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~ Mar

Chapter Eleven: The Monster's Refuge

Bedroom, Hotel de Crillon. 4:00 AM Paris, France

The sun was just peeking under the horizon by the time I woke up. Blaine's cell phone alarm had bothered my composed slumber, allowing me to awake immediately.

I walked over to Blaine's large bed, realizing that he himself had not woken up despite the loud alarm right next to his ears. Still sleeping like a baby, he snored raucously, in no possible condition to wake up at all.

Is it weird that I find his snoring adorable? I thought but then I quickly shook my head to remind myself of the task at hand.

I cleared my throat, preparing to scream loudly. "ACTOR AND SINGER BLAINE ANDERSON!"

Still, no movement. The actor was obviously not a light sleeper, making my mind fill up with a legion of bad and nasty thoughts.

Oh… the things I could do to him as he was sound asleep...

A smirk climbed up my lips as my imagination went wild. I quickly escaped my out-of-this-world fantasies as soon as I recalled my original purpose of standing over the bed: to awake the actor so we wouldn't miss our flight to Bora Bora.

I used my index finger to lift and eyelid of his open. I chuckled as I saw the blank expression in his pupils, bringing inevitable humor to my mind. After a few moments of staring at me blankly, he finally regained his consciousness, glaring at me irritably as he sat up-right.

"Yeah, greeeaaat method for waking someone up." He praised, sarcastically unamused to what I did.

I smirked. "Yes, of course. And quite a funny way, too."

He rolled his eyes indolently at me, making me burst out in complete laughter. Blaine's childish antics were as charming as they were irritating, making me want to squeal loudly like a love-struck fan-girl.

He lifted the blankets over his naked upper-half, making me stare across the tan body with much interest. He eyed me distrustfully as he realized where my eyes were focused, walking impatiently to the bathroom for his morning cleansing routine while trying to escape my depraved vision.

As he came out, he looked as if he was ready to travel. Fully clothed and excitement written all over him. He got a hold of his luggage as I found mine. And within no time at all, we were sneaking out of the hotel, leaving none of our possessions behind in the vacant room.

Once again, as I found myself escaping with him, my heart bounced frantically; ready to leap at the next opportunity to become closer to him.

Paris International Airport. 4:30 AM Paris, France

We abruptly disembarked upon the airport after a short taxi ride. The two of us arrived in the airport carrying our heavy luggage, bringing me back into the familiar setting.

Looks like I can't go to an airport without remembering what Blaine did here. Bastard.

I smelt the same scents and saw the same sights, only this time, a world-renowned actor stood beside me, planning to escape from his most sharpened talent.

The two of us moved swiftly over to the baggage inspection area. The two of us got hold of our black suitcases and lifted our baggage to the conveyer belt. Our baggage was soon inspected, leaving only my Ipod and cell phone within my pockets.

The two of us waited patiently as our flight arrived. I was eager to take one last look at Paris before I left to an alien island to accompany Blaine with his illogical vacation. I had taken a liking towards Paris during my stay, and I wasn't quite ready to leave the opulent metropolis just yet.

Sighing heavily as I boarded the airplane, I strolled over to my assigned seat, hoping that Blaine and I would be seated together. Luckily, the two of us were brought together in one section, with my seat being the window seat, and Blaine's being the middle. A French woman sat beside him on his left, forcing the actor between me and herself.

The intercom spoke in French about safety and smoking and what not… Once the woman on the intercom concluded her instructions, our plane began moving, rotating around in circles until we finally became airborne.

I lifted the screen off my window, letting light onto my complexion and allowing my eyes to peek out onto the breathtaking view. I wanted to stay in this awe-inspiring city. I had no intention to go to Bora Bora—it was absolutely forced on me!

"Just to let you know, I left my cell phone in the hotel." The actor spoke, interrupting my activity of gazing down at the beautiful city and randomly reminding me of the small yet crucial detail.

My jaw dropped in shock. "You what?" I asked, frustrated. "How is anyone going to contact us?" I added.

"Exactly."

He responded, paying no attention to my question once again. "It wouldn't be proper for the staff to contact us during our little vacation, now would it?"

I eyed him, wishing my sharp vision would burn deep holes into his skull. Mr. Montgomery and the others would be sickly worried, not to mention confused, considering we left not a single clue behind.

I had no intention to confront him about it, but my cell phone was placed safely right inside the back pocket of my jeans. In case an emergency occurred, I had one last lifeline to hold on to.

There would be quite a long time to waste before finally arriving at our destination. I plugged my earphones into the Ipod I carried, letting the peaceful and tempting melody soar into my ears.

The lulling melody had cast a spell upon me, almost bringing my eyelids downwards over my fatigued eyes. I was startled awake however, when I sensed something leaning lightly on my left shoulder, causing me to abandon sleep altogether.

Looking to my left, I discovered that the actor had fallen asleep, his head now rested peacefully upon my shoulders. My body froze, completely petrified knowing how close he was to me.

There was a strong temptation to push him away. After all, it was leaving me completely breathless. However, the warmth that evaporated from him and the serene expression he held upon his visage persuaded me to keep him there, right where he belonged.

I exhaled, reminding my heartbeat to slow down as the actor continued sleeping upon my left shoulder. Could he possibly hear the loud rhythm of my heartbeat? Could he possibly wake up from the loud disturbance inside me?

I considered the possibility futile. However, I was still incredibly nervous as his head leaned closer to me, gravity driving his body further in my direction. Thank God that he wasn't leaning the other direction towards the French woman. Now that would be a bit complicated!

I felt lucky, having my long-admired idol so utterly close to me. I felt a strong urge to lean my head towards his, letting in more contact between our skin. I did as my body commanded, hoping that such an action would bring about no harm.

Feeling completely restless pressed so closely to him; I ignored my strong urge to sleep, and instead opened by eyes to catch a better glimpse of the sharp-looking actor. His rosy lips melted into his lightly tanned skin, contrasting his dark eyebrows which sat below his disordered fringe. My hands, along with my lips, were dying for a touch—completely desperate for his warmth.

I learned to ignore my selfish desires, pushing them aside and making room for sleep. Listening to the repetitive melody while my head pressed lightly against his, I let my body drift off, letting it take me wherever it desired.

The actor was horribly tired from the continuous filming and the non-stop activity. I was glad that I was able to provide him with a momentary refuge—right there on my left shoulder.

5:13 AM Bora Bora

By the time the two of us had awoken, we were looking down curiously among the tropical island of Bora Bora. The sky was tainted with a vibrant sunset, a sign to us that we had travelled far across the globe into another time zone. In complete shock, I glanced down upon the spectacular island, its beaches and palm trees making me feel as if I had traveled into another universe.

Blaine was begging for a peek out the window as well, leaning into my lap to receive a better view of the island. I hastily pushed him aside, telling him that there was plenty of time for his eyes to envelope the island once we got off the plane.

There was much commotion between us after we arrived at the island's international airport. We were having a heated argument on where to stay and what to eat. The actor desired to stay at a hotel close to the beach while I wanted to reside in one which was fairly close to the airport. He wanted to eat tropical seafood while I begged for the taste of island barbeque. A part of me told myself that the same arguments would continue to reappear during my stay. I rolled my eyes, wondering why fate had put me up with such a handsome face but such an outlandish personality.

The sun had set peacefully into the horizon by the time we claimed our luggage and departed the airport. Luckily, the two of us were able to find a hotel close to the airport and close to a beautiful white-sanded beach. I exhaled, knowing that our first argument had finally been resolved. However, I could feel the next argument approaching us in a hurry considering the loud growl of my stomach and its continuous pleads for food.

The two of us eagerly walked inside the extravagant hotel. The tropical setting was dissimilar to Paris, but it was also finely crafted like the pervious hotel we stayed in. There was a fountain amidst the lobby, and also countless amounts of aquariums which intended to bring the tourists into a tropical mood.

"Great place we decided to travel to, huh?" I asked him, looking at the heterogeneous fish species which inhabited the aquarium. "We should be lucky that the first plane ride out of Paris took us here."

"The second plane ride out of Paris." He corrected. "I was ready to settle for anywhere but America, but I wasn't expecting that we'd land in such a hot vacation spot."

I nodded. "I guess I'm your lucky charm." I put my words together nonsensically, hoping it wouldn't scare him off.

I wish I was his real lucky charm.

We were eager to book a room for ourselves as soon as we arrived in the hotel. However, to our surprise, the man at the front desk was nowhere to be seen. Impatient, the two of us waited, utterly fatigued from the long plane ride. Our bodies were fervent to lie on a soft spongy mattress once again as our minds scram for rest.

I was in no mood for what was about to hit me next.

"Oh my lord, it's Blaine Anderson!"

A voice speaking in English had started the two of us, making me turn around immediately. There was no possible way that there were fans from America who followed us all the way here! However, my mind panicked as I heard the voice, wondering where it came from and what it intended to do.

Blaine and I stared in shock as we saw an American—wearing huge glasses, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, a pen and a memo pad in his hands—eagerly approaching us.

Hotel de Crillon 9:30 AM Paris, France

The young yet sophisticated manager paced about the hotel lobby, a mobile phone in his ands and an acidic expression painted on his face. The actor was to meet him in the lobby thirty minutes ago, and here he was, not showing up at all.

They were terribly late for their filming today. The director insisted that the actor should arrive an hour early so that the action-filled scene by the Eiffel Tower could be carefully coordinated. However, Wesley knew that the actor still held a grudge against him from the previous night, and didn't want to urge him into waking up so impatiently.

The thirty minute wait though, was tearing Wesley apart into shreds.

He absolutely detested being behind schedule, and the actor had delayed them far beyond Wesley's worst fears. With a phone held to his ears, he dialed Blaine's number, hoping it would provide him with some sort of alarm.

However, as Wesley reached the other side of the line, there was no answer, sending him into complete panic.

That guy has some nerve for not picking up! Wesley denied the thought of Blaine refusing pick up because of their argument last night, and dialed his number again, hoping to hear his voice this time.

Still, no answer. The manager threw his expensive mobile phone onto the floor, outraged at the actor's rebellious actions. He loudly stomped onto an elevator, pressing the up button as he waited impatiently. If he wasn't waking up, why not go to his room personally and pull him out of bed?

The fuming manager reached the twenty-second floor within no time at all. He immediately leaped to the actor's suite, hoping that his procedures would save a bit of time. However, as he opened the door, the manager halted, completely outraged at what he saw before him.

There, in the once occupied hotel room, was nothing more than the furniture and necessities left in the room when the actor first checked into the suite.

Wesley stared in complete awe, the empty room haunting his every nerve.

"Wha—" He was speechless. "How can this be?"

The tall male recognized a familiar looking cell phone placed neatly upon a small coffee table. Picking up the phone and observing it hastily, Wesley realized that the phone belonged to no other than Blaine.

He tried to control his anger as he slammed the phone back onto the wooden table. To his surprise, a note, written in Blaine's familiar illegible handwriting was placed upon the table, receiving Wesley's full attention.

He picked up the small note and read it with disbelief.

Wesley, if you're reading this now, then that means I am no longer in Paris. I decided to go on a vacation to get away from my corrupted life. I need to escape, for once. I need to rest, and Paris is not an option for me right now.

I left my cell phone here because I don't need any interruptions during my time away. Don't try to find me—I need time for myself. Capeesh? :)

- Blaine

P.S. I brought Kurt along with me if you're wondering where he went.

The manager was completely enraged as he finished reading the concise note. He tried reading the note over a couple of times, wondering if his eyes had deceived him. But no, every word on the note was right where it should be, scaring the life out of him.

He was astonished that the reporter had had any interest at all to go along with the actor. From escaping the staff dinner with Blaine to now leaving Paris with him made Kurt appear as if he was inseparable to the actor. The thought of it made Wesley completely furious.

He stared at the empty room once again, this time, in despair.

Just where on earth did the two of them go?

Sorry for the short chapter but I hoped you guys like it. Also, tell me what's your guess on who's the guy Blaine and Kurt meet in Bora Bora? Hint, Klainers hate him. :)

~ Mar