to go just as an idea crosses my mind. For a brief moment my eyes flash pitch black, and the stack of landing cards go flying on to the floor.
"Oh dear," she mutters, bending over to retrieve them. I get more than a good look at her ass as she does so. This was nice, no Caleb to reprimand me for using. I was all on my own now, ready to explore the great unknown. I might as well start my trip off with a little fun.
So the flight was boring. I drank cheap beer and watched stupid movies for a distraction, but now that I've finally landed, I'm almost not sure what to expect. I know I'm not going to find what I'm looking for right away, that at least is for certain. Things like paradise are difficult to find, and I'm not even really sure what I'm looking for. A place, a person, hell, maybe even a state of mind. But I know I'm not going back without a good fight in looking for it.
Outside of the sterile clean airport, I enter the heart of the city. I've got nothing on me except a map, my backpack and one suitcase. I packed light; but I'm hoping to return with more than the little I came with. It's nighttime in Bangkok, which means the city is in full swing. Flashing lights, honking cars, busy people brushing past me in a blur as I step out onto the sidewalk. I'm taken aback for a few moments, trying to absorb everything, but the sounds and lights are just too overwhelming. I steady myself, peering around until I spot a nearby cab driver that seems to be unattended. Seizing my chance, I hail him and run across the busy sidewalk and slide into the front seat.
He immediately must realize that I'm American, because he greets me in English.
"Yeah, so where you like to go?" He asks, beaming at me.
I think about this first before I answer him.
"Paradise." I reply honestly.
He looks at me for a brief moment, and then bursts out laughing.
"You Americans, very funny. Well, I don't know paradise, but I do know some good hotels. Yeah?"
"Good enough for a start," I shrug, grinning back.
The driver drops me off at The Dolphin. It seems to be a run of the mill, ordinary ritzy tourist place. I get out of the car and hand him 20 baht. 1 Thai baht 0.033001 U.S. dollars, so trust me, that's a very good deal for a 40 minute cab drive. I enter the hotel and make my way straight for the reception desk. A perky girl who has a phone tucked under one ear spins around on her chair to greet me.
"Sawatdee Kaa!" She greets me.
"Hi," I say, smiling. "I'd like a room please."
"Very well," she beams, switching to English.
"How many nights would you like to stay?"
"Uhh," I hadn't thought of this. "Two, for a now." I say, best not to tie myself down to one place only. This is just a starting point until I can figure out what to do from here. I purposefully planned this to be a spontaneous trip after all. "Okay, room number 456 is yours for two nights." She dangles a chunky key in front of me and I take it. Then, she passes me the information sheet and I fill it out. This is a lot simpler than back in the states.
--
I don't know what the driver was talking about when he said he knew good hotels, because frankly, I've never stayed anywhere less than 5 stars. But I'm not complaining, I really like my little room. It's got stained, ripped wallpapered walls, one double bed with flimsy sheets, and a small TV set. It's definitely a change from what I'm used to, but it's all part of the experience. The showers are located at the end of the hall, so after unpacking, I make my way for them to clean myself off. The shower was definitely a shocker from what I was expecting, but I sucked up, bit my lip and used it. Afterwards I walk back down the hall, wrapped up in my white towel, trying to shake the water from my freshly cut blond hair. And then, a lighting bolt hits me. Well, it might as well have been one.
At this point, I'm trying to jam my chunky fat key into the lock of my door, and it's starting to piss me off. I look up when I sense someone approaching. That's the thing about the power; it alerts you when something is about to happen. So anyways, there I am, in a white fluffy towel, trying to jam this stupid key into my lock and I see her. This girl, walking towards me from the end of the hall. I straighten up to get a better look.
Now don't get me wrong, I've seen plenty of attractive females in my life. Growing up in a preppy private school, I've had plenty of girls and plenty of action. I'm basically an expert in picking out a hot girl from a crowd. But this, this was different. She wasn't only hot; there was something about her. She was different from any other girl I'd ever seen. She was very tall, probably almost as tall as me, and I'm over just over 6 feet. Her bone structure was flawless, but her face wasn't perfectly processed with layers of makeup. It was tanned, sprinkled with freckles from the sun, as if she'd been lying on the beach all day. She had fierce green eyes and a smile that reminded me of the wicked witch from the west.
"Having difficulties?" She says to me, stopping in front of me. Her accent is hard to trace, it sounds very French but with a harsh, Irish sounding snap to it.
"I uh, yeah my key—" I stammer, taken off guard.
She smirks at me, god that mouth. Curving and red like blood. I realize I'm staring at her and not making any motion, so she grabs the key from my hand herself and turns it into the knob with ease.
"Et voila," she grins, flashing her very white teeth.
White teeth have always been a turn on for me, not white strip-bleached teeth, but just nice normal white. She's definitely French, seeing how she just spoke it.
"Merci," I grin back stupidly.
Wrong move, I shouldn't have spoken French. But she doesn't seem to mind, she just smiles at me serenely and then walks to the room next to mine and opens up her own door. I realize I'm still standing in a towel, staring at her. She shoots me a raised eyebrow and a quick smile before closing her door. I snap back to reality and enter my room, feeling like an idiot.
--
I'm laying on my bed, watching a stupid pay per view movie on my little TV set. I'm bored. I didn't pay hundreds of dollars just to travel half way around the world to do something I could be doing back at home. I feel a twinge of guilt and think about the boys back home, probably all getting ready to head out on the road trip that I would be missing out on. But the whole thing was just so predictable and boring. We'd drive around, get lost, meet a couple girls, get laid, get wasted every night, then go back home. Nothing new, nothing special…and that's what I wanted. Something special.
I got up and threw my jacket around my shoulders. I wasn't just going to sit around and rot on this trip. I went downstairs and up to the reception desk where I had just checked in only hours before.
"Excuse me," I say.
This time it's a different girl working there. She turns to me with raised eyebrows. Not very friendly, I think to myself.
"Do you where I can find a good local bar?"
"A bar," she repeated, as if I'm loony.
"Yes," I reply, short tempered. "A bar."
"Why not the one here?" She asks, pointing a figure down the hall.
"I want to get out and see the city," I say simply. She glares at me for a minute and then answers.
"Try the one on the West Street, it might suit you."
I'm tempted to yell back at her, 'and what do you mean by it might suit me?' But I think better of it and instead I thank her, and then hurry out of the hotel.
15 minutes later, I see the 'bar' that she sent me to. I'm standing in front of a place called "Patrick's Brews." The slogan for the dump is 'beer and broads.' I grin, that bitchy receptionist things she'll have a laugh sending me to some crazy Irish man's pub. Little does she know, it's just my kind of place. I walk in; the bar looks like something straight out of Constantine comic books. No, that the lame excuse for a movie staring matrix boy, I'm talking about the real, nitty gritty Constantine; crazy Scottish bastard, always smoking and drinking.
I head straight for the bar and order a shot from whom I can only assume is Patrick. He gives me a strange look but slams the whiskey down in front of me with a grin. He's missing a few teeth, how attractive. How this guy ever came to opening up a bar in Thailand's main party district, I'll never know. The place is nearly empty, except for one guy who I see sitting a few seats away from me. He's yelling at the top of his lungs, obviously sloshed out of his mind. Still, what he's saying grabs my attention. He kind of reminds me of the time Tyler drank a whole bottle of Jack Daniel's. Not a pretty sight, but still fucking amusing as hell.
"I tell yah Patrick! These fucking bastards have got everyone fooled! Wool over the eyetooth, all that fucking jazz. You hear what I'm saying man? Complete fucking parasites. They think they've found heaven! Bah!" With this last remark he spits loudly on the floor and looks up. His eyes lock directly on mine for a moment, but then he turns back to the bartender.
"I fucking tell you what Patrick, none of them have got a right fucking state of mind. A bomb could drop 10 feet away but as long as it didn't fuck up their precious little haven, they wouldn't even blink an eye. Fucking parasites!" He yells again, taking an enormous swig of his drink.
"Calm down there, Daffy." Patrick says, shaking his head as he wipes out grim from a shot glass. I quickly give my own an inspection, hoping that he cleaned it before passing it to me. The man—Daffy—turns to me, he looks completely crazy. I gulp back my shot and then glare back at him with a challenge.
"What you drinking there laddie?" He asks, still staring at me.
"Whiskey," I reply, my gaze fixed.
"Good fucking choice." He says approvingly. I grin back.
"Patrick! Bring this boy another shot will yah? He looks in need of it."
"Thanks," I say as Patrick hands me another one. I feel the bitter sour mash burning down my throat, but I'm used to it. Didn't grow up in Ipswich and learn to drink for nothing.
"So what brings yeh' t' Thailand lad?" He asks me.
"In need of a change," I say with a shrug.
"Bah, not much of a fucking chance you'll find change here. Everything here is just a whole load of codswallope. You hear me?"
"I hear you," I reply earnestly, and chink my shot with his.
"What I'm really hoping to find is something unexpected."
He looks up at me suddenly, a sharp gaze coming from his scared looking face.
"Unexpected eh? You better be careful boy."
"I know it sounds stupid," I grin, chugging back the rest of my liquor and slamming my glass down on the table. "Another one will yah? Anyways, I know it sounds stupid, but I'm hoping to find something. I want an adventure you know? I don't even know what it is I'm looking for, but I want to find true paradise."
His eyes widen slightly. I sense something in his eyes, fear perhaps? I'm not sure. Then he starts to laugh.
"Boy, it's hard to fucking find."
"No shit," I reply, as Patrick passes me yet another shot. He slides down a few seats so he's sitting next to me. He reeks of liquor and cigarettes. Constantine like indeed. He could probably play the part, I think absentmindedly. He's got the swearing Scottish voice and everything.
"What's your name lad?"
"Reid," I reply, moving back slightly as my nose get's a sample of his breath.
"Reid. Huh. That's a fucking weird name."
"Thanks," I grin, slugging back the whiskey.
"So Reid, you want to find paradise do yah?"
"Yeah." I reply honestly. He pauses for a long moment, seemingly thinking deep off into space.
"You got anything to smoke boy?"
"No," I say, frowning.
"Well that's good, cuz' I've got loads of the fucking stuff."
A few moments later, we're outside the back door of the bar and he's lighting up a big fatty. Never seen a joint that big wrapped so tightly since Aaron Abbot's birthday party 2 years ago. Ours fell apart of course, but Daffy's is holding together like a pro. He takes a long hit and holds back the smoke in his lungs, still not saying a word. He passes it along to me and I toke back in earnest. It's the best tasting weed I've ever sampled. I cough slightly as I blow it out. It's been a while.
"So, paradise." He says again with a frown.
I grin. "I don't mean the kind you get from being high."
"Neither do I," He says quietly, there's seriousness in his voice that almost scares me. "What would you do boy, if someone told you they knew how to get there."
"Get where?" I ask, passing him the joint.
"Paradise." He murmurs thoughtfully.
"Well, I'd ask if they were fucking crazy for starters." I laugh.
"Hah, crazy. What does anyone know about crazy anyways?"
"Well," I say thoughtfully. "Some people have theory that it's the crazy people who really know the whole truth to this world. They've seen things that nobody else has, that kind of thing."
"Now that's a very good theory." Daffy says, billowing out smoke.
"You think?" I ask.
"Yeah, I do. What about you Reid? You like that theory?"
"I'm not sure," I say, frowning. "It's just a theory after all, no proof to back it up."
"No proof?" He says, his voice raising. "No proof? Tell you what boy. I'm fucking living proof right here. I've seen things, things that you can't possible imagine."
"No offence or anything," I say softly, feeling much lighter as the high hits me. "But you're out of your fucking mind, aren't you?"
He lifts back his head and roars with laughter.
"You bet your ass. You would be to if you'd seen all the fucking parasites." He laughs again, and then looks at me seriously.
"I'll tell you what boy. I'm going to give you something."
"Okay," I say, puzzled. "What is it?"
"This here piece of leather," he says, pulling out a battered, folding piece of cloth.
"But you have to fucking swear something to me first," he says, glaring at me. "You won't fucking open it until tomorrow morning. All right?"
"All right," I reply.
"You fucking swear it?"
"I swear it." I say, giving him a boy scout's salute.
This guy has got to be out of his fucking tree, he's as nutty as they come. But still, this trip is all about taking chances and going beyond the norm. So I take the piece of worn out leather, and as promised, I tuck it into my jacket and leave it there, unopened. We head back to the front of the bar and I'm about to open the door for him. He shakes his head.
"I've had enough for tonight lad," he says quietly. He pauses, and frowns slightly.
"It's been nice knowing yah Reid," he grins and turns.
I watch him walk down the street as he lights a cigarette, the smoke covering his head completely in the foggy Thailand night. I wait until he's completely vanished from around the street, and then I hail a cab to take me back to the hotel. I don't even think about the piece of leather tucked into the folds of my jacket the whole ride home. And I don't think of it for the rest of the night. Not even in the morning, until I turn on the local news, where they're showing a report about a suicide case. A man in mid 40's, Scottish decent going under the name of 'Daffy', found dead with wrists cut lying in a gutter a few blocks away from Patrick's Brews.
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