I inhaled deeply and let it go slowly. “I hated Florida with a passion. I knew early on that no matter what happened I was getting the hell out of that place. It wasn’t even like we lived in the cool part of the state. We lived in Pensacola for fuck sake.”
Mason snickered but quickly covered it up with a fake cough. “Sorry.”
“Are your parents still married?” I asked him out of curiosity.
“Yeah, they are.” He looked a bit shameful as if he knew what I was going to say next.
“My mom and dad were married once. Sometime after my sister was born he split. When she was three he showed up again or so I’ve heard. I mean, it has to be true because I’m here. He didn’t stay though. He got the hell out before I even met him.”
“He left your mom twice? What an asshole.”
I nodded in agreement. “I used to wonder if my life would have been different, had he stayed.”
Mason moved closer to me and wrapped his right arm around my shoulders. “What do you mean?”
“My mom was fucking unstable. I don’t even know if that’s the best word to describe her.” My chest tightened a bit. “She…well, she got involved in drugs. I don’t know exactly when it happened because sometimes we didn’t see her for days.”
The look on his face wasn’t one of pity. It was understanding which shocked the hell out of me. He had a decent childhood. I also knew he was still close with his parents. They called him often and vice versa.
“You mentioned a sister. What happened to her?”
London, my sister. Jill was the only other person who knew about my sister and my mother. The absent dad and half conscious mother wasn’t so horrible but if anyone really knew what happened; the spotlight would be on me and I would be Hollywood’s gossip magazine charity case.
“Her name was London and she was my family; my true family. We were only three years apart but she took care of me. I think now, how selfish I was. No one took care of her.” Tears did not fall for my sister. The emotions ran so far and stopped because I had cut the tie that bound them.
Mason looked concerned, as far as I could tell in the dimming light, and it could have been my lack of emotional reactions to the things that were spilling from my mouth or it could have been the alcohol coursing through his system.
“When London was twenty, she overdosed on a combination of pills and cocaine. I guess that’s right. My mother wouldn’t tell me the whole story but I knew she turned my sister into a monster just like her.” My stomach twisted in knots as I thought about how much I disliked my mother. So many times I had wished it was her instead.
The room was silent and thankfully, finally, pitch black. I could feel Mason breathing heavily next to me. We sat like that for an undetermined amount of time before he spoke. When he spoke it was almost a whisper.
“Fallyn, I don’t know what to say.”
“Just don’t tell anyone OK?” I was almost certain he wouldn’t.
“I don’t think I could repeat it. I don’t know how you told me all that without a hint of emotion.”
“Isn’t that what happens when you get over something?” I wasn’t stupid; I wasn’t anywhere near being over the things my mother had done.
His hand tightened on my shoulder. “No, that’s not how things are. You loved your sister, right?”
My throat was tight and scratchy just thinking about it. “She was all I had for the longest time, Mason. Of course I loved her.”
“Then it’s OK to be upset.”
I moved his arm and stood from the bed to move across the room. I leaned against the dresser, still in the complete black that had taken over. “Don’t tell me how to feel…I’ll do this in my own way.”
He slid from the bed and I couldn’t see him but I could hear his feet on the carpeted floor. There was a shuffling and when his warm, bare chest met my waiting hands I realized he’d taken his shirt off. His forehead fell against mine.
“It’s lonely, isn’t it?” He questioned and I could imagine the green of his eyes, intense and locked on mine.
“What do you know about being lonely, huh? You have a family that loves you and friends that would do anything for you.” Who was he kidding?
“It is possible to have everything you want and still feel empty; like something’s missing.”
Mason was searching for something just like I was. We were kindred in a way that wasn’t healthy but when you’re happy and feel human it doesn’t matter what’s right and what’s wrong. He kissed me lightly on the lips.
“You make me feel like a person, Mason.”
“I like that you need me,” he answered without hesitation.
“Is it possible to be addicted to a person?”
He sighed and his breath landed on my face. I could smell the liquor and it was oddly comforting. It made him real and that was all I needed at that point; something real.
Chapter 8
August 2009
For some reason I didn’t consider the fact that Mason was a working actor and would have to leave town eventually. I mean, he had been on the east coast just months before. Even so, when he told me a flight was leaving LAX for Vancouver with him on it, I was surprised.
“I didn’t want you to brood over it,” he admitted.
I tossed one of his shoes at his head. “You’re an ass. One, I do not brood and two, you waited until the day before you were leaving for a month to tell me. What exactly am I supposed to do for a month?”
He gave me his ‘I’m annoyed but not really’ look. “Decorate your place. I didn’t know I was supposed to entertain you daily.”
“Well, you are,” I said laughing. “I guess I could decorate the apartment. Then again, I can function with a bed and two bottles of water in the fridge.”
“Work will keep you busy. Aren’t you filming all this week?” He called from the bathroom where I assumed he was gathering his razor and toothbrush.
He was right, work would keep me busy most of the time. I’d been bouncing from one television show to another; filling extra work but most of the time a speaking role. A week before, I’d been approached about taking a minor part in my first big studio movie. Mason seemed to think it was a great idea and got me started on my SAG membership. My prepaid phone was upgraded to a post paid service and I was set up with an agent.
It seemed absolutely ignorant to pay dues to some union but apparently people were bound to hire me if I carried one of those pretty little cards around in my wallet. I would never understand all the rules.
“You can use my car…and I don’t let anyone drive my car so you should feel special.” He grinned at me as he returned to the bedroom.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re full of shit! You let one of your roommates borrow it a couple weeks ago.”
“Fallyn, you don’t miss much do you?”
“Days and hours of people watching will make you an observant person. Now finish packing so we can go eat fast food and jump in the ball pit at McDonalds.”
“I’m not jumping in the ball pit.” He zipped his carry-on and set it beside the door to his room.
“So you say,” I challenged. “How will you survive without me in Vancouver? Besides the piles and piles of eager fan girls, that is.”
Mason was a popular guy and it had never escaped my notice; we just didn’t talk about it often. He didn’t seem to want to bring attention to himself outside of his performing. Since he’d met me, he barely spent time in his own apartment. The only time he had actually disappeared was for band practice.
“Do you want my honest answer?” He asked me.
I grabbed my sunglasses and opened the apartment door for him. “I already know the answer but tell me in case I’m wrong this time.”
“Smart ass,” he pulled my ponytail, “I’ll call you whenever I can and if I get too lonely, you can come visit. You know, watch a pro at work.”
Yeah, he answered exactly as I predicted.
We went to McDonalds after that and
I did get him knee deep in the ball pit but he chickened out before I could tackle him and take him under, wimp. True to his word, he made me drop him off at his place and drive his car home to my new apartment. It felt weird, because we never actually established that we were dating but what man would send some chick home with his car if he didn’t have any investment in her?
My place was ten times better than the hotel room but with less furniture. Spending money gave me panic attacks, especially since the opportunities could end for me at any moment. It drove Mason crazy and he didn’t fail to tell me. There was one thing I wanted to buy for myself but it was gone. The painting. The bleeding girl had become something of a symbol to me and I wanted to look at it every day, hanging on the wall of my small living room. My heart failed a little when I had stepped off the bus and gazed into the window. It had been full of vases and some odd sculpture.
I’d told Mason about it and he didn’t seem as concerned as I had been but he assured me I would find something else to go in the spot on my wall. The wall that was still empty.
I stripped my clothes off, pulled on my favorite t-shirt and sat down on my bed with my backpack. I didn’t carry it anymore but I couldn’t bring myself to take the things out of it. It sat in the corner of my bedroom like a reminder that life could turn on me at any time.
I unzipped the front pocket and pulled out the pile of photos I’d managed to save from my storage space before they took all my shit.
London smiled up at me from the faded photograph. Her cheeks were slightly sunken in and there were dark circles under her eyes. I don’t know why I didn’t see it then. Clearly, she was sick. In the photo, that last one of us before she overdosed, she wore her John Lennon shirt. The same shirt I was wearing at that moment.
***
Mid-August 2009
I missed Mason. It was unexpected and he’d only been gone for two weeks but I missed the hell out of him. I’d finished work a week earlier and even drove his car down to the Target to buy myself some small appliances. I was running out of shit to keep me busy. So, when his call came in early on a Monday morning, I almost killed myself trying to make it to the living room before the cell phone stopped ringing.
“Hello…,” I wheezed pathetically.
“What the hell happened to you?” He asked.
I patted my chest, trying to calm my breathing. “Nothing, I was jogging laps around my new coffee table.”
“You bought a coffee table? I don’t believe that shit.”
“Well I did, asshole. It matches my new area rug. Suck on that.” I laughed, pleased with my comeback.
He was quiet but I could still hear his easy breathing. “Fallyn, I miss the hell out of you.”
There he was, the real Mason. “I miss you too…LA sucks dick without you around to raise hell with. I was so bored; I bought a bread maker.”
The common sense solution to our situation would have been me finding more friends and for Mason to enjoy the ones he already had. For some reason, that didn’t occur to either of us. We did what we wanted, when we wanted to and no one challenged the little bubble we lived in.
“You don’t even know how to make bread.”
“I do now. I’m practically a pro.”
“Whatever you say. Listen, I called to get your work schedule.”
I sighed. “There’s nothing going on right now. I’m not set for anything until next month. Why?”
He chuckled nervously which made me nervous. “That’s good, because I bought you a plane ticket to Vancouver. You do know where your passport is don’t you?”
Of course I knew where my passport was. It was one of the first huge things Mason did for me, even though he claimed it was necessary as an actor to have such a thing. “Yeah, it’s in my drawer. Mason, I can’t believe you bought me a ticket without even asking me.”
“It’s not a big deal. You can see what it’s like on a movie set before you start work again next month.”
He always played off his gifts as something that would benefit me rather than something he’d done because he cared about me. It was a fear of rejection as far as I was concerned, although, despite my protests on his kindness I would never do such a thing.
“You don’t have to convince me, I’ll come. Just give me the info and I’ll be at the airport when I’m supposed to.”
“Great.” I could hear the smile in his tone. “The flight leaves tomorrow morning at seven and I won’t be able to pick you up when you land but I’ll have a car there for you.”
“Wow, Mason. You’ve got all this planned out and I’m fucking impressed.”
“I’m glad; I aim to impress you with my mad travel coordination. So, I have to go…sorry. I miss you, can’t wait to see you. Oh! Everything is reserved under your stage name, don’t forget.”
Always looking out. “I won’t, promise. See you tomorrow, Mason.”
I wasn’t shocked at all over his last minute choice to fly me to Canada. Mason did things like that all the time but he followed everything through. It was odd that I refused to let him take care of me at first but eventually he wore me thin and I hardly protested after that. I could see it made him happy and I loved, yes loved to see his happy face.
Besides, no one knew better than me how fast things change. I wouldn’t take anything for granted, ever again.
The next morning, I had done a complete turn around. I sat at the gate, waiting for my flight to board and listed every reason in my head, why going to Vancouver was stupid. My knee bounced out of habit and the lady next to me looked worried, like I was about to spaz out and kill her.
“Sorry,” I said with an apologetic smile. She looked relieved.
Rather than disturb her any longer I stood and stretched. I pulled out my cell phone to check the time. I remember that moment so well because it was the first time I realized the power I held in my hands as an actor. The gate attendant called first class passengers, which was me. Before I could reach the gate, I felt a short, quick tap on my arm. It startled me so I turned accusingly until I saw the little girl, who had tapped me.
“I’m sorry but my mom told me she saw you over here and I wanted to say hello.”
“Oh…uh, hi…there. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Fallyn.” I stuck my hand out awkwardly.
“I’m Bree,” she shook my hand and smiled. “I’ve been taking acting classes and all my friends tell me it’s nearly impossible to become a star. My mom told me all about you though; she read about your lucky break.”
That little girl only knew what had been released but she was impressed. I could see it on her face. I looked up and noticed her mother beaming in the background. “Listen, Bree. I’m so happy you’re giving it a try. It was nice to meet you.”
She thanked me and left. I finally boarded the plane, in a daze the entire time. It felt wrong that a little girl was looking to my story as inspiration when I hadn’t ever really wanted to be an actor. I did it for the money and to get my ass off the streets. I couldn’t tell her the whole truth. She was better off not knowing the whole truth. By the time the plane was in the air, I felt like a shit head. Slowly but surely I was conforming to Hollywood and it’s conniving ways.
Like a bipolar mess, I was feeling better when the plane landed and I cleared customs. I pulled my carry-on through the airport, toward the front door. As promised, there was a tall, thin guy holding a sign with my name. He showed me to a limo; my first time in a limo and we headed toward Mason.
Vancouver was slightly cooler in temperature but I liked it. I loved all the buildings and the different people. I could feel my previous emo-like thoughts melting away.
“We’re headed to set first, Ms. Marshall,” my driver said after rolling the partition down halfway. I would never get used to my stage name.
Really now? “Oh, OK. Thanks.”
He nodded and closed us off from one another once again. I took a good look at my outfit and groaned. Going to set meant meeting Mason’s co-workers/friends. I did
n’t know a damn thing about any of them except their names and I was about to make a sloppy first impression. If Mason said a word I would strangle him; right after I let him know it was his own fault.
***
The limo driver ceased being helpful when we reached the set. He left me and my small suitcase right where we got out and pulled away. I looked around wearily.
“Fallyn?”
I turned to the sound of the voice, which I didn’t recognize until I saw the face.
“Yeah, hey…you’re Lynn right?” I asked, almost sure I was right. I had at least seen ‘Storming the Shores’ and knew that Lynn was Rebecca, which at that time, she was in full costume for.
Vicious Circles Page 6