Idealism is the sanctuary of humankind. It saves us from the monstrosities of our world, allowing us to indulge ourselves in fantasies and make the world seem like a better place. We block out that which scares us, upsets us, and troubles us with thoughts of a pleasant alternative- a better tomorrow. Perhaps it is because of this that humankind chooses to focus upon the future, instead of the past. For, the past is a series of events whose outcomes are what they are, and there is no hope of any alternatives to them. The future, on the other hand, holds an infinite number of possibilities. Anything can happen, and, in an idealist's mind, everything good will come to pass. One may choose to swim in a sea of dreams for the future, but, no matter how calm the water appears, should a storm ever pass, unrepentant waves of fury- of the past- will be there to drown the swimmer in a thundering turmoil of memories. One must never disregard the ever-present danger; one must never ignore the past. For until one has accepted the fact that storms always threaten the calm sea, and submits themselves to wearing a lifejacket, they will be endangered. Like history, it is not to be ignored or forgotten, but rather to be learned from.

The brilliant sun, whose golden beams had lit the world during the day, gradually slunk down beneath the horizon, taking its final bow before exiting the sky's stage and allowing the production known to the terrestrials as "Twilight" to ensue. A deep navy color soon coated the canvas of the sky, blending together with the final rays of yellow sunlight to create a magnificent swirl of colors- a sunset- before completely flooding the sky. Though the sunlight was gone, tiny gaseous masses, millions of years away, provided the world with an eerie twilight by which to see. Well, the part of the world that wasn't already enlightened artificially, at least.

The city of Manhattan was a bustling center of life. Bright, colorful lights blinked, advertising the latest production of the Royal Broadway Theater (Les Misérables), throngs of lively New Yorkers flooded the streets, and an incessant stream of taxis and other automobiles filled the streets, providing that homey Manhattan traffic background. In one of the million cabs, there sat a dazzling woman, just slightly over twenty years of age.

Strappy, black, heeled shoes clicked together as the cab inched sluggishly through the evening traffic. Her legs, covered by a knee-length denim skirt with a slit up the front, were crossed. A snug-fitting, black V-neck tank top covered her chest, or at least, a somewhat-modest part of it. Adorning her neck was a simple necklace, which consisted of a tiny wildflower petal inside a glass ball, strung upon a thin, silver chain. Her blonde locks were tossed up in a haphazard bun, allowing a few strands to fall on either side of her face as her head rested upon her hand and green ((Yes, J-Lo has brown eyes. Dommage)) eyes gazed out the window, surveying the world. They flitted over the familiar buildings and the crowds of people absentmindedly. Demeter Lawrance was somewhat of an impatient person, and, consistent with what one would believe, traffic jams irritated her. Sighing, and wondering how long it would take her to return to her apartment at last, she blinked her eyes and shook her head, only to find herself most surprised at what came into her view when her eyes reopened themselves.

Surely she had to be seeing things, Demeter thought. Yet, after blinking her eyes again, the ghastly figure remained. With that messy brown hair and those unmistakable brilliant blue eyes, she was sure that it was him, but why had he returned to Manhattan? With eyes as intense as a falcon's, she watched as he flashed that characteristic charming grin at the doorman and passed through the double doors of the Plaza.

"I'll get out here," she said abruptly, opening the door to the taxi and casually throwing a fifty-dollar bill at the cabbie. Hastily grabbing her trendy purse in her hand, she wound her way through the maze of cars and made her way inside the hotel.

Glancing about frantically, thinking she had lost him, a familiar deep brown duster caught her eye and she followed it down the hall, past the mob of people awaiting the elevator, up the corner and around to the stairs, careful to stay far enough behind the figure so that he could not see her, but she could see him.

The last time she had seen Orlando Corvello Lorenz had been almost two years ago. The last memory of him she had was the vision of those captivating cerulean eyes staring at her, telling her that he still loved her, while his lips told her that he just couldn't forgive himself for what he had done. At the time, she, too, was young and foolish, too stupid to realize what he was trying to tell her- what he was trying to teach her- she had just walked away, too blinded by hurt and pride to understand.

"Alright," she had said, and that had been the end of it. The phone calls ceased, and neither stopped by the other's residence ever again. A week or so after that event, she had found a hastily scrawled note attached to her door telling her that he was taking some teaching job at a magic school and that he bid her good luck in life.

Now, two year later, she understood why he had done what he had done. It had been the right thing to do, after all. But, now, it was too late. Since Orlando, Demeter had gotten herself a job in advertising, and gone through her share of men, trying desperately to find that feeling being with Orlando had always given her, but never finding anything close. No one had ever held the same passion about something that he had, no one had ever understood her like he had, and no one had ever come close to making her feel safe like he had.

The man carried within his left hand a leather official-looking folder of sorts, which he switched to his right hand to open the door when, at long last, he had reached the top floor. Passing through the door, he turned to the left, and entered the room at the far end of the hallway. Demeter followed quickly, catching the door with her foot as it closed.

Hesitantly, she pushed the door open with her hand, and took a few steps inside the room. The fact that she was entering someone's hotel room didn't really strike her at the moment; she was entranced by optimism, by a vision of the future, an alternative ending to the Orlando saga, perhaps. Silently, stuck in a daze, she watched as he set the folder, whose golden engraving read "Southbend Observatory", on the end table and turned around to meet her gaze.

As he turned around, Orlando was struck silent by what his eyes saw. Never had he thought he would lay eyes upon this woman again. She had left him, and not on good terms, either. Now, in the middle of a crowded city, there she was standing three feet from him in his hotel room. His breath caught in his throat, and his face resumed that vacant look.

Barely breathing, Demeter took a tentative step towards him, then another, until she had covered the distance between the two. Looking straight across, at his chest, her hands found their way to his jacket, smoothing out the collar on it. She glanced up, towards his eyes and, when their eyes met, she was overcome by past memories. Orlando was, more than anything, confused. Why was she here? How had she found him after two years? What did she want? Forgetting everything of the present, Demeter leaned in to kiss him with somewhat of a sense of urgency.

Preoccupied with thought, he didn't move to meet her lips. Instead, he pulled his head back slightly, and regarded her with a look of almost fear, but more than that, confusion. Why was she doing this?

Confused, when she didn't feel his lips upon hers, Demeter slowly pulled back for a moment, searching his face for something- anything- and was greeted only with a vacant look in his eyes, followed by them melting into an intense gaze. All thoughts of Faithe completely vanished from his mind as he placed his hands behind her neck and leaned in, closing his eyes to kiss her.

Caught off guard, it took Demeter a moment to realize what was going on. Yet, when she did, her eyes, too, closed and her arms eagerly wrapped themselves around his back, kissing him passionately. 'God, does this feel right.' she thought, unwrapping her arms from Catch's back and letting them creep up his chest, winding their way around his head as one of Orlando's hands took its familiar position upon her lower back.

Feeling Demeter's lips press upon his own and her hands wrap themselves around his neck the way that only hers did, Orlando's stomach dropped out from beneath him. Kissing Demeter was like visiting a place he hadn't been in forever and doing all the things he used to do. Slowly regaining his breath, he pulled out of the kiss, resting his head upon her forehead like he had always used to, and shaking his head. It was still there- that burning passion for each other.

Closing his lips in a sorrowful sort of smile, an image of Faithe popped into his mind. No, he couldn't do this to her.

"You gotta go, Dem," he said quietly, lifting his forehead off hers and returning to his full height. His hands lifted themselves from around her and he turned towards the door to walk away.

Demeter's hand remained where they had been, though there was no longer a body within them. Her eyebrows rose and a quiet gasp escaped her lips as she blinked a few times in succession, and then cast a confused glance his way. Dropping her arms abruptly to her sides, he lips parted and the confused glance turned into an incredulous one. Slinking her shoulders, her head turned away and her fingers reached up to touch her lips before her gaze returned to the open doorway.

"Oh, God."

((**grin** You wrote the name Catch.))

Poor Kaytlin. She had been looking forward to the opening show that night, excited to see her daddy on stage, excited about her solo debut. As fate would have it, the little five year old had waken up with a stomach virus. Arrangements had been made for the girl who normally watched her to have the day off, it being the opening night of Les Miserables, there was no need for her to be there.

Faithe had gotten the phone call from Jake as she and Orlando had been preparing to leave for the observatory. Unable to say no to her brother's pleadings, Faithe had reluctantly explained the situation to Orlando. So disappointed about not being able to be by him during probably the most important time of his life, the eighteen year old had almost started crying.

Here she was though, standing in the apartment above the Royal Broadway Theatre. Eddie had been waiting for her when she had arrived. After a long, two hour conversation, the two had reconciled, although he knew that there was a lack of trust. As she had told him, she didn't know if he would ever be able to earn his trust back, but she forgave him.

The evening was a quiet one, Kaytlin too sick to be energetic. Around 8:30, Kaytlin had laid down, falling asleep easily. The rest of Faithe's evening had been spent reading in silence, her eyes occasionally casting up towards the comet. It was harder to see tonight, but she assumed that was due to the excess lights surrounding the theatre. Sighing, and wishing desperately she was with Orlando, Faithe rolled her eyes at how slowly the evening had been dragging on.

It seemed like forever before she heard the door open and Jake and Eddie came bounding in. Seeing the elation on their faces, a large grin spread over her face. The show had gone wonderfully, save the little Cosette stand in that had almost had a nervous breakdown backstage. The little girl had recovered by the time she was on stage to sing her solo.

After hugging Jake good night, Faithe finally left the apartment, her pace much quicker on her way back to the hotel than it had been on the way to Jake's. She was excited to know what happened, ready to celebrate with him.Not to mention, a solution to the biggest problem she had been facing had crept into her mind that evening, and she was ecstatic to share it with him.The subway had taken forever, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that was mainly because her patience level had run out long ago. Reaching the hotel, she had to fight herself to keep from breaking out into a run to get to the penthouse.

Tapping her foot impatiently as the elevator crawled along, Faithe felt like a little child in a candy store, waiting to be let loose to choose anything she wanted. As soon as the door began to open, she hustled through it, hitting her shoulder on the metal door. Mouthing the word 'ow' as she walked, she rubbed her shoulder gently. Stopping in her tracks, Faithe's brown eyes narrowed slightly. Why is the door open? Stepping forward quietly, she stepped through the door, her hand gently pushing it silently the rest of the way open.

A look of shock crossed her face as she watched the man who had expressed his love for her kiss another woman. This isn't happening. Not him... But it was happening, there was no doubt about that. Pain coursed through her body as she stared at the two in front of her. She didn't need to ask who the woman was...she knew instinctively the woman was Demeter. Taking a step back, the hand that had been on the door fell to her side, causing a small creak to escape the door.

As her presence became known, Faithe's eyes moved from Demeter to Orlando. Biting her bottom lip, she turned around and walked back out of the doorway. Closing the door quietly behind her, she stood there for a moment, her hand running through her hair. Feeling the familiar stinging in her eyes, Faithe's eyebrows crumpled together. Walking back towards the elevator, she hit the button. Of course, the elevator had found its way back to the bottom floor, which was over twenty floor below Faithe.

A small tear found its way down her cheek, but she wiped it away immediately. Her impatience crept in one again, and she hit the button three more times. Of all the people in the world she trusted, Orlando was the only person who had ever loved her for who she was, and not because of the events that had played in her life. Well, at least she thought he had loved her. Sure, she and Jake had a great relationship, but they couldn't be left in the same room for fear of what may happen to one of them. The only reason they had started getting along was because he had almost killed her by pushing her into the orchestra pit.

Her emotions were becoming harder and harder to control as she waited anxiously for the elevator. The longer she stood there, the more tears that welled up in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she rubbed her eyes, cursing the few tears that managed to slip by. Wiping her cheeks quickly, she hit the button for the fifth time.

Running a hand over his face ((a la Catch)), Orlando sighed as he stepped towards the door. What had just happened? Demeter was supposed to be gone. That feeling was supposed to have vanished. He was with Faithe- he had gotten over Demeter Lawrance. It had taken him nearly a year, but he had done it, and, now that his world was finally turning to right way again, she had come back to him, when he had least expected it.

The ocean in his head thundered as waves of thoughts crashed against the walls. Endless memories of love, splendor and pain involving Demeter echoed through his mind, combined with flashes of Faithe's half-smiles and big brown eyes.

"Do you miss her?" Faithe had once asked him.

"Yes, Faithe," he had replied solemnly, "but the part of her that I miss is too far gone to dwell on"

Demeter had left him in shambles, and then, as though she was playing some sick joke, came back and left him in emotional shambles once more just as he had rebuilt himself. 'hankfully, Faithe was still at Jake's,' he thought, letting his hand slide down his face. It bought him some time to figure this out.

Blinking his eyes, his breath caught in his chest again at the sight before him: Faithe. This wasn't happening. Surely she had seen it, the look on her face was pure heartbreak. After glancing back at Demeter for a moment, and hearing the door shut, he shook his head and sighed, heading off after Faithe. Maybe, just maybe, there was someway he could make her understand. It didn't look too promising, though... he didn't even understand it.

Pushing the door open, he left Demeter alone in the room and hurried out. Snapping his head around both ways, his blue eyes, whose vibrant color had changed into a gray hue, darted about, desperately searching for Faithe. Seeing her by the elevator, he hurried over towards her.

Having enough sense not to wrap his arms around her and try to physically comfort her, but not quite being intelligent enough to come up with any clever verbal excuse, he placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her towards him, then relinquished her, using the classic line:

"Faithe, it's not what it looks like."

His voice was breathy, partially because his rendez-vous with Demeter had left him breathless and partially due to the stress of the situation. His face held a sincere look to it, though its genuineness was contorted by remorse, confusion and vacancy. He didn't know what to say, or how to make it right.

She pulled out of his grasp at the same time he was moving his hand. Turning her dark eyes on the figure in front of her, a tear betrayed her and slipped down her cheek, leaving a stream behind it. It never is... Raising a hand, she placed it on his lips softly, signaling him to remain silent.

"I think it was exactly what it looked like, Orlando." Her voice was shaky, but despite the circumstance, the emotion in her voice was relatively controlled. There was no anger, not in her voice or the expression on her face; anger wasn't even included in her list of emotions dwelling inside of her. The hurt, the pain, the disappointment, the shock, all of it was evident in the lost expression in her eyes. Betrayal. That was there too, but she refused to show it. Taking a deep breath, she averted her gaze to the floor.

"I understand though. I really do." Looking up at him, there was genuine compassion in her eyes for the words that she was speaking. "I was her...understudy. Her stand in, and I can live with that. You gave your heart away Orlando, and I shouldn't have expected for the feelings you had for her to just disappear because I came along." I'm nothing special. Not to anybody... Swallowing with some difficult, her attention was drawn to the familiar bell tone of the arriving elevator. Forcing herself to look back up at Orlando, she bit her bottom lip, almost breaking the skin her teeth bore down so hard.

"I'm not going to try to compete with her. You love her, and the only thing important in this situation is your happiness. I'm not going to hold you back out of selfishness." Placing her hand on the door to keep it from closing, she turned her head to hide another tear that had escaped her. The more she spoke, the softer and more meaningful her voice came, and the more difficult it came for her to speak.

Stepping inside the elevator, she pressed the button for the first floor, her gaze flickering back up at him. "I don't want you to feel obligated to me. I love you too much to be responsible for you to live your life wondering if you could have been happy with her." Watching his face disappear behind the closed doors, Faithe melted against the wall. Burying her face in her hands, she allowed a few tears escape as she tried her hardest to control the emotions that were really burning to get out. Wiping her cheeks before the doors opened, Faithe stepped out, heading back towards Jake's apartment.

*****

Several times on the subway Faithe had had to check her feelings, more or less, the tears that wouldn't go away. Finally arriving at Jake's she climbed the staircase, knocking on the door lightly. When he opened the door, Jake immediately knew something was wrong. Pulling her into the room, he guided her towards the couch.

By the time Faithe got done telling Jake, and consequentially Eddie, what had happened, Faithe had finally broken down. As she began sobbing uncontrollably, Jake wrapped his arms around her, holding her protectively. "Aw, Izzy," sighing, he gently stroked her hair. "I'm so sorry this happened." Talking softly, he allowed her to sit up when she did so. Shaking her head, she wiped her eyes.

"No. I should have expected it." Sighing, her eyes fell on the floor, unblinking. Reaching over, Jake wrapped his arm around her back, rubbing her side.

"Do you love him?" The question came from Eddie, not Jake. Looking up at his face, Faithe saw a sincerity in him that she hadn't ever seen before. Nodding, she bit her lip as her eyes flitted towards the ground once more.

"Yes. I think the best way for me to show that to him is by letting him go, if that's what he wants." Eddie nodded, a pensive stare on his face. He nodded, looking back up at her, "And I think the best way for me to show that to you, is by doing the same."

The words came out unexpectedly, causing her thoughts to flow off balance. Standing up, he walked over to her, crouching down in front of her. Taking her hands in his, he squeezed them affectionately, "I've ruined one of the best friendships I could have had by trying too hard. I can't fix what I've done in the past, but I can be a better friend to you in the future. Just know that I'm here for you." For once, any talk about friendship that came from Eddie's mouth was genuine. In the past, he would talk about becoming better friends simply to score points with her, but not now. She was hurting, and for the first time in his life, he was seeing her through he eyes of a friend who was watching another friend suffer.

Nodding, she tried to offer a smile, but couldn't manage to muster one up. Standing up, she looked down at Jake. "I'm going to lay down." Walking into the guest bedroom, Faithe opened the dresser which contained extra clothes that she left there. Changing into pajamas, she laid down on top of the covers and flipping the light out. She wasn't tired, and even if she was, there was no way that she would have been able to fall asleep. She just simply needed to be alone. Once in the safe haven, Faithe finally allowed the tears to fall freely once again, clutching the extra pillow in her arms.

Feeling her turn away from him, Orlando began to comprehend the extent to which he had hurt her, and, in turn, bit his lip as she spoke. There was nothing he could say, at least not until she had said what she wanted to. Still, he couldn't fight the urge to defend himself, at least a little bit.

"And what exactly did it look like Faithe?" he retorted, throwing his hands up in desperation. The frustration in his mien died down quickly though as his eyes fell upon her face, which was, eerily controlled. Then, as her eyes rolled the floor, Orlando brought his hands down to his sides and shook his head with despair.

Quietly, Demeter found her way to the doorway and peeked her head out, listening to the exchange of words intently. She hadn't come here to destroy a relationship if that was what Orlando had had; she had figured that he had been living in the same void she had since last they saw each other, but, evidently, she was wrong. While she had flitted from man to man, futilely seeking what she had lost, he had found it.

Faithe's words were soft, sweet and undeniably selfless. There wasn't a better way that this dilemma could have played itself in Demeter's mind, as long as Orlando still wanted her as she wanted him. Considering only the kiss, or rather kisses, the two had shared only moments earlier, her mind told her he did. But, she questioned herself, if it was she whom he desired, why had he run off after the other girl?

Though Demeter was pleased with Faithe's words, Orlando wasn't. He was at a complete loss. Faithe wasn't mad, and she wasn't crying. She was collected, calm and concerned only for his well-being, just as he should have known she would be. Yet, though she was fine on the outside, Orlando knew her well enough to realize how torn he had made her inwardly.

If only he could have denied it all right then. Maybe, if he had just told Faithe straight-up that he didn't love Demeter, and had looked into her brown eyes and told her that it was only she whom he loved, the situation would have rectified itself. But, the fact of the matter was, he couldn't lie to the girl. He did love Demeter, but, on the other hand, he loved Faithe. How exactly that was, he couldn't explain, but he did know that he didn't want to hurt either of them.

Watching in silence as she stepped inside the elevator, Orlando moved to enter, only finding himself stopped by Faithe's hand. Having too much regard for her feelings, he stopped and nodded in silent acceptance that she needed to be alone at the moment. Once the doors had closed, the man's forehead leaned forward onto the cold, steel, and his hands crumpled themselves into fists and laid themselves upon the door, not pounding on it, though.

Sighing, he gradually slunk off the doors after a moment, turning back to the room. He didn't know what to do or where to go. His mind was a churning mass of thoughts and emotions; his face was a blank canvas of desolation.

Letting a single tear escape his eyes, he paused in his tracks, trying to think of something he could do. Out of the stillness, Demeter hesitantly approached him, and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her body and laying her head upon his chest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, closing her eyes.

For a moment, Orlando's arms encircled the woman and his head lay upon her shoulder, the silent embrace spoke for itself.

"Me too," he said quietly, untangling himself from her and taking a step away. Closing his eyes, he concentrated, and, in a moment, was gone.

A moment later, he arrived at his destination- outside Jake's apartment. Climbing up the stairs, he sighed, wondering why exactly his mind had brought him here. Maybe it was because it was the only place, he'd ever felt welcomed, or as though he had friends there. Or maybe it was because he longed to explain to someone what had happened. He didn't know. It just felt like the right place to be. Far from Faithe, and far from Demeter, he could think.

Slowly climbing up the steps, he reached the top in the span of a few minutes. Raising his hand, he hesitantly knocked on the door, hoping and praying for some sort of absolution to come out of this.

"Jake?" he called hesistantly, "It's Orlando..."

After Faithe had gone into the guest bedroom, Jake took a deep breath and released it. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, his green eyes looked at Eddie. Eddie was now sitting on the arm of the couch, doing the same. Looking down at Jake, he raised his eyebrows slightly, "You haven't told her about Bridget yet, have you?"

Without looking up, Jake shook his head, exhaling another deep breath. "No. I couldn't. She has enough on her mind without me adding anything to it. When things settle down a bit, I will." Standing up, he walked to the window with a pensive gaze as he looked up at the comet in the sky. An eery silence settled over the apartment, but was soon broken by the shrill scream of a five year old.

Faithe was out of bed in a heartbeat, and all three of the adults rushed into the little girl's room. Faithe reached Kayte's room first and quickly sat down next to her. Gathering the girl in her arms, she looked up at Jake and Eddie as they scrambled through the door. Looking down at the crying, feverish girl, Faithe lifted her chin gently. "What is it sweetie?" Talking softly, Faithe smoothed Kaytlin's hair out of her face gingerly.

"There was a lady," talking through her tears, Kayte relayed the nightmare that had awoken her. "She was hurting me. She took me away from Daddy." Holding the girl in a firm embrace, Faithe's eyes looked up at Jake questioningly. Jake's eyes had grown wide as he took a step backwards, his head shaking back and forth. Furrowing her eyebrows, Faithe stood up.

"Nobody is going to hurt you sweetheart. I promise." Stepping towards the door, she looked at Jake, "I'm going to take her into bed with me." As he nodded, Jake watched as Faithe went back to the guestroom. Laying down in the bed, she wrapped her arms around the shaking girl, talking softly to her. "I saw her four times tonight." The voice came out tiny and scared, but Faithe just held her closer.

Jake and Eddie walked back to the living room, Jake's face slightly pale. Before he could say anything, he heard the knock on the door as Orlando called out. Sighing, he looked at Eddie, "Will you go check her temperature while she's awake?" Watching him walk out of the room, Jake went over and opened the door.

"I had a feeling I would be seeing you tonight." There was no anger behind his voice, nor bitterness. Motioning for him to come inside, Jake closed the door quietly behind him. Sitting down on the couch, he leaned forward, his hands clasped together in front of his knees. "I want to hear your side of the story." Walking back out, Eddie held the thermometer in his hand, heading towards the kitchen.

"Her temperature is down to 100, which is good because it was at 103 less than an hour ago." Stopping in his tracks, Eddie cast a wary expression towards Orlando. Walking over to Orlando, he extended his hand, "I wanted to thank you for last night. I don't know what would have happened had you not been there." Walking back in the kitchen, Eddie began washing off the thermometer, leaving the other two to talk.

Jake's eyes never left Orlando, "Tell me what happened from your point of view." There was a look of compassion in his eyes as he searched the other man's face.

A sense of fear enveloped Orlando as he stood there, eyes upon the ground, waiting for the door to open. It was a peculiar sense of fear, though: somewhere in between that which a child feels when they've done something wrong, waiting in the principal's office and waiting to be reprimanded and the utter terror he had felt as a child. Swallowing, he heard the door open, and his eyes flitted up, though his head remained low.

Placing his hands in his pockets, he hesitantly entered the room, thoughts plaguing his mind. Faithe had obviously been there already, if she wasn't still there. That alone beleaguered Orlando enough to drive him to gnaw upon his tongue; combined with the uncertainly Jake's calm, almost kind, words had brought him, there was shortly a small gash cut into the muscle, and Orlando's mouth filled with blood as he sat next to Jake upon the couch.

Hearing Eddie's voice, Orlando's head snapped up to look upon him, glaring as if he had the right to glare. Yet his look soon melted as Eddie spoke, eerily enough, kindly to him. Reluctantly, Orlando took Eddie's hand in his own and shook it, nodding confusedly. What was this? Though he was knowledgeable about facts, sociology and human behavior in general was absolutely perplexing to Orlando. He didn't understand why Jake was being so kind to him. If the roles had been reversed, Orlando would have slammed the door on his face and cast some sort of heinous spell upon him. And then there was Eddie, whose personality split baffled him even more.

Jake's voice broke his pensive reverie and the man's eyes reverted to him for a moment, then he blinked, not knowing really what to say. He was sure Faithe had told him already, and there wasn't much else to be said. He had wronged his 'Foi', and there was nothing that could change that. He could always apologize, but what good was an apology if it wasn't genuine. In truth, he wasn't sorry he had kissed Demeter. He was regretful of the pain it had caused Faithe, but remorse for the actual act itself wasn't something he felt.

"I had just gotten back from the observatory, and I was just setting the patent down on the table when I heard someone come through the door," he began, speaking as calmly as though he were reading from a storybook, "I though it was Faithe, but it wasn't. It was someone I hadn't seen in nearly two years: Demeter Lawrance." His voice grew quite as he spoke her name, and his hand reached up to his forehead, holding his head as though he had a headache.

"I had been with her since the beginning of my seventh year at Rosencrantz until about a year and a half ago. We had had the type of relationship where we were so close that words weren't even necessary."

Sighing, he wiped his hand down his face and, resting his elbow on his knees, held his head up on his fist.

"I thought I was going to marry her someday."

His voice radiated a feeling of unmistakable sorrow as he shook his head.

"But it all fell apart.

"We were young, and, as young people are, we were stupid. One night, out beneath the stars, things got out of hand, and I let myself go to far."

He paused for a moment, closing his eyes as flashes of the night filled his head. Biting his lip, he re-opened his eyes, looking at Jake.

"It shouldn't have happened," he declared, "and I knew that. I tried to explain how sorry I was to Dem, but she didn't understand me, and I didn't understand her. anymore, at least.

"'I still love you' I told her, 'I just can't forgive myself for what I've done to you'," he recalled, "'Alright' she said to me. And that was the last I saw of her. Our storybook was left open, and unfinished, without tying up any loose ends, and without any resemblance of a final conclusion.

"Maybe that's why I did it," he said randomly, thinking aloud, with a vacant, detached feeling radiated by the leisurely pace of his words.

"I turned towards her, and she walked towards me, leaving the hotel door open behind her. Her hands were on my jacket, playing with the collar of it, like she used to do, and then she leaned in to kiss me. I thought I had been dreaming, and moved my head back, away from her. Then she looked at me with those verdant, emerald eyes, and that look on her face- confused, forlorn.

"I don't know why I did, but I kissed her then," he said quietly, averting his gaze towards the wall. "And it wasn't just a quick peck," he added shamefully, "it wasn't even just one kiss, either... After a moment, I pulled back and told her she had to go, then turned towards the door, and, then, I saw Faithe.

"God, Jake," he said quietly, turning his head back towards him upon his hand, "her face- her eyes. There isn't a thing in this world that could make me feel worse about myself than the look those eyes held. She wasn't mad, and she wasn't crying; all she said was 'I don't want you to feel obligated to me. I love you too much to be responsible for you to live your life wondering if you could have been happy with her'."

Repeating those haunting words, whatever strength Orlando had left vanished and he felt an unswallowable lump appear in his throat.

"If Demeter had come back to me any day in the year after she had left me, I would have taken her back without a second thought; but she didn't. And it took me nearly two years to get over her. Once I had finally done it, though, she came back. I had a life, I had a job, and, more than that, I had Faithe. She was supposed to be gone, and never coming back. Why did she have to come back tonight?"

((Sorry about the excessive dialogue... this sucks))

After Kaytlin had drifted back off to sleep, Faithe got out of bed. Walking over to the window, she lifted it as quietly as she could and sat in the window sill Her back against the frame, she lifted her legs, setting them in front of her, balancing as she gazed at the sky. The sight of the comet only caused more tears as she sat there, her heart in shambles. Hugging her knees, she rested her head on top of them, keeping her eyes glued on the night sky. Looking to the north, she spotted clouds rolling in with the promise of a storm. Sitting there alone, Faithe's own emotional storm passed through her once more. Burying her face in her hands, she erupted into tears, trying to keep as quiet as possible.

*****

Listening to Orlando intently, Jake nodded knowingly at the history between Orlando and Demeter. Once he was done speaking, Jake stared at the floor, a pensive stare in his green eyes as he nodded slowly. Sitting up, he rubbed his hands together, turning his stare back to Orlando.

"That sounds like something Isabelle would say." Sighing, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I think her reasoning for waiting until she was over here to let her emotions run free are very simple in her mind. From what I gathered from talking to her, she wants you to base a decision about who you want to be with solely on who you truly love, and who you truly want to be with. I think she feels that if she broke down in front of you that her pain would play an influential role on the outcome of this situation. She doesn't want you to feel guilty if you would rather be with Demeter than her." Speaking softly, the thoughtful look on his face remained as he spoke, each word coming out with that same thoughtfulness. Looking into the other man's face, Jake's expression didn't hold any look of blame towards Orlando, despite the situation.

"I think you need to look inside you and figure out what you want. Not who you want, mind you. What kind of family do you want to have in the future? Who could you honestly see yourself being with ten years from now? Let's face it, we're all at a stage in our life where everything we commit ourselves to has some sort of long term goal." Looking up as Eddie entered the room, Jake nodded a thanks as the man set down two cups of coffee on the table for Orlando and Jake. Sitting down on the couch, Eddie looked at Orlando, the same pensive expression on his face as Jake. After taking a quick sip from the brown liquid, Jake returned his cup and continued speaking.

"The first time I saw Bridget after she took off was when Kaytlin was three. I hadn't seen her in three years. Man," Shaking his head, he rubbed his chin at the memory, "I would have sworn up and down that I wanted to be with her...that I'd give anything to be back in her arms. However, after time had passed, I realized that I didn't still love her. What I loved was the memory of what the two of us had shared, both emotionally and physically. I loved the girl she used to be, not the person she had come to be. Yes, she had changed and grown up, but so had I. She took off once, and I couldn't trust her enough to bring into Kaytlin's life as her mother figure because I didn't know for sure if she was truly going to stick around."

Leaning forward, Eddie took a deep breath, gnawing on the inside of his lip. Looking up at Orlando, there was an almost empty, sad expression on his face. "Orlando, she loves you man. I have screwed up so many times where Isabelle was involved. I'm telling you from experience, she will always be there, ready to forgive anybody who is willing to ask for it. More importantly, whether I had asked forgiveness or not, when I needed somebody, she was always there. You need to talk to her about this, but you need to decide what you want first. Izzy won't be happy until she's positive you are. That's just how she is." Sitting back, he bit his bottom lip. Eddie knew he had screwed things up majorly, but he hoped that what little contact the two men had had wouldn't automatically cause Orlando to ignore anything he said. Then again, he wouldn't blame him.

"Do you love Demeter? I mean really love her, not just the memory of you two." The question Jake posed was said with meaning as he took up where Eddie left off. "Just the same, do you love Isabelle? Truly? Nobody can tell you what you need to do, except you."

"As for why did Demeter show up now?" Shrugging, Jake shook his head slowly. "Maybe it's a test for how you truly care about Izzy. Maybe you're getting a new start with Demeter. Who knows? Eddie's right, if Isabelle thinks you stayed with her because of how much she got hurt by this, she will never be happy. If you want to be with her for who she is, and not how guilty you feel, then I know that she will be there for you."

*****

Getting up from the window sill, Faithe grabbed a sweater and her flip flops. Tired of sitting in the apartment, she quietly slipped out the window. Turning, she closed it from the outside, leaving less than an inch of it open so that she could get back in when she returned. Climbing down the emergency stairs, she crossed her arms, shivering slightly as the melancholy wind from the coming storm chilled her. Walking the streets, she reached up occasionally to brush away a tear.

After walking for sometime, she came to a park with a lake in the middle. Sitting on a bench, she hugged her knees, ignoring the passersby. After two months in New York, Faithe had learned to ignore the snide remarks from the scum bags whose morals were less than obsolete.

Amazed and astounded at how calmly Jake responded, Orlando hesitantly looked up at him. There had been no yelling, no telling him that what he had done was wrong (even though Orlando himself knew it had been), no snide remarks, and no threats for hurting his sister. Not that he would have ever thought Jake would do anything like that, but the eerie calmness he held was. eerie.

Silently, he sat, taking in everything Jake had said, and then, what Eddie had said. Though he didn't enjoy Eddie at all, the man had made some good points and, it was as though he was a different person that night, not the drunken scumbag he had been, but more of a kind, gentle, and compassionate person. No blame was cast from either of their faces, another surprise to Orlando. He couldn't believe the gentle serenity of the two.

Mentally going through Jake's questions, his mind formed answers. Closing his eyes, a hazy vision formed in his mind of himself sitting out underneath the stars with a small boy upon his lap, pointing up to a constellation: Orion the Hunter. Behind him sat a woman, though he couldn't see her face. He could only feel her soft, gentle breath upon the back of his neck and her fingers tenderly toying with his hair.

Opening his eyes, he sighed, turning his head away from the two other men and casting his glance upwards. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Jake's situation was hauntingly similar to his own with Demeter. But whether or not he was in love with Demeter or the memory of who she had been to him. he didn't know. From what he had seen, she hadn't changed a bit. Still the same eyes, the same mannerisms, the same voice, and the same passion. That was impossible, though; she couldn't be the exact same person he had loved.

Change, except from a vending machine, was inevitable. He had changed over the past two years, and she most certainly had to have done the same. Spending those two years apart must have hindered their relationship; after all, the only reason people can stay together so long is by changing with each other, and complementing one another. But how could he know for certain? He had to see her again, had to talk to her, had to figure out this mess. preferably before he broke Faithe's heart beyond the point of repair.

At Jake's question of whether or not he loved Demeter or not, Orlando remained silent, not knowing the answer. He had loved her, that was certain. Then, as Jake asked if he loved Faithe, his head made an almost unnoticeable nod. Of that he was also certain.

Face vacant for a moment, he gradually turned back to the two men and offered them each a pensive look.

"Thank you," he said quietly, voice completely sincere. "I have to go, now."

Quietly standing up, he walked out the door, not completely shutting it on his way out, and apparated back to the hotel room, praying that Demeter would still be there.

((Kaycee-don't reply yet, Rachel's going to post a Dem reply))

((Way to God-mode, Li. *flicks her off, then grins*))

There are some things that can never truly be erased. These memories. these insurmountable parts of our lives keep us tied down to a spot, one that we fear we may never overcome. So we stay where we are, and we tell ourselves that things will get better in a matter of time, that hope will win out after all. And these gentle lies lull us to sleep in the night, and they keep us warm when our breath runs short and we feel the fear slipping coolly into our bones. And then we feel that terror once again for that single moment, and see that all we've done has been for naught, that it's all been a sham. Then the warmth of the lies seep back into our skin and keep us from staying tied down.

After Orlando had left, Demeter Lawrance remained in the room. She found that, somehow, she couldn't have possibly left the room if she had tried. There was something that held her to that spot- a silent hope that Orlando would return to her. Casually, she closed the door, and turned around.

The woman wandered aimlessly about the room for a moment, until her eyes inadvertently cast their gaze upon the black leather folder that he had laid upon the table. Slowly taking it in her hands, she opened it gently. From the file, a small, off-white paper fluttered down to the ground, eventually landing upon her feet. Curiously, Demeter bent her knees and picked it up, emerald eyes gazing intently at it.

As its identity became apparent, a small, proud beam appeared upon her face. Orlando had finally discovered that comet he had always told her about. Reading on, her smile turned to a small, bewildered look as her eyes read the name: "La Stroi de la Foi". Mentally translating it, the woman bit her lip, not in anger, but in a sense of frustration. Orlando had always told her ((yes, I'm god-moding; flick me off, and we'll be even)), "If I ever find a comet, your name's going on it." Yet, here was the comet, and her name appeared nowhere on the paper. Making a mental note of the comet's coordinates, she set the document back inside and closed the dossier, placing it back upon the table and continuing to meander aimlessly.

She walked first towards the window. Staring up into the mystical heavens, her verdant eyes immediately darted to the comet. A small gasp escaped her lips. When she had walked away from him so long ago, she hadn't realized exactly what she was sacrificing. In exchange for her pride, she paid with not only with a comet as her namesake, but Orlando's love, the feeling of protection his arms gave her, and the inexplicable feeling of loving someone who loved her.

Averting her gaze, she lethargically began walking back across the room. Seeing an open door, she pushed it open a bit, bringing a pale green room into view. Upon the ground was a small pile of clothes, which she knew instinctively to be Orlando's- this was his room.

Feeling frustration, pain, fear, remorse and, above all, loneliness, Demeter slowly made her way over to his bed, whose sheets were still crumpled from the night before. Lying down upon it, she pulled the sheets over herself and buried her head in his pillow, breathing in his familiar scent. Though she hadn't ever been one to cry, it was undeniable that tears were indeed falling from her eyes and moistening his pillow.

Watching Orlando get up, Jake's eyes followed him until the other man was gone. After Orlando had left, Jake sat back, rubbing his eyes again. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled it slowly and deeply, finally looked over at Eddie. Eddie was staring straight at the floor, no hint of emotion on his face.

"What do you think Eddie?" His voice coming out low, his stare ceased to remain on the other mane.

"I want to hate him, but I can't." Looking over at Jake, he rubbed his eyes and sighed. "I would give anything to be with Isabelle. Gah...you know that, she knows that. And here he is, he's captured her heart, and now he's battling between whether to choose her or an ex-girlfriend. It just kills me. She doesn't deserve that..." Trailing off, he took another deep breath and stood up. Jake followed as well, checking his watch.

"I suppose we should check on Kaytlin and Isabelle." Stretching as he stood, a small yawn escaped Jake's mouth. Walking towards the door, with Eddie following, Jake opened the door. Sighing with frustration, he looked over at the window. Checking Kayte's temperature, and satisfied that it was still dropping, he turned towards Eddie.

"I hate it when Isabelle does this. I don't like her being out there on the streets alone," looking at the nightstand, his eyes narrowed slightly, "Especially without her wand. I'm sure she probably went to that park a few blocks up. Will you stay here with Kayte for me?" A pleading look in his eyes, Jake was already pulling his wand out.

"Yeah. I think she needs you right now." Nodding, Eddie watched as Jake apparated, another sigh escaping him.

****

It didn't take Jake long to find Faithe, considering everytime the girl had ever been upset, this was her choice spot. Walking over to the bench, he sat down as a loud clap of thunder sounded out. At first he didn't look at her, merely gazed at the lake in front of the two.

"It's gonna rain." Stating the obvious, Jake's voice came out soft, and he finally looked at her. It tore him up to see the look on her face, the tears on her cheeks. Sure, he had seen Faithe cry before, but this was different than before.

"It just doesn't seem fair, Jake." Surprisingly, she spoke, but her voice came out soft, almost inaudible, and it was shakey. As soon as her mouth closed, she buried her face in her hands, sobbing once more. Reaching over, Jake wrapped his arms around her, pulling his sister into his arms.

"I know, Izzy. It'll get better though." Talking softly, he stroked her hair gently. So many times she had been there for him when he felt desolate without Bridget, and he hated that he felt so helpless when she was in so much pain. Looking up at him, she gave him a grateful look.

"I love you, big brother."

"I love you too, little sister."

Feeling his feet beneath him upon a solid floor once more, Orlando's eyes opened themselves and he began to hesitantly gaze around, searching the room for Demeter. Jake's words rang in his head; he had to talk to her. Maybe, if he could figure out how he was feeling about her now, as opposed to how he felt about her back then, he would be able to sort through the current situation from a better perspective. As long as he could make himself believe that she wasn't the woman she had been, that he wasn't in love with her anymore, everything would be alright. It might take him a little while to get over her again, but he could always fall back on the knowledge that she wasn't who she had been, and that things couldn't ever be like they were again.

He did love Faithe now, and that was something beautiful. The way the two cared for each other- and about each other- and how they seemed to both mirror and complement the other was something inexplicable. But, Jake was right, if he couldn't prove to Faithe that he didn't love Demeter any more, and had chosen her over his past love not because of guilt but because it was truly she whom he desired, she wouldn't ever let him back into her life, and he would be alone- cursed by his own wrongdoing.

A sigh escaped his lips as the room's vacancy became evident. If Demeter had gone, there was no way he could ever live again. His every waking moment would be plagued with thoughts of her, and there would be no overcoming such a fate. Wiping his face, he began gnawing once more on his tongue, and continued searching the room, maybe, just maybe, she was still there.

The sound of a quiet, sorrowful moan ((Ooh- who's god-moding now? What up, shut up! :oP)) gradually came into his ears, causing his head to turn towards its origin- his bedroom. Walking at a somewhat quickened pace, he gently pushed open the door. There, clinging almost desperately to his pillow, and swathed in his sheets, was the familiar outline of Demeter Lawrance. She wasn't crying yet, only somewhat whimpering.

"Oh, Dem." he whispered, walking across the floor and sitting on the edge of the bed.

His cerulean eyes now held a sort of remorseful look in them. No longer did he feel any sort of resentment towards the young woman for choosing such an inopportune time to return to his life; all he felt now was compunction, for her and Faithe both.

Running a hand along her head, his fingers streamed through her hair soothingly. She needed to calm down, then, maybe, he could start talking to her, and beginning to sort this mess out.

((Short? Yes. Crappy? Most certainly. Reply anyways, Rachel.))

((Li- that wasn't short. Anyways, since you're not online right now, I simply have to post this here: my date with Devon was seriously the shit! He's amazing, Li. He took me down to MB and we went swimming, then went out for ice cream, then he came with me downtown so I could get that tattoo I was telling you about put on my back! One hell of a good time. Well, sorry about this post- it's going to be seriously screwy, coz I don't know how Dem should react.))

As she felt his hand sweep through her hair, that familar calmness came over Demeter and she lifted her head up, gazing into his eyes with a longing look. It was in that moment when the full magnitude of the consequences her decision had had impacted the young woman.

The sensation his being so near gave her brought back forgotten memories- she hadn't felt that way in such a long time. The peace his presence brought her, and the feeling that he would always be there lingered in her heart for a moment before she realized that those feelings were only lies- a security she was instilling in her mind. He wasn't hers anymore, but, maybe, if he realized that she wasn't as foolish as she once had been, she could somehow reattain what she had ignorantly given up all those years ago.

Though she had had more than her share of boyfriends in the past two years, none had held a candle to Orlando. Now she knew that he was the only one she desired, and, looking back, now she realized that he had been right, in a sense, when he had told her that what they had done had been a mistake.

Slowly raising herself up, she relinquished her graps on the pillow, instead, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head upon his chest, holding herself tightly against his body as though, if she let go, she would fall off a cliff.

"I screwed up, 'lando," she whispered, "I let you go."

Turning her head up so she could see him, she shifted an arm from around his back to atop his chest.

"That night was nothing short of amazing, and, when I woke up in your arms, with your breath against my neck, I never wanted to move," she said quietly, "And when you said it had been a mistake, I was too young and too... too foolish to know you were right. We were nineteen- and it was a mistake...

"No matter how absolutely incredible it was," she added with a bit of a sly undertone in her voice, punctuating the augmentation with a wink.

"But now I know, 'lando," she continued, reverting to a serious tone," I'm older now, and I understand how the world works," she continued, fully believing that he would understand her now. She could see this thoughts again, and she could understand him again. Maybe, if she could show him that she understood him again, he would see that the only barrier in their relationship before was gone.

"But -don't you see?- there was a reason I saw you walking tonight, 'lando," she implored, "For the past one and a half -nearly two- years, I've lived my life here in Manhattan, but, even with everything I've experienced, nothing has even come close to giving me the feeling that I had when I was with you.

"I've missed you so much."

Voice faded, she reached up a hand to stroke his cheekbone. Then, sliding her hand beneath his head, her eyes closed as she leaned upwards to kiss him, hoping that actions did indeed speak louder than words.

((Rachel's gone for a few days at college drumline auditions, so I'm just going to God-mode my way through this.))

As Demeter's arms encircled him, Orlando instinctively placed a hand on her back, gently running it along her spine. Then, as his gaze met her longing one, he had to close his eyes. Feeling her hand upon his chest, his hand mechanically flew atop it, entangling his fingers with hers. As though he had found something he had lost long ago, his hand gripped hers securely, ensuring that she wouldn't leave him again.

Her words echoed in his head, and, for another moment, Faithe left his mind. He was back again, in the same place he had longed to be for so long: Demeter's arms. She was sorry and she had grown up- everything was alright now.

"I've missed you, too," he whispered, leaning his head in as her fingers ran along his cheekbone, "More than you could ever know, Demi."

Feeling the gap between them grow smaller, his free hand intuitively positioned itself on the back of her neck, and his lips offered hers a short, sweet, gentle kiss.

Old emotions were coming back, he knew. And, if he wasn't careful, and didn't keep telling himself that she wasn't who she used to be, he knew that things could very easily get out of control, to say the least. He had to remain impartial, calm, and not let her get to him. If, in the end, he chose her, then things could be free to transpire as they would, but, until that moment came, he was Faithe's, and would remain true to her.

Pulling back, away from Demeter, he breathed a small sigh of frustration.

"Faithe," he stated, "I love Faithe, now."

He sighed mentally at the thought of the young woman. A torrent of memories poured from the vault in his mind; from just watching her with the same admiration she watched him with during class and taking her up to the stars with him on his broomstick to having her dump an entire bowl of French toast batter on his head and falling asleep with her safe inside the embrace of his arms, he was hit with a tsunami of emotion.

He did love her. How else could he feel about her? He had trusted her with things that no other living or nonliving being had ever known before, and she had trusted him the same way. They had the same undying passion for astronomy, similar problems with their parents, and an understanding of one another that rivaled his and Demeter's. And, more than that, he knew that if he chose Demeter in the end, Faithe would be crippled forever. She didn't trust many people and, if she let someone in, and was hurt, it would be a long time before she opened up like that again. Jake was right, though, he reminded himself yet again. He couldn't choose Faithe just because of what effects the alternative would have on her.

At the sound of his voice, at the touch of his hand, at the moment his eyes met hers, Demeter found herself indulged in the fantasy that Orlando was once more hers. Out of her mind, out of control, and filled with feelings she couldn't define, she let her passion manifest itself as he kissed her.

The release of his lips from hers was gentle enough for her not to know the reason, and her eyes lit up as a smile crossed her face, which quickly faded as the name "Faithe" was whispered from Orlando's lips. Presuming that she was the girl he had run off after, Demeter's happy mien melted into a sorrowful one.

"Then why are you kissing me?" she asked quietly, yet matter-of-factly.

Another crack of thunder boomed loudly over the city of Manhattan. Jumping slightly at the sudden crack, Faithe and Jake both jumped slightly on the bench. Sitting up, Faithe's eyes stared down at the lake, what few stars that hadn't yet been covered by the clouds reflecting lightly. Rubbing her face tiredly, a small sigh escaped her. Jake placed his hand lightly on her back, rubbing his hand up and down in an attempt to comfort her.

"I'm writing a play." Speaking softly, he changed to subject in hopes of calming her down...at least for the time being. "Well, technically it's written. I just need to go back and proof it and edit it and whatnot." Turning her eyes from the lake to her brother, Faithe nodded. She was trying to look interested, and there was a part of her that really was, but there was a vacancy to her expression. Her eyes carried the look of a lost child.

"What's it about?" Her voice still shaking, she spoke softly, her eyes squinting slightly.

"I'll let you read it when we get back to the apartment. I really do want your input on it. I know you aren't a huge theatre person, and you only do it because Mom and Dad make you, but you do have the talent." Looking down for a moment, he looked back up, a hopeful smile on his face. "Besides, I wouldn't trust anybody else to be my editor."

Forcing a half smile to appease Jake, Faithe nodded, silently accepting his not so well hidden plea. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her again, hugging her tightly. He needed to talk to her about Kaytlin, but he didn't know if the time was appropriate. Some people preferred to hear bad news when they were already having problems, and others preferred to only handle one at a time. Knowing his sister was the former, he brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Isabelle, there's something I need to tell you." Looking at her with a look of grief and worry, Faithe immediately felt a chill settling in her stomach. "It...it's about Kayte. I got a call from Bridget last week...she wants Kaytlin."

Demeter Lawrance had a darn good point. If Orlando was so in love with Faithe, then why did he continue hurting her by being incapable of preventing his lips from caressing hers? Sighing, the poor, distraught man closed his eyes and turned away from Demeter for a moment, letting his hand slid down the back of her neck onto her shoulder, then, from there, down her arm to her hand, and, from there, off, onto the bed.

"Do you remember back in first year when the Athena quidditch team all bought new Thunderers? he asked, seemingly dazed, "And how all of us first years wanted them more than anything in the world? Then, when we finally made the team in our seventh year, we got them, and it was the best thing in the world to us?

"It's like that."

Not expecting her to understand his lame parallel, he continued.

"When you've wanted something for so long, and haven't been able to have it, the very moment that you can, everything else slips your mind. All you can think about it how badly you longed for it and how it's sitting right in front of you..."

Turning back to her, he ran a hand down her cheek, tenderly, but there was something about his touch that was no longer romantic, but more absentminded.

"Since the day you left me until the day I fell in love with Faithe, you plagued my every thought, and I would have given anything for you. Just to hold you in my arms, to feel your hand in mine, to taste your lips... But it never happened, Dem. And now, here you are, and, after all that time, the lust has just built up, and, that, is why I'm kissing you."

A light rain had begun to speckle the ground as Jake spoke, but Faithe hadn't even noticed. The words were a slap in the face, adding to the knife in her back and her broken up heart. Ignoring the rain drops that were beginning to fall heavier and faster, soaking the two figures in a matter of minutes. Standing up rather abruptly, pure anger shone on her face.

Anger was an emotion Faithe had only truly felt a handful of times in her life, and less than that had she actually shown that anger. Her eyebrows narrowed as her brown eyes seemed to grow black in the shadow of the storm.

"No! She has no right to that child!" Raising her voice slightly, Faithe brought her hands up to the side of her face. Rubbing her temples, she took a deep breath and sat back down. Brushing a lock of her sopping wet hair out of her face, she looked back at Jake, a look of disbelief in her eyes.

"Nobody knows that more than I do Izzy. I wish I knew what brought this sudden interest on, but I don't." Sighing, he leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. Reaching up, he brushed his dripping bangs out of his face.

Standing, Faithe wrapped her arms around herself, shivering slightly from the cold rain pelting at her. Walking towards the direction she had come from, Faithe walked away from Jake without a word. She didn't know where she was going, she really didn't care. Of course, Jake wouldn't let her get away that easily. Standing, he jogged after her, slowly to match her stride. Once he had accomplished that, he reached out and took her shoulders, pulling her to a halt.

"Isabelle, don't walk off by yourself in this city. Please! You know I hate it when you do that." Speaking softly, there was nothing but concern in his voice for sister. Feeling tears well up in her eyes again, Faithe looked away, biting her bottom lip.

"I just need to be alone right now Jake. Just because you got mugged doesn't mean it's going to happen to me." Voice almost inaudible, she finally looked at him, a look of urgancy in her voice and her expression.

Sighing, he let go of her shoulders, "I know, I'm worried that something worse might happen. Fine, just please don't be out all night. And try to stay out of this rain. Please?" He was very reluctant to let her go, and even considered following her, but knew she'd be furious if she caught him. Watching her nod, he sighed once more before apparating, still feeling uneasy.

She stood there a couple minutes before walking into the city, once again unsure of where she was going, and not caring where she ended up.

Listening to him speak, Demeter's face fell. She knew what was coming: an "I don't love you anymore, Demi." Yet, those words never left Orlando's mouth, and from what he did say, she didn't gather that he had even thought the words. or maybe he had. She couldn't tell. Before, she could tell exactly what Orlando had been thinking just by the color and shape of his eyes. Now, she was at a loss- not knowing if she was wanted or not.

"Do you love me?" she asked, throwing her thoughts out for him to see.

"Not anymore."

Orlando's response was simple, and, more than that, quick. He hadn't had to think about it at all; he loved Faithe, and, just as Jake had predicted, the only thing he loved about Demeter was the memory.

A spark of fiery fury flashed in Demeter's green eyes, accompanied by an afterglow of hurt. She felt used. She had followed him up the steps entranced by memories, and then, feeling his lips kiss hers with the same passion and urgency hers had kissed his with, she had found herself overcome by rapture, thinking that, somehow, everything could just go back to normal. Now, he was telling her that he didn't love her anymore and that the only reason he had kissed her was some sick, sexual lust.

"I'm sorry, Demi," Orlando added after seeing her emotions through her eyes.

"No, you're not," Demeter replied, putting a hand up as she rolled off the bed and stood up.

A feeling of betrayal coursed through her veins. Although so much time had passed, she still thought of him as hers, and, now that she was ready, he should be there to take her back; she had realized her mistake and was trying to fix it. Why couldn't he see that they could have everything again? All the feelings they'd share could come back. But, no, he was in love with someone else now, or so he said. Demeter didn't believe it, though. The girl whose face she had seen was clearly younger than him, she thought bitterly, probably one of his students.

Overcome with hurt, Demeter's mind began subconsciously implementing its defense system, which involved criticizing and finding faults with anything that had hurt her; in some way, it was as though she was trying to tell herself she was better off without him. Bitter, betrayed and feeling oh-so- terribly alone in the world, she looked over her shoulder and cast a sad glare his way.

"But you will be," she added, taking a deep breath to control herself. He wasn't going to see her cry.

Taken slightly aback by her comment, a quizzical look passed over Orlando's face as he, too, stood up, on the opposite side of the bed from her. What was that supposed to mean?

"There was some reason I saw you tonight, Orlando," Demeter stated calmly, turning to face him, "The past year, [I]you[/I]'ve plagued [I]my[/I] mind, and, I finally realized that [I]I[/I] made a mistake. I came to you to apologize and reconcile, and you kiss me, then run off with your other girl, come back after you realize you can't get her back tonight, kiss me again, and then tell me that you don't love me anymore. what the hell?

"She can't possibly understand what we had, Orlando. How old is she? Eighteen maybe? That's too young. She doesn't know you, and she never will- not how I know you, at least. Go ahead, though: give it a try. She saw you kissing me though, and she seems smart enough to know that you still have feelings for me inside your mind that aren't ever going to die. It's me you want, and, if you think she's going to understand our past, and accept you for that, then, be my guest, [I]mon cher[/I], and run off after your damsel. I can tell you right now that she won't though. You've ruined your chance with her.

"Don't worry, though; she wasn't right for you anyways."

After waiting a moment, just to stare at his face, Demeter turned on her heel and walked out of the bedroom, then, out of the hotel room, leaving Orlando to himself.

=========================================================

Had he not been so incredibly confident in how he felt about Faithe, Demeter's spiteful, scorning words might have shaken his resolve and led him to run after her. Instead, though, he merely shook his head as she spoke, knowing that the veracity of her words was tainted with human emotion. He truly was sorry that he had hurt her, but, c'est la vie. Although he still cared about her, it wasn't the way she wanted, and, so, it was better for the both of them if he just let her go. Casting his eyes over to the nightstand, he picked up the abandoned hair-tie Faithe had left there earlier that morning. Sighing to himself, he absentmindedly rolled it between his fingers, recalling the earlier events of the day.

In that moment of reflection, Demeter had waited outside the hotel room door, secretly hoping to hear Orlando come running after her, as he had done with that other girl. But, after waiting a few minutes in silence, she came to the sad realization that Orlando wasn't coming after her, and, slowly and sorrowfully began to descend the staircase that she had climbed not too long ago.

Winding the elastic around the fingers of his right hand, Orlando wandered back into the foyer of the double penthouse suite, and, from there, out onto the wonderful balcony. Closing his eyes, he sat himself upon the railing, with his back to the city, but his head turned out. The cold, brutal torrent of rain almost felt sickening nice as it pummeled him. The physical pain sort of dulled the emotional one in a sense.

Reaching a hand inside the left front pocket of his brown duster, his fingers closed themselves around the small, velvety jewelry box he had purchased earlier in the evening, on his way back from the observatory. That morning the thought had come to him, and, although he wasn't planning on asking her anytime before school ended, it wasn't often that he had both the spare cash necessary and a store to make such a purchase at the same time. He knew he was going to ask her; it was just a matter of when. Inside the box lay a simple, yet elegant, gold band adorned with a diamond-like stone; it was an engagement ring.

In the center was a rather large, gaudy Muggle diamond. On both sides of that gem were smaller ones known as Alexandrites. Normally, those stones changed color with the light, but Orlando had had them enchanted to change colors with Orlando's emotions, as a sort of security for Faithe. On a normal day they wouldd be rather consistently green; when he was feeling particularly strongly or amorously towards her, they would be a deep shade of blue; if his heart was ever untrue, though, they would turn a brilliant, fiery red. At that particular moment, it had just the slightest hint of red left over in it from the past few minutes' events, but was reverting to a green color.

He had screwed up royally, in that regard, Demeter had been right. Squeezing the box one last time, he relinquished it, pulling his hands out of his pockets and folding them over his lap. In just one moment, everything that had been built up for so long crumbled, and he was left with the shards of their relationship. How he was going to ever regain her trust, and, for that matter, her love, remained a mystery to Orlando. Wiping his hand down his face, he sighed again before glancing up at the sky.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to hours. The rain continued to pour harder and harder as the lonely, wet figure walked aimlessy through the city. Her brown hair was tucked behind her ears, weighted down by the driving rain. Whether she was crying, or the small water droplets cascading down her cheeks were rain drops she didn't know, nor did she really care much.

Despite the quilt of emotions inside of her, she was surprised that she didn't feel anger inside of her. Towards Demeter, Orlando...herself. She upset with herself, but anger wasn't the word she would use. I shouldn't be surprised. This was too good to be true. Turning into a small, desolate park her pace slowed as she dawdled. Orlando had been perfect, too perfect to be real in her life. She should have known by now that her life wasn't a fairy tale, unless it was written by the Grimm brothers.

Her head was starting to spin slightly, so she stopped and leaned against a rusted out swing set. Stress was beginning to make her weary, and the cold rain and being in the same breathing space with a sick little girl was beginning to take its toll on her. Shaking her head slightly, she stepped forward with every intention of heading back to Jake's. Reaching the empty sidewalk in front of the park, she stopped again rather abruptly. Rubbing her forehead, her eyebrows furrowed as an almost violent wave of dizzyness overcame her.

Her vision became blurred, and slowly blackened as she fainted. As she fell, her head scraped against the cement, scraping the skin above her eyebrow. From the shadows an old man jogged towards her, bending down immediately.

"Las? Las, can ya hear me?" A gruff, aged voice spoke softly, but firmly as he gently lifted her torso. Looking around, he saw nobody with her, and realized that she was alone. Without a second though, the old man, a white haired veteran with a slight Irish accent, lifted her easily into his arms. Walking as fast as he could with the surprisingly light girl in his arms, the figure disapeared into the darkness.

"She's fine Jake. Isabelle can take care of herself." Eddie mentioned for the tenth time in the past half hour as he set a fresh cup of coffee in front of Jake.

"I know she can take care of herself in Rosencrantz. Here is a different story. I'd feel better if she had her wand, or something. It's almost 2 a.m." Picking up the cup, he sipped it slowly, needing it more for the warmth than anything. "I shouldn't have left her..." Repeating the words that he'd been whispering ever since he got home, Jake shook his head and stared at the floor.

"Look, you'll wake up in the morning, and she'll be crashed here on the couch." Eddie was trying to be comforting, but he couldn't help but admit to himself that he was worried about her. Sure, Isabelle had left before when she was upset, but she had never stayed out this late without getting in touch with them. Still, if something were wrong, they'd know about it. I hope...

The cold, bitter rain continued to beat down upon Orlando as he sat upon the balcony railing, left hand still in his pocket. Every so often his fingers would gather the small box in their grasp again, squeeze it for a moment, and then relinquish it again. His face had once more adopted that haunting, vacant look to it. Staring out at the city, thoughts afflicted the man- thoughts of Faithe, of Demeter, and of how to get himself out of the mess he had somehow ambled into.

He knew exactly what he had to do- which was to make reparations- but hadn't a plan to go about making such a miracle happen. There were too many people involved, and each person had their own feelings that would have to be subdued and their own view of the situation. First, there was Demeter. Cruel as the young woman's bitter remarks had been, Orlando knew her well enough to know that she didn't really mean them all; she was hurt, and the way she released her emotions was letting her sharp tongue flick a menagerie of crisp consonants off in the form of spiteful words, hoping to make someone feel sympathy for her. Little did she know, Orlando already did feel sympathy for her- he just didn't show it in the way she wanted him too.

Then there was Faithe- his darling, beautiful, amazing, intelligent, trusting, loyal Faithe. Sighing, he put his head to his hands, wondering what force could have possibly made him hurt her how he had. Her trust wasn't an easy thing to gain, and he had won it, and thrown it away. Not only had he probably scarred her emotionally for life, but he had given up what the two had had- an indescribable bond: love. Not to say he didn't still love her- for he most certainly did- but the trust that fueled that love would have to be rebuild again, and who knew how long that would take? And who knew how he was supposed to do it?

His thoughts turned next to Jake. There wasn't much he could do there. Until he had completely reconciled with Faithe, his relationship with him would be wary. Then, finally, there was Eddie- who was no doubt enjoying this and taking advantage of Faithe's lack of affection for Orlando at the moment.

Sliding his legs up onto the wet railing, he pulled them into his chest, lying his head upon them. With another sigh, his eyes closed. He had to go back to Jake's and talk to Faithe, who, based off what Jake had said earlier, Orlando assumed was there. Surely she, too, couldn't be sleeping. Concentrating the remainder of his energy on apparating, the man soon found himself at Jake's door again.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked quietly upon the wooden, or perhaps, metal, door.

"Jake..?" he called quietly, again, feeling that same feeling of dread in his stomach.

Groaning slightly from the headache that was plaguing her, Faithe reached up and rested her hand on her forehead. Opening her eyes, she had to blink a few times before her blurred vision cleared. Looking up from what he was doing, the old man moved slowly towards her.

Gasping, Faithe sat up quickly, backing as far against the wall as she could. Her brown eyes that were normally so calm were now filled with terror. Breathing hard, she continued to push against the wall, unsure of what to do.

"Easy, las. I'm not gonna hurt ya." Speaking softly, he reached out a hand, palm down, in a silent move to calm the frightened girl. Jumping as he outstretched his hand, her eyes showed that she clearly didn't believe him.

"Wh-what do you want with me?" The trembling in her voice made her sound like a little girl, but she didn't care at the moment. Why did it seem as if nothing ever happened until somebody voiced their concern about something happening? Hearing a soft whine to her right, her eyes darted in the direction the soft sound had come from. Sitting on his haunches was a brown mutt, his head tilted slightly as he looked at her curiously. Sitting down a few feet in front of her, hoping to lessen her intimidation, the old man looked at her, inspecting the cut above her eyebrow.

"I want ya to let me dress that wound of yours." There was an authority to his voice, but not an evasive, demanding authority. The first thought that fled to her mind was that of a grandfather telling his grandson not to jump out of a tree, knowing he'd get hurt. Offering a smile, he shook his head, "I saw you fall in the park, las. I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn't. I didn't want to startle you, but you needed to be taken out of the rain." Scooting a little bit harder, he showed her a bottle of peroxide and a clean cotton ball. "I promise ya, las, I'm not gonna hurt ya."

There was still a lot of tension in her, but she figured she didn't have much choice but too trust the old man. Relaxing the look of anxiety on her face, she allowed her stature to relax, though every sense in her body was on high alert. Scooting closer to her, he poured the clear liquid on the cotton ball, almost soaking it completely. Reaching out, he tipped her head slightly, examining the two inch long cut.

"This is probably gonna sting a little." Still speaking softly, he dabbed the cut gingerly. Wincing from the stinging sensation, Faithe unintentionally started to pull away, but he held her chin firmly, yet gently. Continuing to dab lightly, he looked at her, a gentle expression in his eyes, "I'm Aaron Cutfield, and that's Bob." Motioning towards the dog with his eyes, he continued to smile at her, trying his hardest not to make her think he was going to hurt her.

Finally beginning to relax a little bit, Faithe's eyes looked around their surroundings while he spoke. They were in a broken down home that had long since been abandoned. Two of the side walls had been torn down, or had fallen from age. There were two lanterns, brightly lit and a pallet of blankets, which she had been laying on. There were few trinkets, but those he had were in fairly good condition.

"I'm Faithe Cunningham." Speaking with a little bit more confidence, she rolled her neck as soon as he had finished. Looking around once more, her eyes settled on the man before her. He was dresses in dark cotton pants that had seen better days, and a dark t-shirt that was faded and worn. A dark green trenchcoat had been laid on the back of a three legged chair to dry from the rain. His pale skin had been darkened from the days in the sun, but despite the fact that he was homeless, there was a lot of confidence in the man's dark green eyes.

"Well, Miss Cunningham, you are more than welcome to stay here for the remainder of our little rain storm if you wish. I'm sorry I startled ya, it was never my intention." Standing up, he walked over to a small Wal-Mart bag and threw the cotton ball inside, undoubtedly being the closest thing to a trash can. Looking up at him with a rather sheepish expression, she nodded slowly.

"Thank you." She'd gotten this far without him doing anything, and she assumed that if he were going to harm her, he would have done it already.

****

Hearing the knock on the door, Jake's head snapped up quickly, a hopeful expression crossing his for a moment. That fire quickly blew out when he heard Orlando's voice come from the other side. He started to stand, but Eddie shook his head, signaling that he'd get the door. Walking over, he pulled the door over, a slightly hopeful look that maybe Faithe happened to be with him. He wasn't too hopeful though, which meant there wasn't much disapointment when he saw a wet Orlando in front of him, alone. Closing the door behind him, he exhaled a deep breath.

Standing rather anxiously, Jake looked at him, searching his face. "I don't suppose you've seen Isabelle, have you?" There wasn't much hope in his voice as he spoke, but he figured that it wouldn't hurt to ask.

As the door opened, Orlando quickly passed through it, eyes darting around in search of Faithe. Opening his mouth to ask where she was, Jake cut him off.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Orlando's face fell and his eyes widened in a sort of panic.

"She's not here?" he asked with an urgent undertone in his voice.

At Jake's negative response, Orlando's brilliant blue eyes turned slate blue with worry, darting from Jake to Eddie, and then turning gray with vacancy, complementing the new look on his face.

"I came over here to talk to her..." he said, in somewhat of a daze. "She was here. She was safe..."

Completely zoned-out due to shock and immense worry, Orlando's hands hung limply to his sides, although the left one was in his pocket, still. His eyes were glazed over with ambiguity and the skin seemed to hang off of his face.

A thousand and one horrifying scenarios flew through Orlando's mind, only worrying him further. Where could she be? In a city like Manhattan, she could be in a million places, having a million things happen to her. For all he knew she was lying face-down in a sewer, being stepped on by drug- addicts. As more terrifying possibilities crossed his mind, the man gradually came back to life, or, something like it.

His breathing was rapid and panicky, and his eyes reflected nothing by worry, fear and dread. Running his fingers over the hairband that remained wound on his right thumb, his left hand's fingers closed tightly around the box in his pocket. Without a second thought, he turned towards the door. Halfway through it, he snapped his head around.

"Where was she headed?"

"If I may ask, Miss Cunningham, what is a young girl like yourself doing out on the streets alone at this hour? Rather unsafe if you ask me." He wasn't being evasive, he just needed to know if she was in some sort of trouble. He had met all sorts of people during all his years on the streets. If she needed help, he was there to give it. Wrapping a tattered, but warm, blanket that Aaron had handed her around her shoulders, she felt the warmth immediately.

"I just...needed to get away for a few hours. Be alone and think." Sighing, she turned her eyes on one of the lanterns, trying to bite down the stinging sensation in her eyes from the prickling tears. Flipping her dark hair off her shoulder, she shivered as the wind hit her neck. The old man nodded, a knowing look on his weathered face.

"Ah, we all need to get away sometimes. Life seems to throw things in our way that seem overwhelming. If we don't get away, we're liable to snap." Years of experience were speaking to her through the voice of Aaron Cutfield. "Just keep in mind, no matter how bad things get, they will get better in time." Offering a warm and compassionate smile, the man reminded Faithe of her mother's father. He was always full of advice, and it usually held quite a bit of wisdom in it. Smiling for the first time since she had walked in nnon Orlando and Demeter, a look of warmth spread over her face.

****

"Whoa, easy!" Eddie grabbed Orlando's arm lightly to prevent him from taking off. "Jake, don't scare the man, and quit scaring yourself. Whenever Isabelle is upset, she goes off for a walk by herself." Letting go of his arm, he walked back over to the couch and sat down.

"I know Eddie, but I've never known her to stay gone this long." Anxiety showed in Jake's face and his tone when he spoke.

Sighing, Eddie nodded. "You also have to take into consideration that, and this isn't aimed at you Orlando, Faithe has never been this upset. At least, not in this sense. Give her time. She'll be back. She's a smart girl. It's raining pretty hard out there, and she probably just ducked into a coffee shop to wait until the rain gets lighter." Sighing, Jake nodded. Eddie was right, Faithe wasn't stupid.

Looking up at Orlando, he shook his head, "What did you need to talk to her about?"

Feeling Eddie's hand on his arm, Orlando's head snapped back to look him in the face. Had the look in the other man's eyes not been what it was, Orlando would have most certainly shook his hand off. Instead, he merely bit his lip and listened. When Eddie had finished, his eyes darted to Jake, trying to judge the situation.

Jake's words confirmed Orlando's thoughts; he was worried, and, therefore, Orlando was worried.

Gnawing on his tongue as Eddie spoke again, Orlando shook his head from side to side. His divination talent was proving itself once more as he got a slight sinking feeling in his stomach. Faithe wasn't just in some coffee shop somewhere... something had happened. He didn't know exactly what, though.

Sighing, he reluctantly shut the door, taking into consideration Jake's calmer expression. He wouldn't go off in search of her, a least not yet.

Glancing at Jake, his eyes rolled just slightly.

"What else?" he replied, slightly condenscendingly.

Catching himself, his face instantly went apologetic.

"Sorry, I'm just... I talked to Demi, and... I don't know how to fix this."

With another sigh, he moseyed over and sat himself on the arm of a chair, shaking his head.

"How do you win back someone's trust when you just slapped them in the face?"

Bob crawled over on his belly and rested his head in her lap. Looking up at her with big brown eyes, Faithe reached up and began stroking his head absentmindedly. Turning her eyes from Bob, she searched Mr. Cutfield's face once more.

"How did you end up on the streets? If you don't mind my asking..." Speaking softly, she had begun to relax, and it was evident in her tone.

"No, I don't mind you askin' one bit. I was a soldier in the Vietnam War. Got promised a lot of money by the government, was over there so long I lost my house and everything. Got back to the states, government didn't give me the money. Happened to a lot of us." Shrugging nonchalantly, he spoke as if the news was nothing different. "Been on the streets ever since."

Shaking her head, Faithe squinted her eyes thoughtfully as she wathed him talk. "I'm sorry. Isn't there anything you could do? A job? Anything?"

"I've had offers in the past, but I've declined. It's not that I don't miss sleeping in a real bed, but I feel like like I make a better contribution out here on the streets. If I had been in a house, I wouldn't have been there tonight to make sure nothing happened to you." Smiling, he reached over and turned one of the lanterns off, causing their surroundings to darken even more. "Now, little one, I would suggest you getting some rest for the remainder of the night. The rain should be gone by the morning."

Nodding, she followed suit and turned the other one off as well. "Thank you again." Laying down, she felt the warm body of Bob laying next to her. Staring at the wall, she sighed inaudibly. There was no way she would be able to sleep, she knew that, but she obliged the old man by lying down. Finally in the darkness once more, she allowed warm tears to fall silently down her cheek.

*****

Jake nodded as he talked, Orlando's short attitude not even phasing him. Sighing, he sat back on the couch. It took him a moment to realize that he had meant his expression figuratively and not literally. Eddie flinched at the comment, it playing a reminder in his head.

"Everything will work out in the end Orlando." Jake was speaking now, rubbing his eyes tiredly. His voice was patient as he spoke, once again picking up the warm coffee cup. "She just needs some time to be alone. Have you made any decisions?" Sipping his coffee slowly, there was a pensive look on his face as he stared at the ground. "You're more than welcome to crash here tonight if you want. I have to get up early and go test some new equipment down on stage. I'll try not to wake you thought if you want to sleep on the couch. The two of you need to talk, and she won't go back to the hotel."

Seeing Eddie's flinch out of the corner of his eye, Orlando glanced up, cringing slightly. He hadn't realized what effect those specific words might have had. In fact, so caught up was he in present affairs, the events of the night before had slipped his mind momentarily. Although, seeing Eddie's reaction, he instantly recalled them.

"Sorry," he murmured, "That wasn't intentional..."

Sighing again, Orlando just shook his head, once more hiding his face with his hands. Of course it would work out in the end, but he couldn't wait that long. He wanted everything to work out- and work out how he wanted it to- right then. Yet, he knew that the only way that would happen was if he took the initiative himself and made it so. But, again, he didn't know quite how...

Raising his head up at Jake's question, Orlando nodded. He loved Faithe, not Demeter; he was sorry for letting physical lust surpass rational thought; he wanted to go back to how things had been that morning... Yes, the man certainly had made some decisions. He was still confused, mind you, but, at least, now, he knew what he wanted in the end.

"You were right," he stated quietly, glancing ever-so-slightly at Jake, "This only thing about Demi that I'm still in love with it the memory. I do love Faithe, now- only Faithe... I just don't know how to make this right- how I'm ever going to make her see that.

"I screwed up royally, and I still can't rationalize exactly how or why it happened. One moment I'm sauntering into our hotel room with a comet certificate under my arm and an engagement ring in my pocket, waiting for the single most amazing woman in the world to walk through the doors, and then, in a split-second, I'm kissing my old girlfriend, who I haven't seen since the day she walked out on me over a year ago... By the time I realize what I'm doing, though, my angel- ma Foi- has already seen it, and my world's fallen apart. I don't want Demeter, but I've inadvertently pushed Faithe away..."

Realizing what had just slipped out of his lips, Orlando's eyes went wide as he warily glanced over at the two men, biting half of his lower lip nervously. How fickle he must seem to thm, going back and forth between Faithe and Demeter like that, and, then, still thinking of asking Gaithe to marry him. Heh... He wasn't worthy of such an honor; he wasn't even worthy of thinking of asking for such a priviledge.

"Please, don't mention that to her," he entreated quietly.

Darting his eyes about in a sort of nervous, sheepish, shifty glance, he resumed gnawing on his tongue and silently scolding himself for making a fool of himself. Closing his eyes for another moment, the second thing Jake had said came back into his mind. Thankful for a new topic, to save what was left of his dignity, he quickly opened his mouth to comment on it.

"I won't be sleeping tonight," he stated somberly, "But, if you're sure that you wouldn't mind, I would like to wait up for her here, because we do need to talk..."

Eddie shook his head at Orlando's apology, "No need. I deserved it."

Jake leaned in as Orlando spoke, nodding with acknowledgement that his advice had been worth something. It was sort of weird to be listening to this man talk about how much he loved his sister. Not because of who he was, but just because his sister had never been the relationship type. He had seen many guys show an advent interest in her, and she had inadvertanly broken many hearts because she was just never interested in dating anybody.

quote:
...an engagement ring in my pocket


Jake's eyes shot open and his jaw dropped to the ground. He was in too much shock to speak, but his mouth was moving as if he were trying to say something. Eddie's grip on the chair tightened considerably, but he did an effective job of hiding the anger that was secretly brewing up inside of him.

As he asked the two not to mention the news to Faithe, Jake silently nodding, finally managing to close his mouth. Mom and Dad are not going to be too happy about this... That was true. Debbie and Mark had secretly had their hearts set on Faithe one day marrying Eddie, or at least some other man in theatre. Particularly, their theatre. He like Orlando, though, and was willing to do whatever he needed to help him win Faithe back.

The wheels in his head began turning, and a pensive stare overtook his face. He was needing to test some stage equipment in the morning, and he was going to get Faithe up there to help. Knowing she would object, he would press until she gave in. She needed something to take her mind off of everything. Snapping his fingers suddenly, he sat up straighter.

"I have an idea. Eddie, will you help us? This may involve the two of you pulling an all nighter at the hotel." A mischevious grin spread over his boyish face, almost hiding the exhaustion in his eyes.

A bright, embarrassed blush rouged Orlando's cheeks as Jake's mouth hung open and his eyes grew wide. Thankfully, the combination of the room's darkness and Orlando's tanned skin downplayed the reddening effect. Biting half his lower lip again, he resumed gnawing nervously on his tongue as he waited for the man's reply to his request.

Silently sighing with immense relief, Orlando's mind cleared a little bit more. Faithe couldn't know; her knowing would be taking too great of a risk. She would either realize just how much he did love her, and reconicilation would be closer to his grasp. Or, what he feared more, she would find him to be fickle and arrogant, daring to hold onto such a possession when he had just kissed his ex-girlfriend the day before. Certainly that wouldn't bode well for their relationship...

As Jake's face was overcome with a pensive look and silence once more cloak the room, Orlando gnawed harder on his tongue. There seemed to be a tension in the room that one could cut with a knife, and he didn't exactly appreciate it. His brilliant blue eyes darted from Eddie to Jake and then back around random places in the room.

At Jake's snap, Orlando nearly jumped, caught off guard. As the man explained the basic idea, a wary expression contorted Orlando's face. He hadn't ever been much of a singer, or musical person at all for that matter. Still, the romantic side of him couldn't help but find Jake's idea absolutely endearing. Nodding with a grateful smile at Jake, he shrugged, and then cast a glance at Eddie.

"Should we get going then?" he asked.

Standing up, Eddie forced a smile that could easily be read as genuine towards Orlando and nodded. Sighing, he stretched his arms out to relieve the stress of sitting most the night. "Yup! Time for voice lessons 101! See ya at the hotel. I'll probably need you to open the door for me since I can't apparate directly into the room." Closing his eyes, Eddie disapeared from the apartment.

Jake stood and stretched out his hand. "Good luck. He's a perfectionist, don't take what he says personally." Winking, he grinned at Orlando. "Let's get the two of you back together. Or at least try. Keep in mind, this may not fix the problem entirely. It will, however, let her know that you're willing to sacrifice yourself for her, and it will let her know that she is the one you want to be with."

****

Hearing a soft noise, Faithe rolled over. She hadn't slept a wink, but she had been dazed, almost as out of tune with her surroundings as a post traumatic shock patient. Sitting up, she expected to see Mr. Cutfield walking around, but found that he had somehow slipped out without her knowing. Wrinkling her eyebrows, she stood up. Bob was still there, still sleeping.

Looking around outside the house, she found him nowhere, and decided he had already taken off. She wanted to thank him one last time, but knew she couldn't wait forever. Jake would be worried sick, and she was probably in for a lecture. Big brothers... Of course, she couldn't blame him one bit.

The rain had quit just a few hours ago, and though most the clouds had disapated, there was still a good amount of cloud coverage to cover the blinding sun. Shivering slightly from her clothes that were still slightly dampened from the rain, she made her way towards Jake's. Walking past a parked car, she looked at her reflection in the tinted window. Her hair was a mess, her clothes slightly dirty, and the cut was about two inches along, running adjacant to her eyebrow. She looked like a street bum all right.

Reaching the building, she climbed the stairs. Entering the apartment quietly, her eyes fell on the image of her brother who had clearly falled asleep on the couch. Wincing, she tip toed into her room and grabbed a fresh pair of clothes. Taking a quick shower, she now stood, dressed in a pair of jeans and a light blue tank top. Pulling out some rubbing alcohol, she applied some by way of Q-tip to the cut, biting her lip so hard she almost broke the skin. Whimpering from the pain, she quickly put the bottle back underneath the sink.

Walking out, she soon found herself standing in front of a not so happy looking Jake Cunningham. Her gaze dropped to the ground, knowing he was angry with her. Expecting him to yell at her, she braced herself. Sighing, Jake reached down and lifted her cheek, his eyebrows furrowing at her face. "What in the world happened?" His anger was replaced by worry, expecting the worse. She was mugged...I knew something would happen.

Shaking her head, she pulled her face out of his hand, "I'm all right. I fainted, and I think I skinned it on the cement. Somebody helped me though..." Speaking softly, she bit her bottom lip. She hated it when Jake was upset with her, even if he had justification, she didn't like the tension from him.

Pulling her into a tight hug, he sighed again. "Don't scare me like that again kiddo. Especially after you told me you wouldn't be out late." Pulling back, he kept his hands on her shoulders, a small smile spreading over his face. "Just for making me worry, you get to be my helper today. We got a bunch of equipment yesterday, and guess who gets to test it?"

Immediately, Faithe began shaking her head. "No, Jake please." There was a soft pleading in her tone as she looked at him. "I'm not in the mood."

"Normally I would care, but not today." He knew that by saying that, she wouldn't think that he was saying he didn't care that she was upset, so he had no worries about that. "Izzy, you need to do something besides mope around. Now come one, you owe me. You know you're going to end up on stage anyways, so you may as well just not argue a losing battle."

Sticking her tongue out, she sighed, nodding slowly. "Fine...what am I singing?" The reluctance in her voice was quite obvious, but Jake didn't care. Taking her hand, he started dragging her towards the door.

"Lovely. Kayte is still sleeping, but she'll know to come downstairs when she wakes up. I figured you could go through On My Own, and then when Eddie gets here, I want to test the two mics together, so you guys can sing A Heart Full of Love since you two have performed that together." Speaking authoritatively, Jake walked quickly down the steps, Faithe in tow.

"I'm not kissing him."

"I'm not testing whether or not you can kiss him. I'm testing microphone."

*****

"All righty, you know it, you're good. Let's head back to the theatre. We can enter through the back. He's going to have her on stage with another song so she doesn't get a chance to see you there before you go on stage." The night had been a test of patience. Not because of Orlando's inability to sing, Eddie was actually quite surprised the man had a decent voice. Another plan had been brewing inside of his head...

*****

Well gee Jake, stick your poor heart broken sister on the stage. She only walked in on the love of her life kissing an old flame, and now you want her to sing a song about a girl who's in love with a man she can never have.

Hearing the familiar introduction to the song, Faithe cleared her throat. Tears had already started forming in her eyes as she thought about how closely she could relate to the words that were coming out of her mouth. The only thing Faithe had been singing the past couple days had been lullabies, and her voice had been soft and low. Now, as she stood in an empty theatre, a microphone clipped on her shirt singing a rather powerful vocal song, her voice was much stronger. Loud and powerful, but still beautiful, despite the tears that were now cascading down her cheeks. How much she wanted the song to end...

The genuineness of Eddie's smile was something slightly unnerving to Orlando, only because he hadn't ever seen the good side of the man before. Then again, he thought, it was always possible that he had misjudged him originally. Gears in his mind whirring, he resolved to forget about Eddie's seeming split-personality disorder and just go with him. Lifting a hand, he waved the man off and turned his attention to Jake.

Shaking Jake's hand, Orlando offered a nervous sort of smile. If he had been studying something he actually knew with Eddie, like painting or something, it would have been entirely different. Yet, he wasn't. Singing, and music in general, had never been something that intrigued Orlando the same way as Astronomy or visual art. Now, he was volunteering to be put in a room alone with a split-personality scumbag/nice-guy who was going to be teaching him how to sing a love duet in order to win back the girl that both of them loved. Something about this just doesn't seem right...

Shrugging it off, he nodded in response to Jake's latter comment.

"I know," he replied with a half-hearted grin, "Nothing it going to fix it entirely...

"Thanks, though, for..." For what? For letting me sing a song? That sounded too stupid, even in Orlando's barely awake mind "Everything," he finished. Nodding once more in gratitude, he shut his eyes and apparated back to the hotel.

All through the "rehearsal" poor Orlando remained completely nervous, and, as a result of that, his voice remained buried in his throat. True, he had a reasonably nice voice, but when he sang with it in his throat, its tone was rather hidden. Still, he didn't sound completely horrible, and whatever Eddie's comments were didn't seem to affect him too much- emotionally or vocally. It was as though his voice was just going to be how it was- hazy and quieted. What the man really needed to do was to just lay his emotions out there and put them into the song, but, as aforementioned, he hadn't the experience nor innate knowledge to do so. As he went through the words and repeating melodies, he began to wonder exactly what he was doing. Going up and singing a song on a stage with quite a few random people- theatre people, who could all sing much, much better than he- lurking about in hopes of winning back Faithe? Insanity...

Then again, if Jake had brought it up, he probably knew more about Faithe than Orlando in that regard, and he would trust the other man. After all, he was already in up to his neck in bad; if it didn't work out well, then what, truly, did he have to lose? His dignity, for one... Then again, the only people in that theatre whose opinions of him really mattered were Faithe, Jake and Eddie, and he'd already taken away his own dignity in their mind's with the events of the past night.

Mentally sighing, he held out the final note for the seventeenth time and cast a wary glance at Eddie, hoping that they were done. ((Insert that "All righty, you know it..." bit here)) Breathing a sigh of relief at his response, Orlando nodded, a small yawn escaping his mouth as he shut his eyes and popped backstage.

Waiting for Eddie to appear next to him, or, at least, hoping he would, Orlando's ears picked up the beauitfully familiar voice of his Faithe. Craning his next, he nonchalantly crept into one of the stage legs and stood behind the bunched up masque curtain, leaning his ear in towards the gorgeous siren's song. Although he had only caught the last little bit, 'twas enough.

I love him

But everyday I'm learning

All my life, I've only been pretending

Without me, his world will go on turning

A world that's full of happiness that I have never known

As Faithe's gorgeous voice cresendoed to the held pitch, Orlando felt a the knife of remorse take another stab into his chest. True, the words weren't exact to their situation, but they were close enough to affect Orlando, and, by the looks of things, they were getting to Faithe as well.

I love him

I love him

I love him

But only on my own

Then as the strong forte regressed to a soft, yet still emotionally strong pianisimo, Orlando felt another stab. This part fit. It was as like though Faithe's emotions were vivid as the forte part of the song, she would keep them inside her; though she loved him, she wouldn't let him see. Guilt. Remorse. Pain.

((Hope you don't mind, but, seeing as I leave in less than 24 hours, and I wanna cover as much plot as possible, I'm just going to continue...))

Seeing the tears falling down her cheeks, he had to fight back the urge to hold her in a tight embrace and wipe them off her face. He couldn't do that, and he knew it. But there was something he could do. Slowly taking a step out on the stage, quietly though, as to not attract Faithe's attention, he nodded to whomever it was that was in charge of the music.

As the four bars of intro flew by, Orlando blocked everything else out, save his Faithe and the song. Barely on stage, he took a few more steps towards the downstage, not quite enough to put him next to Faithe, though; he wanted to stand behind her. Oddly enough, he was no longer nervous; instead, fueled with emotion from watching Faithe sing, he was almost ready to do this. With a deep breath, he opened his mouth to sing.

"A heart full of love..."

His voice had opened up, and, rather than keeping his baritone ((yeah, yeah, Marius is a tenor... dommage :oP)) voice inside his throat, rang out through the theatre. Surprisingly, the man sounded as though he just might have belonged there. Perhaps he was a chorus guy, whose voice no one had ever heard on an individual level before. Then again, the sorrow in just those three quick 3/4 measures and the emotion that saturated them wasn't exactly characteristic of a chorus member.

"A heart full of song..."

The man's strong voice swelled over the held pitches, echoed throughout the hall as his eyes wandered over to Faithe.

"I'm doing everything all wrong. Oh, God, for shame..."

It was clear that those particular lyrics hit close to home for Orlando as his voice faltered slightly, almost speaking the words with inflected frustration rather than singing them. Not to mention the fact that he split them oddly, pairing the exclamation with the preceeding phrase rather than allowing it to reflect Marius' regret for not knowing Cosette's name.

"I do not even know your name, dear Mademoiselle..."

Those lyrics lost the emotion slightly, as there was nothing in Orlando's mind to back them up with, yet the word "Mademoiselle" made up for it as he somehow managed to sing it with a perfect French accent.

((I don't like the original version here, so I'm using London's lyrics. It seems to fit better...))

"I am lost in your spell..."

Gradually decrescendoing over the last word, he glanced over at Faithe, trying to meet her gaze. What was she thinking? Was she going to sing? Would she just run off-stage? Would she think he was Eddie? Now that he had a measure or so to think, all these questions ran amuck through his mind. Silently raising his eyebrows in a remorseful, apologetic, sympathetic look, in case she did glance over at him.

Landing a few from Orlando, Eddie peaked around the corner, catching a glimpse of Faithe. It had been so long since he'd heard her sing like that, and he would admit, her voice was one of the things he loved most about her. Seeing her up there crying killed him, but he knew there was nothing he could do, and it wasn't his place. Turning back to Orlando as she finished the song, he handed him a microphone. Setting him up with the small black piece of technology on his shirt, and an earpiece in his left ear, he sighed.

"Now, at the end of the song, Jake will kill both of the mics. Not only for your privacy, but also because if he doesn't, the entire building is going to be filled with an amazingly painful high pitched noise that nobody will appreciate." Raising his eyebrows, he took a deep breath and exhaled it. He was so pumped with coffee right now that the caffeine was causing his body to shake, and he was having a hard time standing still. "Right, well good luck. I'm going up front with Jake. We'll both be leaving after your final note. Don't be afraid to get close to her..."

A few minutes later, Eddie found himself standing next to Jake. Crossing his arms, he took another deep breath, his eyes on Faithe.

"How did he do?" Jake asked without his gaze flickering from Faithe.

"He did all right. There's potential, he's just hiding it." Shrugging, he looked down at the equipment in front of the two. Looking back up, he saw Orlando walk out onto the stage.

Faithe had been facing the opposite direction from where Orlando entered the stage. There were certain idioms that she still found herself doing when she ran through songs from when she had performed them on stage in front of an audience. Reaching up, she ran her hands over her cheeks, brushing away the tears. Why she did this was beyond her because they were quickly replaced by more tears.

Hearing the first word, her heart stopped beating, so it felt like it anyways. That's not Eddie... Turning around, there was a look of fear in her eyes as Orlando's figure stood in front of her. Backing up, her head starting shaking slowly.

"Izzy, you know that if you don't make it through this song, you aren't leaving the stage until you do." Her brother's voice sounded inside her ear as he spoke to her through the earpiece. Knowing he was right, Faithe fought every urge in her body to run away. Or at least try to...

Trying to will herself to stop crying, but not having any luck, her eyes fell to the ground beside her. For the first time in her life, she felt frozen, unable to think clearly. Unaware, she hadn't even realized she had started singing until she heard her own voicer echoed throughout the empty auditorium.

A heart full of love

Inside her head she was currently plotting the demise of one Jacob Cunningham and one Edward Polazzo. She had tried so hard to hide her emotions from Orlando, but she had been crying for so long, it was impossible for her to stop. Her voice had come out somewhat choked, causing her to wince at the sound.

No fear, no regret.

No, she didn't feel regret. Fear, on the other hand, was plainly visible in her eyes. She loved him so much, but she felt so betrayed. He was justified though... She had been telling herself that all night, and she believed it. Too bad the phrase she had been repeating silently didn't help the pain to ease at all. She had felt unworthy of him in the beginning, and his actions had simply proved her theory. She could never make him as happy as he deserved, and Faithe felt she could cope with that...in time.

Hearing that beautiful voice, Orlando's heart skipped a beat. At first, when he had seen that look of utmost fear and other miscellaneous emotions flood the young woman's eyes, Orlando was sure it was all over- that she was just going to calmly walk off the stage. Knowing that Jake had had to have had something to do with her staying, he made a mental note to thank the man immensely somehow later, after all hell had blown over.

As tears remained streaming down the girl's face and her eyes darted down- boring into the ground, or so it seemed- Orlando had to, once more, fight the urge to go over and physically comfort her. It was too soon, he knew, and if he tried to, it wouldn't work. She would push him away, and that would only worsen the delicate situation the two of them were in.

"A heart full of love..."

Please see how sorry I am... Thoughts flooded Orlando's mind as voice reflected his inner emotions. Regret topped off the list, ironically countering the previous "Cosette" line Faithe had just sung. Honestly, the man didn't know how to begin to make it up to Faithe. He had worked so hard to gain her trust, which wasn't an easy thing for anyone to earn, and then, almost sardonically, betrayed it.

"A heart full of you..."

The lyrics lended themselves so well to the point the man was trying to make- to the confession he was endeavoring to make to her. Why wasn't just plain, simple love ever enough? There were always outside forces and other emotions involved. Why couldn't he just tell her that he loved her, have her say the same, and then be done with it? Why all the complications?

'Because,' he answered himself, 'you screwed up...'

With a silent sigh, he glanced over, hoping that Faithe had sung along on that last line, then continued.

"I saw you waiting, and I knew..."

Faithe was waiting alright...for an absolution that would- seemingly- never come. The further he got through the song, the more Orlando seemed to think that whatever he had had with Faithe was gone. She was hurt, and he couldn't exactly blame her. But, in the minute or two they had been onstage together, her tears hadn't seemed to be ending, and there hadn't been any sign of her pain relenting either. Closing his eyes for a moment, he silently hoped for some sort of sign that she didn't want to never speak to him again. Not that he really expected her to wrap her arms around him or anything; no, Orlando did have a bit of realism in his idealistic mind. Maybe just a soft, pleasant glance...

"A heart full of you..."

Her voice was becoming stronger, which, she found, often happened when she sang the truth. She didn't know how much longer she could handle this. It was getting harder and harder for her to breath. Biting her bottom lip, she glanced up at him for a moment, a very short moment. Though she was hurt beyond belief, she still loved him more than anything, and no matter how many emotions were running through her, that love was still evident in her eyes. What was he doing here? Why wasn't he with Demeter?

Sighing, Jake picked up the tiny mic that fed into Orlando's earpiece, "Do something. She's unsure of everything going on, she won't make any move until you do..." Sitting the mic down and flipping the switch off he sighed, "Assuming she does." Eddie was biting his lip in an attempt not to smile. Yes, he hated seeing Faithe like this, but the more he crashed and burned, the more he was pushing Faithe towards him, Eddie Polazzo.

"Waiting for you..."

Inside of her, the thing she had been longing for the most to come walking back through her door was standing in front of her. However, she felt...intimidated? Scared? Hurt was a definate. Feeling a small bead of sweat slip into her open cut, her face winced. Reaching up, she ran her finger gingerly along the small wound. That certainly didn't tickle... Lifting her head slightly to prevent anything of the sort happening in the future, she closed her eyes for a moment, allowing two more tears to slip down her cheeks.

Jake's words rang through Orlando's mind. Why was he hearing Jake's voice? It took Orlando a moment, but then he realized that Jake's voice wasn't a hallucination- it was coming from the earpiece Eddie had put on him before he went out. Well, that was nice... He was going completely crazy with nerves.

Now that he had figured that out, though, there was still that little matter of the meaning of Jake's words. And what, exactly, am I suppsoed to do? Orlando wanted to ask, but he knew that his words would simply carry out into the audience and to Faithe rather than just to Jake's ear as his had done for him.

He really wanted to walk over and take Faithe in his arms, hold her close to him and tell her how sorry he was and how much he loved her, but the song wasn't over... not yet, at least.

The man was a complete nervous wreck in spite of the fact that he was standing within three feet of the person who knew more about him than any other living or nonliving being in the entire world. He had been comfortable enough with her to tell her absolutely everything, from just making dumb Orlando-y comments, to recounting his tragic abusive past... Now, he couldn't even make himself touch her arm.

Jake was right, though... yet again. It would have to be him to make the first move, yet Orlando didn't want to. Not now, at least. Not in the middle of a song, not on a stage, and certainly not in front of all two people that sat in the audience. He felt somehow vulnerable. Of course, in that same regard, he knew Faithe felt more vulnerable than he.

As he slowly took a few cautious steps in her direction, it was obvious that trepidation flooded his veins. He was heinously nervous. He didn't want to do this. What if she flinched and moved away? Not only would he feel the sting of rejection, but Eddie and Jake would see it too...

But if he didn't do it, it wouldn't get done.

Biting his lip and gnawing feverishly on his tongue, he hesitantly reached out a hand and gently, but very cautiously, cupped the far side of Faithe's face in it, slowly turning her face towards him.

"At your feet..." he sang, almost quietly, yet still strong.

His eyes were wide with emotion, silently begging her not to turn away.

Blinded by her tears, she hadn't noticed him stepping towards her. She didn't know when it had started, but she suddent became very aware that she was shaking like a leaf. Feeling his hand on her cheek, her eyes closed as he turned her head, but she allowed his hand to lead her. Looking into his face, her eyes clouded with more tears. All she wanted to do was curl up in his arms and cry, but she knew it was impossible.

"At your call..."

Though the words made it out of her mouth, they just barely escaped her lips. Her voice cracked, but she knew she just needed to hold out, the song was almost over. Leaning her head slightly into his hand, she reached up, touching his hand lightly before dropping her arm back down. She was still unsure and scared about why he was here, and she couldn't let herself be pulled back into this if he was just here to tell her he was leaving her for Demeter.

Picking up the microphone feeder, Eddie flipped the switch on to leave Orlando with a few words before he left. "Don't forget the kiss at the end, if you're brave enough. After your last words, the mics go off, and we're leaving."

"And it isn't a dream/not a dream after all."

Somehow she managed to pull her voice together for the last few lines. Hitting that high octave on the word 'all,' she moved her head back some so she wasn't singing abnormally loud in Orlando's face. So caught up with holding that note out, Faithe hadn't even noticed that the mics had been turned off as soon right before she cut off that note.

Looking into Faithe's eyes, Orlando's blue ones were beginning to moisten. Her eyes were a gateway to her soul, and he could tell how hurt she was. Scared, too, but mostly hurt... Thankful that she hadn't moved away, he bit his lips together as she sang, then took one last breath to tide him over the last ending chord. At her touch, Orlando visibly relaxed, glad that things were at least seeming to go well.

"And it isn't a dream," he sang, tilting his head to let his gaze melt into hers, "Not a dream after all..."

Singing the last, deep note, his voice finally lived up to its potential, and it was amazing. Rich, smooth and strong, it resounated off the theatre walls, perfectly meshing with Faithe's high note.

Eddie's voice echoed in his head: "if you're brave enough." No, it wasn't about bravery; it was about the moment. If it fit, then it would be done, but if she wasn't ready, then he would respect that. Maybe that's why Eddie hadn't ever been able to win Faithe over; he didn't understand her. A kiss couldn't just happen- it had to fit.

But, for whatever reason, as the final chord died out, it did seem to fit. Gently turning her head back towards him, Orlando placed his other hand tenderly behind Faithe's neck and offered a single, short, sweet kiss. Pulling his head back, he wiped the tears from her face and bit his lip once more; it was all he could do to stop himself from crying as well. Letting his hands slide down to her back, he guided her into his chest, firmly embracing her.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear, laying his head on her shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Faithe..."

There were a million other things he wanted to tell her. How it had come about, Jake's advice, how worried he had been about her last night, that he didn't love Demeter at all anymore... But, caught up in the moment, he didn't want to waste his breath simply explaining everything to Faithe. He had gone a night without her in his arms, and it had been too much. Now, all he wanted to do was hold her.

The sound of his voice moved her deeply as they harmonized the last pitch, their voices sounding as if they had been made for each other. Then again, Faithe had thought the two had been made for each other. Still shaking more than a rattlesnake's tail ((oh my gosh...I so live in the south!)), Faithe's eyes closed as she felt the familiar touch of his hand on her neck, her judgement died out as she felt his lips on hers.

Feeling herself being pulling into him, she rested her head on his chest, her eyes shut tighter. She wanted everything to be back to the way it was this time yesterday morning. Everything perfect, everything in place. But as she stood there, the familiar scene of Orlando kissing Demeter played before her eyes like a video. A small cry escaped her lips as she pulled away from him as if she had just been burned.

"Why are you here?" Her words came out through her tears, but it didn't sound like an accusation, just a mere question. Every bone in her body was aching to allow herself to fall into this man's arms. Ever since it had happened, Faithe had been wanting nothing more than to be with him, but she couldn't trust him. She loved him more than anything in this world, and would die for him in a heartbeat, but she couldn't trust him right now.

She was petrified, and all of her fear shone in her brown eyes. The pain was there too, but now fear was beginning to overwhelm her and her shaking was becoming worse. Whether it was because of the situation, or because when she had fallen during the night she had hit her head worse than she'd originally thought, Faithe felt like she was about to be sick.

((Note: Orlando's not saying this all at once, but I wanted you to have something to write while I'm gone, and he'd say all this eventually. So, please excuse the massive dialogue, but I didn't feel like balancing each sentence out with the paragraph of emotion. You're clever enough; you don't need to be told what he's thinking))

As Faithe's head rested comfortably on his chest and she was once again hugged in his embrace, everything was perfect again. The world stopped; in that one single moment, Orlando felt comfortable again- completely at ease. His arms just wrapped around her body, not playing with her hair, or stroking her back, but simply being around her, holding her gently, yet firmly, against him. There wasn't a thing in the world he would have traded for that moment right there. But, just as all good things do, that moment had to end.

Hearing her quiet cry, his arms loosened around her and his head cocked itself, glancing at her with concern. What's wrong?' his face asked, but, after feeling her push away, the question was answered. Orlando had known that things couldn't just fall back into place like that, although he had hoped that, somehow, they just would- just this once.

Allowing her to pull away from him, he pursed his lips together, feeling his face burn with a shameful blush. It wasn't that he was ashamed of what he had just done, but rather the haunting memory of himself kissing Demeter that brought the somber look to the man's face. The memory of Faithe's face when she had seen them wasn't one that would vanish quickly, if ever.

At her question, Orlando felt himself grow weak in the knees for more than one reason. First, her voice- the weakness in it, the way she shook when she spoke, and, more than anything, the hurt it carried in the undercurrent- killed him. Then the words themselves; it was as though she didn't know. And, Orlando couldn't blame her for not trusting him. He had just betrayed her totally and completely; why should she trust him? The answer was simple: she shouldn't. And, though he knew that, it didn't help ease the pain that not having her trust brought him. He felt alone, rejected, and, most of all, regretful.

Faithe was second-guessing him. She didn't know that he was here to make it up to her, and, even if she wanted to think that, Orlando knew that thoughts of Demeter must have been plaguing the poor young woman's mind. In fact, she was probably wondering if he'd come back just to tell her that they were over. So very far from the truth that was, though.

He was there because she was; wherever she would go is where he would follow. The one night they had spent apart was enough of a hell to last his entire life. If he never went one more day without Faithe, he would die an elated man. He had come to make reparations- to try and make her see that she was the one he wanted, loved and cared more about than anything in the world.

"Because you are," he answered quietly, voice cracking slightly as he spoke.

Looking into her fearful eyes, his heart ached to calm her- to make everything in her world better again, but that wasn't something that he could just do with a wave of his wand. She was shaking more, just then, due to the fear, Orlando presumed. Hesitantly, the man reached out his hands, placing them on either side of Faithe's shoulder. Fighting the urge to pull her back into him, he just stood like that for a moment, trying to comfort the girl as best he could.

How could he tell her everything he wanted to? Orlando didn't even know where to begin, or what to say. Swallowing, he tilted his head downward, looking into Faithe's eyes, hoping she could see his sincerity.

"I love you, Faithe," he repeated quietly, "And I know I screwed up last night, and I'm sorry for hurting you. Please believe me when I say that I would do anything to take away that pain I caused you. I wish I could tell you that I'm sorry for kissing Demeter, but that would be lying, and I won't lie to you, ma Foi- I can't- I'm not sorry for doing that, because that was the only way for me to finally completely end whatever lingering fantasies were left in my mind.

"Do you remember the first morning we had together? The one after I had finally gotten you back on a broomstick? You asked me if I missed Dem, and I told you that I did, but that the part of her I missed was long gone. When I saw her last night, though, it didn't seem like that, and, in that moment, it was like I was living in the past, but I wasn't. She was something I'd spent a year of my life dwelling on, and longing to return to me, and then, in that moment, she did- but it wasn't how I had been playing it in my mind for so long. Now I know that I'm never going to love her again. She'd changed, and I'd changed; we couldn't just go back to what we had had before. And, in that moment, I realized that it was never going to be the same.

"And, you know what, Faithe? I'm glad that it can't be like that, and I don't mind a single bit, because what you and I have had this weekend- and since that night- has been so much better than anything I could have ever imagined having with her. She was never someone that I could trust like I can trust you- she never even had a clue about my relationship with my parents, or the shark bite on my leg. I never felt like I could tell her that sort of thing. Heck, even when she finally saw the scar on my thigh, she didn't even seem to care the slightest bit.

"But, Faithe," he said, lifting one of his hands up to gently caress her face, "you care. And, more than that, you're absolutely amazing. You're beautiful, completely brilliant, passionate, considerate, funny, adorable, and positively perfect. Not having you in my arms last night was torture, because I knew that I had pushed you away- I'd betrayed you. And then, when Jake told me that he didn't know where you were at three in the morning, I only felt worse, because, Faithe, if something had happened to you, I wouldn't have ever forgiven myself."

There was still so much more Orlando knew he had wanted to say, but for some reason he could no longer remember any of it. He was lost in a sea of emotions- incapable of racking his brain for the last lingering details of everything he wanted her to know.

"And I can't forgive myself for what I did to you, Faithe. not now, and probably not ever," he continued, "You didn't deserve this. I really am just so incredibly sorry."

He let his hand slip from her face, and the other one slip down her arm from her shoulder. Absentmindedly, he glanced towards the ground, putting his hands in his pockets.

"How can I ever get you to trust me again?" he whispered, more of a thought aloud than an actual question, although he wouldn't have completely minded an answer.

Pulling away from Orlando's embrace was, she found, the hardest thing she had ever had to do. For a mere moment, Faithe had felt that elation she held with Orlando. Hearing him say those three beautiful words, she closed her eyes, two small tears fell down her wet cheeks, leaving more of a watery stream. She wanted to run away, scream at him to stop. Faithe never thought there be a day where hearing somebody say they love her would hurt her so much. Then again, she never thought there would be a day when somebody would tell her that they love her.

Opening her eyes, she searched the curtain behind him before finally settling on his face. Shaking her head slowly, she finally met his eyes, "Orlando, if there were 'lingering fantasies' about her in your mind, then I'm not enough for you; I obviously can't fulfill you like she did." There was no bitterness to her tone, but there was a pang of guilt I in the inflection of her voice. She felt guilty that she couldn't be enough for him. Then again, she had never been enough for anybody. Everybody has these expectations for her, her parents in particular, but she could never measure up.

quote:

She'd changed, and I'd changed; we couldn't just go back to what we had had before. And, in that moment, I realized that it was never going to be the same.

"What if she hadn't changed Orlando? What if she was the same person that you had fallen in love with when the two of you were younger? Would you still be here or would you be with her?" For the first time since everything had happened her words came out sounding bitter. Wincing at the sound of her own voice, Faithe buried her face in her hands.This wasn't her. She wasn't bitter, she was hurt and upset. Looking back up at him, there was an apologetic expression all over her face, "I'm sorry. That shouldn't have come out like that."

quote:

I don't mind a single bit

Her head shot up at those six words, "You don't mind?" She hadn't even heard the rest of that sentence before cutting him off. There was an incredulous expression on her face as she shook her head, that look of utmost pain in her eyes. "Well, that's a comforting thought Orlando. It's nice to know that the man I've been having a relationship with for the last seven months doesn't mind being with me." Deep down, Faithe knew that wasn't what he meant, she was being overemotional and taking everything to heart. Every word that came from his mouth tore her to pieces. Listening to his words of trust, her eyes fell to the ground. Bitter thoughts clouded her mind, and she was ashamed of every single one of them.

Feeling his hand on her cheek, her eyes closed and tilted instinctively towards the warmth that radiated from his touch. Listening to his words, tears continued to cascade down her cheeks unceasingly. Her eyes opened in a look of surprise when he mentioned talking to Jake at 3 in the morning. She reached up absentmindedly and ran her finger across the cut above her eyebrow. Listening to his final words, her brown eyes stared at the stage to her left. As his hand fell down, she forced herself to turn her eyes on him.

She knew he was hurting because of all this as well. As much as she just wanted to close the distance between the two, she knew better. Rubbing her temples tiredly, Faithe closed her eyes deep in thought.

"I don't know Orlando." The paleness of her complexion, the redness of her eyes, and the tired resolution in her voice all showed how exhausted she was. "I don't think there is anything you can do." Looking at him, she reached out and took his hand in hers, "I love you more than anything, but right now, I don't feel like I can trust you." Those had to be the most painful words Isabelle Faithe Cunningham had ever had to say in her entire life, and it was proven by how the words were choke with emotion. "I know things will fall back into place with us, if they're meant to be. I just..." Sighing, she let go of his hand and began taking the mic and earpiece off of her.

"I don't know what to do..." There was a desperation in her voice, but that was nothing compared to the lost expression that radiated from her eyes. Setting the small bundle of wire and pieces on the stage, she checked her watch. "Will you please make sure that Jake and Eddie get those back?" Somehow she managed to bring her eyes to his, but she couldn't hold her gaze to him, her eyes immediately overfilling with tears.

"I have to go..." Speaking almost inaudibly, Faithe tucked a small strand of hair behind her ear. "I have an appointment in an hour."

For one single moment, it seemed like it was all going to be alright. But, just as before, that moment of lingering hope faded as Faithe pulled herself away from him and began to speak. Each word cut into him with as much real pain as if she had been inscribing those words into his heart with a sort of magic knife. Her eyes, whose typical glow was now tainted with pain, seemed to stare right into him as her words, which might have sounded bitter had Orlando not seen the truth in them, accompanied the glare. It was funny how, in the whole verbose little speech he had just made, Faithe nitpicked his sincere words apart and seemed to twist them for mordant pleasure, but, knowing that wasn't Faithe's nature, Orlando tried to remind himself that any disparagement she showed was only a materialization of hurt.

"Look, Faithe," he began, knowing he had made a mistake but refusing to admit it by letting a not derisive, but not quite kind, tone accompany his words, "I know you've never been in a serious relationship before, so you probably won't be able to completely understand this, but when you care that deeply about someone, their memory never completely dies. Now, 'lingering fantasies' probably wasn't the best word choice, so I'm sorry for misleading you on that, but you have to understand that my feelings for Demeter don't manifest themselves into fantasies.

"You already know the story: before I met you, this woman [I]plagued[/I] almost my entire existence; I couldn't get her out of my head. I had loved her more than I thought possible, and getting used to life without that feeling was hard; I had gotten hurt, okay? You know that, Faithe, but maybe you can't understand what it's like trying to get over a breakup whose cause and whose logistics still bewilder you even months after it's happened. It's like waking up one morning and having the sun not appear- you don't have a clue how it happened, but you're forced to succumb to the consequences nevertheless. I don't blame you for not getting it, because you've never experienced something even close, and I hope you never have to, but just try to understand. ((If someone ever said this to me, I think I'd give 'em one good glare and then slam the door in their face))

Shaking his head, the man sighed. [I]Well, that was a nice verbose little psychoanalysis of the human mind.[/I]

"You're right about the not fulfilling me like she did part, Faithe," he continued, glancing down for a moment before meeting her gaze again, "You complete me more than Dem ever could. Never feel like I care about her more than you, Faithe. Even if Dem hadn't changed, I have. I don't love her anymore, Faithe; it's [I]you[/I] whom I love, whom I adore, and you whom I desire with every atom of my being."

Every word Orlando spoke held complete sincerity in it, though, mentally, he was slightly fumbling. Demeter's earlier words were echoing through his mind. What if she was right? What if he had already blown his chance with Faithe? What if Faithe just couldn't understand their past? Though the woman's words had been spoken out of resentful whim, the poor man was so distraught and frustrated by his inability to convey his remorse to Faithe that, crazy as they were, Demeter's words were beginning to hold a certain about of truth. When he had kissed her, the past had revived itself; nothing had changed. And yet, here Orlando was, standing before Faithe trying to convince both her and himself that Demi and he had changed too much for it to work between them. Proved by what evidence was this claim? None. Then why were the words coming through his lips so genuinely? Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Orlando tried to clear his mind of such vile thoughts. He loved Faithe, not Demeter.

"And I'd still be here with you," he declared with unwavering conviction.

That was true; even if the circumstances had been altered in Demeter's favor, Orlando still would have been there with Faithe. He wouldn't ever hurt Faithe over this; he felt some innate need to protect the girl from the pain rejection would most certainly bring her at all costs- even if it mean suppressing his own desire for Demeter; Faithe's agony was too high a price to pay for Demeter. if that was even who he wanted. But then, he wondered, if he wanted Demeter, why did he feel such a longing for Faithe's touch? Surely he couldn't love two women simultaneously. As treacherous as the man's inner conflict was, it didn't show even the slightest bit in his voice or mien. Shaking his head at her apology, he bit his lip as if to say that he had indeed deserved such a remark, although he knew it wasn't meant that way.

[I]"You don't mind?"[/I]

Faithe's words caught him off guard and Orlando's head shot up, snapping almost violently to face hers. Like her, he was allowing his hurt and his pain to corrupt his thoughts, turning them from logic into passionate, emotionally-fueled spiteful remarks, which was much more characteristic of Demeter than Orlando.

"Isn't it just a little audacious of you to pick out a few poorly-chosen phrases and words from a completely earnest apology and manipulate them into something you know they're not just for the purpose of defending yourself? I'm not being the least bit pretentious here, Faithe. Nothing I'm saying was rehearsed; I came here to tell you what happened and what I'm feeling. I'm sorry if I can't translate every emotion perfectly into words; if I'd had thought that's what you wanted, maybe I'd have written up a nice little letter and owled it to you."

For as enthused as the emotions behind the words were, Orlando kept his voice remarkably calm and still allowed it to hold some sincerity. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew that every even slightly scathing comment he made would have to be apologized for later, but, in the heat of the argument- their first fight ever- Orlando couldn't help but let his words get away from him. Biting his lip to prevent another sarcastic remark- again, something that was highly uncharacteristic of him- from escaping, he gnawed on his tongue, unable to explain his erratic behavior.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," he whispered quietly, looking down at the floor.

"Seven months, two weeks and six days," he corrected her a moment later, not at all condescendingly, as his eyes still stared vacantly at the ground.

"Those two-hundred and thirty-seven days have been the most amazing days of my life, Faithe. Even though I haven't been able to be around you for every one of them, just the feeling I got when I'd think of the next time I'd see you, or hear you voice. it was enough."

His voice was more tranquil, reserved, and even more genuine than before, as it commonly was when he was being absolutely honest. Thankful as her head pressed against his hand softly, his fingers moved gently to wipe away the falling tears, gently caressing her cheeks and tenderly running along the outline of her eyes before setting his hands in his pockets.

Absentmindedly, he fiddled with the velvety box in his pocket, as Faithe's soft words confirmed the thoughts in his mind. Trust wasn't something that could be awarded or granted easily; it took time and effort to build it up, and he would just have to wait that building period out. It was killing him though; seeing Faithe in such distress and being so completely powerless to stop her from hurting. Again, Demeter's words rang through his ears, telling him that he had "already blown it" with Faithe. Crippled by frustration, he was beginning to doubt himself again, and the spiteful remark began to ring true to his mind.

As she reached for his hand, Orlando almost didn't let go of the box enclosed in his fingers, partially due to absentmindedness and partially because his subconscious thought it better if he didn't. Yet, at the last moment before his hand escaped the pocket, the box fell, and no one was the wiser.

Her words hurt him, but he retained a somewhat strong look about himself. She had trusted him enough the first night they had spent alone together to allow him to help her face a lifelong fear yet now, after nearly eight months together, she didn't trust him a bit. It was painful and dishonorable to know such a thing, and even more shameful that he didn't know how to earn it back.

Managing a small nod at her request, Orlando removed his electronics as well, folding the cords meticulously and taking Faithe's equipment in his hand as well.

"I'm sorry, Faithe. I do love you, you know that, don't you?"

Her last words caught him off guard. She hadn't mentioned going anywhere Sunday morning before.

"Where are you going?" he asked, taking a step up to be next to her.

Her eyes narrowed as he went his little rampage, her tears still overflowing. "I don't know what it's like? Because I haven't been in a romantic relationship, I don't know what it's like to have somebody I love ripped from my life? Or better yet, thrown from their lives? Gah..Orlando!" She shook her head with an incredulous expression on her face. "I may not have had a boyfriend who devastated my heart, but that doesn't mean I don't know anything. I was a 13 year old helping my 15 year old brother raise his daughter because his girlfriend took off. Don't you think I felt the burdens of that?" Stopping herself, she averted her gaze and took a deep breath, realizing that she was almost yelling. "No, I guess I'm just some naive student."

Burying her face in her hands, she shook her head. Her tears were falling steadier and she was doing everything within her power to fall down and let her emotions run free. Rubbing her eyes, she looked up at him with red eyes. quote:
And I'd still be here with you...


She bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering as he spoke. Her eyes searched his face, knowing that he was speaking from his heart and that his words were truthful. She had been close to throwing her arms around him when he dished out a reprimand. Feeling herself shrink back, her eyes fell to the ground, feeling ashamed because she knew he was right.

Hearing him apologize, she shook her head, "Yes you did." Looking up and meeting his gaze, she shifted uncomfortable, "But I deserved it." He was completely right, and she knew why she was doing it. She was making an attempt to hide behind her pain with anger, but she couldn't be angry at him.

Closing her eyes, when she heard him say that he loves her, she nodded. Opening them, a fresh wave of tears fell down her cheeks, "I love you too." Her voice came out choked with emotion, and almost inaudible. Silently cursing her quivering lip, her eyes fell to the floor once more, "More than anything. I just...I need some time."

Caught off guard that he had stepped up next to her, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I have a meeting."

Silence ensued during Faithe's near-rampage, and Orlando's eyes fell to the ground. Yeah, that had probably been another bad thing to say... Shaking his head, he reached out a hand and ran it along her arm, somewhat comfortingly.

"You're right, I'm sorry."

And that was that... he didn't speak another word about it. Although he might have had some of the innate male jerk traits, he did know when to apologize for being wrong.

He could see that she had been about to hug him, but, by the time he realized it, he was already well underway with his own rampage. Something about Faithe's eyes slinking to the ground gave him a twisted sense of satisfaction, for which he immediately scolded himself. Taking pride in hurting others wasn't something he did, and he didn't like the way it made him.

Sighing at her reply, he shrugged slightly.

"You're right, I did, but, even if you did deserve it, I've caused you enough pain for a lifetime, and I haven't the right to inflict anymore grief upon you, Faithe..."

Nodding at her reply, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her as though it would be the last time he ever would feel her body within his embrace.

"I understand," he replied solemnly, reluctantly pulling away from her. "I can wait."

"What type of meeting?" he inquired, catching her gently by the arm and turning her towards himself.

As soon as he apologized, there was a small twinge of triumph that tugged at her, but she immediately brushed it away. No matter how much she was hurting right now, she did love him, and refused to act on anything she would later regret.

Hearing him apologize once more, she reached up and laid her hand over his lips gently, making a silent motion to silence him. Shaking her head, she bit her bottom lip, "Orlando, stop. Please stop apologizing. It's done and over with." Speaking softly, her tears had finally stopped cascading down her cheeks, but her eyes were still watery.

Feeling his arms embrace her once again, Faithe's eyes closed as her head rested against his chest. A lone tear slipped down her cheek as she buried her face in his chest, only to be pulled away. Wiping her face with her hands, she turned to walk towards the steps again.

Looking at him curiously as he took her arm, she faced him. Shaking her head, she swallowed harshly, "It's not important. I need to go take a shower." Pulling her arm from him gently, she turned and walked down the stairs by the stage. Turning into the hallway, she quickly hopped up the stairs to the apartment, ready for a shower.

At the feeling of her skin upon his lips, Orlando immediately silenced himself, not because she was asking him to, bu because he longed to feel her touch. Nodding, he did oblige her request, though, reaching both hands up in silence to wipe away the remaining water marks upon her cheeks. He knew the pain that he himself was feeling, and that which Faithe must have been bearing had to be a hundred times greater...

As she laid her head upon his chest, Orlando felt a sense of calm overcome come. It was, however, as most moments are, fleeting. Running his hands up and down her back slowly, he kissed her head as he backed off relunctantly.

Trying to search her face, Orlando's divination talents failed him. He hadn't a clue what she was trying to hide. If it really wasn't important, she'd have just come right out and said what it was. Sighing, he gave her a somewhat worried look, but resigned to follow her.

"If you want, I'll meet you back at the hotel around eight tonight to go back to Rosencrantz... if you're not there though, I'll understand..." he called after her.

Sighing, he apparated himself back to the hotel.