birdcage | ongoing

forty-two| fix what's broken

July 1991
• • •

Harry reluctantly forced his eyes open, finding himself alone in his hotel room. The familiarity of the soft bed beneath him and the haphazardly thrown blanket confirmed his location. Confusion clouded his mind as he tried to piece together the events leading to this moment. If his memory served him right, he had fled the hotel room in a desperate attempt to escape from Edward. He vaguely recalled reaching the lobby before everything went dark.

Now, against all odds, he was back where he had started.

"Thank goodness you're awake." A figure resembling a blurry shadow rushed towards him. It took a few blinks for Harry to recognize Edward's face, marked by evident distress, looming over him. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?"

Summoning his remaining strength, Harry placed his hands on the mattress and attempted to sit up, immediately regretting it as his muscles protested. "How did I... I thought I left."

"You did leave," Edward affirmed, his anxious gaze scanning Harry's face for any signs of injury as he gently cradled his cheeks with his smooth hands. "But you blacked out in the lobby, and they called me. I had to deal with some very upset hotel staff because of you."

Harry pulled away from Edward's touch, hanging his head in embarrassment. "I don't know what came over me. I can't even remember what I said."

"All I care about is that you're safe, Harry," Edward reassured him.

It felt peculiar, almost surreal, that Edward had developed such a deep concern for a young man who had initially been little more than a pawn. The only reason he had tolerated Harry's presence was his connection to a powerful uncle. Without Philip's promises of wealth, success, and prestige, Harry would have meant nothing to him. That lingering doubt prevented Harry from fully trusting Edward. This seemed like yet another game, another test he needed to pass, or face even graver consequences.

"Do you still want to have dinner and visit the Eiffel Tower?" Edward inquired.

Harry's muscles ached at the mere thought of leaving the comfort of the bed. A persistent headache throbbed between his temples, compelling him to lie back with his head on the pillow. Surely, there would be another opportunity tomorrow. Resting today seemed like the better choice. "I think I want to stay here and take it easy. I'm too exhausted for anything else."

The actor let out a relieved chuckle and loosened his tie. It was then that Harry noticed Edward's attire, prompting bewilderment in his eyes. "You went to the film set?"

"Yeah," he sighed, tilting his head from side to side until a joint cracked. "I wanted to make sure you were alright, but I couldn't afford to skip work. I spent five hours there." He then settled at the foot of the bed and began removing his dress shoes. "And this isn't even my suit. I rushed out of there as soon as I finished shooting and forgot to change into my own clothes. The costume designer is probably going to have a fit."

"Wasn't her name Amber?" Harry inquired, conjuring the image of a tall, slim woman with angular features in his mind. Edward had introduced her to him one evening when they attended an event together. She was undeniably beautiful and seemed to be high-maintenance. "You mentioned she used to be your girlfriend or something. I'm sure she'd understand."

"She wasn't exactly my girlfriend. We just enjoyed each other's company," Edward explained, running a hand through his tousled golden hair and releasing a long sigh. He appeared more fatigued than Harry had ever seen him. "I've had a good time with almost everyone, Harry. It's not the same as genuinely liking someone."

"You don't like her?"

"She doesn't like me."

Everyone adored Edward. He was Edward, and that was reason enough.