Vicious Circles

by Leann Andrews

  Finding a taxi was extremely easy and the driver knew right where the bar was. I sat back against the leather seat and watched as the dark buildings passed, one by one. My initial thoughts about Mason Chance were starting to wear thin and it was unnerving. If he was actually a decent guy then I wouldn’t mind being friends with him. The thought of him being an actor and fairly well known was scaring me just a bit. No one, and I do mean no one, knew much about me at all. I liked it that way. Jill knew the most and still she was clueless.

  My heart beat a little faster when the driver came to a stop outside the back door of a small brick building and Mason was leaning against the wall, waiting. He leaned in the open window on the passenger side and handed the man a twenty, instructing him to keep the change.

  “I figured you would change your mind,” Mason said to me as I stepped from the yellow car, slamming the door behind me.

  “I was considering being civil to you but then you go and say asshole shit like that,” I chided in a smart tone.

  He ignored my comment and held the door open, motioning for me to go in ahead of him. So, he has some gentleman qualities. They probably disappear once he’s naked and balls deep inside of some wannabe.

  The bar was dark but lit well enough so I didn’t trip and fall up the narrow staircase to the second floor. There was a main room, which was empty besides a small table and a small couch that was directly below a window facing the street. I could hear voices from the room Mason was headed toward and stopped. I wasn’t going to be on display.

  “What’s wrong?” Mason asked me when I stopped walking.

  “I don’t want to “hang out” with your buddies in there. I’ll just sit here on the couch.” My chest was tight and my head was still pounding.

  He looked confused but let me have my way. Instead of continuing on to the other room, he spun around and took a seat on the small couch alongside me. “I’ll sit with you,” he said hesitantly.

  “I just want to go back to LA,” I said finally. “Jill talked me into coming out here and then that bitch left me high and dry. Wait until I find her.”

  Mason laughed, relaxing his posture and turning toward me. “Can I ask you something?”

  “You can ask me, I may or may not answer.”

  “I can’t quite see why you and Jill are such good friends.” He looked away, probably because he was making assumptions. I decided to answer because he had assumed correctly.

  “Jill is my only close friend and you’re right…we are polar opposites. Sometimes I can’t stand her, like right now, but she knows more about me than anyone and it’s just easier.”

  “I understand,” Mason said, nodding. “I understand that completely.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” Fair is fair, I say.

  He simply nodded.

  “Why were you screwing her?”

  “Wow, don’t hold back.” He ran his right hand through his hair, which had been straightened. “Look, sex is sex. We’re both adults and adults have sex.”

  I cut my eyes at him. “Don’t speak to me like I’m ignorant. I’m sorry Mason, but I’m an adult and I like sex but I won’t be having it with you or anyone else for no good reason. Jill has no moral compass…”

  “Whoa, you aren’t suggesting I have no morals are you? Trust me, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

  I drew back into the couch, shocked that I had actually touched a nerve. A slight guilty feeling set in, which was odd considering I barely knew him. “I didn’t mean it that way, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” he responded quietly. “I have to work on the set list for the show, will you be okay here?”

  “I’ll be fine, go do what you need to do.”

  He stood and walked a few steps. “You’ll be on a plane tomorrow, I’ll see to it.”

  Rather than answer, I turned sideways and cranked the window open, to let the night air in. Voices floated up from the street below. Upon further investigation, I realized the line to get into the bar was all the way down the block. I’ll admit that the band was more popular than I had originally thought and I felt bad for thinking less of them.

  The small couch was my refuge that evening. I could hear the music and screams as I sat there, my arms wrapped around my legs. It made me think about my first night in LA, the first time I had met Jill.

  Jill and I met at a screening party by pure accident. My very first roommate, who also turned out to be just another wannabe actress, was lucky enough to get an invite and I was lucky enough to be asked to tag along with her. I remember hanging out at the bar, drinking martinis and building a cabin with the toothpicks from my olives. We struck up a conversation about my roommate who had disappeared to do God knows what with God knows who. I really did like Jill at first.

  It was when she couldn’t keep up her part of the bills, when we got a place together that ultimately was the downfall of our friendship. I spent all my savings, trying to save our asses. Then I lost my job.

  We’d been homeless ever since. Unfortunately, we’d been friends since then.

  Around one in the morning, the music and the screams died down. I watched with tired eyes through the window as the crowd was filtering out of the small bar along with the other guys. I watched as they hugged fans and took pictures. The only one missing was Mason. When I heard footsteps on the wooden stairs behind me, I knew it was him.

  “Why aren’t you downstairs, mingling with your adoring fans?” I wondered without turning to face him.

  “I thought I would come up and make sure you were still here. Do you want a beer or something?”

  “Ok first, you’re a smart ass because you know there isn’t anywhere else I can go and second, I just want to get out of here.” My patience with him was wearing thin. I couldn’t figure out why he was tolerable one moment and severely annoying the next.

  Mason sighed and cracked open a can of beer that had mysteriously appeared from his coat. “There is no warming that frosty exterior is there?”

  “Asshole!” I was up off the couch and in his face before he realized it. “You have no business judging me. I know all about you. The arrogant walk and good looks; you’re just a prick with talent and luck.”

  He was frozen, not knowing how to react to my harsh, but definitely true, description of him. I backed away, leaving his personal space to him once again.

  “You know,” he started with a frown, “I admire you for saying what you think but you are way off.”

  “Am I? I think-”

  “No…you’re wrong and if it were me, stuck miles from home I wouldn’t be too damn picky about how I got back.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, Mason was right. He was putting me on a plane at his own cost and sending me back to Los Angeles. When had I become so hateful and jaded? Losing everything you have affected people differently it seemed. Some were humbled and thankful for just being alive but others…like me, were angry at the world and refused to look at the bad choices that may have led them astray.

  “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just…” I had no idea what to say. Mason and I were quite a bit alike and that was the problem.

  He waved his hand, blowing off my half-assed apology. “I called my manager earlier and she’s got you set up in a room and on a flight tomorrow morning.”

  Hold the phone. “Wait a minute.” I held my hand up, watching his face the whole time. “You mean, I sat up here by myself all night when I could have been in a room that was already booked?”

  Mason nodded without apologies. “I bet if you run on downstairs one of the guys can get you a cab.” He laughed, tossed some money and a piece of paper on the couch beside me then walked off.

  ***

  I thought about things that night, as I soaked in a very large whirlpool tub. Mason had walked out on me twice. Granted I had pissed him off and completely insulted him both times as well. I had been a total bitch and he still helped me out.

  Mason was right, I was an ice queen.

&
nbsp; Chapter 3

  June 2009

  As much as I wanted to track Jill down and beat her ass, I resisted. I had something like an epiphany, realizing that staying clear of her was more beneficial to my well being. Although, I was sleeping in a shelter at night, I was sleeping without a dark, drama cloud floating above.

  I knew, through word of mouth that Mason had returned toward the end of May and to be honest I hadn’t thought of him since the last time I saw him. He’d tossed some money and an address on the couch like I was some sort of whore. Fuck him. I spent too many damn days thinking I was a cold hearted bitch when really, he treated me like shit right back. As far as I was concerned, we were even. With that said, nothing, and I do mean nothing, good would come of me going to see his band play in West Hollywood, however; I had plans to go. So, maybe I was a masochist or maybe I had trouble admitting to myself that he was intriguing. The little voice in my head was screaming ‘what if’ and there was no way I could back down.

  After I’d left the shelter that morning I spent my day wandering around the city. I usually wandered with no real direction until one of Jill’s friends drove by and picked my ass up. Someone would feed me and give me a ride; that’s how my life went every day. The day I speak of though, went differently. I walked along Santa Monica Blvd, which I just never did, until the display in one of the shop windows caught my eye. I wasn’t a huge art buff, obviously, but the main painting on display caught my attention. It was a young girl, younger than me I assumed. She was crying but her tears were blood. It was almost as if she were bleeding from the eyes. I’d never bled from my eyes but I could appreciate the meaning of it all.

  Through that window, I also caught my own reflection. It made me want to switch places with the girl in the painting. My dirty blonde hair was tangled; someone had stolen my brush. I’d been wearing whatever I could find at the local church and trust me…the olive green board shorts and white tank top was not holding up well.

  “I know you.”

  I turned to the familiar voice, shocked to see Mason Jennings standing behind me. Jesus Christ, I can’t be this unlucky.

  “Are you stalking me or something?” I shot back.

  “I remember now…Fallyn, Jill’s ex-friend.” He looked mighty fucking pleased with himself until his eyes began to look me over.

  “What are you staring at you creeper?” My arms crossed automatically.

  “Um…how are you? I can see you got back okay.” It was too late. I noticed the realization on his face. “Am I interrupting something?” He asked, pointing toward the window.

  “Oh, this?” I directed my thumb toward the bleeder. “No I was just checking things out, you know. I’m on my way to meet someone actually…so I should.” I edged away, trying to get away before he started asking questions.

  “I’ll give you a ride. My car’s at a meter up one block.” He narrowed his eyes, probably judging me silently.

  He could join the masses for all I fucking cared. As far as I knew he was one of the faces that passed by and looked at me with shitty, horrified looks. “I don’t need a ride, I’m fine.”

  “Look, I’m just trying to help…”

  Why am I so bitchy to this guy? I started walking away backwards. “You want to do something for me? I’ll be at your show tonight…buy me a drink.”

  “I can do that,” Mason called, smiling.

  I broke out in a run after that. The further I got from that window and Mason, the better I would feel. He just wouldn’t give it up. It was bad enough I had developed word vomit and asked him to buy me a drink. He had the nerve to smile at me. What was his issue anyway? There was always girls willing to get busy with him and he was trying to help me for some unknown reason. Maybe he really was an okay guy, but that was harder to swallow than expected.

  A gas station bathroom served as my vanity that night. I’d jammed the door with a mop from the cleaning closet and changed my clothes quickly. I stared in the mirror, looking at my unrecognizable face through the streaks. At one point in time I was going somewhere, I had direction. My eyes weren’t quite so dull and lifeless. My cheeks weren’t quite so sunken. The girl before me in that dirty ass mirror was a stranger and there was no way anyone would give her a chance.

  “Enough of that shit,” I told my reflection sharply, splashing water from the faucet onto my face. The pipes clanked and groaned in protest while I applied what little makeup I owned to cover what I was, to transform myself into what I wanted to be. I would step out of the bathroom a different person.

  Hollywood was buzzing as usual when I exited out onto the sidewalk. I walked about a block, taking my very first left, ending up at Hollywood and Vine. The place was the equivalent of the bubonic plague for me but there I was, trying to blend in with everyone else.

  I moved in the direction of Santa Monica Boulevard where I’d had my Mason encounter earlier in the day. For the first time since I’d moved to LA, my eyes stayed along the ground and I began to admire the stars placed in the sidewalk. It wasn’t until I stumbled on the star bearing the name Lawrence Jennings, that I actually stopped. Maybe I was so bitter and jaded because I was jealous. It was clear that I was miserable and my day wasn’t done unless I made everyone else around me miserable.

  I began to walk again, afraid of getting to the club late.

  Mason was a different story though. My view of him was tarnished, what with all the man whore behavior…that was his own fault. Then he tries to buddy up to me after I blasted his and Jill’s business all over that dive bar in Philly; the man is clearly a masochist. Why do I keep thinking about Mason? I’ve lost my mind.

  The bitch inside really wanted Jill to be sitting at the bar when I finally reached the small club in West Hollywood. Instead, the bar was almost empty. The bouncer, who I’ve seen a million times but never bothered to ask his name, grinned at me after putting a bright pink band around my wrist.

  “Where’s your sidekick, honey?”

  “Maybe she fell off the end of the earth. One can only hope,” I said with a slight sneer.

  Nameless bouncer guy continued to talk to me while checking ids and banding wrists. “I would hate to be her.”

  “You’re a smart guy,” I offered him with a hint of a smile.

  I caught sight of Mason’s gang in the back corner of the club. Sucking up my unnecessary pride, I walked over slowly. He noticed me approaching and excused himself from the crowd.

  “So you were telling the truth.” He threw me a sideways grin that I didn’t return.

  “Do I look like a liar to you?”

  He seemed uncomfortable but answered anyway. “I…well, no. It’s just, you left in a hurry this afternoon. I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

  “Yeah,” I rolled my eyes. “Look, I’m sorry about that. I’m not the best person to be friends with, I have…issues.”

  Mason didn’t flinch. Instead he ran a hand through his hair and grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the bar.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  “I’m buying you a drink, just like you asked.” He signaled the bartender and then turned back to me. “As far as your issues go, you’ll be surprised to know I have my own fair share of them as well.”

  I wasn’t really sure how to respond to that shit. I mean really, was he trying to be friends with me? “Why are you so fucking annoying?”

  He laughed, clearly amused. “Why are you here if you think I’m so fucking annoying?”

  “I don’t know!” I pouted, clearly frustrated.

  As much as I tried not to, I was beginning to like Mason. He wasn’t so horrible and I couldn’t be too judgmental considering my big fat list of shitty choices. That’s where my real trouble began. If I actually opened myself up to this guy, he would want to know all about me and telling someone that you’re homeless and a giant failure tends to turn people away. I was getting too far ahead of myself.

  “Let’s go,” Mason grabbed my arm again and pulled me through the
back and out the metal door at the rear of the club. He pulled two cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lit both, before handing me one. “Now, let’s start over.”

  Why the hell not? “I’m Fallyn Michaels, nice to meet you.” I stuck my right hand out and waited.

  “Mason Jennings,” he grabbed my hand and shook it. “That wasn’t so bad was it?”

  “No, I guess not.” I looked out toward the street, smoking the cigarette he’d given me.

  We continued on in easy silence and I was glad. Any moment he would ask more questions about me and I had no idea how to answer any of them. I didn’t know if I wanted to answer any of them.

  “Are you from California?” Mason asked, turning toward me.