The Island of Apples

Chapter 1: The Angel

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I wake up to a warm fire. I'm really close to it. Hell if I turn over too much, I could burn my skin. I can smell my Angel by Thierry Mugler cologne. Mother had just gotten it for me because I told her I loved it. Shit...she would do anything for her boys. Only now it was all wrong. The smell was mixed with sweat...sweat and something else...

"Ugh..." I stated trying to get up.

I couldn't.

"You are still bruised up a little bit, you should lay back down."

I looked around. Who the fuck was talking? His voice was heavy. I turned to the light and the sound of his voice. Was it a halo around his head? No, no, it was just the fire in the background.

"Are you an angel?"

Stupid question. The pain shot through my spine. I was so disoriented. The man in front of me...well...he was beautiful. Yeah, see I always have been attracted to other boys. I'd never said anything. Mother would kill me.

"No, but I can try to be."
"Am I alive?"

"Yeah, I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing..." he stated.

"What?"

He looked sad all of a sudden. Where the fuck were we? It didn't look like a room. It was something else, but my mind was so disoriented that I couldn't form what was going on. Where were we? I began to panic. Why was I in such pain?

Why was I having such a hard time remembering anything?

"Where am I?"

"Get some rest."

I had really thought he was an angel. I tried to struggle. My mind was pacing so fast trying to put all these visions into my head, but my body felt so weak. It was almost paralyzed. Where the fuck was I? Why was there darkness everywhere?

All the questions flew at me faster than I could handle them. All the idea came at me faster than I could make logical.

"Where...where..."

Where? I couldn't even answer it. My body failed completely. I could feel a sleep coming over me and I could just see my angel there, standing over me, watching me as though so interested in me. He was watching me as though trying to figure me out.

The sleep came over me like a huge wind, knocking me unconscious.

I woke up with a headache. It felt like I was sleeping forever. The fire that was lit earlier had gone out. There was nothing beside me now but sticks and rubbish. I looked down, my shirt was off, my pants were ripped.

I saw that around my leg, I had something wrapped around my foot. It was wrapped like a bandage. It was a shirt. Maybe it was the shirt that I had on. I couldn't remember. Hell, I couldn't remember a lot of things.

Everything was dark where I was, but there was a light source. Underneath my feet was dirt and around me was stone. I must have been in a cave. Yeah, that's it a cave.

"Hello?"

Was the angel real? I remembered someone here. Where the fuck was I? I could hear water. Something like a shore was close. I was definitely sure of it.

I started up and ended up falling right back down. The pain was unbearable on my leg. I was bruised everywhere, I noticed. My legs had cuts everywhere. My arms which had once been beautifully chiseled and trained were now purplish as though someone has just hit me with a fucking car or something.

And the pain was excruciating.

I crawled out of the cave...trying to look out and see the source of light. It was everywhere? Could you imagine just waking up and not knowing where you were? I had no memory of how I got here. Hell...what was my last memory? I couldn't remember. I looked around trying to get towards the light. My foot was swollen. It really was.

Finally I got into the sunlight and you wouldn't believe what I saw.
It was beautiful.

A beach. It was completely empty of people as far as my eyes could see. The sand was so warm and the water's tide swept up onto it. Mother had taken my brother Duke and I to Jamaica a couple of times but this water was different. It was rich, almost like it was spawned from someone's fantasy. I couldn't imagine it to you. I couldn't justifiably express to myself how beautiful it was just to see this clear water rising like liquid jewels along the sand.

Mother would love this. It would fucking make her fucking day. I could already see her tracing everything she saw for her design. I could already see her so focused on the beauty of it all.

"Hello!" I called out again.

He had to be here. How the fuck did I get here? Why were my clothes damaged? I looked around. I felt this extreme loneliness as though the entire world had just up and...disappeared. I didn't know how to explain it except for that. I didn't know what else would make sense. Imagine everyone just up and...gone.

It didn't make sense. Help...help me. Who was I talking to? I was losing my mind. No one was here.

"HELP!" I screamed out at the top of my lungs.

My throat was dry like the time I had that weird champagne with Donatella Versace. It must have been an island. Yes, it had to have been an island. It was the only thing that made sense. What else would have brought me here? I didn't understand it.

Maybe if I could find a clue. I looked around. I never had really good eyes. I always needed my contacts. I definitely didn't have those anymore. My eyes burned too. I was fucking starving. I needed Food. Where the fuck was Guillermo when you needed him? He always mad the most delicious meals for Mother and I when we were on the yacht in Geneva. It was my favorite past time when we visited Switzerland.

Where the hell was Guillermo?
Where the hell was Mother?

I looked in the sand. They were footprints. They were definitely footprints.

I looked up over at the sand to realize that there were footprints in them. God... footprints. Footprints that I could follow. I found myself getting up, at least on one foot. Hell maybe it was someone who had food. Maybe it was someone who could tell me why the fuck I was brought here.

So, I got up, hopping my ass over to it.

Then something came across to me. I was the daughter of Marchioness Elle. She was a top fashion designer and well known. She was a personal stylist that rose from the ghettos of Compton to become one of the most sought out stylists in the world. She had money...she had fame and her beautiful son was taking her place.

I had been kidnapped.

I stopped walking. It all made fucking sense. Someone had fucking kidnapped me.

These footsteps were leading right to that person.

I picked up a rock. Oh hell no.

I made my way following the footsteps in the sand. This guy had walked far. It was only one set of footsteps though. He was walking alone. He had bigger feet. He must have been a big guy. I continued to follow them until they'd run out, but when they ran out, it was more tell-tale signs. The beach had led me to a path. It was a freshly made path in something that looked like a forest or maybe a jungle. Who the fuck knows? I didn't know where the fuck I was? I wasn't Crocodile Dundee.

It was fucking hot. I felt like was being auctioned on slave boat. I was way to black to be in the direct sun like this. What if I got too black? I was supposed to be training with Valentino at the end of the year. What if he looked at me and just said, "Oh he's too black. He can't be my apprentice." I'd just fucking die!
My fingernails got dirty as I parted the leaves.

This was a fucking nightmare. It really was. I'd just have to hit this guy with a rock, find my iphone, call Marcus and be on my way. Marcus was my mother's personal assistant. He was more like a bodyguard to me though. See, you needed a bodyguard when you were high profile like Ms. Elle was. Yeah, Ms. Elle, my mother never married my father. He kind of just fell off the radar. Never was in my life. Anyways, back to topic.

Plan number 1, hit man with rock.

Plan number 2, get my I-phone, call Marcus to come pick me up.

Plan number 3, I really was digging the graffiti Louis Vuitton sneakers. They were from someone Spruce. Some American guy. I don't really do the Americans. My mother escaped that hellbent city a while ago. They all called her the uppity black girl. Oh, we weren't uppity...they were just a little "down"-ity.

I don't remember how the hell I got here, but I know Marcus would.

I finally made it.

There he was...the angel.

Why the hell was I calling my kidnapper an angel? I mean devil. There the devil was. At first I couldn't see him, he was a figure standing next to a waterfall. The leaves were everywhere. I wasn't big on nature, especially after Mother took me to the safari in Africa. Like who goes there? That was so 2005...it's so 2010 now. If I wanted to see animals, I'd take my camera back to Compton. I was so glad she didn't come back with a little refugee baby though. I'd met Angelina's little kids when Mother was dressing her for the Grammys. I just didn't get the whole kid accessory thing. Why not get the red bottom Louboutin?

The waterfall was beautiful. I could see that far. Before I could see him though, he jumped off into the water. I prepared my rock and crouched down behind the bushes. I'd wait till he got out of the water and I'd sock him with the rock.

Suddenly he rose out.

It wasn't what I thought. He wasn't...dressed. From back there, I couldn't see it, but now I was closer and God...no, he had to be an angel. His body was at least. Every muscle seemed to scream, "Fuck me now." He was built perfectly. His dark clean look even though his clothes looked like he was begging someone for change. His face was beautiful. It wasn't beat up, even though he did have a couple scars on his body but I'd never seen someone so sexy. I mean, he looked like Reggie Bush if Reggie Bush was perfect. His body was cut. His dick hung several inches below whatever I'd seen in person before. He was wiping the water off his body with his hands. They moved splashed off droplets of water from his round ass cheek. I'd never seen an ass so perfectly round and so big and muscular and toned. And he had dimples. Jesus Christ. I wanted to dimples but the surgeon said I had to stop smoking before he'd put me under and I was DEFINITELY not doing that.

"AH FUCK!"

I didn't even see what I had done. I had dropped the stone on my foot. The fucking swollen foot! I screamed in pain, falling to the ground almost immediately.

That was when I realized he had noticed me. He came over to me immediately. Fuck...my dick. It was hard as hell. I saw his face as we made eye connections and he came out from behind the bush like the Dark Knight or something. Damn the closer he got, the more sexy he looked. I had to stop.

Dead Puppies...dead puppies...nuns...old, fat ugly nuns...

His eyes looked at mine then his eyes looked down at my dick. I got red, blushing crazy. Luckily for me he didn't seem to notice too much and his eyes just turned to my leg and then back to my eyes. Great, I could not have my kidnapper thinking I was fag. The last thing I wanted to be was just another Gay designer.

"Shit you ok, yo?"

Yo...great. He was gangbanger or something.

"Look. I don't have money on me. You know it's 2010."

"What?"

"It's 2010. Duh? No one carries money, honey. But I do have credit. I have um every designer you could imagine in my closet. I'll give you everything. Just please don't kill me..."

He took a step closer, "Yo man..."

I tried to kick away. I was crying now. He was going to fucking whoop my ass and there was nothing I could do about it. Where the hell was Marcus! Jesus Christ. Mother had told me I should start carrying around mace but I never listened to her.

"OH MY GOD, please! Please! I was SO not going to hit you with that rock! I know the twins who make Dsquared. I can get you a custom suit."

He reached for my throat, ready to rip my face off. He'd probably sew it on his clothing. I heard that's what they did in the `hood' now for respect. Oh god! Oh god! I shut my eyes ready to die.

Except that didn't happen. I opened my eyes to see that this naked, beautiful "Thug" was at my ankle...massaging it.
"What the hell are you talking about son? I'm just trying to see your leg."

I didn't say anything.

I just watched as he massaged my leg. Should I say thank you? I wasn't sure. I didn't want to be rude, but then, one couldn't be nice to their kidnapper. Or could they? Maybe he'd let me go without Mother giving out too much ransom. Not that the money would be an issue. Mother would pay just about anything to get me back.

"Listen...I'll still get Dsquared to make you that suit," I stated to him. That was worth ten thank yous where I was from.

"I don't think I'm really worried about a suit right about now, son," he laughed, "I don't even rock suits anyway. Not my thang."

Oh god. His accent was such a strong New York accent. I would notice it anywhere. I had been kidnapped by L.L Cool J.

"So you usually um...naked?"

He didn't even seem to notice it, "Sorry man."

He got up and walked away back towards the end of the waterfall that he had dropped into. I looked at my ankle. It was still swollen but I felt so much better. He'd really helped. I had to admit. I was impressed. What kind of kidnapper just kept turning his back on his victim though. He was an idiot. If his muscles weren't so big, I would really beat his ass, except, he was...well...sexy as hell. Who really wanted to beat up sexy people?

I came from behind the bush to see him dressed. He had pants on, jeans that were ripped and torn. They weren't purposely done either. He looked like he'd really been through something. Hell...I was the one to talk huh?

I walked up to him. He didn't seem to be too concerned. He was more concerned with putting his shirt on. What if I was threatening him? He didn't even except it. What the hell two budget kidnapper. I bet if one of the A-list stars got their children kidnapped someone would at least put in the effort to higher a better kidnapper. It just shows Mother she isn't as big as she thought she was.

"So um...how does this work, Tyrone?" I asked.

"Tyrone?" he stated looking at me, "You trying crack on me or something yo."

"I'm sorry, please don't `bust a cap' in my ass," I stated putting my hands in the air. I had watched the Wire enough times to know that meant surrender to these thugs.

"Why the hell are your hands up?"

"Look listen, my mom's probably really upset right now and I should probably be getting home and honestly I didn't want to have to tell you this but mother is having an affair with a married prime minister. I'm not going to tell you what country, but you threaten the right way and that'll definitely double the ransom."

"Ransom?"

All of a sudden he started laughing . He was laughing hysterically. I couldn't happen to notice how white and straight his teeth were. What kind of thug had perfect teeth? They looked too perfect, like veneers or something. Who knew the Oz prison had a dental plan?

He looked at me still smiling and shaking his head, "You...you're serious aren't you?"
"Oh you don't think she does? Listen, I don't want to make it sound like I'm the son of a hoe but mom gets around..."

"No not that. You're serious about me kidnapping you."

He was smiling.

"You aren't kidnapping me?"

"Kid...I don't even know who the hell you are. I fucking FOUND you. Great, not only am I stuck here. I'm stuck here with a stuck up psycho."
"Wait...found me?"

He flashed his perfect smile again. Ok, now he was just showing off. Or maybe he did really find me hilarious or something. He ran his hands through his hair.

"Found you. Don't you remember. We were on flight 129 together. You probably didn't even notice me. People like you barely notice ordinary people. You and your little entourage behind you...never notice guys like me."

"Flight 129..."

Flight 129.

The memory flashed back to me so hard that I was knocked off my feet. I fell flat on my ass immediately. I almost blacked out.

The flight...

The fire...

The screams...

"Are you ok?" he asked snapping me out of it, by grabbing on my arm.

"Get the hell off of me, I'm not a fag," I stated pulling away from him, "I don't need that."

If he wasn't my kidnapper then he really wasn't as dangerous as I thought he was. He let go of my arm as I wished and took a step back. I couldn't deal with him right now. I couldn't deal with any of this. I was still trying to figure out what happened.

"Look I'm not trying anything on you," he stated, "I found you on the beach. You're leg was real fucked up and you were unconscious. You probably my have so memory loss, I think it should be normal after what happened."

"What do you mean what happened, nothing fucking happened. We were flying to America. Duke and I...we were flying to America to meet Mother."

"My name is Rome."

"Oh my god. Like...please...oh my god...I'm having a break down. Are you saying...that we crashed!"

"Calm down. Tell me your name. Just calm down for a minute."

"Oh my god. My brother...oh shit. All my shit was on that plane. Like oh my god. Oh god. Like what do you mean we crashed? Like did you call for help. Give me your iphone..."

"Listen calm down."

"Call someone!"

"I don't have a phone. Even if I did. I don't know where we are...like...at all..."

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"I swam to the island. I was drifting on a piece of the plane that broke off. I must have been thrown from the plane. That is how I survived. I don't even know where the rest of the plane is. I found you two days ago. For two days I've been trying to contact someone. I've looked. I've walked as far as I can. Nothing..."

"There is always something? Like we must be on like I don't know, Jamaica. Like just a beach that people don't go to that much."

"We were in the middle of no where when we crashed. Don't you remember the pilot? He said we wouldn't see land for a couple of hours. Then the storm came. And Nothing was supposed to be there.

"I don't remember anything."

"Well take my word for it. I flew the route before. We never passed some random island. No island is supposed to be here."

"You said it was a storm. Maybe storm knocked us into Jamaica."
"WE ARE NOT IN JAMAICA!"

He barked at me. He seemed a little irritated with me. When he walked away at that moment I realized it just wasn't a little. He was really irritated with me, like he didn't expect me to be upset. Or maybe me being upset was disconcerting his little naked bath in nature. Maybe me being upset was disrupting his Mowgli moment.

"Hey YOU, don't walk away from me," I stated limping after him.

"My name isn't You and I really need some peace and quiet right now. You aren't the only one stressed."

"What the fuck, we need to fucking call someone. What do you mean peace and quiet."
"I am NOT in the mood right now."

"Well deal with it. Fuck your mood. We have to get out of here. Like...oh my god. We have to find the plane. Maybe it can still fly."

"Still fly? Did you not see the engine shoot up in flames?"

"I told you I don't remember anything."

"Well until you remember...leave me the hell alone and stop talking about all this bullshit that doesn't make sense," he told me shaking his head, "I'm dealing with a lot right now. I was on my way to some place very important that I needed to be. You aren't the only one struggling with this."

He was just walking away. He was just walking away like he was about to go fucking sleep or something. He just didn't give a damn. I couldn't understand how I was stuck here with someone who just didn't seem to give a fuck.

How could he not be panicking? A plane went down and we were stuck in no where and I was the only one panicking. It just didn't add up. Still, he couldn't have been lying. No one was around. Maybe if we hiked little we would find something...or someone. We just had to.

"Well right now we need to do something."

"I'm not doing a damn thing. I'm going back to that cave and I'm going to try to start a fire before it gets dark again. That is what's important. That is what I should be doing."

He was worrying me. It was almost like he didn't have any hope left in his eyes. He wasn't even slightly bothered. He just put his hands on his head like a mother who being nagged by her kid. He was acting as though all his stress was coming from me and not the fact that his PLANE CRASHED IN THE MIDDLE OF NO WHERE.

Then he did it. He walked away from me and went back into his cave leaving me there just thinking about things.

I couldn't have crashed. I'd paid good money for that plane ticket. My goddam brother. Duke. My older brother was on that plane. Fucking Marcus, my mother's assistant was on that damn plane. Were they gone? Were they dead?

Was I stuck here?

I found myself following him back to the cave. I looked over at him. He was trying to start the fire. He looked real focused on it. He looked like he would kill me if even thought about disturbing him. I took the risk anyway, standing over him. Maybe him and I started off on the wrong foot. I just couldn't understand how he could be so calm about this. I couldn't understand how he wasn't losing his head. We were stuck in the middle of no where.

Hell, asking him wasn't going to make a difference.

I stretched out my hand, "Your name was Rome right? Ok, my name is Baron Elle."