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Who's Who in London Hooligans - Orlando Bloom

Orlando's Journal

A cold winter morning

16th January 1885

This is a lovely journal that I nicked this morning. I left his bed and rifled through his clothes and belongings, finding a host of interesting things, including this beautiful leather bound journal.
Of course, looking back at him now and all the sighing and moaning he had been making last night, it was no wonder that the first pages of this book were filled with poems of love.
What use have I of dripping words of love? Love is a lie. I ripped them out and burned them in the grate. He was fast asleep when I left, taking with me the money he paid me for the use of my body, a nice linen shirt and this journal.

Now I’m here, and I think I shall use this journal to tell my story.

Looking back on my life, I feel a pang of regret but also, a sense of deep anger. I was so close to touching freedom and the comforts of a real life when it was ripped away from me. I had been a scholarship student at Eton. I was three months from graduating when I was betrayed.

There was a new student at school, with bright blue eyes and an innocent look. He intrigued me. I wanted him, of course. And I knew I would have him. It was only a matter of time. I had all the confidence in the world that he would fall to my charms like all the others had. There was only one thing standing in the way.

To be sure, I wasn’t in love with McCaulay. He was a tasty treat to keep me warm at night. A lovely boy with sandy blond hair and blue eyes. He was glad to have my company. After all, who wouldn’t? But after a time, he became distant. His midnight visits to my rooms became less and less frequent, and it bothered me. I cannot say why now, but I followed him one night.

Imagine my rage when I saw him not heading for my rooms, but for Elijah’s. Yes, the same boy-god with the blue eyes and slight frame, the same boy that I secretly wanted.

This was too much to bear. To think that not only had I been cast aside for Elijah, but that Elijah had cast aside me for McCauley. My anger flared to life and in a fit of pique, I made a decision that would forever alter the course of my life.

I went to a colleague and obtained a snuff of opium and planted it in Elijah’s rooms. If I couldn’t have either of them, I didn’t want them to have happiness. I waited until I knew they were together and I led the Headmaster to Elijah’s rooms.

I watched in wicked delight as they both faced the horror of expulsion and outcry of sin. I watched as Elijah was hauled away, screaming and crying in anger, pointing at me. I will never forget the hate in his eyes as McCauley wept. I will never forget the surge of triumph and satisfaction as the Board expelled him.

But little was I to know that McCauley would grow a spine and get his revenge. He turned on me, and I was powerless to stop the inquiries of the school leaders as he recruited others to testify against me. To be sure, I had slept with several students, and quite a few teachers as well. And so McCauley had his revenge, and I was thrown out of school, three months before graduating.

Having nowhere to go, I enfolded into the London underground, finding my place on the streets. My cunning and my sheer ability to seduce has led me to the top, and now I am the leader of this gang. Much to my frustration, it becomes necessary on occasion to sell my own body. There is a pimp we call Wormtongue who will come to me with offers, most of which I turn down unless I am desperate for coin.

Over the course of time, Elijah has become the leader of their gang. So once again my old enemy is a thorn in my side. Of course, I had a hand in putting him there. Seducing Sean Bean was nothing. A simple trick that even now makes me laugh with delight. Oh the look on Viggo’s face when he found out…and the smug satisfaction that he had lost his lover to me.

Ahh…the little pleasures. I take them where I can get them.

My gang is fiercely loyal to me. It is something I demand. I trust no one, except Dominic. He is the only one that I have let anywhere near me…the real me. And that is a danger that even now frightens me. He is the only one who I could lose it all with. He’s the only one who has ever even caught a glimpse of me. Not the me that laughs when men use my body, not the me that uses them back. But the part of me that trusts him.

So now I will use this journal to keep my thoughts and my plans. I will read back upon it and know why love is a cruel joke.

Who has needs for words of love? Loyalty, friendship, revenge…these things are real. But love?

Nay. Love is for fools.


Orlando was born on 13th January 1863 to a merchant and his wife in the city of Canterbury. His father was well known and respected in the city as a fine man. Perfect wife, beautiful son, everything in it’s place.

Yet not everything was as perfect at home. His father was a demanding man, expecting nothing less than perfection from his family, and when it was not forthcoming, retribution came in the form of a heavy hand. Yet still he hid the bruises and pretended nothing was wrong, learning very quickly that appearances were everything. His mother did nothing, ignoring her abusive husband and her son in favor of dainty cut glass decanter bottles filled with poison.

Their family was wealthy, and Orlando’s father had arranged that he would go to Eton for the completion of his education. At this point, Orlando’s entire focus was on school. To prove to his father that he was not a failure as he was so often called when the blows rained down on him. At the age of eleven, he left for Windsor to attend the ancient school, determined to succeed and escape once and for all the clutches of his overbearing parent.

Eton was a wealth of knowledge, and Orlando was a sponge.
At the age of fifteen met Jonathan, a classmate who would soon become his best friend. They spent hours together, studying, reading, talking, laughing, and getting into trouble.
As one year passed into another, Orlando began to feel something more towards his friend. Jonathan was the first person in his life to love him for who he was and not demand anything in return. And one day, Orlando discovered that his feelings of love for his friend went beyond friendship, and that Jonathan’s simple beauty was filling his dreams at night, making his body respond in ways that confused him.
It all came out one day when they were running to escape the shouts of their chemistry teacher, who had discovered them stealing magnesium powder.

“In here in here quick!• Orlando had hauled Jonathan into the library only seconds before the enraged professor turned the corner. Jonathan was gasping and out of breath and held tight against Orlando as the man ran past, still shouting their names. Orlando turned and laughed and grinned down at Jonathan, who was only a few inches shorter than him.
Blue eyes locked to his and in that moment, Orlando forgot everything. Those eyes were filled with so much admiration and awe and love. It was nothing at all to lean down and kiss his friend softly on the lips.
And then it was nothing at all to wrap his arms around Jonathan and pull him into the shadows. He finally let go of all he had held on to, feeling his fear slide away as Jonathan didn’t pull back in shock or horror, but instead returned his kiss with a heat that seared straight into Orlando’s heart.

Those next few weeks were the happiest of his entire life. Nights filled with the simple joy of discovery and love, and days filled with amused, blush filled glances during boring lectures.

But it was not to last. He had missed the tiny subtle hints and he ignored the coughing in the middle of the night. He denied the blood on the pillowcase in the morning and the cool shivers when he held him. Jonathan had never been a strong boy. He was slim and pale and was ill quite often. Orlando was in denial about Jonathan’s consumption, and he paid dearly for it.

“Please come with me to the tree tonight.• Orlando begged. “It’s warm and the stars are out.•

And Jonathan couldn’t say no. And they went, and they made love under the over hanging blackthorn tree. They fell asleep there, and during the night, the cold came and seeped into Jonathan, though he did his best to hide it. Orlando awoke and felt the chill, and looked down to see Jonathan’s face was pale with effort and his breathing was labored. No matter what Orlando did, he could not stop the cold. He carried Jonathan the entire way home, and watched helplessly as the nursing staff tried to save him.

And in the bitter early hours of the morning, he watched in terror as his best friend, his lover, the only person in his life who truly loved him, slipped into the darkness, never to return.

He watched as they mourned Jonathan. He watched as they covered the box with earth. He watched the only part of himself that was able to love was buried under layers and layers and layers of dark, rich soil. And he shed the last tears that he would ever shed.

He pushed away everything he felt and delved into his schoolwork. He listened and learned all he could, including the art of hiding. He learned how to listen without being heard, how to speak without giving away too much. He learned to pay attention to what shimmered under the surface. He learned to cut himself away from people who would make him feel.

The only pleasure he allowed himself was the comfort of sex. And this he did in excess. He shut himself off and used his body to bring him pleasure. It was a tool to be used, cut off from his heart and his mind.

There were many boys at Eton to chose from, some beautiful, some not. Some who pleased him and some who scorned him. The latter often found themselves running from Eton with their tails tucked between their legs. Orlando stopped at nothing to have it all, even if it meant treachery.

There was one young man that Orlando had met, however, that intrigued him. A boy whose eyes and body reminded him of Jonathan…beautiful and ethereal. He was the son of an Earl, and his name was Elijah Wood. He much desired this man, though he refused to delve into the reasons why. He used every moment that they were together to show his interest, but Elijah ignored him. It enraged him. So Orlando watched, and he waited in the shadows, waiting for the moment where he would deftly change Elijah’s mind. The prospect of it was tempting, and Orlando did not question his motives. He knew it was only a matter of a time.

In the Spring of 1881, he met McCauley. McCauley was enamored of Orlando at first, spending nearly every waking moment of his time in Orlando’s rooms, begging for just a touch or a glance. Orlando thought this was amusing at first, but he soon became weary of it. McCauley wanted more from him than Orlando could give. He wanted love and Orlando had no love to give him. He scorned and teased the boy, sensing weakness within him.

“You are a fool if you love me, McCauley.•

Yet all the while he sneered in contempt at the young man, the one tiny seed inside his heart spoke louder than it had in over a year.

He could love you, if you let him.

But Orlando would not make that mistake again. He had turned his fear to rage and shouted at the boy, screaming for him to get out and never come back. And his heart was twisting and aching the whole time.

McCauley did leave. And to Orlando’s shock, he didn’t return. Days passed and McCauley refused to look at him. Whole nights went by and he was alone. On the fourth night, he was seething with rage at being denied, and he crept down to McCauley’s room. He was rounding the corner when McCauley came out, and he pressed himself against the wall, following him silently. McCauley stopped outside of Elijah’s door, and Orlando watched in horror and rage as Elijah opened the door, pulling McCauley inside and slamming it shut.

He walked, quiet as a cat to the door and listened while his former lover and Elijah keened and cried out. With every sound, Orlando’s heart hardened a little more. With every gasp and cry, his rage grew.

Spurned by the one person who professed to love him? Pushed aside in favor of blue eyes and pale skin…cast away like a forgotten toy?
Orlando shook with rage, and he hated the other voice that reverberated in his skull.
Elijah chose McCauley over you.

He pushed away from the door, forming a plan in his mind that would alter the course of his life forever. A scheme that would turn his world on it’s ear and rip away the last shred of himself that cared.