Yes! Mr Murphy

Part 42

The following morning, when you stumbled into the living room, you noticed that your dress had been hung up over one of the armchairs neatly and that there was no sign of Kit. It looked like she had packed up and left without saying goodbye, causing you a mix of relief and concern simultaneously. Relief, because your unease around her presence eased somewhat, and concern, because something about her sudden departure struck you as odd. Nonetheless, you decided to put these worries aside temporarily and focused on preparing for the day ahead.

You made some coffee and took a seat beside the window to read through Cillian's latest script, knowing that he wouldn't mind. Cillian himself was still sleeping peacefully, clearly exhausted from last night's chaos. He deserved a rest. Taking in the view outside, you felt grateful for the serene silence surrounding you. However, amidst the tranquility, there was an eerie sense of loneliness hanging in the air. It dawned on you then that even amidst Cillian's fame and success, his life was far from perfect and neither was yours.

You had recently received some letters from the department of immigration, reminding you that your visa was going to run out within six months and, unless you found a suitable employer who was willing to sponsor you, you knew that you had to return to the US.

Unbeknownst to Cillian, you had spent countless sleepless nights wracking your brain, trying to come up with ways to prolong your stay in Ireland, yet nothing came close to materialising just yet. Feeling guilty and fearful of burdening Cillian with your problems, you resolved to wait patiently for the opportune moment to confide in him about this issue but it like as though he had bigger issues to deal with right now as, suddenly, his manager knocked on the door.

"Up so early?" you asked after having opened the door for Ben, who was in his sixties and exhausted from last night's BAFTAs.

"Yes. Where is Cillian?" he asked immediately, and almost rudely, just as Cillian stumbled out of the bedroom, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts.

"Good morning, Ben" Cillian said with a yawn, rubbing his eyes. "Anything interesting?" he wondered, seeing that Ben usually liked to sleep in past nine.

"Interesting might be putting it lightly," Ben replied worryingly. "There's some bad news coming our way, unfortunately," he explained, and Cillian's brows furrowed.

"Oh, really? What sort of bad news?" Cillian asked, sitting down opposite Ben. His curiosity piqued instantly.

Ben glanced nervously across the table at Cillian before breaking the unsettling news.

"So, this morning, I was informed that there's this video on the internet now, featuring you engaging in explicit sexual acts," Ben explained, causing Cillian to choke on his cup of coffee.

Hearing those dreadful words, Cillian froze, unable to believe what he heard. His face drained of color as his world crumbled beneath him.

"What?" Cillian croaked hoarsely, scarcely able to find words. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still – reality suspended, disbelief palpable in every cell of his body. He couldn't fathom why someone would do such a thing, seeking vengeance perhaps? Or simply to exploit his celebrity status? Regardless, the thought of this sordid act being public knowledge sent waves of panic coursing through his veins.

"Am I on the video too?" you asked a little calmer than Cillian, but still confused.

"Unfortunately, not, because if you were, you at least could give a statement together when shit hits the fan,"

Ben answered bitterly, his voice dripping with fatigue. His eyes fell onto you briefly, conveying sorrow and compassion. There wasn't much more to add—this was indeed terrible news.