CHAPTER NINE
A/N- check out the extent of Marcus Brutus' confusion and stupidity. He is one crazy person…and REVIEW…and forgive me for my pathetic poetry…when will I improve?
Cassius' POV
I can't look at you any more. Two millennia have passed and we see each other again. We might just be discovering lost friendship. I know you love Portia. I love her too, and I...
Brutus' POV
He looks away and turns his gaze to Portia, who is trying to figure out what she's supposed to tell her audience. There is guilt in his eyes, but that guilt disappears after a fraction of a second. He smiles at her and gives her a thumbs up. She smiles back. Caius is trying hard not to look at me and it seems that all his energy is based on that one single thing:-avoiding eye-contact with me.
He feels guilty about something. I can sense it. Why, and how, I don't know. I can tell what emotions are buried deep beneath him. I know when he's sad, I know when he's upset, when he's happy, when he's scared. How could I have not noticed it before? We are somehow connected…
Right now he's thinking about Portia, about what is between them…
Why did I not think of it before? He does spend a lot of his time with Portia, especially when I am not around. But Portia loves me, she won't, she can't….do this to me.
Then why is he feeling guilty, why is he looking at my wife like that and why is he shunning my gaze like that?
'Um,' says my wife, tugging her short hair behind her ear uncertainly, 'What I am saying is that the person with the pen and paper in his hand can do anything. He has us under his control. He writes it, it happens.'
'Like God?' asks Octavius.
'Well, uh…,' Portia wonders what to say.
'No,' answers Cassius, 'like dictatorship. And the fault, my friends, are not in the stars but in ourselves, we are the underlings.'
I've think heard that dialogue before.
'Of course,' Cassius continues, 'some of us like being slaves,' and he stares very pointedly at Antony.
'I am not anyone's slave,' Antony speaks up.
'When did I say that you were?' Cassius asks.
'It's what you intended to say,' Antony replies
'You think so?' says Cassius, 'it is because that is what you are...Leave it. Let my friend speak.'
'Fine,' says Antony gruffly and turns his head to where my wife stands.
'Um, thank you,' says Portia, 'As I was saying, William Shakespeare controls us all. And there is only one man who knows how to stop him. I don't know his exact name. He is a little old, almost bald. Yeah, that's about it, old and bald. He was going to tell me this "truth" but was taken away by guards trying to lure him with lollipops. If we do not rescue him, we shall never know anything, and shall remain in this cycle forever, being played like puppets.'
'And how do we know that this is the truth?' Caesar asks gratuitously.
'It is, and if you don't believe me, it's your own loss,' says Portia, 'I have called you all here to ask you whether you recognize this photograph,' she takes out the old man's photograph. He looks familiar, very familiar and yet I can't seem to place him anywhere.
The crowd seems to share my thoughts. 'I know,' says Cicero, the old senator, 'but I don't know.'
'Sonow we know that it is someone we all do know, and are aware of,' says Portia, 'but from what I see, that we don't know who he is, he wasn't too important in our lives (A/N-how wrong you are, dear Robby) . He may have been a common Roman citizen, or a rock-star all us Romans knew. He wouldn't tell me his name, perhaps because we'd go crazy on finding out what was, possibly because of his celebrity status.'
'Maybe he's Elvis,' suggests Lepidus.
'Wow,' says a common Roman woman, 'I do like Elvis…'
'Who,' Cassius points out, 'Is neither old nor bald.'
'So now we never get to meet Elvis?' the woman asks, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice.
'No,' says Cassius firmly, 'who cares about Elvis anyway-,'
'I CARE!' yells the woman.
'-Anyway,' says Cassius, ignoring her completely, 'at a time like this.'
'This man is in trouble!' says Portia, 'surely one of you must know his name.'
'We don't!' yells the mob.
'But you all think he's familiar?' Portia asks as the crowd of Romans scream, 'Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!'
'Then,' says Cassius, who is now walking up to the front of the room, towards Portia and me. He reaches, takes the mike from my wife's hand and says, 'We need to find him and the truth. People, you are being lied to. This is not heaven.'
'And,' Portia says, 'only a miracle can save us-,'
'Or an open revolt,' says Cassius.
'Or magic!' Portia exclaims.
'Or our unity,' says Cassius, 'and out of these four, we have our unity.'
Caesar stands up, 'And what makes you say that?'
Cassius' POV
Damn that Caesar! What is his problem?
'We have our unity,' I repeat, 'I shall make peace with you because that is the need of the moment.' What am I doing? Am I giving up to Caesar?
'Fine,' he says, 'but only for this "problem" which may not even be real.'
Antony's POV
MAY NOT BE REAL? I AM DOING THE DISHES FOR THIS! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Portia's POV
How can I explain to these people what I don't know myself?
Caesar's POV
I want chocolate.
The woman
I so love you Elvis. Why won't you agree to marry me, my love?
My soul?
My life?
Oh, Elvis, my loooooooooooooooooooooooove!
Brutus
He talks without giving me a single glance. I cannot be sure of what he is doing…yet.
He does speak so confidently though, with a few strands of hair falling on his face. His hair isn't normal, or what he would call "normal", his usual spikes have been replaced with thin straight hair, which highlights the slightly oval shape of his face. He blinks lightly because of that one single wisp of dark hair falling on his eye. He pushes that wisp back unconsciously with a single long thin index finger after his blinking turns fast and furious. He does not look like "Cassius from history", who wasn't exactly pretty, and he doesn't act like him either. He's a unique person, not that "cruel" person I read about in a book Portia had borrowed from a library, which contained our historical versions. He is also rather good-looking. Not handsome, good-looking. He's a bit skinny, very tall and with the narrowest waist I have seen in the past few years. (But then, I haven't seen many people in the past few years so that hardly counts). He is also much younger here than he was on earth- around Octavius' age. We all are of the same age here, and have been for a long time. Aging is probably a process that doesn't occur here, and Cassius is the best example of that. Agelessness suits him more than it suits anyone else. His young wrinkle free face is more than just normal "young", its flawless and has this dazzling glow around it, which looks ten times more stunning, with those brilliant blue eyes that enhance it, shining with all their might. His accent also has something very striking about it; you can't help but be drawn to everything he says.
No wonder Portia fell for him….
Wait, no…how can I say that? So maybe they do spend a lot of their time together, but it's because they are friends. I trust Portia more than I trust myself.
It's okay….
Cassius accidentally, while saying something quietly to Portia, as the crowd talk among themselves, looks at me.
Ignorance from the truth,
Your love that I am unconsciously aware of,
They are the root…
Of misery; they are what it is made of.
----
The hidden love that lies buried…
Deep Underneath, tries to hide,
The fact that I am married,
That it is my wife to whom I have lied.
----
That I love her too,
Though not as much as you,
That she loves me,
Though she and I are not "we"
That I cannot have him,
And as the lights seem to dim,
As the shadows overcome me,
As only beauty seems to fill thee…
Beauty too far from my reach,
Sucking on me like a leech,
Blood -drop by drop,
For ever -it will not stop…
----
The Unfinished love between us,
Makes tiny seconds seem hours,
Eternity itself fits into time less than a year,
And this more than anything else,
I fear…
He turns his head away so quickly that any normal person would swear that he hadn't looked at me at all, and looks at Portia, 'Por-?'
'Ask Mark,' says Portia.
'Um, yeah, er…'
'Mark, what should we do? I mean, this is a big problem, isn't it…?'
I nod. My throat suddenly feels very dry.
'I mean,' says Portia, 'we'll look together. All of us. Even Caius' enemy Caesar is with us. Let's look now.'
'Ay,' I say.
'So, how do we start?' Portia asks, 'I am such an idiot. I called on this meeting without even knowing what I'm going to tell all these people. What do I say to them,"there isn't any plan you may all go home now"?'
Cassius pats her arm reassuringly, 'You're not an idiot. You did the best you could; you're trying to save all of us.'
'You are my true and honourable wife,' I say.
'That's comforting,' said Portia, 'to know that I've got you two on my side. I'm really messed up.'
'That's okay,' says Cassius, 'we're all "messed up" sometimes.'
'What now?' Portia asks.
'I'm not to sure,' replies Cassius, his shiny shiny blue eyes narrowed in worry. He's keeping his distance from me, standing right next to my wife, who is sitting on a chair three metres away from me.
'We'll think of something, wont we?' Portia asks.
'Yeah,' says Cassius, 'yeah, we will.'
'Yea,' I say.
'Awwwww…Mark, you can be so cute sometimes,' says Portia.
'Um,' I say. I'm always either terribly "cute" or "old fashioned" to her, depending upon her mood.
'He is,' says Portia, 'Isn't he Caius?'
'Wha-me? How would I know?' Cassius stammers, 'Tha-that's out of th-the to-pic, isn't it? We have t-o sa-ave the world.'
'Quite right,' says Portia, 'I'll ask the people what they think we should do.'
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A/N-What did you think? Review. And thank you Islington bus no. 199, you inspire me to write…keep reviewing. I need encouragement.