THE VAL STORY ********************* A gorgeous fiery red sunset was the perfect backdrop for shooting a movie. The ocean behind Val swayed, whispering to him. His blond hair blew into his stone cold blue eyes as he glared at his co-star, trying to look as angry as possible, waiting for Bridget to make her next move. Bursting into sobs, Bridget threw herself into Val Kilmer's arms. 'Okay, crying, hugs me, my line.' Val cued himself inside his head, struggling to remember his next few lines. 'I'm supposed to be mad, so keep a stern face.' He instructed himself, trying to keep his body and expressions as rigid as possible. "You," He started shakily in a quiet but angry voice. 'What comes next...' "You and I are through. Kaput. Nothing--I feel nothing at anymore.:: silence::" Val's mind froze. What was his next line? He had no clue. He needed to do something quick. His pause was okay for dramatic effect, but he was running out of time. Acting on an impulse, he continued. "Ahh--ahh--AhChoo! AhChoo!" He turned his head, fake sneezing into the crook of his elbow. His mind raced through all his lines, and then froze on that one particular one. "CUT! Cut, cut, CUT!" Vince, the director hollered. "Val...." He began, the whiny overtones of his voice really coming out. "I know..." Val said sheepishly, sniffling and running his hand under his nose, pretending that he had actually sneezed. "Sorry." He said, shrugging. "I didn't mean to." He lied. Vince heaved a great sigh. "Whether or not you meant to, you have ruined yet another take." Val began to defend himself, but Vince cut him off. "Val--look, we are going to be shooting for months as it is. We've been working on this scene all morning. Something happened every time. You sneeze, you forget your lines, the sun is in your eyes, the wind blows your hair... Every single take, you have managed to mess up in some way or another. Now, I'm going to warn you one last time, get yourself under control, or get out." Val eyebrow's shot up in amusement. "Oh?" He said playfully, knowing the director's threats were empty. There was no way Vince would fire someone now. They were three weeks into shooting--he couldn't find a new lead actor. "Kick me out will you?" He questioned playfully. He broke into a grin, his royal blue eyes sparkling. Vince tried to keep a poker face, but it was incredibly hard not to smile while looking at the radiant smile of Val. He simply glowed when he was happy. He smiled warmly at the young actor's grin, but then his smile fell and his eyes grew serious. "In all seriousness now, I'm not kidding, if you cannot keep yourself from ruining the takes, I will ask you to take a few days break, and we'll shoot someone else's scenes." Val nodded. If he could only get to his hotel room. He had his script up there. All he needed was one tiny peek at the script and everything would be fine. "Maybe, I could, possibly run into my room and..." "No!" Vince hollered. "We don't have the time for you to run down the beach and up to your room AGAIN. If you've forgotten your lines, tough. You were supposed to learn them by now. Now can you handle this?!?" Val nodded, feeling his face blush. He held up two fingers, making the Boy Scout's symbol. The corners of his mouth began to turn up again. "On my honor," he said, trying to keep a straight face. Suddenly, a real sneeze overtook him. "Hah--Tttchoo!" He sneezed, spraying out in front of him. It caught him by surprise. How weird, he thought to himself. Vince just shook his head. "Val..." He started. This time Val had a visible excuse to go to his room. He cupped his hands over his nose and mouth, sneezing again. The sneeze was quite wet, and he needed a tissue. "I thik I deed to blow by dose." He said, not taking his hands away from his nose. Vince sighed and nodded, jutting his thumb towards the door. "Go. Get a tissue, come back down here, and we'll shoot some more, then take a break. You sound like you could use it. But be quick about it! Five minutes, tops!" Val didn't need any more directions. He scuttled up the beach, the sound of his footsteps muted by the sand. He didn't even bother to put on his sandals as he raced up the worn carpet stairs, taking them by twos. Once he reached his room, he used his free hand to punch in the code for his door. The first thing he did was blow his nose and wash his hands. "Where is that script..." He wondered aloud, visually scanning the whole room. Nothing. His room was completely clean. The maid had done her job well. Darnit. There was nothing on his bed, nothing on the small, round table, nothing on the armchair... His eyes darted to the mini-kitchen/dining room. The tiny eating area consisted of nothing but a small table that folded into the wall and two hard chairs. The "kitchen" had a stove, a sink, a refrigerator and a toaster on the counter, but besides that, no place for a script to be. Every flat surface was bare. Maybe he had put it in his luggage... Val dumped one of his suitcases onto the bed, pawing through his clothes. Nothing. His breath quickened and his heart began to beat a little faster. He was beginning to get worried. Where WAS that script?? Nervously he ran a hand through his hair and tapped his foot against the linoleum floor in the kitchenette. What he needed was to buy some time. How could he do this... Vince had seemed to buy into his sneezes--maybe he could fake sick. 'After all,' He told himself. 'I'm a professional actor. I should be able to pull off faking a cold.' An abrupt rapping at his door startled Val. Bridget called "Val? Are you in here?" His breath caught in his throat. He'd need to act quick. With a flash of genius, he grabbed the pepper shaker from the kitchen counter and dodged into the bathroom. "Yes. Just a bidut, I'b id the bathroob." He called out, pinching his nose shut, trying to make his voice sound as nasal and congested as possible. With a jerky movement he turned on the hot water, and while it was running, he poured a little pile of pepper into his hand. 'This stuff is supposed to make you sneeze, so here goes! I hope it works,' Val thought, quickly sniffing the pepper into his nose. A small itch began to form in the very back of his nose. "Come on, I need better results than this!" He murmured, pouring a generous amount of pepper into his cupped hand, and inhaling deeply four or five times. His nose began to itch and burn. He splashed the hot water on his face, feeling it sting. He patted his face mostly dry and hurried to the door. An impatient Bridget stood in his doorway, her hands on her hips. Her hazel brown eyes showed a slight annoyance. She blew her chestnut brown bangs up in frustration. "Val!" She exclaimed. "Where have you been? We are ready to shoot here, we don't have all--" "HahCHOO!" Val exploded suddenly, the pepper tickling his nose. The force bent him over nearly double. "Hah--HahCHOO!!!!" He sneezed loudly, this time at least covering his nose. He sniffled and rubbed his nose, feeling it itch terribly. Bridget's facial expression immediately changed. She transformed into the over-protective mother. "Aww, poor Val. I thought you sounded bad down there!" He nodded pitifully, sneezing loudly again into his hands. "I was just gettig sub tissues, bud I cad't stob sdeezig. I dot't wat to cub dowd like this." He managed to get out stuffily before exploding into another body-wracking sneeze. Ow. That one had hurt. His stomach muscles were beginning to ache a little bit from the force of the sneezes. This pepper was really doing the trick. Bridget's eyes filled with concern for her co-star and friend. She slapped a hand on his forehead, and found it warm and damp. Val found it hard to keep from laughing, watching Bridget worry over him, thinking he was actually sick. He sniffled hard to keep from sneezing another humongous and painful sneeze, and swallowed. Big mistake. Any pepper that had been in his nose was now lodged in his throat. It burned, and Val began coughing, hacking in desperation of ridding himself of the terrible little grains of pepper. Upon hearing this dry, hacking cough, Bridget had enough. "That's it." She ordered, pointing towards his bed. "Get in bed. You are in no position to work today. You're coughing and sneezing to wake the dead, I'm sure you're running a temperature, and you should be in bed, not out working. I'll explain everything to Vince, you just stay inside and rest." She coaxed, pushing him gently towards his bed. Val nodded quietly, trying to look as dazed and sickly as possible. Turning towards the bed, he massaged his throat and murmured "Thanks Bridget... I owe you one..." She patted his back and said "Think nothing of it. I'm glad to do it." He climbed into bed, and she pulled the covers up around his chin, tucking him in like a little boy. "Now, if you need anything, anything at all, I want you to page me, or dial room service. I'll be up in a bit to check on you, okay?" "Mmmhmm." Val said sniffling. She smiled warmly at him and placed the box of tissues on his bedside table. "Take care of that cold, here me?" She said, turning towards the door. "Of course." Val said, coughing again. He waited until he heard the door click shut, and upon the sound of footsteps clumping down the stairs he jumped out of bed, searching for his script. "Thank God for small miracles." He said a loud, grinning. 'And the ability to act.' He added silently. Half an hour and four sneezes later, Val finally found his script underneath his bed. With a sigh of satisfaction, he flopped into the chair by the balcony. He grabbed one of the tissue boxes Bridget had left for him and ripped it open, just barely snatching one in time for his wet "Huhshoo!!" "Goodness. Guess I must have inhaled more pepper than I thought." He mumbled, reading through his lines, trying as hard as he could to remember them. Glancing at the clock, he noticed that it was nearly 9 o’clock. Wow. Val hadn't even gotten a chance to eat. Oddly enough, he wasn't hungry in the least. Actually, the thought of food made him nauseous. He was awfully tired though. Boy, was he sleepy. Val blinked hard, and rubbed his eyes, squirming in the hard chair, trying to make himself more comfortable. He yawned, and leaned his head against his shoulder, thinking maybe it wouldn't hurt just to rest his eyes for a second or two... When Val's eyes opened next, he was awakened by a sharp knocking at the door. He yawned and stretched, but then pulled back as his muscles ached. He massaged his next--it was cramped and sore from sleeping in a chair all night. He yawned again and shuffled towards the door. Opening it up, he found Bridget there again. "Hey." He said, his voice uncharacteristically low and scratchy, even for the mornings. He cleared it, but he still felt like his throat was made of sandpaper. "What are you doing here this early?" Bridget laughed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. She was clad in a silvery-blue bikini, blue jean shorts, sunglasses perched on top of her head and beach bag in hand. "This early?? Its almost 11 o’clock Val! Sleepyhead! I'm glad you slept well though, you still sound like you've still got a cold though, so I'd recommend you stay inside." Val sniffled and ran a hand under his running nose. He'd hoped she'd say that. He actually felt pretty bad. Must be tired. "Vince canceled all our shots for today, so you're off the hook. If you're feeling better later, come meet me down at the beach! It's going to be a gorgeous day." Val nodded, shivering ever so slightly. He wished Bridget would leave so he could go climb under the warm covers, get another look at the script. "Well, I'll get going now. If you need a drink, or soup or anything, just call for room service. Bye!" She hollered, heading towards the stairs. Val locked the door behind her and collapsed into bed. He was dizzy from just standing and listening to her. His head had even started to throb. Groaning, Val pulled himself up from the bed and dragged his feet listlessly across the room. Taking his script, he literally fell into bed. He propped himself up with pillows, and tried to read, but all the words kept getting off the page and running around the room. He finally just threw it on the floor after a good hour of trying to study. The tickle in his throat last night hadn't left. He'd been coughing all morning. Taking a tissue, Val honked his nose and tossed it into the rapidly growing pile by the side of his bed. His nose felt like it was going to fall off. It was all stuffed up and running, he'd needed to blow it once every minute. There was no getting around it, or fooling anyone this time: Val was sick as a dog. He coughed, rolled over on his bed and fell into a feverish sleep. Sometime around 4:30, Val was awakened again by someone knockin at his door. He tried to get up, but his body wouldn't let him. His arms and legs felt like dead weight. It was all he could do to whimper "Come in." And, once again, it was Bridget. She looked pretty--her face was a bit flushed, she had certainly gotten some sun. Her hair was wet, hanging down her back, and her legs were covered in sand. She gasped when she saw the sorry state Val was in. "You poor thing!" She exclaimed, resting a hand on his forehead. "You look terrible!" "Gee, thacks." Val wheezed out, his lips dry and cracking. His throat felt like the Sahara desert. His words were coming out horse and congested. "Shhh. Don't talk. I'll take your temperature." Bridget said calmly, walking over to the bathroom and pulling a thermometer out of the first aid kit. She stuck it in Val's mouth, and kept her eye on her watch. Suddenly, Val's nose began to tickle. He sniffed and scrunched his nose in every way possible, but there was no avoiding it. He at least managed to turn his head away so not to spray Bridget with the "HuhShoo!!!" Sniffling, he nestled his head back in the pillows. After what seemed like an eternity to Val, Bridget finally took the thermometer out of his mouth. She looked at it, shook it off, and said "You feel like crap don't you?" He nodded, eyes sad. "Your stomach a little queasy?" He nodded, clutching his stomach and trying not to think of food, in fears of throwing up. "You’re congested and hoarse?" Again, a nod. "You've got the flu buddy. A fever of one-hundred-and-two." Groaning, Val rolled over on his stomach, coughing into his pillows. "Poor thing." Bridget mused. "I really do feel for you, but I'm sure you'd rather be alone and just sleep." He shrugged. "Besides, I have a few errands to run while I'm down here, so I'm going to pick you up some Tylenol Cold and Flu and some Pepto Bismal and then I'll be back. In the meantime, just stay in bed and try not to move, okay?" That wouldn't be hard. Val had no intentions of leaving that bed. He nodded and inhaled deeply. "Hah--Hah--Huhshoo!!" Sneezing, he groaned. Bridget kissed him lightly on the top of his head. Love for Bridget filled Val, and he actually was sorry to see her go. At least she'll be back, he told himself. Sighing, he looked out his window at the gorgeous day. The sun was shining brightly, the waves were crashing, the beach looked amazing. He watched the kids outplaying in the sand, and longed to be out there too, frolicking among the waves and sun. Perhaps this was a message. Someone up there was telling him not to fake being sick ever again. The message came through loud and clear. Val sneezed again, and sniffling, he shut his eyes and tried to sleep until Bridget returned. ~*COMET*~