janey_love-torn-us-under

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LOVE TORN US UNDER? by Janey

Jenna and James had been together for nearly fourteen months and three months ago they had bought a house and moved in together. Unfortunately since then they had hardly seen each other as James began gigging and doing interviews to promote his first solo c.d. So far all of the promotion had been in the UK, and had consisted of over a dozen gigs and countless interviews; consequently they hardly saw each other or got to spend any personal time together.

Jenna was an actress, and for the past 8 weeks had been touring with ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show.’ Her days were long and busy, like James’ and she also did lots of interviews and photoshoots. As a high profile and award winning thespian, she was in high demand.

Professionally nothing could be going better for either of them: Personally it was disintegrating around their ears, neither knowing what could be done to stop the slide. It wasn’t the time apart that was driving a wedge between them in itself, but that combined with the press interest in her ‘supposed’ relationship with a former co-star in a Hollywood film, and with James’ alleged dalliance with a leggy brunette model, just piled pressure on top of pressure.

Several days prior, Jenna had tried to contact James to let him know that Simon (the actor in question) had offered to fund her screenplay, along with some of his friends, a few of whom were well known, - James hadn’t called her back. The following day their pictures were gracing the sleazy tabloids; Jenna and Simon both staggering out of a pub, obviously the worse for having had too much alcohol. According to reports, they had gone to Jenna’s room and stayed there until mid-afternoon the following day.

Once again she had tried contacting James, fully aware that he would be livid with her. Yes she had drunk too much; she couldn’t hold her liquor anyway - but nothing more. No way had they spent the night together. Simon was staying at the same hotel; the entire cast was, but Jenna had assured him that she was ok, and he had gone to one of the hotels bars for a drink. There he had successfully charmed a young girl named Anna, back to his hotel room.

Now she and James were about to meet for crisis talks. The understudy was taking Jenna’s role for a couple of nights, and the explanation was that she was ill with flu, and so needed to take some time off. James would be with her because he was concerned about her.
Needless to say that when the various radio stations announced that they would have to reschedule their promised interviews with James and gave the ‘official’ reason behind the delay, his female fans swooned even more - adoring him for spending time with his partner during her illness rather than promoting himself.

The publicity machine had been in overdrive recently, with both Jenna and James vehemently denying any problems, but refusing to stage publicity events and photo opportunities ‘like some other couples feel the need to,’ they had mentioned no names - they didn’t need to, everyone knew.
“We’ll meet again when we can get the time to,” James had spat angrily. “Not when you vultures think we should.”
Regular opinion polls, conducted for morning television and trashy magazines, showed that ¾ of those polled believed that the relationship was fine, and that they were doing the right thing by not giving in to the media pressure.

For Martin and Terri it was a nightmare. James and Jenna hardly spoke on the phone any more and when they did, they couldn’t be civil for any reasonable length of time; usually because James just went off on a tangent and wouldn’t listen to Jenna.
The texts and emails they exchanged were venomous and vitriolic, with language so obscene it could turn the air blue. Even though he was accustomed to the guys swearing like mad, Martin was shocked. If you could get a gold medal for it at the Olympics, it would be a close run competition between the two of them.
Jenna had been driven home to ensure the smokescreen of her illness remained intact for at least a little while longer. She was now alone in their home; the home they had barely spent anytime in as a couple, to worry and fret about what would happen, whilst waiting for James to turn up.

As she waited she couldn’t help but cry, and she hated herself for it. It was a sign of guilt or weakness as far as she was concerned and she was neither. It had been very tough for her and James when word had got out about their relationship. Some ‘fans’ sent letters to her via the TV station she was in a show for; or to a theatre she was appearing at, warning for her to stay away from James ‘or else’. Others, on somehow finding out where she lived, attacked all the plants in her garden; sprayed paint all over her windows and paint-stripper over her car.

She had been attacked when out shopping; one woman in a supermarket had even poured a full jar of pickled beetroot over her, and all because of James. Jenna had lost count of the number of times she had been spat at; it had been a daily occurrence at first.
One time someone had very cleverly cut and pasted some photo’s, probably with the aid of a computer, to make it seem as though both Jenna and James were having affairs. The problem was, the dates they assigned to these ‘trysts’ backfired as James and Jenna were in fact away together.
Thankfully most genuine Manics fans, and Jamesy fans for that, just wanted him to be happy, and gradually things settled.

As she stood alone in their home, it no longer made her feel safe and secure, rather it made her realise that the end of that particular chapter of her life could be over. How had it gone this far? What had changed to let the rumours start forcing them apart? They had trusted each other implicitly, but now if one of them said it was Tuesday, the other would have to go and double check.

Jenna finished off her can of tasteless fizzy drink and her blood ran cold; James was unlocking the door. Suddenly it slammed shut.
“James,” Jenna stuttered, standing and clasping her hands in front of her nervously. In dark jeans and an open necked shirt he looked so gorgeous and sexy, and she was more certain than ever that she still loved him.
“Start searching for a place to live,” he barked, not glancing at her at all. “It’s over.”
“That’s it?” Jenna asked in astonishment. “No explanations or discussions about how we feel or what’s happened?”
“What happened,” he angrily said, standing less than two inches in front of her face, “is that you can’t keep your knickers on! You’re having an affair with Simon. Trouble is - you got caught honey!”
“You two faced Welsh midget bastard!” Jenna yelled with strength that astounded her. “What about you and that fucking stick insect of a model then? Strange that she was cavorting with hardly any clothes on in your video, and then you keep getting snapped having ‘cosy and intimate’ chats together! How come she always turned up were you where James?”
“That was a fucking set up!”
“What, all of them? Very convenient! Of course Mr ‘I’ve had more fiancée’s and conquests than you’ve had hot dinners’ is always right, so it must be me right?” Jenna was livid with him. “What is it James? Has my sleeping with you turned me from a virgin to a raging nymphomaniac? Trust me; sex with you is no great shakes, and, if I never had it again for the rest of my life I wouldn’t miss it!”

Jenna tried turning away from him, but he grabbed her roughly by her arm and dragged her back violently. So forcefully and violently that she slammed heavily into him.
“You whore.”
“Bastard.”
“If you weren’t a woman I would deck you.” James’ chest was heaving; he was so wound up with anger and frustration. His eyes were practically black and had a scary animalistic predatory aspect to them.
“Don’t let that stop you.”
James hissed aloud, the red mist of anger falling over him. He pushed Jenna firmly in her chest, making her rock backwards. Incredibly she managed to stay upright, though quite how she didn’t have a clue.
“You are no better that a bloody hooligan,” she hurled verbally at him at the same time as her knee made contact with his balls. James emitted a scream so shrill and piercing, even Jenna thought she was killing him.
With tears streaming from his narrow angry eyes, he slumped to the floor, covering his privates from any further assault and rocked like a baby in a cradle, muttering a stream of vitriolic nonsense.

How had this happened to them? Jenna wanted to hug him and tell him how much she loved him; she wanted to kiss him and never stop. She wanted to wipe away the tears and take his pain away. She just wanted to love him.
“Bitch!” James cursed as his breathing steadied now that his pain was subsiding.
“That would be that model - what’s her name again…” she pretended to think, “oh yes, Crappy.”
“Cassie,” he corrected her. “And don’t talk about her that way.”
“Sticking up for her James? My, my, it must be serious,” she said sarcastically. “I hope you’ll be very happy together, but as for this place, I think you should leave. I was the one who found it and fell in love with it; I organised everything and did the decorating - so until it’s sold - I’ll stay.”
“Sold?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Jenna, why sell it if you love it so much?” His voice was softly inquisitive.
“Do you honestly think I want to live somewhere that reminds me of you when this is over? Do I look like a masochist, James?”
He stayed silent; he had no idea what to say and suddenly he was feeling exhausted, and walked into the kitchen, put his arms out onto the edges of the worktop, and stared out of the window aimlessly. He was shocked when he tasted the wet saltiness on his lips.

Jenna began pacing when he hadn’t come back after five minutes; it was worrying her because he was so silent. She paced the lounge several times and then went to see what was happening. The vision that greeted her astounded her. James was sobbing - not crying - but really, really sobbing.
She held her hands up to her face and sighed deeply into them, hoping that it would help her control her feelings but she also began crying. Acknowledging that he could tell her to get lost Jenna approached him, and put her arms over his shoulders, then ran her hands up and down his back, in a soothing gesture.

“Oh James,” she said heavily, slowly and gently. “I haven’t been with him, I would never go with any one else, and I’m sorry for what I said, because I know you would never cheat on me. That’s not enough, I know that. I’m sorry, I’ll call a cab and stay at a hotel so that I’m out of your way.” She grimaced; she was saying goodbye to the relationship and it was tearing her apart, but she hated herself. She had reduced James to this, and she was ashamed of herself. Then there was the remark about sex; why the fuck had she said that?

Jenna was almost out of the kitchen when: “I’m sorry. She started taking an interest in me and just wouldn’t back off. “
It was quite possibly the hardest thing Jenna had ever listened to, not because of what James had said; it was hearing his voice getting hitched constantly in his throat. It was heartbreaking.
She turned around, and James was facing her now, though still several feet away. His eyes were red and watery; his lids heavy and swollen, his chest still rising and falling rapidly and his breathing laboured. He was like a lost little boy, and her stomach turned somersaults as her love and desire for him surged through her.
“Oh James,” was all she could find.
“She had a friend who worked for Terri. She gave her a list of the places I was doing promotional work at, so Cassie could go.”
“Because she wanted you or the publicity that you generated?”
“Both. Turns out she had a big crush on me, and saw more to the video than there was.”
“So why not tell me?”
“You always denied an affair with Simon; that’s why I began to believe it was true. You didn’t laugh it off.”
“James I denied it because it was lies and I was angry that anyone thought that I valued what we have so little, that I could hurt the man that I love.”
“He’s more your type.”

“Oh no!” She strode purposely and stopped a foot in front of James. James was staring down at his feet, so Jenna gently lifted his chin with her fingertips, and smiled at him when he finally met her gaze. “Can we get this out of the way for once and for all? I know that you have self-esteem issues James, just try to understand that I don’t care that he’s 28 years old with the body of Adonis, is very attractive and is rich and very popular with the ladies. Forget also the fact that he has just won his first Oscar, ok?”
“You’re not helping.”
“Forget all of that James, because he’s also self obsessed and can’t hold a conversation. He has no intelligence, is as dull as dishwater and has no charisma or personality. You have all of those qualities and more; that’s why I love you, and it’s why I’ll never stop loving you.”
“And this screenplay?”
“If it makes you more comfortable I’ll turn him down. I’ll get other backers James because I know it’s bloody good.”
“You’d do that?”
“Of course, without a second thought.”
“For me?”
“Not for you, no; for us. That’s the difference, but that’s also why I won’t let you fund it so don’t start that again. I won’t use your money like that, I want to try and do it on my own and asking you to have financial input is too obvious. After this one has won Oscar’s, BAFTA’S and whatever else I won’t need to worry about funding my next Hollywood screenplay - they’ll all want to be a part of it.”

James relaxed and smiled at her, her sincerity evident in her words, her tone and her body language. “I’ve really fucked up Jenna, I’m sorry.” He held a hand out to her and she placed hers in it, smiled warmly, and moved closer to him.
“We both have to learn to listen more. I got so angry with you for laughing it off and telling me not to worry, that even though I KNEW you weren’t doing anything, I just couldn’t seem to stop myself from throwing it at you when we argued.” She lowered her head into the curve of his neck, and James wrapped his arms around her, hugging her to him, and taking in the scent of her, the feel of her in his arms, and the warmth of her breath on his neck.
“Can we work our way through this?” he asked her hesitantly.
“If we want to badly enough we can.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Takes more than that to get rid of me Mr Bradfield.”
“Glad to hear it Miss Collins,” James giggled, and nuzzled lazily at the curve of her shoulder, gradually moving closer and closer to her neck. Jenna moaned, lifted her head, smiled coyly at him, and then felt his warm full lips tugging gently at hers.
“I’ve missed you,” she moaned into his mouth, fingers grappling to undo the rest of his shirt buttons, the frenzy of her passion overwhelming her.
“Hey now,” James smirked, breaking their kiss making Jenna glare at him in confusion. “You’re supposed to be ill with flu right?”
“Right.”
“So, if you’ve got flu, you go to bed and stay there until you’re better right?”
“Right!” she laughed.
“Come on then!” James giggled, picking her up in his arms, negotiating the suitcases, and ascending the stairs until he reached their bedroom, and placed her carefully on the bed, laying above her, caressing her face lovingly. “No getting out of this bed until I’m satisfied that you’re 100 % satisfied, erm, I mean well again.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” she murmured. “Make love with me James.”
James gazed at her with love and desire, captured her mouth in a deep kiss and tenderly undressed her.
Jenna’s understudy would be required to do several more appearances than had been anticipated.

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