“I can’t believe that Judas prick! All this time, leading me to believe he would never do that to me.” Blaine swigged from his vodka as we sat next to one another by the pool and a sun that was beginning its descent from the sky.
I’d had two glasses of Pinot Gris and was feeling no pain except for heartburn as it bubbled up and filled my chest with that burning feeling like my insides had caught fire. What would become of Blaine and I now that he knew the truth about Jocelyn? Would he forgive Xavier? They were brothers after all.
“Well, perhaps he had his reasons.” I turned toward him in my lounge chair. “Surely you must have known Brigitte wasn’t his one and only?”
“Of course I knew but I just assumed he was being promiscuous like I was—using different women for his own needs and coming home to her because she wouldn’t leave.”
I bit my lip before I sipped from my wine; meanwhile, he continued, “Well, now it isn’t her choice and it doesn’t matter whether she wants to stick around or not. With Xavier gone, she’ll need to find her own place. She’s got money and soon, she’ll be a big star. It’s not like she’s destitute. It’s time for her to make her own way.”
“What if she won’t go? She was pretty distraught earlier.”
Blaine shook his shoulders apathetically. “I really don’t care. Now that Zavi isn’t here, there’s no further need for her to stick around. And furthermore, I’m sick and tired of looking at her miserable face. No way is she going to ruin my Labor Day weekend.”
I watched my lover as he downed his tumbler of vodka and studied the soft ripples in the pool. I’d grounded myself to the sidelines long enough. It was time to step up, grow a backbone and actually do something.
Chapter 11
Zed
Zed really wasn’t one to encourage dramatics but in Brigitte’s case, he could understand and for one night, she wasn’t completely annoying as she broke down on his shoulder and cried her eyes out.
“What the fuck is wrong with you people? How can you be so cruel? I gave your brother everything and this is my thanks? I’m thrown out with not even a kind word. Just left on my own with no one here to help me?”
He squeezed her shoulder as she dabbled balled up tissue at her raccoon eyes. “Honey, I don’t know everything about Xavier and Blaine. They are my brothers but that doesn’t mean shit. We don’t get together for deep, insightful talks about what’s goin’ on in our lives. From Blaine’s reaction alone, it’s obvious he was just as much in the dark about them as you and me. What did you expect would happen? He’d ride off into the sunset with you?”
“Well . . . yeah, why not? I mean, what’s wrong with me?” Brigitte wailed.
“You’re just some middle-class immigrant from a country our grandmothers came from—do you think that makes you special? Xavier landed the golden goose. His future wife comes from both British and Hollywood royalty.
“Both her parents have been bestowed with the highest honors a commoner can have in the UK. Not to mention they’re loaded and she’s a good fit for him. Our parents have been orchestrating the match for years,” Zed said as began to roll a joint.
“Why?” Brigitte grabbed it from him when it was done, stuck it in her mouth and lit it with a Zippo.
“He’s . . . calm around her. She seems to bring out the best in him and that’s what’s most important about Xavier. He needs a stabilizing presence or he doesn’t do well. Unfortunately, you’re an enabler and you let him get away with shit I’m guessing Jocelyn doesn’t. If she could handle Blaine for almost four years, Zavi will be a walk in the park.”
“She’s enabler too if she knew about me and let him get away with it—”
“She didn’t know about you! Don’t you get it? Vie kept throwing it in her face and she was caught unawares in a very awful situation but she is also in a precarious condition.” Zed stood and began to pace the sitting room.
His head hurt, he was tired and had done way too much pot that day. All he wanted to do was chill out and watch some television, not cater to this needy, whiny bitch that couldn’t accept his twin had left her. How could she be so fucking dense to think Xavier didn’t have a way out? He rarely put up with anything he didn’t want to face and was actually stronger in that area than him.
He and Blaine had always been ultra competitive, therefore it didn’t surprise him he’d ended up with the love of their older brother’s life. He’d probably planned the whole situation from the beginning and what a pickle he’d left for Zed. He didn’t want to console his twin’s ex-girlfriend—hell, he didn’t even like her and although he’d initially felt sorry for her, his patience was beginning to wear thin.
Vie chose that moment to stroll into the room. She cleared her throat before she said, “Zed, can I speak to you?”
He rolled his eyes before he stood and followed her out to the veranda.
Several maids had taken the food away after it’d gone untouched for more than fifteen minutes. Everyone left in the wake of the carnage dumped on them by Jocelyn and Xavier preferred drink—or something stronger—rather than food at the moment.
“What is it? Is Blaine all right?” he questioned in a hushed voice.
She looked away from him before she shook her head but her eyes remained dry. “This is something I fear he is going to have to get through on his own and I can’t help him. At the same time, you must know what happens when he gets this way—I have never seen him in . . . a depressive state. If this is the beginning of one then you have to find a way to get rid of Brigitte. He doesn’t want her to be here now that Xavier is gone. And he also wants her to move out the Hollywood Hills estate too.”
Zed looked back at Brigitte. She leaned over the table, snorting a couple lines of cocaine as she started to take on that look of becoming completely numb. He turned back to Vie who stared at her with distant, cool eyes. “What does he expect us to do with her? Just toss her out because she’s become an inconvenience?”
“I honestly don’t know.” Vie looked around while wringing her hands in a way that meant she didn’t want to deal with the situation any more than he did.
However he knew from the determined look on her face she felt similar to Blaine. She wanted Brigitte gone too. Like Jocelyn, she was nothing more than a painful reminder of deception, of life that they once lived before she entered the picture.
Everyone had a past—even Vie—but she didn’t want to be reminded of Blaine’s, especially the day before a major holiday. This was supposed to be a getaway from life’s intolerable issues and problems. A time a fun and relaxation. Unfortunately, it had turned into a clusterfuck of epic proportions and no one wanted to deal with it, not even him.
“Listen, I don’t know about you but I don’t want to deal with this right now. I’m going upstairs to watch some television.”
“Oh?” Zed’s eyes rested on her again. She still wore a cover up over her bathing suit and no longer had any desire to swim, or so it seemed. “What are you going to watch?”
“American Horror Story. I finally started Asylum. You’re welcome to come along if you want.”
“What about Blaine?”
“What about him? He’s a grown man, Zed. He absolutely hates for me to invade his privacy unless he’s asked me to do so. He’ll come up when he’s ready and I’ve accepted that. Well . . . I’m not sure if accepted is the right word but it sounds better than to merely tolerate a situation, don’t you think?”
Their coupling finally became clear to him and he realized he was an idiot for not figuring it out sooner.
Vie’s gradual withdrawal from his life and the amount of time she spent with Blaine. The way his brother had selfishly taken her away.
They’d obviously consummated their relationship.
Blaine had won and he’d lost but at what cost? He knew how much it hurt emotionally but would he truly be able to recover and be satisfied with only being her friend? It was a tough decision but one he wouldn’t have to make at that moment.<
br />
“You know, I think I’ll join you for some episodes of Asylum after all. With the way things are going in this place, it kind of feels like we’re in a real life asylum at the moment.”
Vie smiled. “I don’t know about that—unless you’re aware of funny farms that have the best alcohol and dope on hand then this particular set of unfortunate circumstances doesn’t feel anything like a nut house. It’s just another weekend with the rich and depraved as far as I’m concerned.”
Zed laughed out loud as they walked back into the house together. “Yeah, that too.”
Zed and Vie sat on the chaise lounge and devoured episode after episode of Asylum. They had started their third episode in a row and enjoyed the silence between the two of them.
“So, when did you two start having sex with each other?”
Vie looked at him though he continued to look at the television, embarrassed he’d brought up the subject at all. “It happened the night of the dinner at The Polo Lounge. The reason why we were there . . . it wasn’t a date but Blaine failed to mention that to you. I met David and Jamie, two studio execs who are over the WAGs project and the reason why Blaine has a financial distributor for the film. He was upset about how they plan to cut the most explicit scenes so they can get the movie released with an R-rating. He felt his artistic integrity was being compromised and it upset him deeply.”
Zed stared at her and tried to remain neutral and calm about the situation. “What happened? Did he say he needed to get rid of you so he could go blow off some steam or something cheesy and similar in meaning?”
“What are you trying to say? He faked his emotions so he could fuck me?” She glared at him with cold gray eyes. “I’m not stupid, or do you not remember I have a Master’s Degree—”
“—in abnormal psychology, yes, I know or so you have stated ad nauseam.” He rolled his eyes to emphasize the point he wanted to make. “The fact remains if you’re so brilliant then why didn’t you have me figured out from the word ‘Go?’ Why did Blaine have to tell you I was a little cuckoo?”
“I don’t like to psychoanalyze my friends, no matter how fucked up they may be,” Vie replied in a harsh whisper. “Besides, Blaine only told me about the specifics of your illness. I don’t need to be Dr. Phil to know you’re totally fucked in the head but what you do on your own time is none of my business. There are no cameras rolling here so you can stop acting.”
“Having a sex addiction doesn’t mean I’m fucked in the head . . . I merely enjoy sex to the point where I am obsessed and addicted to it. Did I want to have sex with you? Yes. Did Blaine and I have a little pissing contest about who would bust that cherry of yours first? Yes! Looks like he won though. I always liked you though—as a person. I was hoping we might remain friends,” Zed explained quietly, the characters on television almost as loud as their conversation.
She looked away, her gray eyes teary before she wiped them away harshly and pulled herself together. “Of course we can be friends, sweetie. Perhaps today would serve as a valuable lesson for both you and Blaine.”
“How’s that?”
“Well . . . you shouldn’t play your stupid, adolescent games. You see, women are so much more cunning than men. We will always out think you, and statistically speaking, we outlast you, too. Blaine has played games with women his whole life and look what it cost him? The ultimate love of his life.”
Zed laughed out loud. “You can’t possibly be serious. Either you’re extremely naïve or supremely blind if you can’t see what my brother feels for you outweigh any emotions he ever had for Jocelyn. That’s why he’s drinking downstairs. Not because of her but because of what he feels for you and he hates himself for loving any piece of you but he does.”
“That’s sweet.” Vie glanced at him and smiled as she stood. “I know men think all women care about is fashion, beauty, glamour and finding a man that loves them but I’m not that kind of woman. Do you honestly believe filling my head with bullshit about your brother feeling even an ounce of sympathy for my wellbeing will make me gloat all the sudden with smug triumph?
“You wanna know what drives my relationship with your brother? Fear . . . of disappointment.” She closed her eyes and breathed in and out before she began to pace. “I’m not frightened of him—believe me when I tell you there’s no Stockholm syndrome at play here. He simply hasn’t been that cruel yet for me to love him out of obligation or pity. But he knows what a perfectionist I am and he uses it against me. I want to be exactly what he wants and needs but not so much for him but for me. It gives me great pleasure to be the best at everything I do and that doesn’t just mean in the bedroom.”
Zed stood and strode toward Vie, blocking her from pacing. His hands gripped her shoulders but not hard enough to hurt her. “Don’t you think I know that? If your only desire was merely pleasing Blaine, he would have discarded you by now. You’re right—he knows all your weaknesses and he uses them against you but don’t you understand he wouldn’t give a damn to know even that much about you if he didn’t care at all?”
Vie didn’t say anything.
“Listen, my brother is the fuck ’em and leave ’em type. He simply doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. It’s a compulsion, you see. His own sick personality at work there. He loves you because you make him feel normal. You don’t just tolerate his eccentricities; you deal with them and move on. You make him feel like everyone else out there. Have you written down your rules to follow while being in his presence and committed them to memory yet?”
Her gray eyes made contact with his violet-blue orbs. “How do you know about that?”
“We all do it and have them. Mother, Father, Xavier, me—that’s what we do for Blaine because he is so fucking special he needs a fucking rule book just for him. We treat him with kid gloves because Blaine is different—he’s brilliant. Mom and Dad couldn’t dare have their exceptionally immaculate son—the only one without a flaw so terrible it had to be hidden—exposed to anything but sunshine and light. Is it no wonder he spent so much time being fucking depressed when we were growing up?
“With two head shrinks for parents, everyone knows their kids are gonna be fucked up before they’re born. We can’t help it when we are fucking poked and prodded—mentally and psychologically—along with physically from the day we are born. You think you had it rough being Victoire Janssen? Try being a fucking Pascal-Baasch for a day.”
“You’ve gotta go. If he catches you here—”
“I know,” Zed interrupted. “Besides, I have a little problem downstairs that needs to be taken care of and her name is Brigitte.”
“I’ll buy you some time. We’ll go out to eat, all right? He needs some food to soak up all that booze.”
“Good luck.” He walked to the double doors, turned toward her again before he opened the main door and let himself out, closing the door softly. Several strides down the stairs and he almost ran into his brother mid-way.
“What are you doing coming from my suite? Where you alone with Vie?”
Zed placed a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “Chill, bro, we were just watching a couple episodes of American Horror Story. I know this one is special and I’m not Xavier. I don’t covet that which does not belong to me.”
Blaine smiled though it lacked mirth. “Don’t worry. Zavi will get what’s coming to him and he will suffer more than any man should but . . . it’s best saved for another time and another place. It doesn’t happen on a holiday weekend for God’s sake.”
“Vie told me you want Brigitte gone? I’ll work on that while you two go out to dinner.”
“Thanks,” his brother said to him. “I’d handle the issue myself but I’m just as torn up as she is and I actually had emotional investment in the issue. Brigitte? She was looking for someone to hold on to until they gave in and delivered an engagement ring. That was never going to happen and she was not only deluding herself but she also made it harder to . . . move on. She should have known better—there’s
no way Mom and Dad would have accepted an actress in the family.”
“Especially one without a master’s degree. Someone should have told her that growing up in an academia family is worse than growing up the children of celebrities. We have an impossible bar that is set for us and most of the time, we’ll never be as clever as our parents are . . . ever.”
“Agreed.” Blaine removed his brother’s hand from his shoulder. “Talk to you later and thank you . . . for having my back. I don’t know what I would have done without your love and support, little bro.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Just . . . promise me the next girl I think is amazing and fantastic, you won’t swoop in and take her from me.”
Blaine winked. “It’s a deal—”
“Nope! It’s an agreement.” Zed smiled before he continued his way down the staircase.
Finally, he dropped his smile and walked towards the informal living room. He certainly wasn’t looking forward to that night. Sometimes the worst issues in life were like a Band-Aid. The best way to deal with them was to dig right in and rip the bandage off the wound without finesse or caress.
Both could get a person killed if the circumstances were permitting and Zed wanted to die on another day. Certainly not in that house with Brigitte as his only company. In hindsight, he realized Blaine was right.
She would have to go.
Now.
Chapter 12
Vie
Blaine and I ended up having dinner at Redbar Brasserie. The place was filled with both the wealthy and middle-class perpetrating like they had more money than they actually possessed. Surely their American Express bills would be a tad lighter than if they’d blown a weekend in Vegas but like Sin City, Southampton had a certain “je ne sais quoi,” which encouraged visitors to spend their money like there is no tomorrow. If not at the exclusive boutiques than the mediocre restaurants masquerading as establishments as legendary as the ones in major gastronomic cities.
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