BTW, I have not made any kind of profit in the making, publishing or posting of this story. This is purely for creative purposes.
PLOT: Playwright John Peter's vacation plans went sideways when the country went on Covid-19 lockdown. The girl he literally met by accident is on lockdown with him. How does he avoid cabin fever for 14 days and control the strong attraction he feels for her? (Slow burn, romance, friendship, angst.)
Warning: I use a lot of profanity for this story.
Note: 1. Pedro Pascal is the inspiration for this story. (Of course) 2. I named her Aize /ayz/ or /eyes/
Note 2: If you need picture reference/s about the story please find my Pinterest account Acer Wolfe under the board Silver Moon Inuyoukai.
Chapter Song: Insensitive – Jann Arden
HIDING PLACE FROM HELL
CHAPTER 26
QD 9 Part 2
JOHN PETERS
She is rare so love her right.
~ThePacifiedSoul
Nine days of quarantine and John finally got out! But….whoa!
Shit!
The powerful bike roars through the nearly deserted road of the city. Aize handles it like a Grand Prix motorbike driver weaving in and out of cars and trucks. John could swear that he might have heard Aize laughing. The wind warmed by the mid-morning sun rush under his helmet.
Shit! (again)
John gaped in slight panic while hanging on for dear life as Aize swerves sharply at a corner the bike almost kissing the pavement before righting up again. His dear life is around the softness of Aize's waist, her firm thighs and ass between his long legs. Together John and Aize were like one as he has himself properly plastered on her back. John had a macabre thought that if they get into an accident and if he dies right now Aize leaning low on the Ducati is an image worth bringing to whatever afterlife he ends up in.
His fingers twitch, wanting to caress the skin under the leather and cloth. Suddenly Aize tensed and gave a sharp warning grunt; her abs move away from his wayward fingers. He stopped inching his fingers under the waist of her stretch jeans and laughed like a madman, his laughter vibrates in the confines of the helmet.
This feels another liberty for him. Nine days ago he left New York City to be free of the oppressive atmosphere and situation there.
When the bike stopped at an intersection John felt someone's eyes from another car looking at them. John turned his head towards the car he could dimly see a guy intently looking at them through the semi-dark glass. John gave the driver a thumbs up. The driver returned it with a honk.
Aize tapped his hands when the lights turned yellow. He tightened his hold more. Hold on! He heard her shout. She went low again on the handle and revved the machine louder and louder.
Green!
The bike roared, wheels burned rubber leaving the car behind them.
=o=o=
New York City~~~
If the pandemic didn't happen John would've been in that resort vegetating in a beach chair with an ice cold beer or hard booze in his hand. He'd be swimming in the clear blue green waters with the white sand beach. His friend told him with as much passion and animation that those beaches were for real. They were not photo shopped. The underwater scenes were incredible and the food was to die for. The friend, Zack, had been there with some buddies from work. They were filming for a movie that time and he came back home gushing about the country, about the people and the culture. The only thing he didn't like was the weather and the temperature. But all in all it was a paradise.
John had totally forgotten about the Philippines and he just recalled about it when he passed by a store that had some palm trees for décor. He inhaled all the information he could get from the internet. The only thing left is to go there.
The virus scare had been circulating in the news and people were talking and discussing about it but all John was doing was he had been interrogating Zack on what he needed to pack and bring. Zack had been sworn into secrecy about John's plan. So if John's plan ever gets out Zack would be the only culprit.
Unlike Aize, who didn't enjoy working for the family business, John loves working for his father's logistics company. It so happened that their company got hired by Zack's production company. Zack had been John's friend from way back in acting school and he was the one who got John back in acting. John delivered some theater props at the location and because of Zack he was introduced to the producer. At Zack's insistence he did some reading and the producer promised to call him. John never thought much of it but he was really surprised to get a call asking him if he's interested at a role in a play.
The role was not a major one but it got him a foot in and that's where it all came to be.
Now that John has taken the mantle of producer/manager as well as a part-time playwright he discovered that patience is not much of a virtue for someone like him. He likes to move things along when it's not fast enough in his estimation. And for him the equivalent of the words 'fast and 'quick' has to be in the speed of Mach 10.
He is the impatient shepherd of the entire production company and many have felt the lash of his ire whenever people do not measure up to the alacrity, the perfection and dedication he demands.
It might be a skill that he learned and developed when he was working for his father's logistic company but it feels good when things go the way it was supposed to go.
As a well-known producer he has established his reputation as someone who could get things done effectively and efficiently. It's what propelled him like a rocket from a Broadway actor to producer/playwright. Not a lot of people could juggle three responsibilities. In one of his interviews one reporter wrote that John's focus and dedication is compared to a laser-guided missile. He became the poster boy of Broadway. Admired and envied and maybe, just maybe, hated at the same time by the other producers especially when John got labeled 'pretty boy',
Shit, more fuel, more reason for them to hate him and his guts.
If his staff thought that being in another country separated by thousands of miles would diminish his dominion of the production company then they were sorely disappointed. Work goes on. Pandemic, my eye, thought John.
While John is up and about in his own room in the morning he uses the power of technology to wield his will so that the renovation could push as fast as the contractors could move even during the pandemic. He uses all his considerable clout to pull strings from his influential friends and acquaintances on Broadway, the entertainment industry and sometimes in the government.
People like John with the personality like a laser-guided missile also lose their way and it also needs some calibration now and then. John has been managing and the production company without a break for about six years and it was probably his fault that he got in this mess because of a play that he wrote. It was supposed to be a big production and they were searching for the actress to play the major role. But the actress that he had in mind couldn't be found.
Frances Maddison is the sister of one of John's actors. She has potential as a good actress. But she has a diva complex. And John hates divas. They are selfish and difficult to please and he doesn't want them in his plays. John would rather scrap the play than saddle his cast with someone who thinks he or she is better than the rest of them or someone who would hold back production. This also falls under his category of alacrity and Mach 10 speed.
John never had any intention of asking Frances to audition. He had known her for a long time and her attitude was the reason why she had never been cast as a main character. He knew that she'd want to get that role. It would make her a Broadway star.
When she first approached him about the role he told her in no uncertain terms that she would never get that role.
Ever.
Shit. A woman scorned….his bad.
John's hell on earth began when Frances started campaigning to get that role. She kept inviting him for dinner to try to convince him but he would always decline. One time John got duped into attending a dinner with her and other people. He left as soon as he saw Frances. Then he the next day fired the staff that was her accomplice.
She would email him, call almost every hour, and send him messages. This went on for months. The shocked cast watched Frances' interview on TV where she hinted that she might get the role. John shut down that idea real quick at a press conference.
But she wasn't finished yet.
John didn't know how Frances knew he was going to be at the theater that day but she knew. He was at the theater early one morning to get some files and to receive some new costumes when Frances entered his office and locked the door.
Jaw tense and eyes hard, John gestured at the door. "Frances, if you don't open that door I will have you arrested." Annoyed, John sighed and slammed the files back on his table.
"What if it's the other way around?" The actress leaned back against the door, hand playing on the collar of her blouse.
"What the hell is this?"
"Simple. I'll make a scene and people will think you forced me in your office."
John huffed in amusement, hands on hips, "That is so cliché. Couldn't you think of a better plot?"
Frances' hazel eyes glared back at him. "John, you don't know how much I want this role."
"You can't have it." John shakes his head tiredly. "When a man says 'no', it's usually a 'no'….not a 'yes'" he smirks.
"Why? What do I need to do to get it?"
"Absolutely nothing," John turned his swivel chair around and sat in the faux leather that had seen better days, "…because I won't hire you."
"I could force you…." Frances scowled when John laughed out loud leaning all the way back in the chair.
Sharply, John leaned forward in the chair, eyes serious. "Frances, have you ever asked yourself why I'm not interested in hiring you?"
"You're so raring to tell me, of course."
"This," John gestures at her, 'this is why."
"What do you mean 'this'?"
"I don't like divas. Shit. I don't even think you could be called a diva. You're just a spoiled girl who always gets what she wanted. This is what you're doing."
Frances scoffed, "You realize you don't have a female lead."
John shrugs. "So I don't."
"So your play wouldn't happen."
"It has happened before." John reclined back to his chair lifting and crossing his feet on his battered desk.
"You'll lose money."
"I have backup plans." John points to the door. "Your time is up."
"John, you seem to forget. You have me locked in here."
"Is that so?" John pointed at a shelf. "Recorded. You can't use that tired old drivel on me, Frances. Get out!"
Frances' brother was embarrassed for his sister and had tried his best to keep her at bay. But what can he do when his sister is a psycho? John had at one time even contemplated on securing a restraining order on Frances.
John's time, peace and concentration suffered and he took it out on his people. Thank goodness the play season was nearing its end and the theater had a scheduled renovation.
He made his escape plans to go to paradise in secret.
=o=o=
The way to paradise isn't a road paved with golden bricks it was thousands of miles away by air. It is eight thousand five hundred ninety-three miles across the Pacific Ocean and fifteen or so hours to arrive according to Google. John felt a pang of loneliness and as well as excitement of what is in store for him once the plane touches down.
First on his list, he probably needed to get drunk out of his mind until he gets robbed by a hooker. The amusing thought stayed with him as the private plane made the approach to the airport. John cranes his neck at the scenery below him.
As soon as he stepped out of the plane the heat that Zack was talking about slammed at him like a furnace blast. He knew about it but it still shocked John with the realization he's not in New York anymore.
=o=o=
The duality of the atmosphere made John's heart beat pound in delight as he walks around the airport trying to avoid the thick mass of people moving here and there. This is it. He is free even for a few weeks or a month.
Camera flash!
He looked up from deleting another text from Hell and froze in his tracks.
At the exit is what looks like a throng of foreign and local reporters. They were snapping pictures of someone that looks like a celebrity on their way out. These guys were always waiting at airports hoping to catch a familiar face or a celebrity or a famous star. John isn't in either category but if he ever gets recognized even by just one, just by a freaking one of them….then it's all over.
Shit. John slowly backs away lowering his baseball cap over his eyes and went the opposite way. Fuck. That was close. He was breathing a little fast, nose flaring in rising anxiety, his footsteps taking him wherever there are no people around.
Thankfully his hyper-vigilance gift came to his rescue and he found a miracle at the airport where he could be hidden from prying and curious eyes, cool and clean enough for his comfort and lighted just right. Let's hope there is no family of three bears lurking around to spoil the mood.
Tired from walking for two hours, John sighs in relief as he lowers himself on the cold dark tiles of the airport.
=o=o=
No transport available….
No transport available….
No transport available….
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
John remembers to keep quiet pressing a clenched fist on his lips in frustration after he couldn't get any vehicle to get him to his resort and almost half the day has been consumed.
He has two options; go on foot to one of the nearby small budget hotels around the airport, get a rest for the night and try to find a passage form there.
It's a promising idea.
He looks at the map data on his iPhone. He has about twenty or so choices-all affordable. All he needs to do is click on one.
OR….shit. He's tired. He doesn't feel like walking in that effing heat right now, he thought as he crosses his feet and arms over, baseball cap low on his face. He leans back to the wall closing his eyes…. Please, don't let anyone bother me here until I'm ready, John murmurs to himself.
=o=o=
It wasn't the three bears who found him. It's a she dressed in dark clothes.
She came with pain in her wake. John's pain. Wavy dark hair covers her face. Her bag and shoes strewn about in his neat and tiny piece of borrowed real estate. Fuck! She's not moving on the floor.
Shit! Is she dead?
Oh fucking hell….John closed his eyes in relief. Her hair moved! He swept aside the thick curtain of hair covering her face and John looks like someone who has been bitten by a snake. When he reached for her cheek a jolt of desire came upon him. Whoa! What was that?
As he looks at her a plan began to quickly take form. Even he was shocked at where this mad plan came from and why he has to do it this way. John's chest rose and fell at the audacity of what he was scheming. Even as he weighs the pros and cons, the positives and negatives in his mind his hands were busy looking at her and in her bag for a hint of where she comes from and who she is. There's her red-soled high heel, a large leather tote bag. The minimalist earrings and two rings looked real gold. Most of her stuff looked understated but in good taste.
The black phone helped him decide to push his preposterous plan.
He's not looking his best right now….should he change clothes? Hurriedly, John opens his carry all and switched a dark blue shirt out of his plaid shirt. Shoes! Where? Carry all or suitcase? Uh….yes! Suitcase!
There, he looks the part.
I can pull this off. I can make it happen…..
=o=o=
I can pull this off. I can make it happen…..
The horrible memory of his shameful act made him feel the guilt all over again. It slammed back at him like the blast furnace heat that met him at that airport.
Nine days ago. He didn't expect their relationship to go this far, this fast or this serious.
But we are digressing.
John's main concern is his conscience. It has been nagging him day and night ever since he recovered from his sleep-deprivation episode. He should have told her everything. He should have let her decide what to do with him after that. Why didn't he?
John was scared. He was scared that Aize might send him off for real this time and that he wouldn't see her ever again. She would be disgusted at him and she could just stick him at a hotel or probably leave his ass on the side of the road or something and then that would be it.
It was just supposed to be a kiss, shithead!
He convoluted the matter when he took that simple kiss further. That time no one's drunk or emotional. They…no! HE, John was lucid as fuck and he let his libido complicate the matter by having sex with Aize. Man, you knew she would want to have sex with you but you're the man. You could have….said no.
There are two women: Aize and Frances. Why string along Aize but be savagely blunt to Frances?
Had he strung along Frances then he wouldn't be in this problem. He could have gone through life in New York without the harassment until he found a suitable actress for the role.
He doesn't care a shit about Frances but you chose to be honest with her…
But with Aize….why lies?
He is not an asshole not to know that Aize is a great catch.
She IS the catch of the century, dipshit! It was John who was the one questioning his qualification. Man, you certainly do not measure up! The woman singlehandedly turned the family business around, manage her brother's business, at the same time take care of the addict of a brother while trying to stave off depression from losing her parents.
You said you respect her but is what you're hiding respecting her?
Then you all went shocked just because you saw some condom in the wastebasket? You were ready to crucify her for that?
REALLY?!
What kind of man are you, John?
When you die where hell would you go?
'Fess up!
=o=o=