[London/Los Angeles, late August 1997. Two months or so after this. Written on AIM, pardon the all-at-once format.]Johnny's got the closet in the master bedroom neatly divided in half, two-thirds, actually, because Jack owns more things that need to hang or lay flat, and Johnny's own stuff is mostly crammed into the armoire. A lot of it was too ( Read more... )

[rewinding slightly: monday, early in the morning after this]Johnny wakes with a craving for tea and the smell of rain in his nose; he disentangles himself from Orlando and pulls on a pair of jeans to pad out into the kitchen ( Read more... )

[thursday, very shortly after this]He'd had the room set up in advance, just in case, something bright and dancing in his gut this morning had told him that he'd find someone today, and voila, here we are, man, here it is ( Read more... )

[Thursday, a few hours after this.]Here six years and the first thing Orlando ever does when he steps outside is look up at the sky. But it’s always blue here, or a sickly greyish shade of it, and Orlando always sees spots for a good five minutes once he’s blinked away from it ( Read more... )

Bill is on his knees next to the ficus (pushing little mottled brown and white sticks of plant food into the damp soil, grumbling under his breath at the damage inflicted when he notices a spot where all the leaves have been stripped away from whippy, twig-like stems, and damn that stupid blonde twat, now he has a piebald ficus, and right when the ( Read more... )

morning of the open call

Scarlett can't, for the life of her, figure out why she had set her alarm clock for eight. Nor does she particularly care to wake enough to remember what is so bloody important that she has to get up only three and a half short hours after stumbling to bed.

( *** )

[london, june 1997. tuesday.]It's that sort of June afternoon that's damp but not chilly, misty but not rainy, with a determinedly cheerful sun poking out from behind the clouds now and again, trying to make the best of a bad situation. The pink roses twining through the iron fences on the grounds of Jack's school are in full heady bloom, a sign ( Read more... )

Things settle back down into a more normal day after the nitwits are all ushered out. Bill wanders back to the kitchenette to grab a cup of coffee -- every time he uses the fucking coffee maker, he's tempted to tear it apart and clean the shite out of it, but he can't be arsed -- and is on his way back to his desk when he passes the door to the ( Read more... )

bio for Scarlett Johansson

cairo, egypt. christmas eve, 1995Sometimes Johnny will say to Jack, "Tell me where you want to go," and Jack will say, "Anywhere," so Johnny has to poke and press and draw it out of him, find out what places Jack's always wanted to see. Florence, last Christmas, then Hong Kong for two weeks this past spring. He loves to take Jack places he's been ( Read more... )