Aura In LaLaLand

by Skye Grace

  “Are you avoiding my question?” she counters.

  “Now why would I do that?”

  “Okay, you clearly aren’t telling me that part so I’ll ask you about the bar. I know you said something about their mai-tai’s being amazing, but are we eating there too?”

  “Probably just a little something, they’re not really known for their dinners. But you’re gonna love it and it’s on the way, so after the uh… after what we’re doing tonight, ahem, I will take you anywhere you wanna go.”

  She feels like her face might crack, she’s smiling so hard. The beautiful car, the insanely gorgeous man, it’s a little much and she’s feeling loopy san drinks already. “Well if the drinks are as good as I’ve heard, I’m probably just going to want In ‘n Out!”

  “We’re headed to the Valley, Aura, they have In ‘n Out’s there too, I promise.”

  He holds open the door for her as they enter the dimly lit establishment that must be made from 90% palm trees and she wonders how many hula girls had to go naked in order to decorate this place. Kitschy was an understatement. They’re greeted with a floor-to-ceiling waterfall fountain with a plethora of pennies pooled at the bottom.

  A hostess appears to ask if they’d prefer the bar or a booth, and Jacksen asks her to please wait just a second, “So we can make a wish or two.”

  He pulls a handful of change from the pocket of his dark wash straight legs jeans that she found to highlight his assets, though she tries not to show she notices. They’re paired with a black leather jacket, coordinating black leather Chuck Taylors, a blue button up, and a fedora worn non-ironically that just looks beyond perfect for their current setting.

  She smiles as he sets the coins in her palm and she exhales so deep it makes slight ripples in the water beneath her. Yeah, there’s enough here to make a double wish so here we go: I wish to love myself as much as I love Jacksen. And I want that love for him to be real and not all in my head this time. Oh, and if he could love me back, you know, unconditionally and everything, that’d be great.

  Deep sigh. The coins drift peacefully to the bottom. “Your turn,” she grins. He tosses another heaping handful of change, where was he hiding all that? into the fountain and he looks at her confidently.

  “That was easy. Okay, bar or booth?”

  “Booth,” she replies without hesitation. She can’t wait to be alone with Jacksen, really alone, like they were yesterday in that little green room. The few uninterrupted minutes she’d had with him, not to mention the effortless way their voices had harmonized together, it wasn’t anything she’d ever felt before, and she doubted drinking all the cocktails in the world would prove otherwise. Of course it was electric but there was something else she couldn’t place. Like being in a vacuum, the one found in space, not the household kind. Like there wasn’t anyone else in the universe but them.

  “So…” she starts after they’ve ordered their Mai Tais, “How is it that you live, like, blocks from me?”

  “How is it that you and I, at practically the same time, both request your presence at yesterday’s casting?” he counters.

  “You may have a point there,” she smirks.

  He makes a conscious effort to soften his tone. It’s partly his unofficial title, the King of Sarcasm, that gets the best of him most times, but right now it’s also the blatant uncertainty he feels surrounding, well, whatever this is. It wasn’t more than six months ago that he thought he couldn’t love anyone more than he loved Yvonne, and now it’s almost as if she never existed to him.

  “I bought the house after we wrapped Season 4. What can I say? I’m a once land-locked Texas boy, Aura, I need the ocean waves almost as much as I need air, ever since I moved here when I was 18.”

  The same age Aura had moved here. She nods in whole-hearted agreement, “It’s worth the commute.”

  “And I have a feeling you like all that driving, maybe even as much as I do.”

  She gives him a look, and he recognizes it easily. He’s seen so many members of the Protectors coven look at him that same way before, as if he can do no wrong. He’s met thousand upon thousand of fans over the years, embraced them with open arms, but never felt like he could really, fully connect with them. All because of that look, like he was this flawless entity to be worshipped, not touched, but put on a high shelf and adored from afar. He can’t have Aura looking at him like that or nothing would be real between them. He’s not Blaise, the bad boy warlock that needs reining, training, or fixing, and he’s not Jacksen Andrews, the perfect man, either. He’s a bit of a sasshole among many other flaws, and figures Aura seeing some of that could save what might be brewing here, in the end.

  “Although buying a car that beautiful, in automatic? It’s really a shame…”

  “More or less of a shame than putting a voice activated Bluetooth system in a 60’s Jag?” she counters.

  “Touché” he replies as their cocktails are brought to them. He lays the flaws on a little thick, taking what is clearly a mini bottle of chalky antacids out of his pocket, throwing a handful in his mouth in order to handle the rum and syrup-heavy concoction.

  Instead of being offended, she reaches out a flat palm to him and requests, “You know, for all the burgers you’ll be feeding me later.”

  He breathes a sigh of relief and places one in her palm. She raises her glass to his. “To finding a man with almost as much sass as me,” she toasts, and he has to respond.

  “To finding a woman that sees me not as Blaise, and not as the guy that’s been in People’s most beautiful issue, which ya know, I have been, a few years in a row now. Not that, but just the flawed asshat before you, the one with a bad sense of humor and the occasional but wicked acid reflux.”

  They simultaneously wash down their sodium bicarbonate with their ambrosia, their glasses crashing together without hesitation.

  When they pull up to the expansive single story gated home, she can most definitely tell they are not in Beverly Hills, and she likes it. He opens the door for her once again, and she takes the hand he offers but her knees buckle when she feels the electricity radiating from his palm to her and her ass falls right back in that seat. Jacksen crouches down to her eye level and gently runs his hand down her hair.

  “You alright?” he asks sweetly.

  “What is this?” she asks quietly.

  “This?” He beams, gesturing between himself and her.

  “No. This!” she exclaims, brushing her fingers along his jaw, sparking little jolts of static down his cheek.

  She already knows that Jacksen doesn’t crack easily, and his composure, from what she’s observed as a devoted fangirl over the years, is typically a force to be reckoned with. But she swears that she can hear his breathing get shallower now.

  “I don’t- I’ve never felt anything like that before, and I swear I’m not a wizard and that’s not a line,” he admits with a smirk.

  “Well I’ve never felt that from anyone else before, so how do I know you’re not a wizard?”

  “I guess you're just going to have to trust me,” he deadpans, pulling her up out of the car. She stands on the sidewalk staring up at the house, a thrill of excitement running through her veins and she gets the strangest feeling that she has wanted few things more than to come to this house, a party at this house, of all places, but can’t figure out why or how it’s special. She hears people in the back cheering and the sound of a live amp being plugged in. The sun is setting and the air is positively buzzing.

  Jacksen taps lightly on the front door and it opens, seemingly on it’s own, and she stifles a laugh as she notices the decor. It’s practically floor to ceiling leopard and red leather, ala her skirt and shoes, respectively, until she notices the art on the walls. The photos. The albums. She screams, covering her mouth with her hand instinctively. Thankfully the stereo inside is too loud for anyone in or out to even notice.

  She panics, turning around to face the door. She reaches out a hand and Jacksen closes the door,
his hand keeping it in place. He cannot possibly claim to have this girl figured out, nor would he want to, but something inside him just knows, she’s no stranger to running away when things scare her. He figures it must be one of the reason’s they hadn’t met, and the habit has to end now.

  “You’re not running away from what you want, Aura, not anymore.”

  “Jacksen, you can’t just take me here, to the lead singer of my favorite band since I was 15’s house! I can’t be here, I don’t know what to say. I don’t-”

  “Just be present,” he croons like a wise zen master.

  Easy for him to say, she grumbles to herself, He’s not the one who’s already floating above his body at this point. Suddenly, a guy a few years older than Jacksen swimming in tattoos up to his neck swipes her arm gently, promptly yanking her from her anxious out of body experience, and shouts, “Let’s go!”

  They follow him, Aura rather reluctantly, until they are outside in a sea of the coolest looking people she’s seen in forever, not trying too hard LA club cool, but actual cool. The full moon and string upon string of white lights above them illuminate the pink dusky sky. The expansive concrete ‘yard’ has a decent sized stage on one side, a pop-up tiki bar on the other, and an oasis pool surrounded by people in between.

  “Jacksen, The Heartattacks? How did you…” The band is about to play. Breathe in, breathe out. Repeat. This event is clearly for friends and family, an obvious ‘invite-only’ kinda gig that she can’t help but wonder about. How are we here?

  “When I saw this yesterday,” he gestures to her chest discreetly, “I couldn’t assume it was a coincidence. My bud Max, he’s been on the Protectors crew for years… His brother is the bass player, I just had to call him. He told me about this, said they’d be fine with us coming and I just couldn’t resist.” Jacksen shrugs his shoulders modestly.

  As I live and breathe. “Isn’t there some kind of law against people being this perfect? Are you positive you like women?”

  He laughs. “Perfect? I thought you were pissed at me for a second there. And women, yeah.”

  “And you’re not, ya know, planning on changing your mind on that anytime soon?”

  He just chuckles and shakes his head, leading her into the crowd. Her nerves soon give way to pure elation as she realizes they’re playing an album live, in it’s entirety, tonight, one she’d listened to daily in her little Cabriolet, aged 17. The earlier cocktails were working their magic, and the memories of friendships, first kisses, and sweet Seattle summer air on her face flood back to her.

  She glances at Jacksen, in awe of what he’s surprised her with; it means more to her than he can know. She sucks in a breath and touches her hand to his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes in advance.

  “For what?” he asks, puzzled.

  “This!” she shouts, joining the fast moving crowd, screaming and jumping up and down, head flailing from side to side and thank god for hairspray and a plethora of bobby pins. She’s totally lost in the music for the longest time and when she finally turns to check Jacksen’s reaction, the most amazing thing happens: he’s jumping too, legit punk rocker moshing with that quick head nod and she just erupts in a fit of giggles. She doesn’t want him to stop so she quickly bends her head down and pretends to be coughing.

  “You alright, babe?” he asks, hand brushing the small of her back, and this time she’s coughing for real, because Barbie’s Dream Husband just caressed her and called her ‘Babe’ and Come on, who wouldn’t? She just nods.

  “I’m gonna get you a drink,” he says, requesting her preference.

  “Think they can make anything remotely like what we had earlier?” she asks cutely.

  “Well remotely, maybe.” He smiles and adds, “Be right back.”

  The cocktail is most definitely a letdown after their earlier perfect trifecta -fruit, sugar, and booze, but it doesn’t matter, she’s too thrilled with the band and everyone around her. There are the casual, cool onlookers who nod their heads in calm contentment while the others bounce and sing along just like Aura does. Liam smiled politely when I played him punk, Jacksen is legit singing along. I mean, this one was a radio hit but still, amazing.

  A friend of the band bounds into the side of her, the one not flanked by Jacksen, spilling a splash of red on her shoes that actually matches. Aura brushes it off but Jacksen wraps his arm around that side and pulls her in instinctively. The person passes by quickly, not to mention the fact that she can hold her own in pits and circles far rowdier than this backyard get together, but his hand remains at her waist protectively.

  Jacksen takes a step back so she can position herself in front of him to get the best view of the band. He keeps his hand hovering over her back and she tries to keep dancing, but it’s a slower, reggae-type jam and the warmth, the energy of his touch, it’s too distracting. She turns to face him but somehow gets stopped mid turn. A different hand on her shoulder this time.

  “Well don’t you two look familiar, and way too pretty to be anyone we know,” coos a beautiful, leggy red head in the tightest black leather pants and tiniest gingham top, covered in ink from the neck down. Aura and Jacksen introduce themselves and they learn what Aura swears she already knew. This woman is Nicci B, not only one of the most popular alt models in the universe but also married to the Heartattack’s lead singer, someone Aura had adored and looked up to forever. She resists the urge to kneel at the woman’s perfect stilettoed feet and just smiles instead.

  “Ah! You’re Lizzy! From The Network,” the tattooed beauty realizes.

  “Yep, that’s me,” the reply flies from Aura’s mouth, “I mean I play her. Yeah, she’s basically me… with an accent. And a lot more issues!” Not that many more, who are you kidding?

  Jacksen explains that he’s close friends with Max and simply her escort, and Aura can’t help but wonder how someone as beautiful and charming as Jacksen could be so humble. Not that she doesn’t like it, she definitely does.

  “Of course! Bran and I just love you!”

  Jacksen feels her slipping and preemptively holds her tight around the waist, holding her upright as she slumps.

  “Um, I’m sorry? What?” She snaps back to reality.

  “We love you, we watched all the seasons after you wore one of our shirts in Season 1! He was just tickled.”

  She tries to picture Bran, the lead singer of her favorite band, someone so raw, so rough around the edges and badass being tickled, of all things, but goes with it. It does sound like something she’d do, and Whit lets her get away with any and all character choices, including wardrobe, so she just smiles and nods her head.

  “I have to tell him you’re here!”

  Aura tries not to spin. “Oh, um, no, you don’t have to, I’m sure he’s b-”

  “Break time! Trust me, he’ll want to know!” She kisses her on the cheek, the deep red leaving not a mark, and breezes away.

  “If you tell me you wanna go, I’m ignoring it,” Jacksen says, giving her plenty of side eye. Just when she thought naive insecure Aura and bitter, jaded Aura were becoming one, slightly more well-adjusted human, the fearful fangirl within rears her ugly head. Jacksen’s right, she can’t run. Not now, not really ever.

  She takes a big gulp of what tastes mostly like Hawaiian punch, “I know.”

  “Even if he wants you to go up there.”

  That’s exactly what I was just worrying. How did he know? Her head jerks violently until they’re eye to eye, only hers are much more bugged, “Jacksen? Is there something you’re…” She’s afraid to ask it but forces herself, “That you’re not telling me?”

  “Oh, about the whole gay thing? Well, there may have been one time, in college…”

  “Jacksen!” She holds back a giggle.

  “Is that not what you meant?” He smirks and it gives him away. He’s so serious, except for that he’s not, really. She pouts at him but it feels fake, she can’t stay or really even be mad, not at him. But the way he seems t
o anticipate her every move, every thought. It seems just too much to be a coincidence, for him to be only an attentive date. A giant thought forms and she doesn’t let herself think it. Not even half way. She opens her mouth and then closes it again. All she wants to say, or rather shout, is How are you reading my mind?? If that is what you’re doing. Ugh. How could that be what you’re doing?

  “There is a lot left to learn, it has only been what? A day and a half Aura? We can’t have told each other everything yet, right?”

  Her mouth stays shut. He’s right, dammit. I’m not imagining it though, it does feel like he knows more than I’ve told him. Which I guess is pretty much nothing.

  “But more on that later, huh?”

  “You’re right,” she exhales. “As long as there are laters.”

  “So many,” he breathes into her ear.

  Her mind runs blank for a response, but it’s too much. Too much to feel real let alone elicit a response, and it turns out she doesn’t have a chance to speak anyway.

  “Aura Liddel and Jacksen Andrews, am I gonna find TMZ hiding in my bushes next? Not that I’d mind!” laughs a rough, drawling voice she knows all too well.

  The two of them turn and Jacksen has a hand outstretched immediately, his other continuously holding her up, just in case, but she straightens herself up and outstretches a hand.

  “Great set, man,” Jacksen beams.

  “Bran,” Aura says, a gilded voice escaping her lips inexplicably cool and casual.

  “Wifey told me you were here ‘cause of Max, as if we couldn’t have put that together! Man, I love the Protectors! Wasn’t gonna admit to liking Girl Gang but what you pulled with our shirt, that shit was crazy,” the mid 40’s man, built and bald, covered head to toe in tattoos and black leather, jokes heartily.

  “What can I say? Fan forever.” She smiles.

  “I can tell you my wife’s plan, I kinda like it,” Bran says, and Aura raises an eyebrow. “Come up, sing with me. Just one, yeah?”