Sometimes the answer to a plaguing question is right there in front of you. As it always has been. You’ve just never noticed.
“Don’t you walk away from me!” she heard him yelling after her as she stormed down the stairs of her mansion, finally stopping when she reached the kitchen. She can hear him bounding down the stairs as she walked over to the fridge - she reached for a glass pressing for ice as he entered the kitchen. She knows he is waiting for her speak; she doesn’t. She remained completely silent as she set the glass on the counter beside the fridge before opening the fridge to find a drink. She can hear his loud, angry breathing as she pours the guava juice into the glass before placing the carton back into the fridge. Once this is done she takes a straw from the cupboard and places it into the glass before she turns to walk out of the backdoor - leaving him standing there.
“Paula,” he whispered brokenly as he followed her out to the backyard. He watched as she sat by the pool edge dipping her bare feet into the water. She still remained completely silent as he moved to sit near her - near her but not next to her. “We have to talk about this,” he whispered. “It’s been three weeks.”
“I know,” she whispered brokenly, her fingers resting on her flat, empty stomach. “Our baby died. I killed her,” she says as she begins to sob - shuffling off his touch as he attempted to console her. “Don’t touch me!” she hissed angrily as she threw her glass against a near-by wall, feeling a small amount of her pain leave her as she watched the glass shattering into thousands of small pieces.
“She was my baby too!” he yelled, shocked at her reaction to his touch. “Don’t shut me out! She wasn’t meant to be, she just wasn’t,” he whispered, looking down at the water.
“Get out,” she says, her voice low and even containing very thinly hidden anger.
“What?” he asks shocked.
“I said GET OUT!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, as she stood up. She backed away from him; unable to be near him. “She wasn’t meant to be, she just wasn’t!” she exclaimed angrily, parroting his earlier words.
“Paula,” he whispered as he walked toward her.
“I want you to go. I never want to see you again. Just go!” she screamed as Daniel and Ryan came through the door. “GET OUT!”
He simply stood there, motionless and shocked as she said those words to him. He felt Ryan’s hand on his shoulder as he watched Daniel wrapping his arms around Paula; hugging her sobbing form as she broke down in arms. Her body afflicted by hard, gut-wrenching sobs at the loss of their baby.
“Simon,” Ryan whispered as wrapped an arm around Simon’s shoulder leading him round the side of the house, and out to Ryan’s car. Simon silently and solemnly got into the car; saying nothing as he stared out of the window - watching as Ryan slowly drove them away from Paula’s home, away from Sherman Hills altogether.
“She was my baby too,” he whispered through the silence as Ryan continued to drive them through LA towards the airport. Ryan had already phoned Julie telling that he was sending Simon on the private jet to London, he needed his mother during this time. She would meet him at the airport - Ryan had arranged for everything upon Simon’s departure from LA to his arrival in London.
“I know buddy, I know,” Ryan replied his voice equally soft as once again the silence began to envelop them.
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Once he’d seen Simon off at the airport he headed back to Paula’s house.
“She’s asleep,” Daniel told him as they headed into the kitchen. They sat down at the table facing one another.
“He’s just as devastated and broken as she is,” Ryan said softly, their features illuminated by the moonlight coming in from the big, back doors.
“Where is he?” Daniel asked as he took a sip of his hot-chocolate.
“On a plane to London, and before you criticise him for leaving. I made him go,” Ryan replied.
“You, why?” Daniel asked.
“He needs his mum, so before all of this kicked off I rang her and told her everything, I told her that I was putting him on the next flight out and that he needed her, now more than ever. I keep seeing his face as we drove to the airport. It was so broken, so defeated and destroyed. It was like he no longer had anything to live for,” Ryan said softly.
“I don’t thinks she blames him, she just lashed out. She’s wanted a child for so long. I mean I know they were only supposed to be having an ‘affair’ but we both know it was so much more than that; they were in love. She was with a man she loved, and she was having his baby. It was everything she’d ever wanted, and then it was all cruelly taken away from her,” Daniel said as he took a sip of his hot-chocolate, finishing it.
“A modern day Romeo and Juliet,” Ryan quipped bitterly.
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The two of them bolted upright. They must have fallen asleep with their heads resting on the table as they saw the sunlight pouring into the house. They turned their heads to the stairs as they heard movement.
“Hi,” she whispered softly as she entered the kitchen clutching Thumbelina in her arms. “Simon loves Thumbelina,” she whispered, as the rest of her babies came into the kitchen after her.
“One second,” Ryan said as he heard his phone beeping in his pocket. It was Simon. It read: ‘Thanks. In London.’ he quickly read the text - ignoring the fact that he could feel her gaze burning into the back of his head.
“Who was that?” she accused as he put the phone back into his pocket.
“No one,” Ryan replied standing, he took the empty hot-chocolate mugs and placed them into the sink.
“Who was it?” she asked once again; her tone becoming louder.
“It was Simon, telling me that he had arrive in London, after I sent him there last night. Ok!” he sighed exasperatedly. “I’m sorry honey,” he whispered. The guilt consuming him as he saw her crestfallen expression, watching her as she tried so hard to stop her tears from falling.
“It’s ok. How is he?” she whispered, lifting her head to look him in the eye.
“Hurting just like you. Come here,” he said as he opened his arms. She placed Thumbelina on the floor before she flew into his arms, sighing as she melted into his embrace.
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“With sadness in my heart, I've decided not to return.” she felt a huge weight being lifted off of her shoulders as she pressed ‘Tweet’. That was it. She and American Idol were done, they were finished, kaput. After eight, long years she was no longer a judge on American Idol. She would no longer judge talent, she would no longer watch it grow as the season progressed. No instead she would have to watch It from a TV screen as it happened miles away.
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She sighed as she heard her phone buzzing on the table in front of her; she had a text message and she knew exactly who it was from. The text simply read: ‘After all this time, this is how you end things.’ she knew how much her decision would hurt him, but it was the right decision. It was a decision that she needed to make, and despite the pain it was causing at the moment, it was a decision she was glad she’d made.
After tomorrow was when she was going to begin a new chapter in her life. The chapter of Paula Abdul the mother. Yes she’d made a decision, a decision which she’d thought long and hard about. A decision which she’d agonised over with her family, a decision which she’d ultimately decided was right.
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“Danny I’m bored!” she exclaimed as she lay in her bed; doctors orders. “Come entertain me!” she said as he entered her bedroom carrying a needle; it was time for another hormone injection. “Do we have too?” she asked, pointlessly.
“Yes, we do, if we want to get pregnant?” he said, sighing exasperatedly for what felt like the millionth time. It was like speaking to a small child.
“We?” she asked, laughing.
“Yeah,” he replied as he sat on the edge of her bed. “I want to be ‘Cool uncle Danny!”
“Go ahead,” she replied as she lifted the duvet, turning onto her side giving him access for the needle. She inhaled sharply as she felt the needle pushing through her skin, the liquid seeping into her. “Thanks Danny,” she whispered once he’d withdrawn the needle and thrown it away.
“Back to the doctor tomorrow,” she said as she threw the duvet back over her.
“You picked one?” Danny asked, cringing slightly as he said it. It wasn’t like she was picking a dress or something, she was picking sperm. Some unknown guy among thousands had donated his sperm and she was going to use it.
“Yeah this one,” she said as she handed him a small folder. “And I know your still freaked out about this.”
“Nice,” Daniel replied after a few moments of silence. “Wait… he’s British?” he questioned. He quickly returned his gaze to the folder as Paula gave him a look. “Male 30. British businessman/ record-executive, who loves girls and fast cars.
Has four siblings: one younger brother, two older half-brothers and a step-sisters from his fathers first marriage,” he read out.
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“Can I look yet?” she asks impatiently, for the millionth time. “Can I?”
“No. You still need to wait another minute,” Daniel replied as he looked down at his watch. “Girl chill!” he said as he watched her pacing around her bathroom, if she carried on any longer she would wear the carpet out.
“I can’t Danny!” she replied as she continued to pace. “This test could change my life forever, so when you say chill. It is something that I cannot do.”
“It’s time,” he said picking up the test in his hand, as he handed it to her. He watched as he eyes darted back and forth between the test and the instructions. She did this over and over, and over and over again until she placed the test and the instructions down on the side of the bath. “Well? What does it say?”
“I’m pregnant!” she squealed loudly, her eyes filling with tears as she placed her hands on her flat stomach. The happy tears fell from her eyes as Daniel wrapped his arms around her; hugging her tightly as they rejoiced in her news. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered after the hug had ended.
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It was now early October.
“Guys come in. Sit down in the living room,” she instructed as Ryan, Randy and Kara entered the house, looking confused. “I’ll explain in a minute, drink?” they nodded. She returned to the living room a few moments later carrying a tray of drinks, which she set down on the coffee table before taking a seat on a nearby chair.
“Thanks,” the three guests chorused as they each took a drink from the tray.
“Paula what’s going on?” Ryan asked after a short silence had passed. “And I know it’s October, but this is you, so what’s with the loose clothing?”
“What I am about to tell you can go no further. Understood?” she asked seriously.
“We understand. Honey you’re starting to freak us out. Please tell us what is wrong?” Kara pleaded.
“I’m pregnant. 16 weeks to be exact,” Paula replied, smiling. She removed her hooded top, leaving her clad in a t-shirt ; a t-shirt with a small, almost unnoticeable swell beneath it.
“What? How? What? How?” Ryan began to question quickly, in total confusion as he pointed at her stomach.
“I used a donor. And yes I know! Before you voice your feelings towards it, I’ve already had this particular lecture several times. I went through my options over and over again in my head, and this seemed like my only plausible option. I’m pregnant with my own baby and I never, ever have to worry about fathers or custody agreements.”
“Honey,” Kara began. “Just know that we love you and despite what reservations we may have about donors, we are so, so happy for you.”
“Thank you,” Paula whispered. “I can trust you guys, not to say anything, right?”
Both Kara and Randy nodded in assurance, but Ryan didn’t. He remained silent, looking down at the floor.
“Ryan?” she whispered as she got up from her chair and sat next to Ryan on the small loveseat. “Ryan, can I trust you?” she asked carefully.
“Where’s Simon? Why isn’t he here?” he replied gruffly.
“I…” she stuttered. “I don’t want him to know just yet. You know exactly why Ryan!”
“Yes! I know! Which is why, I cannot believe that we are all here, and he isn’t. He’s completely oblivious to this, when he of all people deserves to be told first!” Ryan snapped as he stood from the loveseat.
“Why?” Randy asked bravely. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell us.”
“I do,” Paula began as she turned to face them. “Simon and I were having an affair, and I fell pregnant. We were despite what you would think, so incredibly happy. I was about six or seven weeks along when I suffered a miscarriage. It destroyed Simon and I, irreparably damaging our relationship. It’s a major reason why I left Idol.”
“Oh honey,” Kara whispered. “We’re so, so sorry.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” came Ryan’s voice. “Why haven’t you? And why aren’t you going to tell Cowell?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt him, ok!” she snapped. “I don’t need this extra stress. It isn’t good for me or for the baby.”
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Today had been a very, very stressful day. As has the rest of the week. On Monday she was forced to announce her pregnancy, today was Friday and she’s been hounded ever since, by everyone and anyone trying to get a quote of almost any kind. She is just so tired, and all she wants to do is change into her pyjamas and go to sleep.
So that’s what she does. She bid goodbye to all of her assistants and her staff, before she shuffled herself and the dogs up the stairs into her bedroom. The dogs climb the little doggy-staircase and curl up at the bottom of her bed, as she prepared herself for bed. As her stomach expands, she finds herself wearing loser things to bed. Her current choice is an old t-shirt of Simon’s that he’d forgotten.
She turned off the light, leaving a lamp on in the corner of the room as she climbed into bed, whispering “Night, night baby.” Before she shuffled down and attempted to get comfortable - Well as comfortable as she can in her condition. Eventually she does every night, she realises that the most comfortable position for her to sleep in is on her back.
She’s lightly dozing - her attention is intently focused on the backs of her eyelids as her conscious mind slips closer and closer to the edge of unconscious with every passing minute. Her efforts to sleep are brought to a staggering halt when she feels loud, angry footsteps on the stairs. She feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in fear as the footsteps get closer.
“Simon,” she gasps, the breathe she’d been holding in now forces it way out of her mouth as the door quickly opens allowing Simon entrance to her room. She sits up and moves the duvet away from her body, allowing Simon’s gaze to move away from her face as it focuses on her expanding stomach. “Simon,” she whispers.
“It’s true,” he breathes, moving closer to her.. She feels her heart breaking as she takes in the totally broken expression on his face as he stares at her stomach; at her child. “I can’t believe you never told me. I thought you cared about me,” he says brokenly to her; touching her stomach - smiling when he feels the baby react to his touch. “Things between us are finished,” he replied coldly before he fleeing her room, and her home - leaving her and her unborn baby alone.
“Simon,” she sobbed softly, as she heard the door downstairs slamming. She curled into a ball - well as close to a ball as she could get and sobbed herself to sleep. She awakened the next morning hope to find out that it was all a dream; it wasn’t.
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“I miss my babies!” she wailed, for the millionth time since they’d been stranded. Since the heavy-snow fall had left them stranded inside Ryan’s home three days ago. Paula, Ryan, Kara and Randy has been left trapped and bored inside Ryan’s sprawling mansion. Plus Paula’s due date was less than a month away, so she was getting rather large. Her mood swings were increasing both in intensity and in frequency.
Especially when Ryan had brought out the game of Monopoly for them to play. They’d been playing for half-an-hour when Paula had decided the game was lame, and she’d turned the board over. They’d laughed because she was losing and she didn’t like it. She was now laying across the sofa, as Randy, Ryan and Kara sat on the floor playing Monopoly. She was lightly dozing when she felt a dull, throbbing pain in her stomach, she thought it was simply Braxton hicks so she ignored it.
As the hours drew on the pains in her abdomen seemed to increase. “Maybe this isn’t Braxton hicks,” she whispered, hissing as another contraction hit her small, tired body.
“Paula?” Ryan called as he looked over at her. “What’s wrong?” he asked, as he moved away from the game, and over to her by the sofa.
“I think… I think I’m in labour,” she hissed through clenched teeth. Her hands clutching tightly at the sofa beneath her. The pain had become more frequent, more common and certainly more painful as the day had worn on; she knew it was only going to get worse.
“What?” Ryan squeaked, his voice rising several pitches as Kara and Randy rushed over to her.
“Ryan! Go and get some towels and a blanket. Randy, you go and get her some pillows and I’ll go and get some hot water. You’ll be fine sweetie,” she whispered as her, Ryan and Randy rushed out of the room.
“Simon,” she sobbed as the pain seemed to intensify once again. “I need you.” But of course Simon didn’t come. He was stuck in England, thousands of miles away from her, when she felt like she needed him the most. He would hold her hand and tell her that everything was going to be ok. He’d whisper sweet nothings in her ear, to try and soothe her a little.
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“Honey, your at ten centimetres. It’s time to start pushing,” Kara instructed softly.
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“It’s me. We’re snowed in, and she’s in labour. We can’t get out. Help us please!” he pleaded over the phone. “Thanks,” he replied, hanging up.
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“It’s a boy!” Ryan beamed as he held the newborn, Bradley Abdul in his arms. “A beautiful baby boy,” he whispered, tearing up slightly as he passed Bradley back to his mother.
“Aww, look Ryan’s crying!” Kara and Randy teased, as Ryan shot them a glare.
“Am not!” Ryan huffed, wiping away the moisture that had gathered around his eyes. “Simon!” he squeaked as he heard a knock on the door.
“You got a snowplough?” Ryan asked dumbfounded as he saw the machine behind Simon.
“Yeah,” Simon shrugged. “Now where is she? We have to get her to the hospital. I got a car which is going to take her to the hospital. It’s going to follow the snowplough,” he said as he turned to walk away.
“Thanks!” Ryan yelled to Simon just before he disappeared from view. He quickly went back inside - it was cold. He entered the living room to find everyone including the baby watching him like a hawk. “What? Oh right! That was Simon, he got a snowplough to clear a path, as well as a car to take you guys to the hospital. So Kara will you please help the two of them get ready, so we can go,” Ryan instructed.
“He’s gone?” Paula asked brokenly, as she looked down at the baby.
“I’m sorry sweetie,” Ryan replied. It killed him a little when he saw the totally distraught look on her face,
“Let’s go,” Paula said as she appeared from around the corner, bundled up and holding on to Kara for support as she walked slowly into the hallway. Wincing slightly after every second or third step she took. “It hurts a little bit,” she whispered as Kara led her outside.
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“Welcome to your home,” she whispered to the sleeping baby, as she lifted the carry-cot out of the car. It felt so good to be home, to be out of the hospital and back in her own home with her son. Little Bradley never stirred as she carried him inside the house. “Come on honey. Let’s go put you in the nursery,” she cooed, as she carried the carry cot up the stairs with Daniel following behind her.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, as she opened the door to reveal a fully decorated nursery. Complete with a jungle-themed room, that was fully furnished with all the necessary things and more that she’d need to take care of the baby with. She felt the happy tears flowing from her eyes - her hormones making her cry so, so easily as she handed Bradley to Daniel, so that she could inspect the room. “Simon,” she whispered, softly as she saw the note attached to the big, brown teddy sitting in the crib.
It read: ‘Congrats on the baby. S.x’
“You like it?” Daniel asked.
“You knew?” she asked, shocked.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “He called me and told me his plans, and that you couldn’t know. I would say that this is the perfect baby gift.”
“I can’t believe he did this,” she whispered, as she fished her phone out of her pocket so that she could text him. ‘Thank you.’ she texts. Mere seconds later her phone beeps with a reply. ‘No problem.’ he replied.
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“Ryan!” she yelled, as she saw Ryan was down the hall talking to some girl.
“Hey!” he replied enthusiastically as he saw her and the baby coming towards him.
“Will you help me set up in Si’s trailer?” she asked, as he approached her. He lifted Bradley out of her arms.
“Hey buddy!” he beamed proudly, as his Godson smiled at him. “Yeah sure, I’ll help,” he replied, the three of them making their way out along the corridor to Simon’s trailer in the yard.
“He’s four months old and Simon’s never met him. My visit tonight has finally given me the courage to face him again. He’s going to meet Bradley, and he’s going to like it. By the way he isn’t here yet, so we have to hurry.”
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“Before you say anything. There is someone I want you to me,” she says softly, cutting of his attempts at speech as he comes into his trailer - alone. She grabs a hold of his hand and pulls her towards him. “Simon Philip Cowell meet Bradley Philip Abdul,” she whispered as Bradley opened his eyes - his gaze fixated on Simon. “Pick him up,” she whispered, as she nudged him forward as Bradley lifted his arms.
“Hello handsome,” Simon said softly as he lifted Bradley into his arms with a practiced ease - Bradley quickly nuzzled into him; bonding with him.
“He likes you,” she whispered. “Watch him please, whilst I go get ready.” she doesn’t give him a chance to protest as she rushed into the changing area where Daniel was waiting for her.
“Well,” Simon said uneasily. “I guess it’s just you and me for a while,” he said, as he sat down on the sofa with Bradley sitting in his lap, staring up at him with a familiar gaze.
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“He’s a natural with him,” Daniel said to her as he watched Simon blowing a raspberry on Bradley’s stomach, before he returned to his duties as hairdresser stylist.
“Just like he should have been with our baby,” she whispered - her mind replaying the time during their brief affair when she’d fallen pregnant. She’d only been about six weeks gone when she’d miscarried.
“I know Hun,” Daniel said softly to her, as he curled her hair with the curlers.
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“Darling,” he purred down the phone to her, despite the fact that it was 4am in Los Angeles and she had a screaming baby in the next room.
“This better be good, Simon,” she growled, holding the phone to her ear, so that she could venture into the nursery to try and settle Bradley.
“It is darling,” he replied. “If you check your computer and your schedule you should find some tickets under your name for you and Bradley, to come visit me the week after your birthday. And before you say anything, I already called your assistant to make sure you had this week free.”
“Sneaky git,” she replied before ending the call. She knew he knew what her answer would so she didn’t bother giving it to him in word form. She also knew that Mezhgan would be in Los Angeles that week, so no interruptions.
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Before she knew it, the time had passed and on a plane in first class sat her and Bradley, bound for London, Heathrow. She felt a wave of relief pass through her as Bradley promptly fell asleep, once the plane had levelled out. This wave of relief momentarily made her forget about the feelings of nervousness which were pumping around her system with every second she came closer to seeing Simon Cowell again.
She took a deep breath as she and Bradley stepped off the plane onto English soil. She smiled when she saw a familiar sight standing in the window. There was a spring in her step as she walked further and further away from the plane, getting closer and closer to the familiar sight standing in the window.
“Ba!” Bradley squealed loudly, as he saw Simon walking towards them with open arms and a wide, beaming smile on his face.
“Hey buddy!” he replied, as he kissed Paula on the cheek before hoisting Bradley into his arms - he seemed to fit naturally into them. “Let’s go get your luggage!” he said, allowing Paula to wrap an arm around his waist as they walked in the direction of the baggage claim. A few discreet bodyguards behind them, for when the paparazzi caught wind of their presence. The time of silence, and not being harassed would be brief.
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“Welcome to your London home,” he said to Bradley as they walked through the door. Simon passed Bradley back to Paula, so that he could fetch their bags.
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Bradley was napping on the sofa a wall of pillows around him as Simon was in the kitchen fixing drinks, and Paula was on the floor looking through Simon’s photo albums. She is gazing through a photo album photo which contains pictures of Simon during his younger years. Her breath catches in her throat when she sees a photo of Simon as a baby. It is like she is looking at photographs of Bradley. The two of them are identical. Now it hits her. It hits her like a ton of bricks, all of the gestures Bradley made were one’s she’d seen Simon making.
“What’s wrong?” she lifted her head to see Simon staring at her with a worried expression upon his face. “Paw-ler?” he set the drinks down before rushing over to her.
“Did you ever visit a sperm bank in Los Angeles?” she questioned, her voice calm and even.
“Excuse me?” he asked confused. Why the hell was she asking him this? He wondered.
“Answer the question?” she said.
“Once about twenty years ago. I was on holiday here with a few mates, we walked past a sperm bank and a mate dared me to do it. Why do you ask?” he said.
“Because as you know I used a sperm bank to conceive Bradley…” she trailed off. “… and I was looking through your photographs when I realised that these pictures of you as a baby are identical to what Bradley looks like now.”
“You think I’m his father?” he breathed. She nodded.
“When I think about it the info provided by the donor matches things which describe you,” she said shakily. “You could be my babies father. He could be our baby. He could be a Cowell. Bradley Cowell,” she whispeed softly, as she watched the rise and fall of Bradley’s chest with each breath of air he took during his sleep.
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The rumours regarding Simon and Mezhgan, and the state of their relationship are riff around the world. You cannot go on a gossip website without coming across several articles regarding the two.
She had just put Bradley down for his nap when she hears her mobile phone ringing downstairs. She tucks the baby monitor into her lap before she rushes downstairs to get it. “Damn!” she cursed when she sees it’s a missed called from Simon. She doesn’t have to wait long, he rung back almost immediately.
“Hello,” she answered.
“He’s my son,” Simon answered breathlessly. “Bradley is my son.”
“You have the results?” she asked.
“Yes! They are in my hand!” he snaps. “Weren’t you listening when I said he’s my son!”
“Yes I was!” she snapped back. “Oh, my God Simon, we have a baby.”
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The following statement was released by Max Clifford:
‘My client Simon Cowell has informed me that his engagement, even his relationship with Mezhgan Hussiany has ended upon his discovery that he’d fathered Paula Abdul’s son Bradley Abdul. Now named Bradley Abdul-Cowell. Things between Simon and Mezhgan had been deteriorating for a while.’
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“You may kiss the bride.”
“Mr Cowell,” she whispered as their lips came together in a flurry of passion, love and heat.
“I love you Paula,” he said softly, as he picked up their son who looked dashingly handsome in his little suit. “And you little man.”
Wednesday, 7 July 2010
Broken Soul
She would fix him. She would be the one to put his broken pieces back together. She and no one else would fix his broken soul.
He’s walking along the corridor which leads him out to the car park. That’s it another show down. One less show he has to do, one step closer to leaving Idol for good. He’s tired and all he wants is to have a cigarette before getting into his car, and going home, and going to sleep.
That is all he wants too do until he sees a sight which makes his heartbeat thump loudly in his ears as his blood pressure rises…. There she is. She’s been avoiding his calls - contrary to what he’d told the world. She’s been avoiding his calls, his emails, and especially him. She’s been avoiding having any contact with him at all and now he knows why; there she is kissing the man he thought was his best friend.
He can’t let them see him like this, he’s not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing his broken, angry body this way. So instead he turns and walks the other way hoping that a walk back towards his trailer and back will have given them enough time to leave, allowing him to be able to walk to his car and not have to let them see him like this.
No…he go back into the shadows and allow himself time to process and to ignore what he’d just seen… his hands all over her whilst they attacked each other passionately on the lips. As he drove home all he could think about was when he was in Ryan’s place. When his hands had been the ones roaming all over her body… her beautiful naked body.
The endless nights they’d spent exploring, tasting and mapping one another’s bodies as they lay between the silk sheets of his London home as Terri was in America working. She’d only come over to London to do the X-factor auditions and she’d never left… she only left when Terri announced she was coming home and that her fling with Simon was just that, a fling.
After that things between them became strained, off camera they never spoke at all and on camera the performance they were giving should have earned them an Oscar. Slowly things between them seemed to mend, it became easier to enjoy the others company and the shame of what they’d done… what they longed to do once more was no longer coating things like a veil.
She split with JT at around the same time he’d split with Terri. He loved Terri he really did, but it wasn’t that kind of love. His love for Terri he realised was like a love a brother has for his sister, so yes their relationship began to feel incestuous. His love for Terri didn’t leave him itching to be near her if they were parted, it didn’t leave his skin burning from her touch nor it leave him yearning for more. After a while he realised that she was his safety net and the two of them remaining together was just cruel for the both of them.
The night the story about him and Terri had broken, she came over to find him curled up on the sofa with a bottle of half-empty whisky by him on the floor. He wasn’t wasted instead he was sort of numbed. He didn’t even notice her taking a swig of the whiskey before she washed the rest down the sink. He let a small noise of distress as she pushed him down flat on the sofa, so that she could spread her body on top of his. Nothing sexual involved. They just lay there and talked silently deciding that their friendship was too important to them to go ahead and destroy it by another quick lust-filled affair… it just wasn’t worth it.
She told him she was fine with him being with being with Mezhgan just as he’d told her that he was fine with her leaving Idol; they’d both told a lie, something they were raised not to do. Both of them weren’t okay with the decisions being made in the others lives, yet they said nothing.
Things after she left Idol and news of Mezhgan began to surface. began falling apart once again. She never came over to his for drinks with Ryan and Randy, and he never came over to hers for dinner. Ryan and Randy had both tried to find out what was going on between them, but with each attempt they were simply told one thing: “Things are fine.” and that was it.
He never told her he’d proposed to Mezhgan. He’d been too scared to tell her so he took the cowardly and the most costly option by allowing her to find out via the tabloids. He knew she’d found out his news when he saw his phone lit up with a text message: “Thinking of getting a new makeup artist.” He knew she knew just by reading that message. She was being sarcastic, and she only ever sent sarcastic messages when he’d done something particularly hurtful. Something which she’d struggle to forgive.
He’d heard rumours that Ryan and Mezhgan had once been lovers a long, long time ago and that things between them had ended amicable and before they got in to deep. He was just angry… the image of the Paula and Ryan together in the car park, their hands roaming their bodies sparking other more full-on images to appear in his mind.
“Simon! Simon!” he heard the voice of his fiancée call as he entered the house, as he threw his keys on the nearest table before stalking upstairs and slamming the door to his office shut. The idea of facing anyone right now, especially when he was feeling the way he was feeling, was something which was out of the question; he needed to be alone.
He awoke the next morning to find himself laying on the office sofa with a blanket draped over him. ‘Mish…’ he mused silently to himself, allowing a small smile to graze his lips as he lay there thinking about nothing. He allowed his good mood to grow, he lay there just about to get up when he heard the sound of Ryan’s voice in the hall. Right there and then his good mood shrivelled and died.
He didn’t want to even look at Ryan… the memories of last night, the images were now once again all too prominent in his mind. He needed to get out of there. “Can’t talk meeting,” he yelled as he came into view of the man he didn’t want to look at. He grabbed his car keys from the table and bolted from the house quicker than he’d ever done before in his life. He knew they’d asked questions and demand answers from him, but he wasn’t going to give them.
He sends her a text message purely out of spite. ‘Was thinking of asking Kara to join AXF’s panel.’ He knows that he’d never ever ask Kara to join the panel of American X-factor. Where he respects Kara on a professional level for all that she has achieved personally they have never gotten along the way he and Paula did after the debacle which was their relationship in season one. He tolerated Kara and the way she kept touching him…. What the fuck was with that? If she was a dude he’d have already smacked him. But no the producers had told him that it was all in aid of getting more viewers.
This week for the first week of the top 12 for American Idol season 9. Today was the first day where he would have to come face to face and spend time around him. Ryan had sent him several text messages asking him if there was a problem. Had Ryan done anything wrong? Simon simply blocked his number after the messages and phone calls became more frequent he just didn’t want to face him; he couldn’t.
He watched as the lights came back up and Ryan came back onto the stage.
“Michael Lynche singing Miss You by the Rolling Stones, everybody!” Ryan spoke loudly through his microphone as he came to stand next to Michael, his gaze firmly on Simon.
As Randy, Ellen and Kara gave their comments on Michaels performance Simon allowed himself to look at Ryan, his anger building up inside of him as thoughts of him and Paula together begin flooding his mind. Finally it was his turn to speak; he plastered a fake but believable smile upon his face as the cameras focused in on him.
“Uh… I thought look… you’ve definitely, definitely got you confidence up now Mike, particularly after last week. It was such a great performance. If I’m being honest particularly when you see the clip of the Rolling Stones back I thought the performance at times particularly your dancing was kind of corny.” Randy scoffed as the audience booed him. “And… uh it was and you sang, you sang it well, umm uh, I didn’t when you watch it back uh it was verging at times - my turn - a tiny bit desperate,” he replied to a room full of disagreeing groans.
“What, what, what parts about the dancing you mention - Dance Party USA Mr Cowell - but what part of the dancing or the other uh or other components of the performance looked desperate to you?” Ryan asked with a slightly aggressive tone to his voice.
“Do you want me to talk to you or to Mike?” he heard himself reply; his voice agitated.
Suddenly Ryan was bounding down the stage towards him with a glint in his eye; he had a point to make. He leaned down so their faces were mere inches away from each other before he calmly inquired, "I'm actually trying to help him out a little bit because I want him to stay in this competition. Are you all right with that?"
The rest of the night went off without much problems, the tension are Simon and Ryan carried on. As soon as the end had arrived Simon bolted from his chair, ignoring Ryan’s voice as he all but ran too his car and sped off home. He couldn’t last much longer; his heart simply hurt too much.
The next night between him and Ryan wasn’t any better, they began as soon as the show began to air sniping at one another. He’d just come out of a quick meeting with the Fox executives when he’d realised that he’d left his tin of mints by the judges tables - yeah it’s mints but he really loved that tin. His father had given it too him years previous. With the tin of mints securely back in his pocket he was making his way along the dressing room corridor to the exit when a sound - a familiar sound made him stop dead in his tracks; Paula moaning. They were in their having sex. He let out a loud screaming sound as he banged against the door before taking off down the corridor trying to not let his tears overwhelm him.
He could hear the two of them screaming after him, telling him to stop. He knew they were chasing after him wanting to explain what he’d discovered but he wouldn’t stop; he couldn’t so he continue walking as fast as he could until he found himself in the car park surrounded by all the Idol staff. Randy, Ellen and Kara rushed over to him as they took in his almost broken self. He collapsed into Kara’s arms as they enveloped him; he clung tightly to her as he heard Paula and Ryan approaching him.
“Simon please can we talk! You weren’t supposed to find out like that!” he could hear Ryan and Paula pleading as he clung even tighter to Kara trying to block them out. “Simon,” she whispered in his ear; his poodle as she knelt down next to him. “Please listen to us.”
“No,” he replied coldly as he kissed Kara on the cheek and stood up; dusting himself off as he took a deep breath, before turning swiftly to Ryan his right fist connecting swiftly with Ryan’s jaw. He heard Paula scream out in horror as Ryan fell to the ground out cold. “I already knew,” he whispered brokenly before walking away from the crowd and getting into his car where he sped off quickly; leaving everything and everyone in his wake completely dumbfounded.
He drives and drives until he can no longer drive; he’s run out of petrol. He’d turned his phone onto silent while ago after all the missed calls he’d gotten. He needed peace and quiet, and now he’s gotten it; he’s all alone somewhere outside of Los Angeles in the dark; far out of Los Angeles.
He gets out of the car and because he can he decides to walk away from the pain in his; the further he gets, the more the pain in his heart there seems to be. He cannot escape it; all he can see in his mind is her beautiful face as she gazed warmly at after their lovemaking.
He left her a message: “I miss you,” he whispers, he doesn’t notice as he strays a little too far and bright lights fill his vision silencing him; silencing his long, long journey to nowhere. He feels like he is flying on a cloud. He can hear voices; muffled voices before the silence finally overtakes him.
She is sitting to Ryan as she holds an icepack to his swollen jaw when she hears her phone beeping in her pocket; she’s gotten a voicemail. She smiles despite all that has happened as his voice fills her ears, “I miss you,” he says before she hears an almighty crashing sound. Her heart fills with fear as the line goes silent before a voice fills it, “Oh My God! It’s Simon Cowell! We knocked over Simon Cowell!” someone screams before the voice goes dead.
“What! What’s happened?” Ryan asks her as he notices how white she’s gone. “Honey, what is it?”
“Simon,” she whispers brokenly. “He’s been knocked down. I’ve got to find him,” she whispers before taking off for her car sitting in Ryan’s drive. “I’m driving!” she hears him say as they get into the car. She’s in no state to drive; she’s broken and filled with worry. They drive around for what must seem like hours until Paula tells him quietly to go down a road and surely enough after some more driving they are stopped by police; up ahead there is a crash.
“Who is it? Whose crashed?” Ryan demands from the officer as he winds down the window.
“Sim-” the officer begins, only managing to say three words before Paula is out of the car and past the tape running towards the lights.
“SIMON!” she screams as she notices a body being lifted into an ambulance; she knows its Simon because he’s wearing the watch she bought him. “I’m going with you!” she says with a note of finality in her voice as she closes the ambulance doors behind her. “Oh my darling,” she whispers brokenly as she takes him in; he’s broken in more ways than one.
She would fix him. She would be the one to put his broken pieces back together. She and no one else would fix his broken soul.
She paced and paced a thousand times or more, a small stretch of floor outside of the operating theatre waiting for news on his condition; she hung on every sound every breathe as time passed. As even more time passed and even more pacing there was still no word. ‘What if he’d dead?” she thought. Her heart breaking a little bit more as the thought now continued to dance around in her head.
“Ms. Abdul.” a voice broke her out of her daydream. She lifted her head to see a doctor standing besides her; he was wearing what looked to be surgeon’s clothing. “Ms. Abdul.”
“Yes?” she whispered, “Yes?” she replied stronger as she stood up to shake the doctors hand. “How is he?”
The doctor tells her that he suffered serious damage and that he’s been taken to the intensive care unit, but she can see him. She braces herself before she enters the intensive care unit where she knows he is. She spots him at the end of the room; she screams silently as she takes in his body. He’s broken still; she needs to fix him and his broken soul.
She rushes to him, taking his hand in hers as she tries not to disturb the many, many machines keeping him with her. Time passes slowly as she sits beside him, holding his hand as he sleeps peacefully. “I love you too,” she whispers as she strokes his forehead softly with the tips of her fingers, running her fingers alone his hairline. She knows he loves her, she always has. She’s just been too scared to reveal it.
She knows it’s not possible really, but she believes that he knows she’s here with him now. That he knows she loves him too. Her heart aches so badly as she looks at his badly worn out face. The car had hit him head on sending him hurtling backwards to the concrete below him. Breaking his skull, causing him to bleed internally as a broken rib punctured his lung. She couldn’t bear to hear anymore after that, it was simply too painful.
She blamed herself for this. She is the one who’d been ignoring him, she’s the one who entered a relationship when she was in love with another man just to try and quench pain; she only made it worse.
She smiles as she sits down on his lap for the Idol Finale 2010 which had been postponed until Simon had recovered. She smiles as he wraps his arms around her, she smiles down at the ring adorning her special finger.
She smiles because she and no one else had fixed his broken soul.
He’s walking along the corridor which leads him out to the car park. That’s it another show down. One less show he has to do, one step closer to leaving Idol for good. He’s tired and all he wants is to have a cigarette before getting into his car, and going home, and going to sleep.
That is all he wants too do until he sees a sight which makes his heartbeat thump loudly in his ears as his blood pressure rises…. There she is. She’s been avoiding his calls - contrary to what he’d told the world. She’s been avoiding his calls, his emails, and especially him. She’s been avoiding having any contact with him at all and now he knows why; there she is kissing the man he thought was his best friend.
He can’t let them see him like this, he’s not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing his broken, angry body this way. So instead he turns and walks the other way hoping that a walk back towards his trailer and back will have given them enough time to leave, allowing him to be able to walk to his car and not have to let them see him like this.
No…he go back into the shadows and allow himself time to process and to ignore what he’d just seen… his hands all over her whilst they attacked each other passionately on the lips. As he drove home all he could think about was when he was in Ryan’s place. When his hands had been the ones roaming all over her body… her beautiful naked body.
The endless nights they’d spent exploring, tasting and mapping one another’s bodies as they lay between the silk sheets of his London home as Terri was in America working. She’d only come over to London to do the X-factor auditions and she’d never left… she only left when Terri announced she was coming home and that her fling with Simon was just that, a fling.
After that things between them became strained, off camera they never spoke at all and on camera the performance they were giving should have earned them an Oscar. Slowly things between them seemed to mend, it became easier to enjoy the others company and the shame of what they’d done… what they longed to do once more was no longer coating things like a veil.
She split with JT at around the same time he’d split with Terri. He loved Terri he really did, but it wasn’t that kind of love. His love for Terri he realised was like a love a brother has for his sister, so yes their relationship began to feel incestuous. His love for Terri didn’t leave him itching to be near her if they were parted, it didn’t leave his skin burning from her touch nor it leave him yearning for more. After a while he realised that she was his safety net and the two of them remaining together was just cruel for the both of them.
The night the story about him and Terri had broken, she came over to find him curled up on the sofa with a bottle of half-empty whisky by him on the floor. He wasn’t wasted instead he was sort of numbed. He didn’t even notice her taking a swig of the whiskey before she washed the rest down the sink. He let a small noise of distress as she pushed him down flat on the sofa, so that she could spread her body on top of his. Nothing sexual involved. They just lay there and talked silently deciding that their friendship was too important to them to go ahead and destroy it by another quick lust-filled affair… it just wasn’t worth it.
She told him she was fine with him being with being with Mezhgan just as he’d told her that he was fine with her leaving Idol; they’d both told a lie, something they were raised not to do. Both of them weren’t okay with the decisions being made in the others lives, yet they said nothing.
Things after she left Idol and news of Mezhgan began to surface. began falling apart once again. She never came over to his for drinks with Ryan and Randy, and he never came over to hers for dinner. Ryan and Randy had both tried to find out what was going on between them, but with each attempt they were simply told one thing: “Things are fine.” and that was it.
He never told her he’d proposed to Mezhgan. He’d been too scared to tell her so he took the cowardly and the most costly option by allowing her to find out via the tabloids. He knew she’d found out his news when he saw his phone lit up with a text message: “Thinking of getting a new makeup artist.” He knew she knew just by reading that message. She was being sarcastic, and she only ever sent sarcastic messages when he’d done something particularly hurtful. Something which she’d struggle to forgive.
He’d heard rumours that Ryan and Mezhgan had once been lovers a long, long time ago and that things between them had ended amicable and before they got in to deep. He was just angry… the image of the Paula and Ryan together in the car park, their hands roaming their bodies sparking other more full-on images to appear in his mind.
“Simon! Simon!” he heard the voice of his fiancée call as he entered the house, as he threw his keys on the nearest table before stalking upstairs and slamming the door to his office shut. The idea of facing anyone right now, especially when he was feeling the way he was feeling, was something which was out of the question; he needed to be alone.
He awoke the next morning to find himself laying on the office sofa with a blanket draped over him. ‘Mish…’ he mused silently to himself, allowing a small smile to graze his lips as he lay there thinking about nothing. He allowed his good mood to grow, he lay there just about to get up when he heard the sound of Ryan’s voice in the hall. Right there and then his good mood shrivelled and died.
He didn’t want to even look at Ryan… the memories of last night, the images were now once again all too prominent in his mind. He needed to get out of there. “Can’t talk meeting,” he yelled as he came into view of the man he didn’t want to look at. He grabbed his car keys from the table and bolted from the house quicker than he’d ever done before in his life. He knew they’d asked questions and demand answers from him, but he wasn’t going to give them.
He sends her a text message purely out of spite. ‘Was thinking of asking Kara to join AXF’s panel.’ He knows that he’d never ever ask Kara to join the panel of American X-factor. Where he respects Kara on a professional level for all that she has achieved personally they have never gotten along the way he and Paula did after the debacle which was their relationship in season one. He tolerated Kara and the way she kept touching him…. What the fuck was with that? If she was a dude he’d have already smacked him. But no the producers had told him that it was all in aid of getting more viewers.
This week for the first week of the top 12 for American Idol season 9. Today was the first day where he would have to come face to face and spend time around him. Ryan had sent him several text messages asking him if there was a problem. Had Ryan done anything wrong? Simon simply blocked his number after the messages and phone calls became more frequent he just didn’t want to face him; he couldn’t.
He watched as the lights came back up and Ryan came back onto the stage.
“Michael Lynche singing Miss You by the Rolling Stones, everybody!” Ryan spoke loudly through his microphone as he came to stand next to Michael, his gaze firmly on Simon.
As Randy, Ellen and Kara gave their comments on Michaels performance Simon allowed himself to look at Ryan, his anger building up inside of him as thoughts of him and Paula together begin flooding his mind. Finally it was his turn to speak; he plastered a fake but believable smile upon his face as the cameras focused in on him.
“Uh… I thought look… you’ve definitely, definitely got you confidence up now Mike, particularly after last week. It was such a great performance. If I’m being honest particularly when you see the clip of the Rolling Stones back I thought the performance at times particularly your dancing was kind of corny.” Randy scoffed as the audience booed him. “And… uh it was and you sang, you sang it well, umm uh, I didn’t when you watch it back uh it was verging at times - my turn - a tiny bit desperate,” he replied to a room full of disagreeing groans.
“What, what, what parts about the dancing you mention - Dance Party USA Mr Cowell - but what part of the dancing or the other uh or other components of the performance looked desperate to you?” Ryan asked with a slightly aggressive tone to his voice.
“Do you want me to talk to you or to Mike?” he heard himself reply; his voice agitated.
Suddenly Ryan was bounding down the stage towards him with a glint in his eye; he had a point to make. He leaned down so their faces were mere inches away from each other before he calmly inquired, "I'm actually trying to help him out a little bit because I want him to stay in this competition. Are you all right with that?"
The rest of the night went off without much problems, the tension are Simon and Ryan carried on. As soon as the end had arrived Simon bolted from his chair, ignoring Ryan’s voice as he all but ran too his car and sped off home. He couldn’t last much longer; his heart simply hurt too much.
The next night between him and Ryan wasn’t any better, they began as soon as the show began to air sniping at one another. He’d just come out of a quick meeting with the Fox executives when he’d realised that he’d left his tin of mints by the judges tables - yeah it’s mints but he really loved that tin. His father had given it too him years previous. With the tin of mints securely back in his pocket he was making his way along the dressing room corridor to the exit when a sound - a familiar sound made him stop dead in his tracks; Paula moaning. They were in their having sex. He let out a loud screaming sound as he banged against the door before taking off down the corridor trying to not let his tears overwhelm him.
He could hear the two of them screaming after him, telling him to stop. He knew they were chasing after him wanting to explain what he’d discovered but he wouldn’t stop; he couldn’t so he continue walking as fast as he could until he found himself in the car park surrounded by all the Idol staff. Randy, Ellen and Kara rushed over to him as they took in his almost broken self. He collapsed into Kara’s arms as they enveloped him; he clung tightly to her as he heard Paula and Ryan approaching him.
“Simon please can we talk! You weren’t supposed to find out like that!” he could hear Ryan and Paula pleading as he clung even tighter to Kara trying to block them out. “Simon,” she whispered in his ear; his poodle as she knelt down next to him. “Please listen to us.”
“No,” he replied coldly as he kissed Kara on the cheek and stood up; dusting himself off as he took a deep breath, before turning swiftly to Ryan his right fist connecting swiftly with Ryan’s jaw. He heard Paula scream out in horror as Ryan fell to the ground out cold. “I already knew,” he whispered brokenly before walking away from the crowd and getting into his car where he sped off quickly; leaving everything and everyone in his wake completely dumbfounded.
He drives and drives until he can no longer drive; he’s run out of petrol. He’d turned his phone onto silent while ago after all the missed calls he’d gotten. He needed peace and quiet, and now he’s gotten it; he’s all alone somewhere outside of Los Angeles in the dark; far out of Los Angeles.
He gets out of the car and because he can he decides to walk away from the pain in his; the further he gets, the more the pain in his heart there seems to be. He cannot escape it; all he can see in his mind is her beautiful face as she gazed warmly at after their lovemaking.
He left her a message: “I miss you,” he whispers, he doesn’t notice as he strays a little too far and bright lights fill his vision silencing him; silencing his long, long journey to nowhere. He feels like he is flying on a cloud. He can hear voices; muffled voices before the silence finally overtakes him.
She is sitting to Ryan as she holds an icepack to his swollen jaw when she hears her phone beeping in her pocket; she’s gotten a voicemail. She smiles despite all that has happened as his voice fills her ears, “I miss you,” he says before she hears an almighty crashing sound. Her heart fills with fear as the line goes silent before a voice fills it, “Oh My God! It’s Simon Cowell! We knocked over Simon Cowell!” someone screams before the voice goes dead.
“What! What’s happened?” Ryan asks her as he notices how white she’s gone. “Honey, what is it?”
“Simon,” she whispers brokenly. “He’s been knocked down. I’ve got to find him,” she whispers before taking off for her car sitting in Ryan’s drive. “I’m driving!” she hears him say as they get into the car. She’s in no state to drive; she’s broken and filled with worry. They drive around for what must seem like hours until Paula tells him quietly to go down a road and surely enough after some more driving they are stopped by police; up ahead there is a crash.
“Who is it? Whose crashed?” Ryan demands from the officer as he winds down the window.
“Sim-” the officer begins, only managing to say three words before Paula is out of the car and past the tape running towards the lights.
“SIMON!” she screams as she notices a body being lifted into an ambulance; she knows its Simon because he’s wearing the watch she bought him. “I’m going with you!” she says with a note of finality in her voice as she closes the ambulance doors behind her. “Oh my darling,” she whispers brokenly as she takes him in; he’s broken in more ways than one.
She would fix him. She would be the one to put his broken pieces back together. She and no one else would fix his broken soul.
She paced and paced a thousand times or more, a small stretch of floor outside of the operating theatre waiting for news on his condition; she hung on every sound every breathe as time passed. As even more time passed and even more pacing there was still no word. ‘What if he’d dead?” she thought. Her heart breaking a little bit more as the thought now continued to dance around in her head.
“Ms. Abdul.” a voice broke her out of her daydream. She lifted her head to see a doctor standing besides her; he was wearing what looked to be surgeon’s clothing. “Ms. Abdul.”
“Yes?” she whispered, “Yes?” she replied stronger as she stood up to shake the doctors hand. “How is he?”
The doctor tells her that he suffered serious damage and that he’s been taken to the intensive care unit, but she can see him. She braces herself before she enters the intensive care unit where she knows he is. She spots him at the end of the room; she screams silently as she takes in his body. He’s broken still; she needs to fix him and his broken soul.
She rushes to him, taking his hand in hers as she tries not to disturb the many, many machines keeping him with her. Time passes slowly as she sits beside him, holding his hand as he sleeps peacefully. “I love you too,” she whispers as she strokes his forehead softly with the tips of her fingers, running her fingers alone his hairline. She knows he loves her, she always has. She’s just been too scared to reveal it.
She knows it’s not possible really, but she believes that he knows she’s here with him now. That he knows she loves him too. Her heart aches so badly as she looks at his badly worn out face. The car had hit him head on sending him hurtling backwards to the concrete below him. Breaking his skull, causing him to bleed internally as a broken rib punctured his lung. She couldn’t bear to hear anymore after that, it was simply too painful.
She blamed herself for this. She is the one who’d been ignoring him, she’s the one who entered a relationship when she was in love with another man just to try and quench pain; she only made it worse.
She smiles as she sits down on his lap for the Idol Finale 2010 which had been postponed until Simon had recovered. She smiles as he wraps his arms around her, she smiles down at the ring adorning her special finger.
She smiles because she and no one else had fixed his broken soul.
Frozen.
Things between them seemed to have gotten worse, they were slowly escalating to a place of no return.
“Maybe you learned it all from him!” she replied watching the part of the tape over and over again, as she sat at home watching the episode of Idol from the night before. Things between her and Simon had gotten even worse, they were slowly but surely escalating to a point of no return. She didn’t hate Simon; he just made her so mad, they had known each other for a short time and he was already under her skin more than any person she’d ever known.
She hadn’t meant to say what she’d said on live television. She really hadn’t, but he’d just been getting under skin so much more than usual and she’d snapped. She’d known something was up the second she’d said it; Simon become very silent and subdued, only speaking when asked too and even then he spoke very little. The second they went off air Simon had rushed off, not allowing her to speak to him; to find out why her comment had upset him so much. She was just about to leave her dressing room when someone knocked on her door.
“Come in,” she called.
Moments later Randy and Ryan entered with solemn facial expressions.
“What?” she asked as they closed the door behind them and asked if they could take a seat on her sofa.
“There’s something you should know about Simon, something which will explain a lot of things,” Ryan replied in a solemn manner.
“Go on,” she replied as she turned her make up chair to face them before taking a seat; mentally preparing her body for what was to come.
“Simon’s dad… he uh, died a few years back-”
“Oh God,” Paula whispered as she buried her face in her hands.
“He and Simon were quite close, his dad was like his best friend, someone who Simon looked up to and when he died. Something inside Simon sort of died too. So when you said what you said tonight, all of which Simon thought was healed became broken again. He’s never gotten over the loss of his dad,” Ryan replied.
“We thought you should know,” Randy whispered before he and Ryan excused themselves from her dressing room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
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“Ryan!” she cornered in Ryan in the parking lot as he was about to get into his car.
“Yeah,” he replied as he unlocked his car, placing his things inside.
“Do you have Simon’s address, I really want to go and apologise, please?” she pleaded when she saw the questioning look on Ryan’s face. “I won’t tell him you gave it to me, if that’s what your worried about.”
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She sat outside of Simon’s rented mansion, it was a beautiful house. She knew someone was home because there seemed to be a bedroom light on. She glanced down at the code to the house written on a bit of paper. She knew he wouldn’t let her in, so she’d also begged Ryan for the code. Reluctantly he given it to her and now here she was.
Her hand was shaking as she keyed in the code, opening the gates so she could drive her car into the safety of Simon’s gates. She sat in her car for what seemed like an eternity before she mustered up the courage to at the very least get out of her car and make her way to the front door.
She used the key Ryan had given her to open the front door. She gasped as she took in the beautiful home she was stood in. “Focus!” she quietly scolded herself as she began to look around for Simon. “He’s not downstairs,” she mused as she began to climb the elaborate spiral staircase to the first floor.
She searched every room she passed and there was still no sign of him. That is until she heard a faint sound coming from behind a closed door. She opened the door a crack to see Simon sitting on the bed with his back to her staring at a photo.
“Dad, I miss you so much,” she heard him whisper brokenly. “I need you to help me with this pain, please,” he whispered before moving back onto the bed and curling into a ball.
“I’m so, sorry Simon,” she whispered as she rushed to the bed and spooned behind him. Wrapping her arms tightly around him as he unexpectedly turned in her arms resting his head on her chest, where he broke down sobbing. “I’m so, sorry Simon,” she whispered after he’d fallen asleep in her arms; his exhaustion claiming him.
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No one knew what had transpired between Simon and Paula at his home not even Ryan. They did know that things between Simon and Paula couldn’t continue this way; snapping at one another, at every given opportunity. Now that Idol had finished for this season and Fox had renewed the show; Randy, Ryan, Ken and Nigel had come up with an idea to try and change the relationship between the ‘Star-Crossed Lovers’.
So with a trip organised and paid for by Fox the Idol group: Ryan, Randy, Ken, Nigel, Paula and Simon were to spend a week at a ski resort of Big Bear in southern California, where it had begun snowing early that year. It was non-negotiable; they were going skiing. Ken and Nigel stood at the head of the table as Randy and Ryan sat opposite two very angered people known as Simon Cowell and Paula Abdul.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Simon raged as he stood up from his chair.
“This is some joke right?” Paula asked as Simon began pacing around the room, like a caged animal.
“I’m afraid not, Paula,” Ken replied. “We all as a group need to have some bonding time-”
“Bonding time!” Simon yelled interrupting Ken, “Don’t fucking patronise me! I’m not going! I’m going to go now and get breastfed by my DEAD father!” Simon snapped before leaving the room.
“I’ll go,” Ryan replied as he ran after Simon, shooting Paula a look before he left.
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“Randy, I don’t think, I can do this,” she whispered as her and Randy neared Big Bear. “I can’t be around him, like this. I just can’t.” she smiled when Randy took her hand in his, whispering to her that everything would be fine.
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“Paula this is the key to your cabin, it’s number 7. Which is just down there at the end,” Nigel pointed out where the cabin was. she simply followed the employee who had been given the task of carrying her bags to the cabin.
Simon didn’t seem to be here yet, which was a relief. Or maybe he was already in a cabin, hopefully as far away from her as humanely possible.
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“This is it, ma’am,” the employee replied as he set down Paula’s bags, moving aside so Paula could open the door.
“I got them, you can go,” she replied handing the employee a tip. She paused her key half in the lock, half out as she heard a familiar voice mumbling inside the cabin.
She opened the door to see Simon carrying some skis up the stairs, “Thankfully I can bloody ski.”
“I don’t believe this,” Paula whispered shocked as she carried her bags into the cabin before shutting the door behind her; it was chilly outside.
“What are you doing here?” She lifts her gaze to see Simon coming down the stairs looking none to pleased to see her standing there.
“Apparently this is my cabin, what are you doing here?” she replies as she removes her coat, and places it on the coat rack.
“This is my bloody cabin! This isn’t happening!” Simon mumbles as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. Before he manages to push a button his phone lights up; he’s gotten a text message.
He reads it out: “Simon. You and Paula are going to be sharing the same cabin. You two need to learn to get along and this is a perfect way to do it. And before you ask no you cannot change rooms or leave early. Have fun.”
“Look Simon! I don’t like you, you don’t like me! This is just a week, I’m sure we can avoid killing each other. Ugh,” she let out a groan as she tried to pick up one of her cases.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he flew to her side. She didn’t respond. “For God sake! Just tell me? Is it your neck?” he whispered as she placed a hand on her neck. He’d heard all the stories explaining her health issues over the years.
“Yes,” she whispered, “Can you please get the pills from my handbag?” she asked softly as she lay herself down on the sofa.
“Here?” he whispered a couple of minutes later as he handed her the pills and a glass of water. She swallowed the water and pills mumbling a thank you as she closed her eyes. “Go to sleep darling,” he whispered covering her with a blanket before retreating to his room.
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“Si,” Paula whispered as she opened her eyes to find herself laying on the sofa with a blanket draped over her. She smiled when she remembered Simon bringing her some pills before covering her with a blanket. He must have taken her bags up to her room for her whilst she was sleeping.
“Hey,” Paula smiled as she saw Simon coming downstairs. He obviously just woken up; he was topless. She had to hide her face as she blushed. “You hungry? I made breakfast?”
“Yeah please,” he replied as he came over and sat at the breakfast table. “It smells delicious. What is it?” he enquired.
“It is what I believe you English would call a fry up? Anything specific you want on your plate?” she replied as she began cracking some eggs into the pan watching as the filled out and began to resemble eggs.
“Can I have my bacon soft? I’m not a fan of properly cooked bacon. Please?”
They both sat down to breakfast in relative silence; both had spent the night comfortably, there had been no arguments, no snide remarks. No, nothing and that was the problem. They were sitting here like they were comfortable with each other, like they knew and respected and liked one another; they didn’t.
“Did you take my bags up to my room?” she asked breaking the tension and the silence that had enveloped them.
“Yeah,” he replied after he’d swallowed some bacon. “This is good! Why do you ask?”
“I just wondered, that was all, Simon I want to apologise for what I said to you, about you father. I didn’t know about what had happened and then you were just needling me, and I snapped. I’m sorry.” Simon scoffs.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Especially not with you!” Simon replied coldly. “Thanks for breakfast,” he said before placing his fork back onto the table and excusing himself to his room.
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“You stalking me!” she snaps when they both emerge from their rooms half-an-hour later. Both wearing ski gear; Paula in pink and Simon in black.
“Don’t flatter yourself darling!” he said sarcastically pushing past her so he could stalk down the stairs. “I need some tea,” she heard him mumble as he went into the kitchen.
“You suck!” she screamed as she grabbed her gear and went out the door. Yes she knew screaming ‘You suck!’ was childish, but she was just so mad and it made her feel a little bit better. She knew Simon was an experienced skier, she was an ok skier just no where near as good as Simon. She placed her feet into her skis and set off.
She began to ski faster as she heard Simon’s voice behind her, calling for her to slow down and let him catch up to her, but she was just too mad to even contemplate it right now. So mad in fact that she didn’t notice a sign to her left saying; ‘Warning! Abandoned Mine!’ she only noticed the sign when she felt the ground disappear from beneath her feet as she suddenly began falling. She heard Simon’s scream as she fell hard to the cold, damp floor of the mine.
“PAULAAAAAAAAA!” he screamed as he neared the mine. He stepped out of his skis and kneeled down, peering over the edge. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when he saw her eyes were open and she was staring up at him.
“Simon,” she whimpered, so softly that he barley heard it.
“Darling! Are you ok?” he yelled down as he fished around for his phone. “Damn!” he screamed as he realised in his haste to catch up to Paula, he’d left his phone on the kitchen table. “Stay there, I’m coming down,” he shouted before standing to have a look around for some rope to tie around himself so he could get down safely.
“Paula! I’m coming!” he yelled as he found a piece of rope which seemed strong enough to support both of their weights. “I’m coming!” he yelled once he had the piece of room tied tightly around his waist. Despite the pain she was in, she watched him intently as he slowly scaled down the mine shaft to get to her. She screamed as she watched him fall, the snapped rope following him as he crashed down to the floor; unmoving.
“Simon! Simon!” she screamed as she crawled over to his still, unmoving, silent form. She gently moved their bodies so that his head was resting in her lap. ‘He tried to save me,’ she thought as the silence extended around them. As the silence became almost deafening, she heared a small groan as well movement coming from her lap.
“Simon,” she whispered as he began moving his head slowing rousing himself from unconsciousness into consciousness.
“Don’t move! Stay still,” she whispered as she stroked her fingers through his hair; trying to relax him as he slowly roused himself.
She moved them so they are both laying down on the floor; it is becoming uncomfortable to stay the way they were. This way with Simon close to her; his body heat mingling with hers is what they both need.
“It’s so cold,” she whispers through chattering teeth.
“We need to stay warm, we need to stay close if we have any hope of being found,” Simon said weakly as he linked their fingers; squeezing softly.
“Are we going to make love in order to keep warm?” Paula whispers softly as she turns her head to face Simon. Laughing slightly as she takes in his dumbfounded expression. “What?” she giggled, “I read somewhere that making love keeps you warm. Besides I was just joking -” she is silenced as Simon’s lips touch hers - they are kissing and she isn’t stopping it.
There lips remain touching as he pulls her on top of him so she is straddling his stomach. The heat rushes through them as their bodies become one.
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The cabin is silent; no sound can be heard until Randy and Ryan enter the cabin in search of their two missing colleagues. They’d all agreed to meet for dinner and discuss what they’d done today but as more and more time passed the seats reserved for Simon and Paula remained empty. Prompting one Ryan Seacrest accompanied by an equally worried Randy Jackson to set off for cabin number 7, in search of their missing colleagues.
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“Simon! Paula!” Ryan called as he and Randy enter cabin number 7. They knew something is up the second they enter because the place looked as if a fight had taken place; it is a mess. Breakfast is sitting half-eaten and cold on the table. “There’s no one here but only one bed has been slept in,” Ryan says a wicked smile upon his face, as he comes downstairs after searching the first floor of the cabin.
“Ryan their skis are missing and there are ski tracks leading away from the house. I think they went skiing or something?” Randy says worriedly.
“Don’t die Simon, please,” she hears herself whisper as curls into Simon, the silence deafening her as they lay there in the darkness of the empty, abandoned mine shaft. “Help!” she began to yell again; she knew this to be a vain attempt. She was convinced that no one was going to find them, that she and Simon were going to die down here forgotten by the world. “Help!” she yelled weakly; her voice and body slowly failing her. Soon she too would be laying unconscious like Simon. Slipping further and further into the dark place of death.
“Randy!” Ryan stopped in his tracks as he heard a sound. “Did you hear that?” Ryan grew frustrated as Randy shook his head, unable to hear what he’d heard. Then he heard it again, taking off as fast as his skis would take him in direction of the sound. “Help!” the sound became louder and clearer as they reached a set of trees, their gazes immediately being drawn to a huge hold in the ground. “Paula, Simon,” Ryan whispered happily as he spotted laying Paula and Simon curled in on one another.
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Six hours later Paula lay in her hospital room, waiting for the bed next to her to be filled. “He’ll be fine,” Ryan said cutting Paula out of her daydream and bringing her back to the real world. Simon had been diagnosed the onset of hypothermia. She too had been diagnosed with the onset of hypothermia, Simon’s was at a more advanced stage for some unknown reason. She’d also been given pain medication for her neck.
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“How is he? Is he going to be ok?” she bombarded the nurse with questions as the door opened and they wheeled an unconscious Simon into the room. She swallowed a sob as she saw them hooking Simon up to several I.V drips as well as bundling him in several blankets to keep him warm. “I asked you a question!” she snapped at the nurse; her voice stern and unforgiving. “Is he going to be ok? Answer me!” she knew she was being unreasonable, none of this was the nurses fault. She simply had the misfortune of being the nurse who had to set Simon up in his new room.
“He’s going to be fine ma’am. You both are going to need to take it easy for a while,” the nurse replied politely before excusing herself.
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She awoke from her peaceful slumber to hear Simon mumbling loudly in his sleep; he was having a nightmare. “Simon,” she whispered leaning over to nudge his elbow as his nightmare continued to progress.
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Today was the day she would once again be face to face with Simon Cowell; someone she desperately didn’t want to see. He’d woken in the hospital angry, he’d yelled and screamed at her until the nurses had sedated him, and she herself had been in tears. He’d been way too angry and irrational for her to talk to him, he didn’t want to listen. So Paula had arranged for herself to move rooms and they’d not exchanged so much as a sound between them since then.
She felt this deep connection to him after all that they’d been through in the mine. This was something she knew to be true but something she wouldn’t admit even to herself; she’d fallen in love with him and his reaction in the hospital had broken her heart.
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In the room they were conducting auditions the air-conditioning system had broken meaning that the room was unbearably hot, but there were no other rooms available for them to conduct judging; they were stuck. She was beginning to feel dizzy and slightly nauseas, which didn’t help. This was just adding to her feelings of guilt, anger and feelings of being genuinely uncomfortable. Her and Simon hadn’t spoken a word to each other since they’d been reunited; the tension was palpable.
She stood the second the last audition before lunch had ended. She must have stood too quickly, because her feelings of dizziness seemed to intensify causing her to stumble backwards into the ready arms of him, he caught her as she fell.
She could hear voices around her, she knew she was in someone’s arms. She just couldn’t open her eyes; the effort too great for her small and tired body.
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She sat on the sofa in her dressing room and stared. Not wanting to accept what was set out in front of her as plain as day. She just couldn’t accept this; she was pregnant and the baby was his. Her child was to be fathered by man who loathed her with every fibre of his being; he hated her and together they were going to share a child.
A chill ran down her spine as she heard the door to her dressing room open, and his voice filling the unsteady, uneasy silence. “Your pregnant and I’m guessing that I am the father?”
“Maybe you learned it all from him!” she replied watching the part of the tape over and over again, as she sat at home watching the episode of Idol from the night before. Things between her and Simon had gotten even worse, they were slowly but surely escalating to a point of no return. She didn’t hate Simon; he just made her so mad, they had known each other for a short time and he was already under her skin more than any person she’d ever known.
She hadn’t meant to say what she’d said on live television. She really hadn’t, but he’d just been getting under skin so much more than usual and she’d snapped. She’d known something was up the second she’d said it; Simon become very silent and subdued, only speaking when asked too and even then he spoke very little. The second they went off air Simon had rushed off, not allowing her to speak to him; to find out why her comment had upset him so much. She was just about to leave her dressing room when someone knocked on her door.
“Come in,” she called.
Moments later Randy and Ryan entered with solemn facial expressions.
“What?” she asked as they closed the door behind them and asked if they could take a seat on her sofa.
“There’s something you should know about Simon, something which will explain a lot of things,” Ryan replied in a solemn manner.
“Go on,” she replied as she turned her make up chair to face them before taking a seat; mentally preparing her body for what was to come.
“Simon’s dad… he uh, died a few years back-”
“Oh God,” Paula whispered as she buried her face in her hands.
“He and Simon were quite close, his dad was like his best friend, someone who Simon looked up to and when he died. Something inside Simon sort of died too. So when you said what you said tonight, all of which Simon thought was healed became broken again. He’s never gotten over the loss of his dad,” Ryan replied.
“We thought you should know,” Randy whispered before he and Ryan excused themselves from her dressing room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
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“Ryan!” she cornered in Ryan in the parking lot as he was about to get into his car.
“Yeah,” he replied as he unlocked his car, placing his things inside.
“Do you have Simon’s address, I really want to go and apologise, please?” she pleaded when she saw the questioning look on Ryan’s face. “I won’t tell him you gave it to me, if that’s what your worried about.”
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She sat outside of Simon’s rented mansion, it was a beautiful house. She knew someone was home because there seemed to be a bedroom light on. She glanced down at the code to the house written on a bit of paper. She knew he wouldn’t let her in, so she’d also begged Ryan for the code. Reluctantly he given it to her and now here she was.
Her hand was shaking as she keyed in the code, opening the gates so she could drive her car into the safety of Simon’s gates. She sat in her car for what seemed like an eternity before she mustered up the courage to at the very least get out of her car and make her way to the front door.
She used the key Ryan had given her to open the front door. She gasped as she took in the beautiful home she was stood in. “Focus!” she quietly scolded herself as she began to look around for Simon. “He’s not downstairs,” she mused as she began to climb the elaborate spiral staircase to the first floor.
She searched every room she passed and there was still no sign of him. That is until she heard a faint sound coming from behind a closed door. She opened the door a crack to see Simon sitting on the bed with his back to her staring at a photo.
“Dad, I miss you so much,” she heard him whisper brokenly. “I need you to help me with this pain, please,” he whispered before moving back onto the bed and curling into a ball.
“I’m so, sorry Simon,” she whispered as she rushed to the bed and spooned behind him. Wrapping her arms tightly around him as he unexpectedly turned in her arms resting his head on her chest, where he broke down sobbing. “I’m so, sorry Simon,” she whispered after he’d fallen asleep in her arms; his exhaustion claiming him.
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No one knew what had transpired between Simon and Paula at his home not even Ryan. They did know that things between Simon and Paula couldn’t continue this way; snapping at one another, at every given opportunity. Now that Idol had finished for this season and Fox had renewed the show; Randy, Ryan, Ken and Nigel had come up with an idea to try and change the relationship between the ‘Star-Crossed Lovers’.
So with a trip organised and paid for by Fox the Idol group: Ryan, Randy, Ken, Nigel, Paula and Simon were to spend a week at a ski resort of Big Bear in southern California, where it had begun snowing early that year. It was non-negotiable; they were going skiing. Ken and Nigel stood at the head of the table as Randy and Ryan sat opposite two very angered people known as Simon Cowell and Paula Abdul.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Simon raged as he stood up from his chair.
“This is some joke right?” Paula asked as Simon began pacing around the room, like a caged animal.
“I’m afraid not, Paula,” Ken replied. “We all as a group need to have some bonding time-”
“Bonding time!” Simon yelled interrupting Ken, “Don’t fucking patronise me! I’m not going! I’m going to go now and get breastfed by my DEAD father!” Simon snapped before leaving the room.
“I’ll go,” Ryan replied as he ran after Simon, shooting Paula a look before he left.
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“Randy, I don’t think, I can do this,” she whispered as her and Randy neared Big Bear. “I can’t be around him, like this. I just can’t.” she smiled when Randy took her hand in his, whispering to her that everything would be fine.
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“Paula this is the key to your cabin, it’s number 7. Which is just down there at the end,” Nigel pointed out where the cabin was. she simply followed the employee who had been given the task of carrying her bags to the cabin.
Simon didn’t seem to be here yet, which was a relief. Or maybe he was already in a cabin, hopefully as far away from her as humanely possible.
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“This is it, ma’am,” the employee replied as he set down Paula’s bags, moving aside so Paula could open the door.
“I got them, you can go,” she replied handing the employee a tip. She paused her key half in the lock, half out as she heard a familiar voice mumbling inside the cabin.
She opened the door to see Simon carrying some skis up the stairs, “Thankfully I can bloody ski.”
“I don’t believe this,” Paula whispered shocked as she carried her bags into the cabin before shutting the door behind her; it was chilly outside.
“What are you doing here?” She lifts her gaze to see Simon coming down the stairs looking none to pleased to see her standing there.
“Apparently this is my cabin, what are you doing here?” she replies as she removes her coat, and places it on the coat rack.
“This is my bloody cabin! This isn’t happening!” Simon mumbles as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. Before he manages to push a button his phone lights up; he’s gotten a text message.
He reads it out: “Simon. You and Paula are going to be sharing the same cabin. You two need to learn to get along and this is a perfect way to do it. And before you ask no you cannot change rooms or leave early. Have fun.”
“Look Simon! I don’t like you, you don’t like me! This is just a week, I’m sure we can avoid killing each other. Ugh,” she let out a groan as she tried to pick up one of her cases.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he flew to her side. She didn’t respond. “For God sake! Just tell me? Is it your neck?” he whispered as she placed a hand on her neck. He’d heard all the stories explaining her health issues over the years.
“Yes,” she whispered, “Can you please get the pills from my handbag?” she asked softly as she lay herself down on the sofa.
“Here?” he whispered a couple of minutes later as he handed her the pills and a glass of water. She swallowed the water and pills mumbling a thank you as she closed her eyes. “Go to sleep darling,” he whispered covering her with a blanket before retreating to his room.
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“Si,” Paula whispered as she opened her eyes to find herself laying on the sofa with a blanket draped over her. She smiled when she remembered Simon bringing her some pills before covering her with a blanket. He must have taken her bags up to her room for her whilst she was sleeping.
“Hey,” Paula smiled as she saw Simon coming downstairs. He obviously just woken up; he was topless. She had to hide her face as she blushed. “You hungry? I made breakfast?”
“Yeah please,” he replied as he came over and sat at the breakfast table. “It smells delicious. What is it?” he enquired.
“It is what I believe you English would call a fry up? Anything specific you want on your plate?” she replied as she began cracking some eggs into the pan watching as the filled out and began to resemble eggs.
“Can I have my bacon soft? I’m not a fan of properly cooked bacon. Please?”
They both sat down to breakfast in relative silence; both had spent the night comfortably, there had been no arguments, no snide remarks. No, nothing and that was the problem. They were sitting here like they were comfortable with each other, like they knew and respected and liked one another; they didn’t.
“Did you take my bags up to my room?” she asked breaking the tension and the silence that had enveloped them.
“Yeah,” he replied after he’d swallowed some bacon. “This is good! Why do you ask?”
“I just wondered, that was all, Simon I want to apologise for what I said to you, about you father. I didn’t know about what had happened and then you were just needling me, and I snapped. I’m sorry.” Simon scoffs.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Especially not with you!” Simon replied coldly. “Thanks for breakfast,” he said before placing his fork back onto the table and excusing himself to his room.
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“You stalking me!” she snaps when they both emerge from their rooms half-an-hour later. Both wearing ski gear; Paula in pink and Simon in black.
“Don’t flatter yourself darling!” he said sarcastically pushing past her so he could stalk down the stairs. “I need some tea,” she heard him mumble as he went into the kitchen.
“You suck!” she screamed as she grabbed her gear and went out the door. Yes she knew screaming ‘You suck!’ was childish, but she was just so mad and it made her feel a little bit better. She knew Simon was an experienced skier, she was an ok skier just no where near as good as Simon. She placed her feet into her skis and set off.
She began to ski faster as she heard Simon’s voice behind her, calling for her to slow down and let him catch up to her, but she was just too mad to even contemplate it right now. So mad in fact that she didn’t notice a sign to her left saying; ‘Warning! Abandoned Mine!’ she only noticed the sign when she felt the ground disappear from beneath her feet as she suddenly began falling. She heard Simon’s scream as she fell hard to the cold, damp floor of the mine.
“PAULAAAAAAAAA!” he screamed as he neared the mine. He stepped out of his skis and kneeled down, peering over the edge. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when he saw her eyes were open and she was staring up at him.
“Simon,” she whimpered, so softly that he barley heard it.
“Darling! Are you ok?” he yelled down as he fished around for his phone. “Damn!” he screamed as he realised in his haste to catch up to Paula, he’d left his phone on the kitchen table. “Stay there, I’m coming down,” he shouted before standing to have a look around for some rope to tie around himself so he could get down safely.
“Paula! I’m coming!” he yelled as he found a piece of rope which seemed strong enough to support both of their weights. “I’m coming!” he yelled once he had the piece of room tied tightly around his waist. Despite the pain she was in, she watched him intently as he slowly scaled down the mine shaft to get to her. She screamed as she watched him fall, the snapped rope following him as he crashed down to the floor; unmoving.
“Simon! Simon!” she screamed as she crawled over to his still, unmoving, silent form. She gently moved their bodies so that his head was resting in her lap. ‘He tried to save me,’ she thought as the silence extended around them. As the silence became almost deafening, she heared a small groan as well movement coming from her lap.
“Simon,” she whispered as he began moving his head slowing rousing himself from unconsciousness into consciousness.
“Don’t move! Stay still,” she whispered as she stroked her fingers through his hair; trying to relax him as he slowly roused himself.
She moved them so they are both laying down on the floor; it is becoming uncomfortable to stay the way they were. This way with Simon close to her; his body heat mingling with hers is what they both need.
“It’s so cold,” she whispers through chattering teeth.
“We need to stay warm, we need to stay close if we have any hope of being found,” Simon said weakly as he linked their fingers; squeezing softly.
“Are we going to make love in order to keep warm?” Paula whispers softly as she turns her head to face Simon. Laughing slightly as she takes in his dumbfounded expression. “What?” she giggled, “I read somewhere that making love keeps you warm. Besides I was just joking -” she is silenced as Simon’s lips touch hers - they are kissing and she isn’t stopping it.
There lips remain touching as he pulls her on top of him so she is straddling his stomach. The heat rushes through them as their bodies become one.
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The cabin is silent; no sound can be heard until Randy and Ryan enter the cabin in search of their two missing colleagues. They’d all agreed to meet for dinner and discuss what they’d done today but as more and more time passed the seats reserved for Simon and Paula remained empty. Prompting one Ryan Seacrest accompanied by an equally worried Randy Jackson to set off for cabin number 7, in search of their missing colleagues.
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“Simon! Paula!” Ryan called as he and Randy enter cabin number 7. They knew something is up the second they enter because the place looked as if a fight had taken place; it is a mess. Breakfast is sitting half-eaten and cold on the table. “There’s no one here but only one bed has been slept in,” Ryan says a wicked smile upon his face, as he comes downstairs after searching the first floor of the cabin.
“Ryan their skis are missing and there are ski tracks leading away from the house. I think they went skiing or something?” Randy says worriedly.
“Don’t die Simon, please,” she hears herself whisper as curls into Simon, the silence deafening her as they lay there in the darkness of the empty, abandoned mine shaft. “Help!” she began to yell again; she knew this to be a vain attempt. She was convinced that no one was going to find them, that she and Simon were going to die down here forgotten by the world. “Help!” she yelled weakly; her voice and body slowly failing her. Soon she too would be laying unconscious like Simon. Slipping further and further into the dark place of death.
“Randy!” Ryan stopped in his tracks as he heard a sound. “Did you hear that?” Ryan grew frustrated as Randy shook his head, unable to hear what he’d heard. Then he heard it again, taking off as fast as his skis would take him in direction of the sound. “Help!” the sound became louder and clearer as they reached a set of trees, their gazes immediately being drawn to a huge hold in the ground. “Paula, Simon,” Ryan whispered happily as he spotted laying Paula and Simon curled in on one another.
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Six hours later Paula lay in her hospital room, waiting for the bed next to her to be filled. “He’ll be fine,” Ryan said cutting Paula out of her daydream and bringing her back to the real world. Simon had been diagnosed the onset of hypothermia. She too had been diagnosed with the onset of hypothermia, Simon’s was at a more advanced stage for some unknown reason. She’d also been given pain medication for her neck.
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“How is he? Is he going to be ok?” she bombarded the nurse with questions as the door opened and they wheeled an unconscious Simon into the room. She swallowed a sob as she saw them hooking Simon up to several I.V drips as well as bundling him in several blankets to keep him warm. “I asked you a question!” she snapped at the nurse; her voice stern and unforgiving. “Is he going to be ok? Answer me!” she knew she was being unreasonable, none of this was the nurses fault. She simply had the misfortune of being the nurse who had to set Simon up in his new room.
“He’s going to be fine ma’am. You both are going to need to take it easy for a while,” the nurse replied politely before excusing herself.
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She awoke from her peaceful slumber to hear Simon mumbling loudly in his sleep; he was having a nightmare. “Simon,” she whispered leaning over to nudge his elbow as his nightmare continued to progress.
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Today was the day she would once again be face to face with Simon Cowell; someone she desperately didn’t want to see. He’d woken in the hospital angry, he’d yelled and screamed at her until the nurses had sedated him, and she herself had been in tears. He’d been way too angry and irrational for her to talk to him, he didn’t want to listen. So Paula had arranged for herself to move rooms and they’d not exchanged so much as a sound between them since then.
She felt this deep connection to him after all that they’d been through in the mine. This was something she knew to be true but something she wouldn’t admit even to herself; she’d fallen in love with him and his reaction in the hospital had broken her heart.
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In the room they were conducting auditions the air-conditioning system had broken meaning that the room was unbearably hot, but there were no other rooms available for them to conduct judging; they were stuck. She was beginning to feel dizzy and slightly nauseas, which didn’t help. This was just adding to her feelings of guilt, anger and feelings of being genuinely uncomfortable. Her and Simon hadn’t spoken a word to each other since they’d been reunited; the tension was palpable.
She stood the second the last audition before lunch had ended. She must have stood too quickly, because her feelings of dizziness seemed to intensify causing her to stumble backwards into the ready arms of him, he caught her as she fell.
She could hear voices around her, she knew she was in someone’s arms. She just couldn’t open her eyes; the effort too great for her small and tired body.
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She sat on the sofa in her dressing room and stared. Not wanting to accept what was set out in front of her as plain as day. She just couldn’t accept this; she was pregnant and the baby was his. Her child was to be fathered by man who loathed her with every fibre of his being; he hated her and together they were going to share a child.
A chill ran down her spine as she heard the door to her dressing room open, and his voice filling the unsteady, uneasy silence. “Your pregnant and I’m guessing that I am the father?”
Seven Minutes
Seven Minutes. She’d never played Seven Minutes in Heaven until now.
The year is 1980. They are in London; her and few friends on a short holiday away from all the stress of work and family; a few days where they can party and just generally let their hair down, and have a good time.
It was recently her eighteenth birthday and because she is in England, she can legally drink alcohol. So for her birthday her friends had heard about this club in London where anyone whose anyone was going . So of course they were going and she didn’t have a choice in the matter.
She had to admit as they walked down by the Thames River; admiring the Thames Bridge on their way to this club, that she was pretty excited to be able to let her hair down and party, despite her earlier protests at not wanting to go.
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She felt as if she was in heaven as the base pumped loudly and rhythmically around her; she was dancing and she was in heaven. She moved her body in time with the music as she felt herself getting lost; this club was a good idea she mused as she began to increase her moves in time with music.
She could hear someone shouting what sounded like her name, but she was having way to much fun dancing to the music. She screamed when she felt someone’s hand on her shoulder, she turned to see her sister staring at her. “Paula, we’re going to this party with some guys over there.” she felt herself lost for words when she spotted who her friend was pointing too; her sights set firmly on a guy on the end.
“Let’s go,” she smiled as she took hold of her friends hand and they walked in the direction of the exit, the guys and the rest of their friends following. She began to feel slightly nervous as they turned onto a London street filled with rather nice, elegant London homes. She could hear music coming from a house further down the street; must be their destination she’d mused as they carried on to this house.
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“Ok here’s the deal!” a guy yelled after some time had passed; everyone had congregated by a cupboard, those who hadn’t were either passed out or too busy dancing. She herself would have rather been dancing but her sister had dragged her to the cupboard, insisting that she join in. “We are going to play ‘Seven Minutes of Heaven!’ in this cupboard!” the guy pointed to the cupboard.
“Oh no,” she whispered as she watched two people enter the cupboard, and after exactly seven minutes had passed they emerged looking pretty please with themselves. She whimpered in protest as she felt her sister and a few others pushing her towards the cupboard. “WENDY!” She yelled as she felt herself being pushed inside the cupboard. “Might as well have some fun with this,” she mused as she heard someone entering the cupboard with her.
“I’m sorry they are making us do this,” he replied quietly; his posh British accent sending chills down her spine as she spoke. She would definitely remember that voice.
“I’m not,” she replied; her anger long forgotten as she moved closer to his voice. “This may be the only time, I get to let my hair down and not think about the consequences of my actions,” she replied confidently as her lips found his; coming together in a flurry of passion and heat.
She moaned softly as she felt herself being backed up against a wall, his lips leaving hers so he could move to her neck. His skilled lips; his strong tongue tasting and mapping her neck as his hands pulled their waists close together. Allowing her to feel his arousal pressed up against her; hot and hard.
“Come on, harder! Only seven minutes!” she hissed into his ear. She moaned loudly as he responded by pushing up her dress and unzipping his jeans before he quickly moved her thong aside so he could thrust into her. “Ahhh,” she sighed as he began to move roughly inside of her; rough just how she liked it, once she’d gotten over the pain of a man being inside of her for the first time.
Her pleasure seemed to intensify as her shoulders were pushed painfully against the wall with each powerful thrust of his hips. He groaned loudly, increasing the speed and intensity of his thrusts as she dug her nails into his ass; egging him on.
“Fuck,” he growled as she felt him pushing closer against her as he came; his orgasm sending her over the edge into a place of ecstasy before they both came down from their high.
He kissed her softly in the darkness; their clothes just so as the door opened, and they were pulled back out by their friends who were hooting and hollering in celebration. They never managed to get a look of each other; they were dragged in different directions by their friends who tried to find out what happened in their. Both simply replied: “Seven minutes of heaven!”
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She groaned loudly as she once again leaned back on her heels; sighing as she for another morning reached for a cloth to wipe her mouth. As she’d once again awoken with the urge to empty her stomach. She couldn’t understand what was wrong with her; she really, really couldn’t.
The past few days were all just normal, everyday, days yet her morning routine started with her leaning over the toilet. She didn’t feel ill; she felt perfectly fine, so this whole throwing up situation was one of total confusion.
Maybe she was just simply dancing to hard. That had to be it. There just couldn’t simply be any other explanation for her feeling the way she was each and every morning; there just couldn’t be. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of any other possibilities. She just wouldn’t.
“Aw honey,” her sister sighed as she entered the bathroom to spot Paula once again on her knees in front of the toilet. “You throwing up again? I think you need to go and see the doctor?”
“No. I’ll be fine,” she replied staggering a bit as she stood. “I’m fine! End of the conversation!” she snapped before leaving the room, to begin dancing as she did every morning.
“Stupid, stupid people telling me what I should and shouldn’t do!” she muttered as she grabbed her keys, before heading out to her car. “Off to dance!” she called out to Wendy who was stood in the door way, before she sped off into the distance.
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“Where am I?” she whispered as she opened her eyes to see herself in an unfamiliar room; her sister, mother and someone she assumed to be a doctor staring over her.
“Honey, you uh… fainted at dance and hit your head. They called an ambulance and you were brought here. This is Dr. Marshall,” her mother said as she pointed to the unfamiliar woman.
“How do you feel Paula?” Dr. Marshall asked as she picked up and looked at the chart, which had been attached to Paula’s bed.
“I feel fantastic,” she lied, wincing as she touched the sore spot on her forehead. “Can I go now?”
“Liar!” Wendy snapped before turning to face the doctor. “She’s been throwing up every morning, and this morning after she’d thrown up she staggered as she stood.”
“Wendy!” she pouted like a defiant child who’d just been caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.
“Is this true?” her mother whispered in shock; Paula nodded.
“She’s also been eating irregularly because of her vomiting!” Wendy chimed in.
“Well,” the doctor replied as she set the chart back in its place. “We are going to need to run a few tests, and take some of your blood. I’ll be back shortly.”
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“Come in!” she called as she heard a knock on her door. At her permission the door opened and Dr. Marshall entered carrying a clip board with her test results on.
“I have the results of your tests. Do you want your family here or do you want privacy?” she enquired.
“They can stay,” she replied a little uneasily; she was scared. What was he going to tell her. Did she have some kind of killer disease or something. What was it?
“Ok. Well according to the results of your blood test, you are pregnant. We are going to need to do a ultrasound, to determine how far along you are. I’m just going to go and get the ultrasound room ready. I’ll be back shortly,” Dr. Marshall replied before leaving three very shocked Abdul woman behind.
“This is all your fault!” she screamed at Wendy, once the door had closed.
“My fault!” Wendy yelled in horror. “How is this my fault?”
“You dragged me to that stupid party!! You made me play that stupid game in the cupboard!” she accused.
“You didn’t have to do anything! No one would have known!” Wendy retorted. “You had sex didn’t you!”
“Of course I bloody did! I’m pregnant aren’t I? Babies aren’t made by magical baby-making fairies!” she screamed before curling herself into a ball where she began to sob.
“Honey,” her mother began.
“Just leave me alone!” Paula screamed through her sobs. “Both of you!”
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“Oh, God, what am I going to do?” she whispered, placing her hands on stomach as her mother and sister left the room.
“I told you to leave me alone!” she screamed turning to face the door, as she heard It opening. “Sorry,” she whispered as she saw Dr. Marshall entering the room.
“You want to come meet your baby?” she smiled sweetly as she closed the door behind her.
“Yeah,” Paula whispered as she accepted the tissues handed to her by Dr. Marshall; she wiped her eyes before climbing off the bed. “Let’s go see my baby.”
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“So I am fifteen weeks pregnant, almost sixteen weeks.. I’m in my second trimester. How did I not pick it up this late?” Paula said as the three of them got into the car; her mother reversing slowly out of the car park.
“You’ve had a lot on,” Wendy said reassuringly from the front passenger seat. “Your always dancing, you never stop. I’m not surprised, that you never noticed symptoms until now.”
“Thanks,” she replied. “I guess, I’m going to become a mom. I wonder if my baby will sound British,” she whispered as she let out a shaky laugh.
“Bloody hell darling!” Wendy replied in a really bad British accent. Causing Paula to begin laughing hysterically; tears rolling down her cheeks, as she held her stomach; the laughter turned to sobs as she felt the small bump beneath her hand. She was going to be a mother. In just under six months, she would be a mother.
As their mother pulled over and stopped the car, Wendy clambered into the back and wrapped her arms around her little sister. Hugging her tightly as she sobbed. “Oh!” she gasped, her hands flying to her stomach. “I felt something,” she whispered as she placed her sisters hand on her stomach. “My baby, it moved!” her tears once again changing to tears of joy.
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“Come on honey! Push!” Wendy said encouragingly as her sister let out a groan of defeat, her head falling back against the bed. “Push!”
“I can’t push anymore,” she sobbed as she clutched her sisters hand tightly. “It hurts too much. I can’t push anymore.”
“You can Paula! You can!” Dr. Marshall spoke encouragingly. “Here, give me your hand. Do you feel that? That’s your baby!”
“My baby,” she whispered joyfully. “Ahhhh!” she screamed as she bore down for the final time; her baby exiting her body soon after.
“It’s a boy!” Wendy whispered to her as her nephew took his first breathes; screaming loudly. “He’s so beautiful.”
“He’s my boy,” she whispered her heart breaking a little as she remembered her son’s father; he would never, ever know he had a son. Their son would remain fatherless his whole life. “Wendy, say hello to Eric Matthew Abdul,” she said smiling as watched her son being wrapped up in a blue blanket by Dr. Marshall. Who then promptly turned to Paula, walking the short distance across the room to place him in his mothers arms.
“Hey baby!” she beamed proudly little Eric wrapped his small hand around her finger.
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She smiled warmly as she checked on her son before she herself headed to bed. She laughed softly as she saw her two-year old son clutching his favourite teddy; a blue dog known as Wonderdog.
Her father and sister had just recently returned from a trip to London. They’d returned with several gifts for little Eric; a teddy-bear, a new bed set and pyjamas all affiliated with a blue dog aka Wonderdog. Who apparently was a new phenomenon to hit the UK.
As soon as Eric had clapped eyes on his new gifts, he became obsessed with Wonderdog; refusing to part with his teddy. The video he’d been given of Wonderdog was used to put him to sleep at night.
“I love you my beautiful boy,” she whispered. Placing a kiss on his sleeping forehead as she tucked him into bed, before turning the lights and television off. “So beautiful,” she whispered as she headed into her bedroom across the hall.
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As the years passed, and Eric grew older. She noticed how honest her son was, he was very stubborn and direct. He wasn’t afraid of saying what he felt; when he’d seen her ‘Coldhearted’ video, he replied: “What a hot momma, I’ve got!” Quite a response from an eight-year old.
Eric was a very confident child, often he spoke his mind regardless of what the consequences were. Those who met him assumed he was a very cruel, arrogant and chauvinistic child. But those who knew him, knew this was just a front; the real Eric Abdul was loving, kind, trustworthy who always stuck up for and defended those who mattered to him.
Eric was taller than his mother - he wasn’t the tallest boy around though. He had black hair, his skin was a lot paler than his mothers. He also had ice blue eyes; all of these qualities made him a huge hit with the ladies.
These qualities had almost earned him a short stint in Juvenile detention. He’d come home from camp early to find Brad holding his mother up against the wall by the scruff of her neck; her nose bleeding, the blood mingling with her tears. Eric had flown across the room picking up a vase as he crossed, he’d smashed this vase across Brad’s head; knocking him out cold.
This gave Paula the courage to finally leave Brad; Eric made her explain to him what had happened. He and Brad reached an agreement; Brad wouldn’t report Eric to the police for GBH and Eric wouldn’t report Brad for domestic violence. On her divorce papers and what she’d told the world, their marriage ended because of irreconcilable differences.
They were celebrating Eric’s 21st birthday when she received a phone call from her manager saying some man named Simon Fuller was interested in getting her on his new show ‘American Idol’, asking if she would be interested in coming to a meeting to discuss this.
She said yes almost immediately. She hadn’t held down a decent job In years - not that it mattered. She had enough money, so she didn’t have to work again if she didn’t want to. She’d fallen in love with the idea as soon as Simon Fuller began explaining it to her. She’d laughed when he’d warned of a man named Simon Cowell - saying he was a womanizer, who loved nothing more than a beautiful woman. She hadn’t felt like a beautiful woman in years -well not since that night; the night their baby had been conceived.
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“I’m so nervous!” she squealed as she rushed into the kitchen; searching for her other gold hoop earring. “Where is it!” she squeaked, knocking over the jam jar as she passed the table.
“MOM!” Eric’s loud voice cut through her day dream, bringing her back down to earth as she stood still; watching him with shock written all over her face. “Your going to be fine. So stop worrying about!” he said reassuringly as he wrapped his arms around her; hugging her tightly to him.
“Thanks darling,” she said, squeezing his cheeks lightly before grabbing, her bag which contained her keys, phone and most importantly her earring. “I should be back by dinner!” she called as she rushed out of the house.
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“So sorry I’m late!” she squealed as she entered the meeting room to see everyone’s eyes were on her. “My car started acting funny. Carry on,” she said nervously as she took a seat next to a man she recognised to be Randy Jackson.
The meeting continued quickly after. Her attention was focused more on a guy sat opposite her, rather than on the actual meeting. He seemed so familiar; she didn’t know what it was about him though. She quickly snapped herself out of her trance when he winked at her - this man was Simon Cowell, the womanizer that Simon Fuller had told her about. She blushed despite herself.
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“Paula?” The meeting had finished. She turned her head to see Simon Fuller standing with Randy, Simon and some blonde guy. “Come here a second will you.”
“Yes?” she enquired once she reached the group - everyone else had left, so it was only them left in the room.
“Seeing as you were a little bit late, you missed introductions. This is Randy Jackson. Who I’m told you already know. Ryan Seacrest - he’s going to be the co-host and finally this is Simon Cowell, our resident ‘Mr Nasty’” Simon Fuller replied as he pointed each man out by name.
“Baby girl! Been a while!” Randy smiled happily as Paula rushed into his arms; hugging him tightly.
“I know!” she beamed as he released her. “It’s been way too long! How are you?”
“I’m really, really good. Looking forward to getting on the road and seeing the kids; seeing what they can do. Not looking forward to being away from the family, how about you?”
“Eric’s just come back from travelling. I too am looking forward to seeing what the kids can do, I missed him so much and now I have to leave him for two months,” her voice trembled a bit as she spoke the words. “I’ll be fine,” she a few moments later.
“Hi I’m Paula,” she said extending her hand to the Englishmen.
“Simon. Simon Cowell,” he replied, accepting her hand. She felt as if the breathe had been knocked out of her body as he spoke - he was the guy she slept with during her ill-fated trip to London all those years ago. Simon Cowell was the father of her son Eric Matthew Abdul.
“Pleasure,” she replied through gritted teeth. After all these years he was standing in front of her, and he had no idea who she was. No idea that across town was the son he never knew he had. It should have shocked her that he had no idea who she was but it didn’t. Everything Simon Fuller had told her about him was true - he was a womanizer. So he’d probably slept with so many woman, he’d never remember them all.
“Excuse me. I need to go home now and see my son,” she replied shooting Simon a look of annoyance, before leaving him and Randy standing there shocked, at her reaction.
“I’ve only just met her and already she doesn’t like me. Wow that’s a new record!” Simon joked as Randy clapped him on the back. He liked Randy already; he and Randy were going to get on famously.
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“Hey! Don’t break my door!” Wendy said as she opened the door to reveal Paula almost breaking down, as she pounded on her sisters door. “What’s wrong?” she asked as Paula walked past her and into the living room.
“I found him,” Paula whispered as she and Wendy sat down on the sofa, facing one another. “I…” she started before her tears came. She quickly stood so that she could pace around the room - trying to calm herself down from the state she was in. “After twenty-one years - almost twenty-two years pass. I’ve finally found him.”
“Who?” Wendy asked, confused.
“Eric’s father!” Paula screamed frustratingly. “I found him! The guy who knocked me up!”
“How did you do that? I thought you didn’t know who he was?”
“I didn’t. I’ve never forgotten his voice. I’d remember it anywhere and today for the first time in almost twenty-two years, I heard his voice. I’m going to be sitting next to this guy for six months, and he doesn’t even remember who I am!”
“Who is he?” Wendy enquired.
“The British judge Simon Cowell. The judge from Pop Idol. The one who is known as ‘Mr Nasty’,” she cried. “You know what the funniest thing is? He looked right at me and winked. He doesn’t remember me at all!”
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“Who is that?” she said aloud to herself as she pulled into her driveway to see an unfamiliar black Mercedes parked next Eric’s car. Once she’d parked her car, and gathered her stuff she walked around the black car trying to decipher who it belonged too - nothing gave the owners identity away.
“Eric!” she called from the hallway as she set her bag down on the table.
“We’re in here!” he called back from the living room. She could hear a football game playing.
She entered the living room to see Eric and Simon sitting together on the sofa watching the football game. Despite the fact that she was shocked and frozen to the place that she stood, she smiled when she saw how confused Simon was when Eric would start shouting at the television screen. Eric would then try to explain to Simon what was happening on the screen; it didn’t seem to help. Simon’s confused expression seemed to increase.
“Excuse me!” she said loudly. “What are you doing here in my house?” she accused, her gaze somewhat narrowed as it focused on Simon. She nearly ceased breathing as she saw how alike Simon and Eric were; they were literally the spitting image of one another. The same hair colour and style. The same build, height and weight. Everything about them was identical even down to the shape of their ears and noses.
“Well,” he began as he clapped Eric on the back, before he stood to walk over to Paula. “I don’t know you, you don’t know me. If looks could kill I’d be dead, after the look you gave me before. I came over because I wanted to know what your problem with me is.”
“I don’t… I don’t have a problem,” she stuttered as she walked away from them, into the kitchen.
“Mom you quite clearly do,” Eric said as he and Simon followed her into the kitchen.
She turned around to see Eric and Simon standing by the kitchen table. She nearly ceased breathing as she saw how alike Simon and Eric were; they were literally the spitting image of one another. The same hair colour and style. The same build, height and weight. Everything about them was identical even down to the shape of their ears and noses.
Simon was holding Thumbelina in his arms, as Thumbelina was bombarded him with yelps and kisses. “Hello darling,” he cooed as he moved a chair from the table so that he could sit with Thumbelina on his lap. “She’s such a beautiful dog.”
“Seriously what have i done to offend you?” Simon asked as he watched Thumbelina flake out on his lap - it was a hot, humid day.
“It’s what you didn’t do,” she whispered quietly, as she turned to the sink.
“I’m sorry, but you are going to have to be more specific. What have I done?” he pleaded one more time.
“Eric honey sit down,” she whispered as she covered her face with her hands.
“Why?”
“Just sit!” she yelled quickly.
Only once Eric had sat down at the table on the opposite side to Simon, did she reveal her face; the distress evident on her features - like she had some big secret to reveal.
“I have something to tell you both. Something which I only just discovered,” she began.
“Go on,” Simon whispered to her as she paused for too long. He quietly set Thumbelina down on the floor.
“Simon have you ever played ‘Seven Minutes of Heaven?’” she asked looking straight at him.
“I’m not sure,” he replied a confused look on his face. After a few moments his eyes lit up with recollection. “Yeah once, about twenty years ago.”
“Twenty-two actually,” she replied as she looked over at Eric, who was staring at her expectedly.
“How the hell would you know?” he accused.
“Because… because I was the girl you fooled around with!” She screamed back at him; watching as the expressions of both Simon and Eric become one of nothing but pure shock. “And I ended up knocked up because of you!” she screamed before walking out into the back garden.
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“What did you just say!” She heard Simon croak from behind her as the door flew open. She could hear two sets of footsteps behind her as she stood staring down at the pool watching the water ripple. She felt an arm on her shoulder as she was spun around. She gasped as she saw she was now face to face with a very irate looking Simon Cowell. “What did you just say!” he repeated even angrier than before.
“Answer him!” Eric yelled as he moved to stand next to Simon. “Mom please,” he whispered as he softly laid a hand on her arm.
“Simon you are Eric’s father. I’ve never forgotten your voice; never. I knew who you were the second you greeted me at the meeting. As soon as I left I completely freaked out; you are my babies father-”
“No!” he bellowed. “No, no I am not! Stop lying!” he begged as he turned away from them. It wasn’t long before he turned to her again; fire blazing in his eyes. “If this was true, then you wouldn’t have kept my son from me!” he spat one last time before turning to walk away; leaving them behind.
“Simon!” She screamed as she saw the rear lights of his car as he sped out her driveway. “No!” she sobbed as she ran out of the drive, only to see his car being hit head-on by another car. “Eric call an ambulance!” She screamed to Eric who was standing in the doorway before she took off up the road to Simon’s car.
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“He needs an urgent blood transfusion or he’ll die,” the doctor said to Paula and Eric as they stood waiting urgently for news on Simon’s condition.
“Isn’t there anyone who can give it to him?” she asked.
“Simon has a very rare blood type o-negative -”
“My son is o-negative,” she said quickly as she turned to Eric. “Will you do this for you father?” he simply nodded as the doctor asked him to follow her out of the room, so that he could quickly donate the blood.
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“Um…” she turned her head to see Simon trying to awaken himself from the aesthetic given to him before his surgery. He moaned softly as his eyes slowly opened. “What happened?” he asked, his voice no more than a whisper.
“A driver hit you head on, you needed an emergency blood transfusion as well as emergency surgery for your lacerated liver. Don’t move too much. You also have a mild concussion and whiplash.”
“Blood transfusion?” he whispered. “My blood is so rare. Who gave me blood?”
“I did,” a voice replied from the shadows. “Me. Your son,” Eric whispered as he moved to stand in front of the bed. “Here is the DNA test confirming it, if you don’t believe us,” he said as he passed Simon a piece of paper.
“My son,” Simon whispered after a few moments; his eyes shining with tears as he reached out to grasp Eric’s hand. “You named him after my dad. Thank you,” Simon whispered as he used his other hand to grasp Paula’s.
“Your dad?” she asked confused.
“His name was Eric, and he died three years ago,” Simon whispered as those tears fell down his cheeks. “He was my best friend,” he said softly as he allowed himself to break down. Eric moved to hug his father - they clung tightly to one another.
A huge weight was lifted. A family was brought together. A game was won.
The year is 1980. They are in London; her and few friends on a short holiday away from all the stress of work and family; a few days where they can party and just generally let their hair down, and have a good time.
It was recently her eighteenth birthday and because she is in England, she can legally drink alcohol. So for her birthday her friends had heard about this club in London where anyone whose anyone was going . So of course they were going and she didn’t have a choice in the matter.
She had to admit as they walked down by the Thames River; admiring the Thames Bridge on their way to this club, that she was pretty excited to be able to let her hair down and party, despite her earlier protests at not wanting to go.
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She felt as if she was in heaven as the base pumped loudly and rhythmically around her; she was dancing and she was in heaven. She moved her body in time with the music as she felt herself getting lost; this club was a good idea she mused as she began to increase her moves in time with music.
She could hear someone shouting what sounded like her name, but she was having way to much fun dancing to the music. She screamed when she felt someone’s hand on her shoulder, she turned to see her sister staring at her. “Paula, we’re going to this party with some guys over there.” she felt herself lost for words when she spotted who her friend was pointing too; her sights set firmly on a guy on the end.
“Let’s go,” she smiled as she took hold of her friends hand and they walked in the direction of the exit, the guys and the rest of their friends following. She began to feel slightly nervous as they turned onto a London street filled with rather nice, elegant London homes. She could hear music coming from a house further down the street; must be their destination she’d mused as they carried on to this house.
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“Ok here’s the deal!” a guy yelled after some time had passed; everyone had congregated by a cupboard, those who hadn’t were either passed out or too busy dancing. She herself would have rather been dancing but her sister had dragged her to the cupboard, insisting that she join in. “We are going to play ‘Seven Minutes of Heaven!’ in this cupboard!” the guy pointed to the cupboard.
“Oh no,” she whispered as she watched two people enter the cupboard, and after exactly seven minutes had passed they emerged looking pretty please with themselves. She whimpered in protest as she felt her sister and a few others pushing her towards the cupboard. “WENDY!” She yelled as she felt herself being pushed inside the cupboard. “Might as well have some fun with this,” she mused as she heard someone entering the cupboard with her.
“I’m sorry they are making us do this,” he replied quietly; his posh British accent sending chills down her spine as she spoke. She would definitely remember that voice.
“I’m not,” she replied; her anger long forgotten as she moved closer to his voice. “This may be the only time, I get to let my hair down and not think about the consequences of my actions,” she replied confidently as her lips found his; coming together in a flurry of passion and heat.
She moaned softly as she felt herself being backed up against a wall, his lips leaving hers so he could move to her neck. His skilled lips; his strong tongue tasting and mapping her neck as his hands pulled their waists close together. Allowing her to feel his arousal pressed up against her; hot and hard.
“Come on, harder! Only seven minutes!” she hissed into his ear. She moaned loudly as he responded by pushing up her dress and unzipping his jeans before he quickly moved her thong aside so he could thrust into her. “Ahhh,” she sighed as he began to move roughly inside of her; rough just how she liked it, once she’d gotten over the pain of a man being inside of her for the first time.
Her pleasure seemed to intensify as her shoulders were pushed painfully against the wall with each powerful thrust of his hips. He groaned loudly, increasing the speed and intensity of his thrusts as she dug her nails into his ass; egging him on.
“Fuck,” he growled as she felt him pushing closer against her as he came; his orgasm sending her over the edge into a place of ecstasy before they both came down from their high.
He kissed her softly in the darkness; their clothes just so as the door opened, and they were pulled back out by their friends who were hooting and hollering in celebration. They never managed to get a look of each other; they were dragged in different directions by their friends who tried to find out what happened in their. Both simply replied: “Seven minutes of heaven!”
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She groaned loudly as she once again leaned back on her heels; sighing as she for another morning reached for a cloth to wipe her mouth. As she’d once again awoken with the urge to empty her stomach. She couldn’t understand what was wrong with her; she really, really couldn’t.
The past few days were all just normal, everyday, days yet her morning routine started with her leaning over the toilet. She didn’t feel ill; she felt perfectly fine, so this whole throwing up situation was one of total confusion.
Maybe she was just simply dancing to hard. That had to be it. There just couldn’t simply be any other explanation for her feeling the way she was each and every morning; there just couldn’t be. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of any other possibilities. She just wouldn’t.
“Aw honey,” her sister sighed as she entered the bathroom to spot Paula once again on her knees in front of the toilet. “You throwing up again? I think you need to go and see the doctor?”
“No. I’ll be fine,” she replied staggering a bit as she stood. “I’m fine! End of the conversation!” she snapped before leaving the room, to begin dancing as she did every morning.
“Stupid, stupid people telling me what I should and shouldn’t do!” she muttered as she grabbed her keys, before heading out to her car. “Off to dance!” she called out to Wendy who was stood in the door way, before she sped off into the distance.
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“Where am I?” she whispered as she opened her eyes to see herself in an unfamiliar room; her sister, mother and someone she assumed to be a doctor staring over her.
“Honey, you uh… fainted at dance and hit your head. They called an ambulance and you were brought here. This is Dr. Marshall,” her mother said as she pointed to the unfamiliar woman.
“How do you feel Paula?” Dr. Marshall asked as she picked up and looked at the chart, which had been attached to Paula’s bed.
“I feel fantastic,” she lied, wincing as she touched the sore spot on her forehead. “Can I go now?”
“Liar!” Wendy snapped before turning to face the doctor. “She’s been throwing up every morning, and this morning after she’d thrown up she staggered as she stood.”
“Wendy!” she pouted like a defiant child who’d just been caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.
“Is this true?” her mother whispered in shock; Paula nodded.
“She’s also been eating irregularly because of her vomiting!” Wendy chimed in.
“Well,” the doctor replied as she set the chart back in its place. “We are going to need to run a few tests, and take some of your blood. I’ll be back shortly.”
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“Come in!” she called as she heard a knock on her door. At her permission the door opened and Dr. Marshall entered carrying a clip board with her test results on.
“I have the results of your tests. Do you want your family here or do you want privacy?” she enquired.
“They can stay,” she replied a little uneasily; she was scared. What was he going to tell her. Did she have some kind of killer disease or something. What was it?
“Ok. Well according to the results of your blood test, you are pregnant. We are going to need to do a ultrasound, to determine how far along you are. I’m just going to go and get the ultrasound room ready. I’ll be back shortly,” Dr. Marshall replied before leaving three very shocked Abdul woman behind.
“This is all your fault!” she screamed at Wendy, once the door had closed.
“My fault!” Wendy yelled in horror. “How is this my fault?”
“You dragged me to that stupid party!! You made me play that stupid game in the cupboard!” she accused.
“You didn’t have to do anything! No one would have known!” Wendy retorted. “You had sex didn’t you!”
“Of course I bloody did! I’m pregnant aren’t I? Babies aren’t made by magical baby-making fairies!” she screamed before curling herself into a ball where she began to sob.
“Honey,” her mother began.
“Just leave me alone!” Paula screamed through her sobs. “Both of you!”
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“Oh, God, what am I going to do?” she whispered, placing her hands on stomach as her mother and sister left the room.
“I told you to leave me alone!” she screamed turning to face the door, as she heard It opening. “Sorry,” she whispered as she saw Dr. Marshall entering the room.
“You want to come meet your baby?” she smiled sweetly as she closed the door behind her.
“Yeah,” Paula whispered as she accepted the tissues handed to her by Dr. Marshall; she wiped her eyes before climbing off the bed. “Let’s go see my baby.”
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“So I am fifteen weeks pregnant, almost sixteen weeks.. I’m in my second trimester. How did I not pick it up this late?” Paula said as the three of them got into the car; her mother reversing slowly out of the car park.
“You’ve had a lot on,” Wendy said reassuringly from the front passenger seat. “Your always dancing, you never stop. I’m not surprised, that you never noticed symptoms until now.”
“Thanks,” she replied. “I guess, I’m going to become a mom. I wonder if my baby will sound British,” she whispered as she let out a shaky laugh.
“Bloody hell darling!” Wendy replied in a really bad British accent. Causing Paula to begin laughing hysterically; tears rolling down her cheeks, as she held her stomach; the laughter turned to sobs as she felt the small bump beneath her hand. She was going to be a mother. In just under six months, she would be a mother.
As their mother pulled over and stopped the car, Wendy clambered into the back and wrapped her arms around her little sister. Hugging her tightly as she sobbed. “Oh!” she gasped, her hands flying to her stomach. “I felt something,” she whispered as she placed her sisters hand on her stomach. “My baby, it moved!” her tears once again changing to tears of joy.
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“Come on honey! Push!” Wendy said encouragingly as her sister let out a groan of defeat, her head falling back against the bed. “Push!”
“I can’t push anymore,” she sobbed as she clutched her sisters hand tightly. “It hurts too much. I can’t push anymore.”
“You can Paula! You can!” Dr. Marshall spoke encouragingly. “Here, give me your hand. Do you feel that? That’s your baby!”
“My baby,” she whispered joyfully. “Ahhhh!” she screamed as she bore down for the final time; her baby exiting her body soon after.
“It’s a boy!” Wendy whispered to her as her nephew took his first breathes; screaming loudly. “He’s so beautiful.”
“He’s my boy,” she whispered her heart breaking a little as she remembered her son’s father; he would never, ever know he had a son. Their son would remain fatherless his whole life. “Wendy, say hello to Eric Matthew Abdul,” she said smiling as watched her son being wrapped up in a blue blanket by Dr. Marshall. Who then promptly turned to Paula, walking the short distance across the room to place him in his mothers arms.
“Hey baby!” she beamed proudly little Eric wrapped his small hand around her finger.
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She smiled warmly as she checked on her son before she herself headed to bed. She laughed softly as she saw her two-year old son clutching his favourite teddy; a blue dog known as Wonderdog.
Her father and sister had just recently returned from a trip to London. They’d returned with several gifts for little Eric; a teddy-bear, a new bed set and pyjamas all affiliated with a blue dog aka Wonderdog. Who apparently was a new phenomenon to hit the UK.
As soon as Eric had clapped eyes on his new gifts, he became obsessed with Wonderdog; refusing to part with his teddy. The video he’d been given of Wonderdog was used to put him to sleep at night.
“I love you my beautiful boy,” she whispered. Placing a kiss on his sleeping forehead as she tucked him into bed, before turning the lights and television off. “So beautiful,” she whispered as she headed into her bedroom across the hall.
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As the years passed, and Eric grew older. She noticed how honest her son was, he was very stubborn and direct. He wasn’t afraid of saying what he felt; when he’d seen her ‘Coldhearted’ video, he replied: “What a hot momma, I’ve got!” Quite a response from an eight-year old.
Eric was a very confident child, often he spoke his mind regardless of what the consequences were. Those who met him assumed he was a very cruel, arrogant and chauvinistic child. But those who knew him, knew this was just a front; the real Eric Abdul was loving, kind, trustworthy who always stuck up for and defended those who mattered to him.
Eric was taller than his mother - he wasn’t the tallest boy around though. He had black hair, his skin was a lot paler than his mothers. He also had ice blue eyes; all of these qualities made him a huge hit with the ladies.
These qualities had almost earned him a short stint in Juvenile detention. He’d come home from camp early to find Brad holding his mother up against the wall by the scruff of her neck; her nose bleeding, the blood mingling with her tears. Eric had flown across the room picking up a vase as he crossed, he’d smashed this vase across Brad’s head; knocking him out cold.
This gave Paula the courage to finally leave Brad; Eric made her explain to him what had happened. He and Brad reached an agreement; Brad wouldn’t report Eric to the police for GBH and Eric wouldn’t report Brad for domestic violence. On her divorce papers and what she’d told the world, their marriage ended because of irreconcilable differences.
They were celebrating Eric’s 21st birthday when she received a phone call from her manager saying some man named Simon Fuller was interested in getting her on his new show ‘American Idol’, asking if she would be interested in coming to a meeting to discuss this.
She said yes almost immediately. She hadn’t held down a decent job In years - not that it mattered. She had enough money, so she didn’t have to work again if she didn’t want to. She’d fallen in love with the idea as soon as Simon Fuller began explaining it to her. She’d laughed when he’d warned of a man named Simon Cowell - saying he was a womanizer, who loved nothing more than a beautiful woman. She hadn’t felt like a beautiful woman in years -well not since that night; the night their baby had been conceived.
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“I’m so nervous!” she squealed as she rushed into the kitchen; searching for her other gold hoop earring. “Where is it!” she squeaked, knocking over the jam jar as she passed the table.
“MOM!” Eric’s loud voice cut through her day dream, bringing her back down to earth as she stood still; watching him with shock written all over her face. “Your going to be fine. So stop worrying about!” he said reassuringly as he wrapped his arms around her; hugging her tightly to him.
“Thanks darling,” she said, squeezing his cheeks lightly before grabbing, her bag which contained her keys, phone and most importantly her earring. “I should be back by dinner!” she called as she rushed out of the house.
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“So sorry I’m late!” she squealed as she entered the meeting room to see everyone’s eyes were on her. “My car started acting funny. Carry on,” she said nervously as she took a seat next to a man she recognised to be Randy Jackson.
The meeting continued quickly after. Her attention was focused more on a guy sat opposite her, rather than on the actual meeting. He seemed so familiar; she didn’t know what it was about him though. She quickly snapped herself out of her trance when he winked at her - this man was Simon Cowell, the womanizer that Simon Fuller had told her about. She blushed despite herself.
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“Paula?” The meeting had finished. She turned her head to see Simon Fuller standing with Randy, Simon and some blonde guy. “Come here a second will you.”
“Yes?” she enquired once she reached the group - everyone else had left, so it was only them left in the room.
“Seeing as you were a little bit late, you missed introductions. This is Randy Jackson. Who I’m told you already know. Ryan Seacrest - he’s going to be the co-host and finally this is Simon Cowell, our resident ‘Mr Nasty’” Simon Fuller replied as he pointed each man out by name.
“Baby girl! Been a while!” Randy smiled happily as Paula rushed into his arms; hugging him tightly.
“I know!” she beamed as he released her. “It’s been way too long! How are you?”
“I’m really, really good. Looking forward to getting on the road and seeing the kids; seeing what they can do. Not looking forward to being away from the family, how about you?”
“Eric’s just come back from travelling. I too am looking forward to seeing what the kids can do, I missed him so much and now I have to leave him for two months,” her voice trembled a bit as she spoke the words. “I’ll be fine,” she a few moments later.
“Hi I’m Paula,” she said extending her hand to the Englishmen.
“Simon. Simon Cowell,” he replied, accepting her hand. She felt as if the breathe had been knocked out of her body as he spoke - he was the guy she slept with during her ill-fated trip to London all those years ago. Simon Cowell was the father of her son Eric Matthew Abdul.
“Pleasure,” she replied through gritted teeth. After all these years he was standing in front of her, and he had no idea who she was. No idea that across town was the son he never knew he had. It should have shocked her that he had no idea who she was but it didn’t. Everything Simon Fuller had told her about him was true - he was a womanizer. So he’d probably slept with so many woman, he’d never remember them all.
“Excuse me. I need to go home now and see my son,” she replied shooting Simon a look of annoyance, before leaving him and Randy standing there shocked, at her reaction.
“I’ve only just met her and already she doesn’t like me. Wow that’s a new record!” Simon joked as Randy clapped him on the back. He liked Randy already; he and Randy were going to get on famously.
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“Hey! Don’t break my door!” Wendy said as she opened the door to reveal Paula almost breaking down, as she pounded on her sisters door. “What’s wrong?” she asked as Paula walked past her and into the living room.
“I found him,” Paula whispered as she and Wendy sat down on the sofa, facing one another. “I…” she started before her tears came. She quickly stood so that she could pace around the room - trying to calm herself down from the state she was in. “After twenty-one years - almost twenty-two years pass. I’ve finally found him.”
“Who?” Wendy asked, confused.
“Eric’s father!” Paula screamed frustratingly. “I found him! The guy who knocked me up!”
“How did you do that? I thought you didn’t know who he was?”
“I didn’t. I’ve never forgotten his voice. I’d remember it anywhere and today for the first time in almost twenty-two years, I heard his voice. I’m going to be sitting next to this guy for six months, and he doesn’t even remember who I am!”
“Who is he?” Wendy enquired.
“The British judge Simon Cowell. The judge from Pop Idol. The one who is known as ‘Mr Nasty’,” she cried. “You know what the funniest thing is? He looked right at me and winked. He doesn’t remember me at all!”
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“Who is that?” she said aloud to herself as she pulled into her driveway to see an unfamiliar black Mercedes parked next Eric’s car. Once she’d parked her car, and gathered her stuff she walked around the black car trying to decipher who it belonged too - nothing gave the owners identity away.
“Eric!” she called from the hallway as she set her bag down on the table.
“We’re in here!” he called back from the living room. She could hear a football game playing.
She entered the living room to see Eric and Simon sitting together on the sofa watching the football game. Despite the fact that she was shocked and frozen to the place that she stood, she smiled when she saw how confused Simon was when Eric would start shouting at the television screen. Eric would then try to explain to Simon what was happening on the screen; it didn’t seem to help. Simon’s confused expression seemed to increase.
“Excuse me!” she said loudly. “What are you doing here in my house?” she accused, her gaze somewhat narrowed as it focused on Simon. She nearly ceased breathing as she saw how alike Simon and Eric were; they were literally the spitting image of one another. The same hair colour and style. The same build, height and weight. Everything about them was identical even down to the shape of their ears and noses.
“Well,” he began as he clapped Eric on the back, before he stood to walk over to Paula. “I don’t know you, you don’t know me. If looks could kill I’d be dead, after the look you gave me before. I came over because I wanted to know what your problem with me is.”
“I don’t… I don’t have a problem,” she stuttered as she walked away from them, into the kitchen.
“Mom you quite clearly do,” Eric said as he and Simon followed her into the kitchen.
She turned around to see Eric and Simon standing by the kitchen table. She nearly ceased breathing as she saw how alike Simon and Eric were; they were literally the spitting image of one another. The same hair colour and style. The same build, height and weight. Everything about them was identical even down to the shape of their ears and noses.
Simon was holding Thumbelina in his arms, as Thumbelina was bombarded him with yelps and kisses. “Hello darling,” he cooed as he moved a chair from the table so that he could sit with Thumbelina on his lap. “She’s such a beautiful dog.”
“Seriously what have i done to offend you?” Simon asked as he watched Thumbelina flake out on his lap - it was a hot, humid day.
“It’s what you didn’t do,” she whispered quietly, as she turned to the sink.
“I’m sorry, but you are going to have to be more specific. What have I done?” he pleaded one more time.
“Eric honey sit down,” she whispered as she covered her face with her hands.
“Why?”
“Just sit!” she yelled quickly.
Only once Eric had sat down at the table on the opposite side to Simon, did she reveal her face; the distress evident on her features - like she had some big secret to reveal.
“I have something to tell you both. Something which I only just discovered,” she began.
“Go on,” Simon whispered to her as she paused for too long. He quietly set Thumbelina down on the floor.
“Simon have you ever played ‘Seven Minutes of Heaven?’” she asked looking straight at him.
“I’m not sure,” he replied a confused look on his face. After a few moments his eyes lit up with recollection. “Yeah once, about twenty years ago.”
“Twenty-two actually,” she replied as she looked over at Eric, who was staring at her expectedly.
“How the hell would you know?” he accused.
“Because… because I was the girl you fooled around with!” She screamed back at him; watching as the expressions of both Simon and Eric become one of nothing but pure shock. “And I ended up knocked up because of you!” she screamed before walking out into the back garden.
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“What did you just say!” She heard Simon croak from behind her as the door flew open. She could hear two sets of footsteps behind her as she stood staring down at the pool watching the water ripple. She felt an arm on her shoulder as she was spun around. She gasped as she saw she was now face to face with a very irate looking Simon Cowell. “What did you just say!” he repeated even angrier than before.
“Answer him!” Eric yelled as he moved to stand next to Simon. “Mom please,” he whispered as he softly laid a hand on her arm.
“Simon you are Eric’s father. I’ve never forgotten your voice; never. I knew who you were the second you greeted me at the meeting. As soon as I left I completely freaked out; you are my babies father-”
“No!” he bellowed. “No, no I am not! Stop lying!” he begged as he turned away from them. It wasn’t long before he turned to her again; fire blazing in his eyes. “If this was true, then you wouldn’t have kept my son from me!” he spat one last time before turning to walk away; leaving them behind.
“Simon!” She screamed as she saw the rear lights of his car as he sped out her driveway. “No!” she sobbed as she ran out of the drive, only to see his car being hit head-on by another car. “Eric call an ambulance!” She screamed to Eric who was standing in the doorway before she took off up the road to Simon’s car.
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“He needs an urgent blood transfusion or he’ll die,” the doctor said to Paula and Eric as they stood waiting urgently for news on Simon’s condition.
“Isn’t there anyone who can give it to him?” she asked.
“Simon has a very rare blood type o-negative -”
“My son is o-negative,” she said quickly as she turned to Eric. “Will you do this for you father?” he simply nodded as the doctor asked him to follow her out of the room, so that he could quickly donate the blood.
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“Um…” she turned her head to see Simon trying to awaken himself from the aesthetic given to him before his surgery. He moaned softly as his eyes slowly opened. “What happened?” he asked, his voice no more than a whisper.
“A driver hit you head on, you needed an emergency blood transfusion as well as emergency surgery for your lacerated liver. Don’t move too much. You also have a mild concussion and whiplash.”
“Blood transfusion?” he whispered. “My blood is so rare. Who gave me blood?”
“I did,” a voice replied from the shadows. “Me. Your son,” Eric whispered as he moved to stand in front of the bed. “Here is the DNA test confirming it, if you don’t believe us,” he said as he passed Simon a piece of paper.
“My son,” Simon whispered after a few moments; his eyes shining with tears as he reached out to grasp Eric’s hand. “You named him after my dad. Thank you,” Simon whispered as he used his other hand to grasp Paula’s.
“Your dad?” she asked confused.
“His name was Eric, and he died three years ago,” Simon whispered as those tears fell down his cheeks. “He was my best friend,” he said softly as he allowed himself to break down. Eric moved to hug his father - they clung tightly to one another.
A huge weight was lifted. A family was brought together. A game was won.
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