[-13-]
Clark was sitting in the living area of the two room dorm suite watching a baseball game with his roommate Eddie when Paul, one of their other two suitemates, came through the main door.
“What up, Losers?”
Clark and Eddie exchanged a glance. In the world of roommates, Paul left a lot—quite a bit, in fact—to be desired. For the first time in his life, Clark was living (long-term) with someone other than his parents and it was proving to be one of the hardest things he had ever done. He shared a room with Eddie while Paul and L.T. (as Lou Tsai Ching preferred to be called) shared the room on the other side of the communal living space.
It was hard enough to have to keep himself in check when he was in public, but having to be on his toes twenty-four-seven was more difficult than when Lois was at the farm. Still… this had been part of his promise to experience new things. Upon starting classes at the college, he’d been allowed to test out of a number of the basic courses from outside the Communications and Journalism program. Transcript-wise, he was a junior—the year when most students declared their majors—but as he had only been in school for going on three months, he had some other “freshman” level requirements to fill. Such as spending a year in the dorms… which could have been worse if he weren’t in the hall for upperclassmen.
All the same, he couldn’t wait until the year was up and he could move out and into his own place.
“Mail call,” Paul called, walking up behind the couch and dropping an envelope onto Eddie’s lap from behind.
“So, remind me again, Clark… are you trying to become the next Robert Woodward or the next Harvey Levin?” Paul asked, repeating his earlier action of delivering mail to Clark, except with a tabloid magazine instead of an envelope.
Sighing, Clark looked down at the magazine in his lap and prepared himself for more of Paul’s ribbing.
Another magazine landed on the first. “I mean, come on man. This obsession of yours is getting out of hand.”
“Paul…” Eddie warned.
Paul was never one for subtlety though, and he continued speaking as he walked around the couch and flopped down onto the love seat while holding a long mail tube. “If you want to work for respectable newspaper—like you say you do—then you really need to stop reading that crap.”
Paul was either really smart under all of his brash crassness, or really well connected. He was the editor-in-chief for the university’s paper… which unfortunately also made him Clark’s boss.
“I don’t get it,” Paul continued, popping open the tube and sliding a rolled up poster out of the end. As he began unrolling the poster, his face contorted in a mixture of horror and amusement. “Dude, what the hell?!”
Clark frowned at his roommates actions. “What is it?”
Paul snickered and turned the poster around. “You tell me. You ordered it.”
It was a poster of Lola Dakota—a blown up shot from one of her Elle Magazine covers. For a cover photo, it was actually rather tasteful. She was posed sitting on the deck of a boat wearing a white linen outfit and smirking mysteriously at the camera. The contrast between the blue water, the white deck, her tanned skin, and the white and silver star design that covered the right side of her face painted an intriguing image. Clark liked it mostly because the way her hair danced in the wind made her look free… and happy.
“You opened his mail?” Eddie demanded angrily.
“Honest mistake,” Paul replied, obviously lying. “But what is a grown ass man doing with a poster like this?” He turned it back around so he could see the image again. “…Although she is damn fine.”
Bristling at the way Paul licked his lips while gazing at the poster, Clark jumped to his feet and crossed the small area between the couches. Careful not to rip the poster, he snatched it from his roommate and turned toward his room.
“What’s your problem?” Paul asked, still laughing. “Just admit you’re crushed out on her. I mean, it’s pathetic but it shows you’re human.”
“Paul,” Eddie warned again, “let it go.”
Clark could hear Paul’s response as he deposited the poster and mail tube on his bed. “Let what go? The fact that he buys all those tabloids to keep tabs on her? Yeah, L.T. figured that out a while ago. What makes him think he can find her when the whole world has been looking? He’s acting like a damn stalker, or… Hold up…”
Clark was about to head back into the common area when he heard Paul’s voice trail off. He wasn’t a stalker… not really. It was just that, he needed to talk to her… this time to apologize. And even though his mother had advised otherwise, he didn’t think he could honestly move forward without first making it right.
Closing his eyes he gritted his teeth and stepped into the doorway in time to see Paul pull out his phone.
“Let it go, Paul,” Eddie said again, reaching for the phone.
Paul jumped out of his seat, keeping the phone away from Eddie’s hand. “Holy frak!” Paul looked up from his phone to meet Clark’s gaze from across the room. “Ho-ly frak! It was you.” He laughed and started walking over to him, with Clark’s mood souring with every advancing step. “You are the *man*!”
Eddie looked at Clark and shrugged apologetically as Paul reached him and punched him on the shoulder. Paul held up the phone to show Clark the mobile web browser page he’d just looked up. “This is big, man! Do you realize how big this is? And here I thought you were just some backwoods hick from nowheresville, but come to find out that you’re the frakkin’ man!”
Paul lifted his chin in a slimy information-getting nod. “So, who was a better lay? Lois or Lola?”
Before he could think about acting, Clark had Paul pinned against the wall that had just been at his back, with his forearm dangerously close to the other man’s windpipe. Eddie was instantly behind him, trying to talk him down. Clark had never wanted to hurt someone so badly in his life.
For his part, Paul didn’t appear worried. Just smug. “It was just a joke, Kent,” he said, lifting his hands to the side in mock surrender. “Chill out.”
Clark suddenly realized that he had answered the question Paul had been fishing for without meaning too. He released him and rubbed his chin in regret.
Laughing, Paul stepped away from Clark and headed toward the front door.
“Paul, wait…” Clark tried.
“The *man*,” Paul repeated, grinning and ducking out the door.
Clark sighed heavily. “This isn’t good is it?” he asked aloud, turning to his friend.
Eddie solemnly shook his head. “But, hey, it’s just Paul. How much damage could he do?”
Clark dropped his head, knowing full well the damage Paul could do. There was no doubt that the story would be all over the Hall before dinner… For someone who had just been degrading tabloids, Paul was pretty talented in using their tactics. His own experience with the paparazzi told him that someone out there would want to hear whatever Paul had to say. His biggest fear was, that, given the popularity and global hunger for Lois’s story, Paul’s little tidbit would bring the feeding frenzy once again to his door.
“Eddie… I’d like to apologize in advance.”
Eduardo just shrugged and returned to the couch and the baseball game. “We’ll just ride it out.”
“You say that now,” Clark muttered. “He’s right. I am pathetic.”
His roommate didn’t turn away from the game when he answered. “Most people are when they’re in love.”
Clark scoffed aloud. He wasn’t in love… He hesitated at the thought but then shook it off. Thoughts like that had been what started the whole mess.
He was walking toward the couch when he heard his cell phone buzz against the desk in his room. Frowning, he conceded that Paul worked fast, but he didn’t think he worked *that* fast. He entered the room and picked up the phone (a smart phone that hated to admit was actually quite useful despite its pretentiousness), seeing that he’d gotten a text from Chloe. A few months earlier, she had finally decided to answer one of his many apologetic calls, and they had since been joined in their quest for any information on Lois’s whereabouts.
The text was a link to an online video site, so he clicked it and stared in wonder at the tiny screen. “Princess Lois Returns,” he stammered, reading the title of the video. He didn’t believe his eyes—the picture was so small and grainy and the lighting was horrendous—but his ears didn’t lie. He quickly flicked the browser window closed and sat down at his desk, bringing his sleeping laptop back to life and keying in the website’s address.
In full-screen size, the video was still grainy, shaky, and hard to see, but he knew without a doubt that it was her. Lois—*his* Lois—was on the stage at some type of club, sitting at a piano and singing a song he’d never heard. Just as he was marveling that she played the piano, the video abruptly cut off. Clark fumbled with the mouse in his haste to play the thirty second clip again—watching it five more times before clicking the button under the video to expand the video’s description.
It had just been uploaded a few minutes prior to his logging on, and the video author, someone named deOBee86, was already prospering from his or her discovery. **Full details of the first ever LOIS Lane sighting in my interview with Jiminez Olsen on JMZ TONITE!** the description screamed.
Clark sat back in his chair in amazement. Then, after a complete minute of silent shock, he grabbed his mouse and started the video again.
~\s/~
A thousand miles away, Chloe Sullivan was fighting tears as she watched the too short video of her cousin.
As soon as she’d been told about the video, she had sent it on to Clark. It had taken a while for her to release her anger at him for what had happened at Coachella nearly eight months earlier, but in the end curiosity had won out. With Lois missing in action, Clark had been the only one that could fill her in on the details… not just of that night, but of the nights and days leading up to it.
She had finally learned about their hidden relationship—well, almost relationship—and even though she couldn’t quite understand how everything had exploded so quickly and so destructively, she had allowed herself to extend a little forgiveness, if only because it made *her* feel better.
The video didn’t show Lois or her surroundings clearly, but Chloe could see enough to be amused by the ironic image the combination of position and setting created. It was almost as if she were looking at Lois’s mother… the piano… the small stage.
Apparently Lois was singing again, and she felt bittersweet about it. She was as happy as the other thousands of people who’d already left comments on the video, but it also killed her that she wasn’t a part of it. Oh, she wasn’t upset about her career—it was still on the rise, probably benefiting from the attention of people curious about her newly discovered connection to Lois Lane—her main heartache came from not having the close relationship she was accustomed to with her AWOL cousin.
Chloe smiled fondly at the screen, blindly reaching for her phone with it rang. She had been expecting Clark to call since sending the text.
“Amazing, right?” she gushed in greeting after pressing the ‘call’ button while still gazing at the screen of her computer. When the person on the other end of the call laughed, Chloe dropped her phone.
Scrambling, she picked it up in time to hear, “I hope you’re talking about me.”
Chloe found it hard to breathe. “Lois?!”
“Hey, cuz.”
“How… when… who…wha… I mean,” Chloe stammered, surprised and shell shocked.
Lois laughed again. “Use your words, Chloe,” she teased.
“…I just, I mean… Lois!”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“It’s been almost a year!” Despite her relief at finally talking to her, Chloe couldn’t help but yell. She was worried… she was angry… she was relieved…
“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Lois apologized. “I just needed…”
“You called your dad!” Chloe exclaimed, unable to stave off feelings of jealousy.
Lois groaned. “Actually, Tess did…”
“Tess?” Chloe repeated, hurt. “Tess is with you? I thought she quit.”
“She did. I guess we both did in a way.”
Chloe sighed.
“Chlo, I really am sorry. I didn’t mean… it’s just my *whole* world imploded that night and I didn’t know what to do or who to trust.”
“I didn’t tell him where to find you!” Chloe contested. Then frowning, she remembered Clark saying he’d seen her glance offstage… but that was reaching, wasn’t it?
“I know,” Lois answered, unaware of Chloe’s thoughts. “It’s not your fault, but after I left the concert, you know… after it all sank in, I blamed everybody. Guilty by association. It wasn’t rational.”
They were both silent for a few minutes and Chloe sat basking in having her cousin—her sister and best friend—back. “So where are you now?”
Lois chuckled and Chloe realized that all wasn’t quite right yet. Disheartened, she knew that Lois wasn’t going to tell her where she was. “Just know that I’m good,” came the simple response. “I’m doing okay.”
Chloe sighed again.
“So, I bought a farm,” Lois said, breaking into the awkward silence that had taken over.
“I’m sorry… You did what?” Chloe asked incredulously, smiling in spite of her other feelings. “A farm?”
“It was a spur of the moment thing. I guess I acquired a taste for organic milk.”
Chloe blinked, still not totally comprehending what Lois had said. She narrowed her eyes as she began to consider that maybe Lois’s stay with the Kents had more of an impact than she’d thought. “I… don’t know what to say.”
“It’s nothing really.”
“And… you’re living there now?” Chloe asked, confused.
“No, no. It’s just something… to have. So, listen,” she said, changing directions, “the reason I called—I mean, one of the reasons—um, I was hoping to catch you before things got crazy.”
“You mean with the music?” Chloe looked at her computer again. “What is with that anyway? Everyone is going postal over this video. I even saw it on MSLNC.”
Lois chuckled. “Well, be careful because they are probably going to come after you again for what you know.”
“But I don’t *know* anything,” Chloe said pointedly—it wasn’t like she would ever betray her cousin’s confidence if someone did ask her something about Lois’s hidden life (she never had before)—but she felt the need to highlight how left out she was feeling at the moment.
“I tried not to sing, really I did,” Lois started, not directly answering Chloe’s understated dig, but giving her the story she really wanted anyway. “I was planning on disappearing and just writing, you know. But performing… it’s like more than just singing… it’s interaction, it’s conversation… it’s breathing.”
Chloe knew exactly what she was talking about. To tell a story—which was essentially what Lois did with her songs—and have no one to tell it to, was like throwing away a heaven-sent gift. “Yeah.”
“Anyway,” Lois continued, “I’m starting back, but on my terms this time. Really low key. No planned tours or busses or stuff like that. If I write a song and I have the urge to sing it, I show up at a club and get on stage.”
“Wow, that is a different way of doing things,” Chloe said with a smile. “You realize that’s how your mom started out, right?”
“Huh.” Chloe could hear the amazement in Lois’s voice. “I guess I never thought of it that way. The trouble is that with all the attention,” she continued, “I can’t keep it under wraps for long. There aren’t supposed to be video cameras and stuff, but I guess someone got past Perry last night.”
Lois laughed again and Chloe acknowledged the amusing thought, but couldn’t find it in herself to join in on the laughter when she realized that yet another person was in on Lois’s new life that wasn’t her.
“Hey, so, I gotta go,” Lois said. “But I wanted you to know that I’m fine.”
“What about us?” Chloe asked. “Are *we* fine?”
It was momentarily quiet, then Lois asked, “Do you talk to him?”
Chloe immediately knew what she was asking and considered lying in case the answer rubbed her cousin wrong. “Yes,” she said finally, deciding on the truth.
The other side of the line was quiet again. Then Lois cleared her throat. “We’re good, Chloe. Or pretty damn close. Hey! That last single you dropped was unbelievable!”
Chloe finally was able to laugh freely. “Well, I’m no Lois Lane but I was pretty proud of it…”
“Hells bells, Chloe,” Lois interrupted (Chloe could almost hear Perry saying it—evidence of who she’d been spending time with), “if you’ve learned anything from my debacle of a life, then you should know that the only person you should ever try to be is yourself.”
Surprised, Chloe couldn’t think of what to say—her cousin was sounding uncharacteristically sage. Her thoughts were interrupted when Lois came on again. “You hear me, Gidget?”
Chloe smiled at the nostalgia the childhood nickname brought on. “I hear you.”
“Good girl. I love you.”
She’d hung up the phone before Chloe had a chance to say it back.
~\s/~
tbc...
