Act Two

[Mayah Playah]

two very similar men,
two very different desires,

..................................................................................................................three lovers,

Ѳne very big secret.




Cyrus Carroll was one of the most handsome men in the world, with movie deals all over the world and women draping themselves all over him. He was intelligent, talented, and practically perfect in every way. Of course, that fact was what brought him down, literally. While trying to show off to the hordes of beautiful women who followed him around, the White Rabbit, as he was affectionately dubbed by his fans, crashed his motorcycle into a hard wall. He was flown immediately to a hospital, and fell into a comatose state.
Left with four hue movie deals, trillions of dollars and no star, Carroll's managers and agent were desperate for a solution, ANY solution. The answer to their problem was found in a young medical student with debts up to his neck and a remarkable memory. However, this was all easily overshadowed by those beautiful eyes hidden behind thick glasses, smooth and handsome features covered by unwashed and uncut hair, and well-toned body manipulated into a thicker and less muscled form by his baggy and strange clothes. The second they saw the awkward and clumsy Cyrus Liddell, they knew they had the perfect temporary replacement for their silly White Rabbit to control the masses and keep their money.
Unfortunately, they still have to convince the Sexiest Man Alive, movie star Cliff Northwind, that his rival (and rumoured lover) is who he says he is.

 

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"You've got to be kidding me."
Two men stood at the end of a hospital bed, staring grimly at the patient. Bandages wrapped around his head and an oxygen mask slowly pumping air into his lungs, there laid Cyrus Carroll. Cyrus was a famous actor, adored by many and regarded by all. And now here he was, stuck in a coma.
Of the two men, the blonde one looked at the doctor that watched them pensively. "And you don't know when he'll wake up?" When the doctor shook his head in reply, the blonde cursed under his breath.
The other man, the one with glasses, shared his partner's despair and looked at him chastely. "We can't direct anything without one of our leads. We already have the ads and trailors out, it's too late to replace him."
"It's not like we can buy another A-lister, anyways." the blonde groaned while running his hand over his face. "Even if we did, Cliff won't work with anyone other than Cyrus."
The very thought of the devilishly handsome lead actor being so angry sent shivers down both the directors' spines. They exchanged worried looks then looked back at Cyrus' sleeping body, as if hoping he would spring up and be ready for a shoot like whenever he took a nap in his dressing room.
But he didn't.
About an hour and half of frustrated pacing and desperate solutions passed before the blonde director froze. "I've got it..." he breathed, making the one with glasses quirk a curious eyebrow at him. Catching the facial expression, the blond turned to his partner and whispered, "Cyrus".
The one with glasses stared at his co-worker for a while then sighed. He's finally lost it, he thought pitifully while pushing his glasses up. "Yes, Cyrus." he drawled and motioned to the man in the bed. "He's in a coma, and without him our careers are ruined."
Suddenly, the blonde grabbed his cohort by the shoulders. "No, you idiot! Cyrus! I-I don't know his last name, but he's our Cyrus' stunt double! A lookalike, don't you get it?!"
It took a while for the brunette to catch on, but when he did his eyes widened with pure awe. "By God, you're right. Wh-Where is he? We have to get him right now!!" he stammered while yanking his phone out and checking his list of numbers. Finally getting one, he clicked and pressed it against his ear.
"Richard, send the stunt double of Cyrus Carroll to the Green Leaf Hospital. Immediately."

 

[Mayah Playah]

Cyrus Liddell



"What is the meaning of this?!" cried out a young male dressed in scrubs as he was tugged into the hospital building. His hair was all over the place, tangled and stained with unknown colors and his eyes were covered with thick, black-framed glasses, and if he'd looked like anyone that the crowds knew, they weren't given much time to stare and figure it out. The young man struggled against the two men handling him, not wanting to enter the building but not much stronger than the individuals holding him. Once inside, he firmly planted his feet on the ground and clenched his fists. "I demand that you tell me what this is all about!" he cried, stomping his foot for good measure.
The two only shook their heads, pointing past him for another door. "We can't tell you, Mr. Liddell. Just go inside the room, please."
"I refuse." He crossed his arms, only to groan as his forearms were clasped and he was lifted into the room. He watched the door close,t hen sighed and turned to see who he was meeting. "What do you wan-" He stopped speaking at the sight of the body laying in the bed. He blinked, his hands falling to his sides and eyes growing wide. "That's Cyrus Carroll. In a hospital bed. WHAT'S GOING ON?!" The young man fell backwards against the door, his hand clutching his shirt at his chest and eyes staring up at the two, his hair finally moving to show his face that so closely resembled the one on the bed.

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Twin beads of sweat rolled down both men's head.
"Over-dramatic as always." the man with glassed sighed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment, contemplating whether this was a good idea or not, then, when he realized he had no choice either way, he looked back at Cyrus. "Mr. Carroll got into a motorcycle accident while attempting to show off to his fans. Now he is in a coma, and we're unsure of when he'll awaken. Or if he will at all." he explained.
"That's why we called you here." the blonde continued, wearing an expression just as serious as the brunette's. "You're Cyrus' lookalike. His doppelganger. His stunt double. You already know most of his scripts, and you've been around him long enough to understand what he's like. Therefore, we'd like you to impersonate him until he wakes up."

 

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Cyrus Liddell



He stood upright, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "Hell no!" he answered, moving away from the door to sit on the couch's arm. "I can't be Cyrus. I quit being a stunt double for a reason, Dennis. I'm a medical student, I can't waste my time playing pretend because Cyrus Carroll is stupid enough to get into another accident!" He looked over at the other male's body, shivering at the mere idea that he could pretend to be that pompous a**. "Besides, Cyrus has an arrogance that I can't duplicate. I'm not an actor! Just memorizing his scripts and prancing around like a peacock won't sell the idea. What are you planning to do, coach me to perfection?"

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The two exchanged looks.
"More... motivate."
The brunette pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose then pulled out a contract he had readied before Cyrus arrived. Unfolding it, he handed it and a pen to the boy. "We're prepared to not only pay off the huge debts you accumulated off, but to also pay you Mr. Carroll's paycheck during his absence. Your starting pay will be seven million. We'll have it transferred to your account when you sign."
"But if you do sign then you will be staying in Mr. Carroll's luxury home, drive one of his many cars, and spend his extensive amounts of money. Problems I'm sure you can handle." the blonde smirked while crossing his arms.
"For the first couple weeks we can blame your different attitude on the effect of the accident, but we'll train you to be like Mr. Carroll. Until then, we'll settle a leave of absence with your school." the man with glasses explained. Both directors decided against informing Cyrus of a... very large and arrogant problem.

 

[Mayah Playah]

Cyrus Liddell



The young man choked on the air he was breathing. S-seven million?! That would pay off everything! That would handle every single debt, and not just the school payoffs. It would take care of everything! How could he refuse? Cyrus stood up and exhaled slowly, defeated eyes looking up at the two. "I hope you realize how much I hate you," he said, his tone showing that he agreed. "Fine, I'll do it. But if he hasn't woken up in ten months, I'm going back to school, even if it has to be as him, alright?" Swallowing back his fears, Cyrus looked around for the papers he knew they had to have somewhere. "I'll sign. But what about the rest of the day? Isn't he supposed to start shooting today?"

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The man with glasses wiggled the papers in his hand so that Cyrus would see them. "We've managed to delay the shooting by a day so that you can rest." he explained. "We'll drive you to your new home. You will wear everything in Mr. Carroll's closet, nothing from your old home."
"With this day off, I advise you to watch all of Mr. Carroll's movies. Watch the behind the scene extras and get a feel for the life you're about to live. Now come on. Let's get out of here before the paparazzi arrive." the blonde ushered and walked out, the one with glasses waiting for Cyrus to leave before following after him.

 

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Cyrus Liddell



He nodded sharply and started out after them, holding his left arm with his right hand. "I don't like his clothes, though. Cyrus is so flashy and crap, and all his clothes are tight and uncomfortable. Can't... Can't I switch up his style a little?" he dared to ask, reaching upwards to move his hair from behind his ear and cover his face once again.

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"No." both men replied simultaneously without skipping a beat. They waited to get in the car before speaking again.
"If Mr. Carroll is annoying, you will be annoying."
"If Mr. Carroll dressed flashy, you will dress flashy."
"If Mr. Carroll spends up to twenty thousand a week, you will spend up to twenty thousand a week."
"If Mr. Carroll is gay, you will be gay."
Giving Cyrus enough time to register what he was told, the car soon arrived at its destination. Waiting for them was Cyrus' large manor. It practically reeked of money, and the inside was even worse in the aspect. Fine art decorated the walls every few steps, and the furniture looked as if they had gold threaded into them.
"Maids come in every Tuesday, so be especially prepared then." the man with glasses explained as he parked in the driveway.
The blonde stepped out of the car and opened Cyrus' door, pulling him out. "Hurry and get used to your new home. Rest up, watch movies, then be ready for your new life tomorrow. And remember: do nothing, smell like nothing, and look like nothing from your old life. You're Cyrus Carroll now." Having said that, the blonde nodded and got back into the car, which then drove off and left Cyrus to his new life.

 

[Mayah Playah]

Cyrus Liddell



Cyrus was trying to pay attention, but kept finding himself distracted by the scenery they were passing. It wasn't until he heard the g-word that he snapped back into attention. "Wait, Carroll's what? What was that last one?" But they just kept going, and before he knew it, Cyrus was standing inside the huge house, holding the stack of instructions and looking around. With an exasperated sigh, the young man forgot all about it and went upstairs to the bedroom, ready to acquaint himself with the mansion.
Around an hour and a half later, Cyrus walked down the stairs dressed in the most normal clothes he could find: skinny jeans, a white button-up and a navy blazer. He tied part of his hair back into a ponytail, scrunching up his nose at the strange soap he'd used. It was Parisian, he thought. With another sigh, the tired male walked into the front room and looked around, eyes on a huge painting. "Of course, a Modigliani. Why am I not surprised?" grumbled the young man as he wrapped his arms around himself. It was cold, mostly because huge houses tend to have a draft, and partly because of those eyes staring down at him from the painting.

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Ten minutes passed until a loud thud came from the front doors. The thud came again, then again, and soon barraged the doorway. Before Cyrus could even stomp to the doors, they opened with a fervor and in stepped a god.
It was hard to tell whether that was an exaggeration or not. Standing in the mansion's foyer was a tall, well-built man with a casual suit that fit his form well. His soft black hair moved with the tiniest of nods, and though there were sunglasses on the man's face, it was easy to tell that there was one powerful and seductive glare hidden behind them.
That man was one of the country's best actors, known for both his acting skills and his gorgeous looks, and his name's Cliff Northwind.
Cliff looked around slowly, searching for something as meticulously as a bloodhound. As he did so, one large hand reached behind him to pull out a pack of cigarettes in his back pocket, a habit he picked up from his dad. He pulled a cigarette out and slipped it between his lips, but before he could light it, he spotted the mansion's owner a few feet away.
"Cyrus...!" Cliff breathed, a look of bewilderment, shock, and even relief on his face when he spotted the man. The forgotten cigarette fell from his mouth as he rushed to the thinner male's side. "Jesus Christ, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the hospital?" he asked while looking the man over, searching for any wounds or bruises, something that would support his questions.

 

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Cyrus Liddell



Everything happened so fast, Cyrus could barely register what was going on until he found himself being examined by the Sexiest Man Alive, as he'd been awarded the past few years by that magazine Cyrus couldn't remember the name of. Although he was starstruck already, the medical student remembered himself and pushed him away, holding up his hands and laughing nervously. "Cl-Cliff! I'm fine, man, I just... I just needed a bag of ice, a couple of bandages, a kiss on the knee and I was all good!" He reached out a hand, setting it on the man's... incredibly sculpted shoulder and smiling as sincerely as he could. "It's so nice of you to worry, though. Thank you for the trouble, but I'm really okay, I promise." Taking his hand away, Cyrus set it on his hip and gazed up at Mr. Northwind. "They said I'll be a little disoriented for a while, unfortunately."

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Cliff's eyebrows furrowed with unconvinced concern. For a man that was regarded as cold yet handsome, he looked like a worried parent. Then, in the blink of the eye, the actor easily lifted Cyrus up bridal-style. "I don't believe you. You're being nice, so that means you're hiding something." he said, his deep voice laced with determined care. He strode up the many stairs, his body too fit and Cyrus' body thin enough for Cliff to not worry about breaking a sweat. He was also well versed in the mansion's layout, and in no time he was in the master bedroom.
Walking to the huge bed that could fit perhaps four people, Cliff set Cyrus down and put the blanket over him. "Mind fillin' me in on what happened? I heard you got into an accident." he murmured while sitting down on the edge of the bed. As he waited for an answer, he removed his glasses and looked at the other male with the same sea blue eyes as his father's.

 

[Mayah Playah]

Cyrus Liddell



"Yo!" yelped Cyrus as he was picked up, fingers grabbing the man's expensive suit jacket as he furrowed his brow from his new height and position. "Okay, I'm not a kid, Cliff. You don't need to treat me like one!" he tried to protest, crossing his arms as they got into the bedroom. Once the slender male was on the bed and covered by a blanket, he sighed and leaned against the soft pillows, already irritated by the rich plushness that made him tired in an instant. He was prepared to never tell the weird-acting actor what had happened, but the second he saw his "rivals" eyes, those beautiful blue orbs that glowed with concern and kindness, he knew he wouldn't.
Cyrus had been caught up on what happened in the car, and also given a story as to why he was in such excellent shape for a motorcycle accident victim. "I was stupidly trying to show off for some girls at the track and tripped over a cone. I got thrown off the bike into the grass and walked away unscathed, but the the bike... Let's just say Cordelia's in a better place now." He sighed, looking out in the window in a mournful way, remembering how much Carroll had loved that ridiculous old bike.

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