“What’s happened to your arm?” she asked, alarmed as she saw the inside of elbow was bruised and discoloured, a small puncture wound at the centre of it. A million things went through her mind. She had seen drug use in the performance world, of course. Actors took them for a trip, dancers took them to stay thin, singers took them to give them endless energy. But Finn, despite his workaholic ways, had never turned to drugs. He looked down on those who did, the scum of society as he put it, preferring his mind alternating substances in the form of top shelf liquor.
As quickly as she noticed it, he drew back, which made her realise how warm his body was against hers.
“Are you alright?” she asked, concerned. For a moment, his eyes searched hers, looking for something she couldn’t figure out; searching for answers she didn’t have. And then, very carefully, he spoke.
“Gwen, I swear I will make sure your name is never in lights again if you breathe a word about what I’m about to say to anyone. Do you understand me?”
“Wha?” Her mouth fell open as she watched him stand, a bit shakily. “What are you talking about?”
He took a sip of his champagne, or what remained of it, pacing a bit as he clearly considered the possibilities of what he wanted to say. Finally, he sighed, turning back to her.
“It’s lung cancer. I found out about two months ago.”
Gwen let out a string of swear words, frozen on her spot on the couch. When she was finished with the curses, she formed questions.
“Why the hell are you still working? Is it treatable? Why would I tell anyone?”
“Baby, baby,” he smiled slightly, sitting down. “I’m working because I don’t know how to do anything else. I’ve told no one because… I’ve trusted no one. This life style doesn’t exactly lead to having close friends, and I don’t want them treating me like an invalid. Yes, I’ve started to go through radiation, but so far all it’s done is make me horribly ill.”
Her heart broke at that, reaching to take his hands and then wrapping her arms around him, kissing him delicately.
“You shouldn’t have to go through this alone,” she whispered, placing kisses up and down his neck. He made a noise, low in his throat, that she remembered was pleasure. And so she kissed him again, and again, her hands gently undoing the top button and loosening his tie. He responded by dropping his hands to her waist, exploring the body he once knew so well.
“And who exactly is going to go through it with me?” he asked, his lips brushing her ear. “I make enemies everywhere I go, love. This is what I do, buying little towns and breaking dreams; putting mom n’pop stores out of business so I can have my hotels. I am not a good person, Gwen.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said, pulling back to look at him. “And I really don’t care what the truth is. I know what you do, Finn, it doesn’t make a difference whether you’re doing it in David’s town or someone else’s. I know you, remember? I knew you then and I know you now.”
He muted a cough by closing his mouth, and then opened it to speak again.
“I don’t think you know the man I’ve become. On Broadway, babe, that was all smoke and mirrors. Nothing was wrong, we were still too new to each other. Everything was decadent and wonderful, and there was never any… mess. We lived a perfect life in a hotel that was cleaned twice daily, and we never saw the side of each other that was unpleasant.”
“I know you,” she repeated, placing a hand on his heart, and going in to kiss him again. This time, she pressed him back a bit, until he reclined on the sofa. “I’ve always known you.” She was straddling him now, her heart bursting with love she didn’t know she felt as she undid the buttons on his shirt, one by one until she could pull it apart. He was thinner than he had been, but his stomach was still washboard flat, his abs still evident, even if his waist was small.
She bent down, thanking her flexible body, and kissed his ear, sticking her tongue in it which made him groan. Gwen squirmed against his groin, already feeling his need rising as he placed his hands on her back, pulling her closer. With one hand, she reached between her legs and rose her hips enough to pull her lace underwear down, glad she chose tonight to wear a skirt. He responded by undoing his belt, hands frantic as their lips locked and tongues darted in and out of each other’s mouths.
When he entered her, she was already slick with need, and both of them let out a moan. Gwen threw her head back and closed her eyes, getting lost in the pleasure as she rocked against him. Finn pulled at her hips, forcing himself deeper as he thrust, his own mind clouded with bliss. She pulled the dress over her head, revealing her nakedness to him, the same as he had known before. Her smooth skin and flat stomach showed years of care and performance.
Finn had always thought she could be a model with her exotic looks, her dark hair long and loose and her almond shaped eyes always sparkling. But instead she had chosen performance, characters that were deep and well built, characters that begged artistic antiquity and thought. Gwen could have had an easy life as a beautiful woman, but she chose to work for her fame, auditioning against thousands of girls for months before her chance came.
She cried out as she felt her orgasm hit; wave upon wave of pleasure crashing against her. He moaned, thrusting his hips one last time before spilling his seed into her, his body shuddering at the effort of it all. Her hands were pressing onto his chest with her full weight, her nails curled and leaving marks, but neither of them cared. Finally, she fell beside him on the couch, both of them panting as they caught their breaths.
“We’re screwed,” she said, burying her face in his neck, a position that was once her favourite. “How can I keep looking at you, how can I help them with the protests and the fundraisers and know you like this?”
“I thought you didn’t like thinking about the future,” he said, stroking her arm lightly. She sighed, snuggling closer.
“Finn?”
“Mmm?” he replied, sleep already taking him.
“You’ll… you’re going to be alright, right? You’re not… going to die or something?”
He hugged her tightly for a moment, his chest rising and falling several times before he answered.
“How can I die when I just found you again? That’d be pretty foolish of me, wouldn’t it?”
“Yep. We’re screwed,” she muttered, more to herself as the darkness of sleep began to take her.
***
The next morning, she awoke in his hotel bed, to her beeping phone. Blearily, she rolled over, wondering when they had gotten up and moved to the bed. Rubbing her eyes, she opened the text message that had taken her from slumber.
I assume you got some last night David had written. We’ve got new strategy to drive asshole out of town. Check this. He had sent a link, and she clicked on it, glancing to Finn as she waited for it to load. He was still asleep, on his stomach, his head turned towards her. In sleep, he was ten years younger, the constant weight of the world gone from his body as his arm wrapped around a pillow, likely mistaking it for hugging her. He coughed twice and she grimaced, reaching out to stroke his arm and then glancing back to her phone. It was hotelnews.com, a trade site that he had shown her once or twice when they were together.
Hotel Tycoon Finn Derron diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. 6 months to live, at best. Derron Board of Directors questions their Chief’s ability to do job. read the headline. She nearly dropped her phone, letting out a noise of surprise. Beside her, he stirred, sitting up blearily.
“Good morning love.”
“Erm, maybe not. David just sent me this,” she handed over her phone, giving him a moment to stretch and yawn. He took it, attempting to focus on the small print in the early morning. But as soon as he did, his eyes wide-eyed and his face darkened.