Upstaging Illusion

Chapter One

A white mountain of fur suddenly slashed through the bushes. Nikki screamed. Ewan leapt to his feet. The polar bear stomped over Eko's body, not harming it at all. It hurried towards the group of four, claws pounding in the dirt.

"Run!" Ewan heard Paolo yell at him and Desmond who were still frozen in fear. Ewan tugged at Desmond's arm and pulled him to the left, the way he thought Nikki had run.

He yanked on Des' wrist harder as he dashed through the jungle, pushing branches out of his way with his free hand. His heart was thumping wildly at the combination of two things--his fear of the polar bear and the thrill of squeezing Desmond's hand in all the rush. He wasn't sure why that got him so nervous. He was just pulling Desmond to safety--just trying to protect him. So was Desmond's blistered hand all he could think about?


He tugged on her hand playfully. He could feel the light, May breeze tickle the scalp between his spiky, ginger hair. He still held his Midsummer Night's Dream script in his free hand. The pages crumpled with nervous, spotlight sweat flapped freely in the wind.

He had dragged Ayla from rehearsal and told her he had a surprise waiting for her. He had led her all the way to the beautiful, hilly landscape about a mile behind the theatre. Their feet were tired, but the excitement of the secret location kept them going.

"Ewan McGregor!" Ayla tried to sound scolding over the wind.

"Hmm?" Ewan turned round with a childish smirk, his eyebrows raising.

"You DID NOT!" Ayla was out of breath as she stared wide-eyed at the large hill they were coming upon. At the very top of the hill, a red, plaid blanket was neatly spread out with a basket, a bottle of champagne and two glasses sitting on top. "You WERE listening when I told you about the hills," she laughed.

Ayla pulled back on Ewan's wrist and stopped him from drawing her up to the top. She grabbed hold of his hands and pulled him close for a kiss. "You are so sweet…" she shook her head. Ayla warmly embraced him and whispered, "This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me."

Ewan pulled away and smiled stupidly. "Glad I could help." He leaned in to kiss her again, but stopped at a noise he heard. His head snapped round after he saw Ayla's eyes widen.

Three men dressed in black leather jackets and dirty motorcycle boots had crept up the hill. One carried a gun, the other two carried strong, muscular biceps that made Ewan's saliva stick to his tongue. Protectively, he spread his arms out, trying to keep the men from Ayla.

The man with the gun whipped his hat off and immediately, Ewan recognized him. His eyes widened in fear and he staggered backwards. "Get him!" the man with the gun pointed at Ewan. One of the muscular men began to charge as Ewan fled. "Get HER!" the leader ordered the remaining man before Ayla had a chance of escape.

Ayla's feet were lifted off the ground by a strong pair of arms. She squealed as the large man picked her up so swiftly, it scared the hell out of her. She glanced over the hill to see Ewan with blood dripping from his nose. The strong man dressed in black was throwing him endless punches and kicks. Ayla screamed as loud as she could and kicked her feet wildly.

Ewan glanced up at Ayla between punches. He felt the stinging taste of blood fill up his mouth as he watched. The muscular man threw another punch and Ewan screamed. Tears came pulsing out. Ewan turned for one last look at Ayla and he was sorry he did. The man holding her tossed her over the hill and Ewan watched as her fragile, little head was pounded against the hard Earth. "Stop!" he squawked.

The man beside him kicked him until he was on the ground. Ewan felt the blood trailing from his nose and mixing with the soil. The corners of his vision were folding away. One last punch was all it took for everything to go black.


"Oooff!" Ewan felt his clumsy feet trip over a root and he fell flat on his face in the dirt. The taste of mud circled round in his saliva as he clumsily and painfully tried to stand up. So kind of Desmond to help me, Ewan thought sarcastically.

His arms shook as he stood slowly and glanced around. "Desmond?" he asked. "Desmond?" His eyes blinked. A few times until he finally realized Des had run off without him. "Desmond!" Now his voice had become more dry and hoarse.

Ewan looked around slowly once more, just to be sure he had left. Disappointment rose in his throat. Had Desmond really just been that selfish? Ewan heard a deep roar echo through the trees.The polar bear was getting closer now. Ewan took a scared sniffle in and raced on forward.


It appeared he had out run the bear. He was in the middle of the jungle with no food, no water and no sense of direction. Ewan let out a deep, dramatic sigh and began reciting lines from Moulin Rouge to entertain himself. He no longer had the fear of someone over hearing himself talking as different characters. He had been walking for hours now and he had memorized his loneliness as well as he had memorized his lines.

"The most beautiful of all these was the woman I loved. Satine. A courtesan. She sold her love to men. They called her the 'Sparkling Diamond', and she was the star of the Moulin Rouge. The woman I loved is... dead." Ewan laughed quietly at himself in case anyone was watching. He then began quietly humming to himself.

His feet crunched twigs and leaves underneath the rubber bottom of his sneakers as he walked along to the beat. Soon, his humming grew louder and morphed into words.

"Never knew I could feel like this. Like I've never seen the sky before," his song started off simple and soft but grew louder as he realized nobody was listening. "Want to vanish inside your kiss. Everyday I love you more and more." Soon his strong, clear, beautiful voice was dancing carelessly through the trees. "Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing? Tellin' me to give you everything. Seasons may change, winter to spring, but I'll love you until the end of time. Come what may! Come what may! I will love you until my dying day!"

Ewan let out another deep sigh as he realized he had no one to sing the duet with. He stared at the ground and watched his shoes push the mushy dirt in.

Suddenly he looked up and saw a man watching him from behind a tree. He could just see the man's sparkling, curious, brown eyes and the tuft of messy, brown hair on his forehead. "Hey," Ewan snapped out of pure embarrassment.

Desmond took a step out from behind the tree. It appeared that he had stepped into somewhat of a spotlight as the sun shone perfect through the trees. An innocent smile crawled up his stubbly chin and pushed on his lips. "You're really good."

"You heard me?" Desmond nodded. "Oh, I was just singing to myself." Ewan began to head over to his friend, since Desmond wasn't moving at all. He looked the man over, seeing the mud and grass stains on his blue, button-up shirt. "What happened to you?"

"I'm sorry I separated from you. I was just… everything was happening so fast. I wasn't thinking," he shrugged.

"But you're okay?"

"Just fine, brotha."


"I like to think you died for a reason, Mr Eko. I just hope it isn't too long before we figure out what the heck that might be." A frown rested on Locke's face as he began Eko's funeral. Ewan stood beside Desmond and watched Locke curiously. Ewan had never met any two people as meant for each other as Mr. Eko and Locke. "Rest in peace, Mr. Eko. Thank you for helping me find my--"

Ewan watched as John gave Eko's prayer stick one last look. It was so sad to watch him deal with Eko's death. Although, he didn't seem too upset on the surface, Ewan could just picture Locke's sadness.

"Uh… Locke?" Ewan asked uneasily as everyone was packing up to leave the funeral.

"Yes?"

Awkwardly, Ewan rested a hand on the man's shoulder. "I'm sorry about everything with Eko."

Locke looked puzzled. "Thank you, Ewan." The tongue twister made him smile.

"I'm sure.. I'm sure… everything is going to be alright," he wanted to sound comforting, but he didn't know what to say.

"Um… thanks," Locke turned away and Ewan's hand slipped off his shoulder. He shoved a bottle of water in his backpack and announced, "Alright everyone. Let's move on." He flashed a quick smile at Ewan and then headed off.

Ewan stood awkwardly, wanting so badly to say something else. The words were quivering on the edge of his lips, but he didn't know what they were. He sighed and picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulders and hurried to catch up with Desmond.


If you're reading this and don't get it, check out it's "prequel" The Locke and the Key.

It makes me sad to say this, but I think this will be the last chapter before Lost starts up again. But who knows, I may find something to write about during those two months of boredom. Two months? Oh, man that's a long time!

-Got Scots?