Thank you again for all the great reviews!
~VM~VM~VM~VM~VM~VM~
"Oh. My. God," Veronica squealed when Keith opened the door to their cabin and she rushed in. She dropped her bag on the floor and spread her arms out wide. "Is this the shizz or what?!"
Keith closed the door and looked around appreciatively, whistling under his breath. "Wow," is all he managed.
"I know, right!?" Veronica agreed wholeheartedly. She rushed to the sliding door and stepped out onto the small private balcony, rushing back inside a second later and grabbing her dad's hand. "Look, look at all the minions bustling about down there," she preened in a posh voice pointing to the busy dock below them.
"Now, now, dear, don't mock the underprivileged," Keith chastised with a waggle of his finger. Veronica immediately shook her head.
"Who, me?" she answered innocently. Her dad rolled his eyes and chuckled, disappearing back into the cabin. He looked around again and sighed wishing he could afford to take his daughter on vacations like this all the time. The place was gorgeous, with Italian designed furniture and a nautical themed decor accenting the tastefully finished cream and navy small but adequately sized room. He made his way into one of the two bedrooms and immediately claimed it to be his.
"Found my room!"
"What?" Veronica blinked and rushed back into the cabin blinking at her dad who was pointing to the second bedroom.
"Yours."
They were both identical and Veronica smiled. A queen size bed dominated the room, with small bedside cabinets either side of the plush navy fabric headboard. A single wardrobe took up one corner, whilst a dressing table with a huge mirror took up another. Attached to the bedroom was a tiny en suite, but the whole place was simply designed for space and efficiency, and Veronica thought it was perfect. She bounced on the bed and sighed happily.
This weekend was going to be awesome!
Unpacking the camera equipment and laptops, both Keith and Veronica quickly glossed over the details of their investigation, deciding a game plan to get Mrs Martin a result. It was a basic stalk and stakeout job, discretely blending in so Mr Martin didn't suspect a thing, and they were hoping that they'd get it done sooner rather than later.
While the Neptune Princess was still docked, it was unlikely that their mark was going to provide the Mars duo with any incriminating evidence of his infidelity, so Veronica suggested she take advantage of the time to get acquainted with as much basic layout of the ship as she could.
"Excellent idea, number one daughter," Keith agreed sitting back on the small cream sofa by the sliding door to the balcony. "Be careful, though, and no talking to strangers!"
"Yeah, yeah," Veronica waved her hand and closed the door to her bedroom to change. She came out a minute later dressed in a pair of smart, tight fitting black shorts and a white halter neck cropped top that showed off her belly button. Keith narrowed his eyes as she shoved her cell into her back pocket.
"You gonna wear that?"
Veronica grinned at her dad and pocketed a room key and some money. She put her sunglasses on the top of her head. "I'm on vacation, dad. I'm blending in with the natives," she winked before breezing out of the room. "Be back before we cast off!"
"You'd better," Keith said to the closed door. He leaned back and closed his eyes smiling. Veronica was so excited, it made his heart swell with love.
-vm-
Navigating the Neptune Princess was proving to be a challenge as the corridors were all designed to look the same, and Veronica eventually stopped in her tracks and sighed. She needed a map. Making her way down to the deck where all the duty free shops were situated, she searched for a help centre, where she picked up a detailed map.
"Holy crap," she murmured looking at the sheer scope of what the Neptune Princess had to offer. For a small cruise ship in comparison to some of the colossal liners that graced the oceans, she certainly had plenty! Veronica decided a large coffee was in order while she studied her map, and went in search of a cafe.
It was easy to decide a game plan as the ships design was basically grid like, and Veronica quickly got to grips with her bearings whilst enjoying a hazelnut latte at the Cocoa Bean cafe, before testing out her strategy, and finding the indoor pool at the stern with ease. There was also an outdoor pool towards the centre of the ship, and she gasped at the beauty of it when she got there. At one end was a wicked water slide, and at the other was a bar, with plenty of plush sun beds surrounded by palm trees and tropical potted plants. Three hot tubs and a kiddie sized pool finished off the place. The area was already busy with holiday makers and the sun shone down making the crystal blue waters glitter. It was mesmerising.
"Quite impressive, isn't it," a voice interrupted her awestruck reverie. She snapped her head around and blinked at the tall, well dressed, blonde young man standing behind her.
"Ah, yeah," she agreed looking him up and down. With his designer charcoal grey print V-neck tee shirt, black pants, and perfect hair, he was pretty damned cute, and that accent kind of made her heart jump a little. Mr Tall, Blonde and Dashing-good-looks smiled and held his hand out.
"Hi. Lyndon."
"Veronica." She shook his hand. "British?"
"It's the shirt, right?" Lyndon chuckled pointing to his Union Jack print. Veronica smiled and relaxed letting his hand go.
"Yeah, nothing to do with that accent at all," she said sagely. Lyndon laughed.
"May I buy you a drink?" he asked after a moment. Veronica raised her eyebrows at him. He looked down and blushed slightly, "Sorry to be so forward, but if I don't have a civilised conversation with someone soon I fear I'll go insane. Please?"
Thinking for a moment, Veronica figured no harm could come from having a tropical cocktail with a hot British guy in a place surrounded by people, and nodded with a smile. Lyndon grinned back and led her to the bar, ordering two virgin piña colada's, which Veronica closely watched being made.
They chatted about the weather, the ship, and nonsensical things for a short while until Veronica felt comfortable in Lyndon's company. He seemed to let her ramble on, which made her smile.
"Are you here with your family?" she asked him.
"Yes. My mother and father, and my uncle and his family. You?"
"Just me and my dad," Veronica answered with a smile. Lyndon automatically looked around. "Oh, he's not here. I'm exploring before we set sail."
"Me too. My parents were driving me insane," Lyndon confided in her. "I had to escape for a while."
Laughing, Veronica slurped noisily on her straw and put her empty glass down. Lyndon looked surprised, and then did the same, enjoying the freedom from manners.
"God, my dad sometimes drives me absolutely nuts," Veronica said thinking of his old fashioned views on what clothes she wore, and how he was so over protective of her when he knew she could take care of herself. "So I can relate, I think."
"I'm sure you can," Lyndon grinned. "Another drink, Veronica?"
"Ah, that'd be nice, but I'd better get back or my dad will send out a search party for me," she answered with a shrug. It was a shame the time had flown by so quickly because Lyndon was someone Veronica found she wanted to know a lot more about. She stood up, "Rain check?"
"Of course. I'd be delighted. It was very nice meeting you, Veronica. May I give you my telephone number?"
"Absolutely," she said whipping out her cell and handing it to him. He keyed in the number and gave it back, lingering for a moment when his immaculately manicured hand brushed hers.
"Until then," he smiled and watched as Veronica backed away waving as she disappeared back into the ship.
She grinned to herself and bit her lip. A holiday romance? Could she? Her blossoming friendship with Troy was still in its get-to-know-you phase and Veronica felt a twinge of guilt for even thinking of maybe having a little free and easy fun whilst on vacation, but, what the hell... How often was she going to meet a gorgeous British guy on a luxurious cruise liner?
Decision made, Veronica smiled all the way back to her cabin.
~VM~VM~VM~VM~VM~VM~
The valet opened the first class suite and waited until the Echolls family entered before nodding to his porters to follow on with their luggage. He stayed silent as the guests looked around, and thanked Mr Echolls when he handed him a tip before leaving the suite, the butler quietly closing the doors behind them.
Aaron slipped his clip of money back into his pocket and looked around again. He shrugged nonchalantly, commenting, "Not bad. I've seen better."
Logan threw him a look. Typical. The suite was nice enough, comfortable and more than they needed. If anything it was too opulent, with its crystal chandelier hanging low over the inlaid mahogany dining table, and the marble fireplace adorned with elaborate silver candle sticks. Even the kitsch furniture looked like it was loosely fashioned after the garish rococo designs of the eighteenth century – gold brocade plush seats surrounded with an ornately carved frame.
The fully stocked wet bar was the centre piece as far as Logan was concerned though.
Seeing the suite's personal butler already dealing with his mother's many designer cases, Logan headed towards the huge sliding doors and opened them, walking out onto the private balcony that led to a private deck for the sole use of the six executive first class suites. He ventured further when a noise drew his attention and Logan looked to his right, frowning when he saw the Hello! Magazine crew getting settled in the adjoining suite.
"Ah, Mr Echolls, I trust you've settled in?" a small plump woman with bright red lips politely asked him. Logan smiled tightly at her and nodded. "Is your father about? Could I have a quick word with him, do you think?"
Before he could answer, Aaron barked his name making Logan jump. The plump woman blinked in surprise at his reaction.
"My dad's pretty cranky when he's tired. Probably a good idea if you could catch him later?" Logan said and respectfully excused himself. He strolled back into the suite and leaned on the balcony door frame staring at his father. "You needed something?"
"Yes, Logan. Get your shit in your room," Aaron hissed at him with a glare. Logan frowned at his bag still left on the floor where it had been placed by the porters, silently picked it up and made his way to the bedrooms, walking past the first one that had obviously been claimed by his parents, and into the remaining free room, right next door. So much for butler service! He saw his suit bags already hanging up in the huge closet space and smirked, throwing the rest of his belongings on the floor by the door. His room was ridiculously large, with a king sized bed and more drawer and closet space than his own room at home. The decor was gaudy and definitely not his taste, but it was comfortable, with its own lavish en suite, and the bedroom door had a lock on it.
"Logan, you all settled, darling?" Lynn asked softly as she walked into his room, glass of something already in her hand. Logan sat on his bed and nodded. She joined him. "It'll be soon over, I promise. Just... just please don't-"
She stopped midsentence, but Logan could easily finish it off for her. Don't do anything that would make him angry. It was a tall order. Lately, Logan just had to breathe wrong and Aaron would snap. The less time Logan actually spent in his father's company, the better.
"It'll be fine, mom," he said reassuringly and smiled at her, standing up again. "Hey, you mind if I go explore for a bit?"
"I think that's a great idea, son," Aaron's cheery voice interrupted from his doorway. Logan turned to look at him, and winced when his dad strolled over and slapped him on the back with a huge grin. "You go explore, enjoy yourself!"
He glanced at his mom, a brief flare of wariness flashing in his eyes, but Lynn was already up and smiling at him like everything was perfect.
"You sure, mom?" Logan asked softly. Lynn nodded and gently kissed his cheek.
"Have fun, darling."
"Be back in time for dinner, son!"
Logan gave his parents a tight smile and slipped out of the bedroom while his mom went onto the private deck with Aaron. He saw his father nod and smile lovingly at his wife, and for a second he was caught off guard by the rare show of affection... until he saw the plump woman from the magazine suddenly appear and knew it was just a performance. Shaking his head, he silently left the suite.
When he finally stopped walking, it seemed to Logan that he'd trekked for miles, the maze of corridors and decks just going on and on. He soon lost his bearings and followed the signs down to the guest services where he picked up a map.
"Huh," he muttered when he realised the way the ship was laid out, and set off more confidently to find the outdoor pool and hopefully a bar.
"Double vodka, ice," he ordered flashing his fake ID when he finally found the bar in the pool area. The barman hesitated glancing between his customer and the ID, until Logan threw down a fifty dollar note and growled, "Just give me the fucking drink, man."
Raising an eyebrow, the barman quickly glanced left and right before pocketing the fifty and happily gave Logan his double vodka, who just smirked at him before leaving to find a shady place to sit, where he could check out the skimpily clad women sunbathing on the lounger's without being too obvious about it. Logan wished he could stay hidden amongst the palm trees for the rest of the weekend, but he knew his father would kill him if he screwed his precious fucking magazine feature up.
Eventually checking his watch, Logan sighed. He'd been sat alone nursing the same drink for over an hour, hidden away lost in thought. Knocking back the now diluted vodka, he left the pool area and slowly headed towards the stern of the ocean liner, using the elegantly decorated elevators and making his way through a maze of doors and walk ways until he was standing looking over the railings at the churning water. Glancing up, Logan stared for a second when he caught a glimpse of a young couple making out in one secluded corner of the deck before turning to look at the ocean again, and watched the Californian coast getting smaller in the distance. The Neptune Princess had left the harbour and he hadn't even noticed. He was now officially trapped on the floating prison with no escape save one.
Logan took a deep breath and leaned over the railings. Would it hurt? Drowning? Would he have the chance to feel his lungs burning for air before the huge ship propellers diced him up into fish bait?
Did he have to courage to find out?
No.
He leaned back again and closed his eyes. No. He wouldn't leave his mom with him. He couldn't.
"Excuse me?"
Snapping his eyes open at the voice, Logan saw a middle aged couple grinning at him. He frowned uncomfortably.
"We couldn't help but notice," the woman started excitedly getting out her camera, "but aren't you Aaron Echolls' son? I recognised you from that gorgeous family picture in People Magazine a couple of years ago. I collect all the cuttings about Aaron Echolls, he such an amazing man and..."
Logan tried to tune the irritating woman out as she gushed about his father, the talented actor, the all round wonderful human being, but her shrill voice grated, shredding his nerves.
"...Aaron's Kids, and we just love him, don't we, Pete. You must be so proud of your dad!"
Forcing himself to smile, Logan nodded to the couple. "Oh yeah, I'm real proud of my dad," he said with an exaggerated flare. "He's the best dad in the whole wide world!" The smile fell off his face and he walked away leaving the couple frowning after him.
"Hey, are you alright? Could we get a picture? Is your dad onboard?"
The noise of the churning water drowned out the questions, and Logan dragged his fingers roughly through his hair, knowing the weekend was only going get worse, especially when the fucking press started following him. Still, he was Logan Echolls, Bad Boy, Psychotic Jackass, and Perfect Pretend Doting Son. Nothing could hurt him.
If only that was true.
~VM~VM~VM~VM~VM~VM~
"So, whaddya think?" Keith announced when he emerged from his bedroom. Veronica looked up from her laptop and careful assessed her dad up and down.
"Hmmm, I'd say America's Top Model needs to check if they're missing a stylist," she smiled tapping a finger on her lips. Keith twirled around, showing off his smart dark blue suit with coordinating waist coat and contrasting white shirt. "I'd maybe rethink the tie though, dad."
Lifting the item, Keith raised his eyebrows. "Why? What's up with the tie?"
"Oh, nothing," she shrugged looking down at her screen again. "Just that you could maybe, y'know, undo a few buttons, slip on a gold medallion... Friday Night Fever?" A second past before Veronica burst out laughing and Keith rolled his eyes.
"It's the hair, right? Too Tony Manero?" he mocked seriously.
"Hair?" She looked up and smiled when her dad pouted like a six year old. "I'm kidding. You look very swish."
"Swish," Keith repeated with a grin.
"Oh yeah... suave too, dad. You'd give Tony Manero a strut for his money any day!"
"Excellent," he deadpanned mimicking the well known Simpson's character. Joining his chuckling daughter on the sofa, he looked at what she was doing.
"Lyndon Morgan-Price? Should I know him?"
"No, nosy, he's just someone I met by the outdoor pool. I was just making sure he wasn't a serial stalker or a weirdo with a fetish for big ships. Y'know, the usual," Veronica explained shutting down her laptop. When Lyndon had given her his cell number, she'd been too curious not to find out a little more about the Blonde British Bombshell that had made her heart flutter. She'd been surprised to discover that young Mr Morgan-Price was actually the son of Dorian Price, an A-List British actor apparently famous for his roles in box office period dramas. Lyndon's mother, Katherine Morgan-Price, was also a British actor known for her work in the theatre. At seventeen, Lyndon was an only child, and aspired to follow in his parent's footsteps, already having a few prestigious credits to his name. The family had fame and fortune and wealth. That information alone had made Veronica a little uneasy, knowing too well what money could do to the young and privileged, but she ruthlessly quelled that notion deciding that not all rich brats were like Logan Echolls and his 'toadies'.
"Huh, and you call me nosy! Well, just you be careful, Veronica," Keith said softly. "I know you can take care of yourself, but I do worry about you." He stood up again. "Just remember we have a job to do, so you might not have time to have a little holiday romance too... what with all the Daddy-Daughter Time I have planned."
Putting her laptop down, Veronica waggled a finger at her dad. "Hey! A 'holiday romance'? Who said anything about a holiday romance? I certainly didn't!" She hugged him and leaned back a fraction, smiling. "This weekend is all for us, dad... Buuut if a certain cute British guy wants to hang with me, well he'll just have to get in line."
"He sure will," Keith agreed and pressed a kiss into Veronica's hair. "Now, go get dressed for dinner. It's an international extravaganza!"
"Great, I'm starved!" she grinned and disappeared into her room. Ten minutes later she came out looking lovely in a dark red shift dress and her hair held off her face with a sparkly diamante slide. She finished her ensemble with dainty black sandals and a shoulder bag.
"Wow, you look gorgeous," Keith told her and held out his arm which Veronica instantly took. "You got a camera in that bag?"
"Of course," she said rolled her eyes and patted her bag, "Never leave home without it."
"That's my girl."
They left their cabin together and headed down for dinner arm in arm. They'd chosen the biggest dining restaurant; The Coral Palace, and one of three on the ocean liner, because the captain had a table booked there for the first night. Being one of the partners in the company that owns the cruise line, Mr Martin would no doubt be at that table too... a perfect opportunity for Keith and Veronica to watch him, see who he sits with, who he talks to, etcetera. Ground work.
The international menu, and live musical acts during the meal, was just icing on the cake, and the Mars father and daughter investigative duo were looking forward to the evening of entertainment, along with everyone else there. The place was already packed with lively holiday makers laughing and enjoying themselves, and it was noisy, but the atmosphere buzzed with excitement.
They quickly found a place to sit near the captain's table and settled in, making short work of the delicious, mouth watering selections on the menu that evening. Veronica eventually decided on chicken and mushroom linguini, tomato and pesto toast points, and a fresh Mediterranean salad, ordering a tall, non-alcoholic pineapple cocktail with it, while Keith chose from the Chinese section of the menu and ordered spare ribs, spring rolls, oriental fried rice and Szechuan beef.
"Would you like a drink with that, sir?" asked their waitress.
"Beer, please," he finished with a smile.
Veronica idly played with the fancily folded napkin on her placemat as she looked over at the captain's table while the waitress confirmed their order, and spotted Mr Martin easily, humming low in her throat; he was even more drop dead gorgeous in the flesh than in the picture they had. She quietly observed the man, noting that he'd spent most of his time so far chatting to a younger man on his right, rather than the tanned brunette with boobs as big as cantaloupes on his left.
Keith looked at his daughter when the waitress left and noted the direction in which she was looking. "See anything worth reporting?" he asked softly shaking out his own napkin and draping it across his knees.
"I'm not sure," Veronica muttered. They sat quietly watching Mr Martin and the other guests at the table, leaning close to each other and pretending to talk, until their plates of food arrived.
Looking at her father's meal, Veronica smiled. "Oooh, that looks yummy." She twisted her fork in her linguini and winked, "Not as tasty as mine though!"
Keith just grinned picking up his chopsticks and rubbing them together with quick flicks of his wrists, glancing at the mark again. "So, what're you thinking about Martin?"
Leaning back, she took her glass and sipped it, looking towards the captain's table again. Mr Martin was still talking to the guy next to him. "Look at him. What do you see?"
"He's eating dinner at the captain's table, nothing untoward about that. He's chatting with the other guests..." Keith murmured. He narrowed his eyes. "Guest. He's chatting with the guy next to him."
"Yep. Mr Martin, so far, has ignored Busty Brunette and has monopolised Pretty Boy instead. If he's cheating on his wife, I'm thinking maybe we might not catch our Antonio Banderas wannabe in flagrante with another woman."
Keith's eyebrows hit his non-existent hairline, "Oooo-kay." He pursed his lips. That could be a problem. It was one thing for a man to cheat on his spouse with a woman, but any public displays when showing affection to another guy would probably be a lot more discreet, and getting that money shot, if Mr Martin was indeed cheating on his wife, was going to be a lot trickier.
Veronica was obviously thinking the same thing. "It'll be less conspicuous if I tail him during the day," she suggested taking a bite of her pesto toast. "I can pull off 'ditzy airhead with a camera' better than you can if I get spotted. We'll just have to try and stake out the dining rooms to see where he'll be for dinner tomorrow and Sunday night."
Swallowing a mouthful of Szechuan beef, Keith nodded. She was right. He'd nap for a while during the morning and patrol the ship like a man on his vacation in the afternoon. Then in the evening, when Veronica went to bed, he'd see if Mr Martin was taking advantage of the romantic ambiance of the moonlight with anyone special.
"Alright, but keep in touch and report in regularly," he nodded. Veronica took out her camera and Keith moved around the table until his back was towards the captain and his dining guests. She lifted the small Nikon and took pictures of Mr Martin and his 'friend' while her dad posed. She also took a few of Keith too, finally getting up and posing with him for a selfie.
After they finished their food Veronica ordered ice cream sundaes for them, enjoying the sweet treats while they watched the live entertainment, until Mr Martin got up to leave.
"He's leaving," Veronica nudged her dad. Keith casually looked towards the exit just as the young man from the captain's table got up to leave too. "Oh, I think we might get lucky here. Pretty Boy on his six."
"Okay. Gimme the camera," Keith waggled his fingers. Veronica gave it to him. "I'll meet you back in the cabin later." And with that he calmly walked out of the dining hall in the direction of the mark.
Veronica sighed and finished her fruity cocktail, deciding to enjoy the music for a little longer before leaving herself.
She made her way to the upper deck and strolled slowly along, appreciating the cool evening breeze against her warm skin and marvelling at the way the ocean looked so calm and tranquil with the moonlight glittering on the gentle ripples. Millions of stars dotted the clear night sky above her, like a huge blanket of twinkling fairy lights. It was magical.
Other couples were enjoying the late evening air too, but Veronica ignored them all and just savoured the peace, leaning on the rail and staring out at the vast inky, glittering ocean that seemed to go on forever. She smiled softly thinking of how quiet it was, with just the muted background noise of the world around her... thinking of how different it was right then to her life back in Neptune.
Even walking Backup on the beach couldn't give her serenity like this, and she closed her eyes and savoured every moment.
Lilly would've hated it, she thought suddenly amused, chuckling softly to herself and absently touching the necklace Lilly had given to her. God, she missed her friend.
"Penny for them."
The quiet voice startled Veronica and she sucked in a sharp breath spinning around. Lyndon stood smiling down at her, his hands in the pockets of his navy pants.
"Jesus, Lyndon, you scared the crap outta me," she half laughed, half scowled, her hand on her chest over her heart.
Lyndon lowered his eyes, "Sorry." He looked up again. "You look very lovely tonight."
The compliment stopped any snarky comments in her throat and Veronica smiled, smoothing her hand down her dress and turning to face him properly, checking out his immaculately pressed pale blue fitted dress shirt and navy silk tie hanging loose around his unbuttoned collar. "Thank you. You ah, you look good too."
Softly chuckling, Lyndon pulled his hands out of his pockets. "Thanks."
The moment was sweetly awkward.
"You here to collect on your rain check?" Veronica asked with a grin, laughing when Lyndon almost blushed.
"Is it that obvious, Veronica?"
"Kinda," she nodded, her nose wrinkling slightly. She stepped closer. "I'd love to."
"Great!" Lyndon smiled. He held out an arm allowing Veronica to move by his side. "There's a small bar on the lower deck with a band playing jazz."
"Sounds nice," Veronica nodded. With Keith hopefully on the trail of their money shot, and herself already enjoying the company of the young British actor, the night had started off very promising.
~VM~VM~VM~VM~VM~VM~
Logan sighed listening to the shallow conversation going on around him. He hated the false camaraderie between people who had no desire whatsoever to be polite to each other, hated the forced laughter and one-upmanship... The whole scenario reminded him of the tedious cocktail parties his parents regularly hosted as he grew up.
Actors really grated on Logan's nerves.
The dining room they were sat in was small and exclusive. Simply called Nemo, the atmosphere was quiet and subdued with hushed exchanges between the finely attired guests, and soft piano music filling the air. Ambient lighting from low hanging chandeliers and the candles on each table added to the mood.
Logan just thought it was depressive.
The small tables, each perfectly adorned with silverware and crystal, were situated close together, so conversation wasn't exactly private, and Logan absently fidgeted with the stem of his water glass as he listened to his father currently talking with a British actor, some guy called Dorian Price, at the adjacent table, snorting softly when he saw the man arrogantly roll his eyes at his father's bragging. Oblivious to the action, Aaron simply carried on making an ass of himself.
What a joke.
He shifted in his chair, slouching a little uncomfortably, wishing he wasn't dressed up in the restrictive suit he was wearing. It matched Aaron's right down to the tie, much to Logan's utter embarrassment. Like Father, Like Son.
"It'll look good for the pictures... You're wearing it, son," his father had ordered.
Daddy Dearest had then reminded Logan of his role in this whole Happy Family charade. His ribs still ached like fuck.
"Logan, sit up straight."
Blinking, Logan glanced at his mom when he heard her soft request. He sighed and sat up again, watching her sip on her forth neat double vodka. She was sat next to Aaron, a fake smile on her immaculately painted lips whenever anyone spoke to her. Not that many people did. Dorian's Price's wife, apparently an esteemed British theatre actor with a double barrelled name, had taken the seat close to his mom, and had resolutely ignored her.
Bitch.
Were all British actors so stuck up? Or was it actors in general? Logan decided it was more likely the latter.
There were quite a few tables within earshot of theirs. Occupied by couples, small family groups, all murmuring and smiling. The dining room was full, but Logan had never felt so isolated. He hated it.
Along with Dorian and his bitch wife, their son also sat at the table. And next to them, Dorian's brother, his wife and their twin teenage boys. Even though they were briefly introduced, Logan didn't remember any of their names, didn't really want to know any of their names anymore than he wanted to be a part of any of this game his father was playing.
He pulled out his cell for something, anything to keep him from killing himself from boredom, and smiled when he saw the text icon flashing.
- dude wwher r u?
Like Dick didn't know. Logan rolled his eyes and read the next text with a smirk.
- i jus banged the hottest white goat i eva seen
- wtf girl girl
- fck man yur musing a greatt party u shoulld be hard
- here omg fork LOL frig auto cucumber
Only Dick, Logan chuckled to himself. Drunk texting and autocorrect was a great combo. He closed his cell with a resigned sigh and put it back in his pocket when he saw his mom frowning at him.
God, he wished this was over. It was a set menu, so what the fuck was taking so long with the food, he hadn't got a clue.
"Hey, Logan, isn't it?" the Price's son asked in a hushed voice, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. Logan looked up to see him and the two identical ginger haired teenage boys staring at him.
"Yeah," he muttered, silently wondering if the low light was playing tricks with his vision, or the guy was actually wearing eyeliner.
"So, your folks are actors too, huh?"
Blinking, Logan's lips twitched into a smile at the asinine question. He nodded, grinning at the similar bored expressions on their faces, and for a second Logan didn't feel all that alone.
Before anything else could be said, a slew of waiters then arrived with the appetisers, each plate placed in front of a guest at almost the same time. Logan stared at his food in dismay. It looked like a seafood medley in some kind of creamy garlic sauce, served on a delicate bed of salad leaves. He pushed the dish away with one finger and leaned back again.
Aaron frowned at the action, a shrimp speared on his fork.
"Honey, what's the matter?" Lynn asked, her eyes widening as she suddenly remembered his allergy. "Oh, Logan..."
"S'okay, mom," Logan murmured picking up his water glass. He looked at his father and dared him to say anything. Aaron just ignored him and carried on eating.
Their set menu dinner had been pre-ordered earlier that day, probably by Aaron, or so Logan hoped. He'd like to think his mom wouldn't have so easily dismissed his deadly reaction to shellfish. No, this was done on purpose. Spiteful, but that was his dad! Logan fleetingly wondered what Aaron would have done if he'd eaten the shellfish, and died right there on the floor in front of all to see.
Basked in all the attention for the grief stricken father? Fuck. That was publicity you couldn't buy!
Was that Aaron's endgame?
Logan narrowed his eyes at his father. If it was, no way was he going to give the bastard the satisfaction.
Twenty long minutes later, the waiters removed their plates, and a short while after that their entrées were placed in front of them, again in the same weird synchronised performance. Surf and Turf, nouvelle cuisine style. Logan just laughed bitterly at the lobster tail draped artistically over the moist rare fillet steak.
Enough was enough.
"Yeah, um, I'm not feeling too well, mom," he quietly announced folding his linen napkin up and dropping it unceremoniously on top of his food, looking defiantly at his father when Aaron narrowed his eyes irately at him.
"Okay, Logan, we'll see you later," she said softly as Logan pushed to his feet and left. She met Aaron's eyes and quickly glanced down again, feeling ashamed at their dinner choice and the need to unnecessarily explain, "He's allergic to shellfish."
"Oh, yeah, I forgot," Aaron mumbled matter of factly before shoving a bite of fillet in his mouth and chewing appreciatively. "Mmm, that's a shame. This is great steak!"
Losing her appetite, Lynn quietly placed her knife and fork beside the barely touched food and picked up her vodka, catching the eye of a nearby waitress to ask for a refill.
-vm-
Logan took off his jacket and hooked it over one shoulder with a finger. He unknotted his tie, letting it hang loose, and undid the top three buttons of his shirt. The corridors of the ship were blessedly quiet, much to his relief, as he didn't feel like being recognised yet again by some deranged giddy fan of his father's, or any opportunistic tabloid paparazzi out to make a quick buck.
To say the Neptune Princess was host to a boat full of wealthy souls for the weekend long maiden voyage, Logan still managed to pick out the nouveau riche, those that had the money but lacked the social acceptance of others in the class. It was like he attracted them, or rather his name did.
The magazine and their ilk had so far left him alone, but Logan knew the weekend was still young.
Reaching his suite, he swiped his key card through the lock and walked in, closing the door behind him with a sigh. The place was eerily quiet despite the early hour, and Logan was still hungry, thanks to the laughable dinner and his doting daddy's 'mistake'. He was under no illusion that he'd pay for walking out during the entrée, leaving Aaron to explain his sudden departure. But he really couldn't find it in himself to care anymore. What was one more bruised rib to add to those he already had?
The fruit basket, compliments of the cruise line, sat still untouched on the wet bar, and Logan pushed away the weird exotic crap, shoving aside furry kiwi fruits and pears with a nauseating grimace, and whatever the hell the tiny orangey things were, until his fingers wrapped around an apple.
He quickly changed his clothes, hanging his suit up in the closet carefully, and left the suite again before finally taking a bite of the fruit.
An apple a day keeps the doctor away.
Logan smiled to himself as he thought of the saying, taught to him by his mom when he was little. It hadn't taken him long to realise that it was a lie... especially when his father had had a bad day.
Still. It was a habit Logan had never broken.
By the time he'd reached the top deck, he'd finished the apple and threw the core overboard, watching it float away, bobbing silently in the small waves. Logan found himself mostly alone, with only the odd passenger or couple here and there, and the wind cooling his skin as he stared out into the inky darkness of the night. Previously held in fascination, he couldn't help but now feel almost suffocated by the vast insidious depths of the ocean. No longer warm and welcoming, it just felt eerie and foreboding, and once more Logan found himself trying to remember what was so great about living.
He'd had it all once. Love, friends, a future... and in one moment it was gone. Destroyed. A huge part of him died That day too, and as Logan looked down at the water, so deadly calm and endless, the reflections of the ships lights on the surface dazzling hypnotically like jewels, he again questioned his reasons for not letting the rest of him die as well. He was living a half existence tainted with bitter hate and self loathing. No direction, no goal to work for. His father abused what was left of his vitality out of him...
Seriously, what was the point of it anymore?
But Logan knew why he wouldn't end his own life... not just because he couldn't ever leave his mom, no... He would never give Aaron what he wanted; the proof that he was weak and a coward.
Logan Echolls was determined to prove to the world that he was a better man than his father.
Looking up at the stars instead, he sighed, "God, I miss you, Lilly."
Eventually Logan decided to seek out a bar, planning to drink just enough to stop thinking and numb the inevitable confrontation with his father, and turned to leave when he spotted a small blond woman leaning against the railing a few yards away. He looked her up and down appreciating the way her dark red dress curved over her body in all the right places. He couldn't see the woman's face but something about her reminded Logan of Lilly.
It wasn't until he recognised Dorian Price's son approach her and she turned around that Logan suddenly knew why, and he laughed in surprise.
Veronica Mars.
What the hell was Veronica Mars doing here?
The smile quickly fell off his lips when he watched her walk away with Price Junior, an irrational twang of jealousy fleetingly twisting inside him. He shook his head angrily. Jealous? He wasn't jealous of her! He didn't care who she was with...
Before he knew what he was doing though, Logan had followed them to a small bar on a lower deck, dark and cosy, with jazz playing softly in the background.
"Fuck this," he muttered to himself when Veronica sat down a little too close to her 'date'. He felt like a stalker, hell, Veronica would call him that to his face and probably much worse. Logan threw a disgusted look at the couple before leaving.
He headed for the next nearest alcohol serving venue, pushed his way through the gyrating sweaty bodies of the dark and nauseatingly loud nightclub he'd wandered into, and sat down at the bar. Logan flashed his fake ID, grateful that he wasn't too closely scrutinised this time, and ordered a shot of tequila, telling the bartender to leave the bottle. Within moments he'd downed four hits.
"Aren't you a little young to be abusing your liver like that?"
Gulping back another shot, Logan looked up to see a middle aged Latino woman smiling at him. She had an air of predator about her, and he slowly smirked.
"I'm wise beyond my years," he muttered, filled his glass up again and chuckled as he drank. The woman screamed 'cougar', and he so wasn't interested. She reminded Logan of his father's whores.
"I bet you are, honey," Cougar Lady breathed close to Logan's ear, so close that he could smell the stale whiff of cigarettes on her breath and got a great view down her tanned cleavage. He shuddered and leaned away.
"Okay, Kim Cattrall. You do realise you're old enough to be my mother, right?"
Scowling, the woman stepped back. She quickly recovered and raised an eyebrow, offering that seductive smile again. "Do you realise, my dear boy, that with age comes experience, and I am very experienced..."
The last bit was almost sighed breathlessly. She actually sounded like a pro and Logan laughed out loud. Too easy... Too easy...
He faced her, cocky smirk in place. "I'm sure you are, but I don't pay for sex, chica. Maybe you should try hitting on my dad. He's more your type," he said, staring at her until she got the message.
With an affronted glare, the woman hissed a string of foreign expletives at Logan before storming away.
"Yeah, nice to have met you too," he called after her brightly. When she disappeared, Logan grabbed his bottle of tequila and moved further down the bar, where he carried on trying to numb his existence with the alcohol.
"Hey, aren't you Aaron Echolls' kid?"
Fuck.
Logan dropped his head on the bar with a resounding thunk.
"Yeah. Logan, right? Logan Echolls! I thought I recognised you."
Forcing a bright smile, he lifted his head and turned towards the irritating loud voice, coming face to chest with a busty red head. Logan's eyebrows hit his hairline. Well, it was infinitely better than Cougar Lady...
"Hello, girls," he smirked. The young woman giggled making her ample, firm bosom shake. Logan's grin widened. He sat up straighter and looked at her smiling face. "Well now, you have me at a disadvantage. You apparently know my name, I don't know yours..."
"Oh, Chastity," she answered, a sweet flush pinking up her glowing cheeks. Clearly star struck.
Chastity? Her name definitely was at odds with her appearance, and Logan couldn't help but chuckle to himself. Challenge accepted, he mused.
"A pretty name for a beautiful lady," he leaned close and murmured softly, the timbre of his voice lowering to a soft seductive purr. He watched it work as Chastity's pupils dilated and the flush deepened. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"S-sure, whatever you're having." Chastity put her purse on the bar and sat down, her thighs brushing up against Logan's. She never took her eyes off him as he motioned towards the bartender for another glass.
This time, instead of just knocking his tequila back in one, he picked up the salt shaker and licked the back of his hand. The action pulled a breathy moan out of Chastity, so he gently took her hand and licked it too, running his tongue slowly across the skin, taking his time.
"You ready?" he asked after sprinkling the salt on their wet hands. Chastity licked her lips, and then they both lapped up the salt and downed the tequila. Logan, however, grabbed her fingers before she could take a piece of lime, took the wedge instead, placed it between his teeth, and leaned forward offering it to her. She opened her lips and slowly, teasingly sucked on it until Logan spat it out and covered her mouth with his own, kissing her deeply, his hand stroking down her body and resting high on her thigh.
He pulled away a moment later with a smile, watching her lick the taste of him and the tart juice from her shiny lips.
"Oh my God... Oh my God, I can't believe I just did that!" she gushed excitedly, pulling out a small digital camera from her purse. Logan looked at her slightly bemused, flinching as the flash nearly blinded him when she suddenly leaned in and took a photo of the two of them close together.
"What're you doing?"
"Telling my girlfriends, of course! God, they'll never believe me," she giggled rapidly tapping out a text message on her cell. "I just made out with Aaron Echolls' son!"
The smile instantly fell from his face and Logan turned away, feeling that all too familiar hatred making his blood run cold.
"Yeah, well, don't expect me to validate that," he growled harshly, fists curling in anger.
"Ohhh. You don't have to, baby," she smirked close to his ear, waving the camera in his face before blowing him a kiss and disappearing back into the gyrating bodies on the dance floor. A part of Logan admired the bitch for her audacity and he couldn't help a breathy chuckle escaping. It was humourless and sounded ugly, full of revulsion and misery. Logan hated the sound, hated that this was his life; recognised and used because he was the son of the Great Aaron Fucking Echolls.
Pouring another shot of tequila, Logan gulped it back, and another, then one more, before throwing down a wad of cash on the bar to pay his tab. He left feeling worse than he did when he arrived, and headed back up to the top deck... and the alluring pull of the ocean.
-vm-
It was just after midnight when Logan walked quietly back into the suite, closing the door softly behind him. His steps faltered though, when he saw Aaron sitting in the subdued light of a table lamp, and his stomach rolled sickeningly as he ventured further into the room.
"Hey, dad," he murmured uneasily, feeling the fear creeping up on him. Aaron sat silently, staring coldly at him for a long moment and Logan's chest started to tighten.
"So, dinner was interesting," his father finally said. Logan sucked in a breath, his mouth moving wordlessly until he eventually shrugged.
He wasn't going to win here, no matter what he did or said. The tension in the room dripped with ice and Logan unconsciously yanked at his sleeves, tightly curling his fingers over the material.
"Yeah, the food sucked but the company was awesome," he said brightly. "Or was it the other way round?" In for a penny, in for a pound...
"I warned you, son," Aaron hissed menacingly, "I warned you not to embarrass me." The low light cast eerie shadows on the man's face, making his million dollar looks morph into something hideous and evil. Logan's fists clenched tighter.
"What, you mean me choking to death in front of all your new friends would've been better, dad?" he scoffed. When Aaron didn't answer, Logan snorted. "Yeah, you would've loved that, right? The Loving Father, distraught over the tragic events of his doting son's horrific demise. God, think of the press coverage! You'd be a real hit with the chat shows."
A cloud of rage passed over Aaron's face and he shot to his feet, his body thrumming with anger.
"You-"
"What, dad?" Logan gritted through his teeth, feeling the tequila fuelling his courage, "You gonna deny you wouldn't love all that attention, huh? That's why you ordered the shellfish specials, right? What's the matter, conveniently forgot I was allergic?"
He grunted when Aaron backhanded him, sending him flying backwards against the wall. The pain didn't register though, and Logan just smiled through his blood stained teeth, keeping the grin in place when his father's huge hand suddenly wrapped around his throat.
"You keep talking like that, son, and I'll make sure your horrific demise is more painful than just choking on a shellfish," Aaron threatened squeezing his hand a little tighter just to emphasise his point. Logan blinked and gasped feeling every individual puka shell of his necklace digging into his skin. He gripped his fingers around Aaron's wrist as the man growled menacingly, "Got it? You will not embarrass me again. Clear?"
Nodding quickly, Logan sucked in a shuddering lungful of air when his father let him go, leaning forward slightly as his chest heaved painfully. He glanced up to see his mom open her bedroom door, throwing a weary look of dismay his way before standing to one side to let her husband pass. Logan dragged the back of his sleeve across his mouth, wiping the blood away, and felt his heart ache at the disappointment he saw in her eyes.
Lynn shook her head and disappeared back into her bedroom, closing the door again.
He'd let her down. He'd promised to try and make the weekend work and he'd failed. When Logan heard the sudden crash of glass against his mom and dad's bedroom wall, he swallowed hard and, ignoring the vicious words echoing through the suite, made his way to his own bedroom and locked the door behind him.
Logan sat in the bottom of the shower, hugging his knees against his chest until the water ran cold, trying to block out the disturbingly familiar noises of his parents having sex. His father was aggressive and loud in the bedroom, his mom wasn't. These were things Logan never ever wanted to know, and he hated them both for it. He shivered under the freezing spray but simply stayed there waiting for the 'big finish', and pressed his hands tight over his ears in revulsion at his father's strained expletives signalling his completion.
Logan barely made it to the toilet in time, slipping on the wet tiles, before his stomach revolted and he vomited violently, the tequila burning its way back up his abused and sore throat.
Tears of anger, frustration and humiliation spilled down his cheeks, and Logan simply huddled in the corner of the opulently decorated bathroom, his head buried in his knees, until they stopped falling and the numbness took over. Only then did he drag his aching body to the bed to sleep.
~VM~VM~VM~VM~VM~VM~