Love's Illusion

by Priya Grey

  Now Nash really feels like throttling the kid. He takes another deep breath, as he watches him text away. Phillip eventually puts his phone down.

  “With kettle bells, basically every move is about the hips,” says Nash, as he shows Phillip the exercise.

  “I really don’t see the point of this,” whines Phillip. Then his phone rings. He doesn’t give a second thought to answering it.

  “What’s the 411, homie?!” he shouts into his phone. “I know, right?! It was fuckin’ lit! I told you: Your man, Stewart, will never steer you wrong. I know where all the honies are at. And tonight, bro, I got an invite to a party up in Malibu that is going to be off the chain. I’ll shoot you the address. Now I got to go, my trainer is a bit of a bitch when it comes to me talking on my phone.” Phillip shoots Nash a look. Nash feigns a smile. “Alright, later bro.”

  Phillip hangs up.

  “I hope that’s the last call. We’ve already wasted ten minutes of our workout session,” Nash points out.

  “Whatever,” responds Phillip. “It’s my money.”

  Actually, it’s your dad’s money. But Nash keeps his thoughts to himself.

  “Speaking of money,” Phillip continues. “I’ve been coming to you for a while, bro.”

  “This is only our third session,” Nash states.

  “True, but I thought I’d be seeing some results by now.” Phillip lifts up his shirt. He points his finger toward his beer gut. “I ain’t seeing no six-pack, bro.”

  “It’s not going to come over night,” says Nash. “You have to work for it.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” asks Phillip, suddenly defensive.

  “You can’t expect to get a six-pack after working out only three times,” says Nash. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Alright,” says Phillip, a suspicious look still in his eyes.

  Then his cell phone pings again. Phillip reaches for it and answers a text.

  Nash lets out a huge sigh. This hour long workout session already feels like it’s lasting an eternity. As he waits for Phillip to finish texting, Nash realizes his days as a personal trainer are numbered. He can’t see himself catering to obnoxious clients like Phillip Stewart all day.

  Chapter 18

  While Nash struggles through his training session with Phillip, Selena finishes work on a new music track. She decides to celebrate by going skateboarding. As she navigates her board through the streets of LA, she listens to the new track on her headphones. She thinks the track is awesome and can’t wait to send it to DJ Stop & Frisk in Brooklyn.

  As the music blasts through her headset, Selena skates to a street corner. She quickly looks to make sure no cars are coming. Then, she takes off on her board. But when she turns onto another side street, a car appears out of nowhere. Selena quickly maneuvers the skateboard to avoid a head on collision. In the process, she falls off her board. She crashes onto the pavement. A scorching pain runs up her arm.

  “Shit, are you alright?”

  Selena looks up and sees Matt – the guy from the wedding she DJ’d. She can’t believe it’s him. And by the look on his face, he can’t believe he’s run into her either.

  “How about watching where you’re going, asshole?” Selena snaps.

  “I could say the same to you.”

  Then Matt notices Selena’s arm.

  “Let me take you to a hospital.”

  “I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

  “Are you kidding me, look at your arm? It’s broken.”

  Selena glances downward. Her arm is bruised and swollen. The image registers with her brain. Suddenly, the pain increases ten-fold.

  “Shit,” she cries as her arm really begins to hurt.

  Matt carefully helps her up and walks her toward his car. He assists her into the passenger seat.

  “Let’s put the seatbelt on.”

  “Seriously?” says Selena, shooting him an annoyed look.

  “It’s for your safety. It’s against the law not to buckle up.”

  Selena glares at him. “Maybe you should have thought about my safety before you drove your car straight into me.”

  “You came out of nowhere,” Matt replies. “You really should look where you’re going when you’re on your board.”

  “Un.Fucking.Believable,” complains Selena. The pain in her arm worsens. “Just get me to the hospital.”

  “So, no seatbelt?” Matt asks.

  Selena shoots him a dirty look. “That’s right.” She then adds, sarcastically, “Let’s have some fun and break the law. What do you say?”

  “Fine.”

  Matt gets into the driver’s seat and looks for the nearest hospital on his phone.

  “You really should be more careful on your skateboard,” he mutters.

  “Maybe you should be more careful driving your car.” Selena winces in pain. “Fuck! This hurts.”

  “Ok. I found a hospital nearby. We should be there in no time.”

  When they get to the hospital, Matt rushes to Selena’s side of the car. He opens the door and helps her out. They check her in at the front desk and are told to take a seat and wait. A doctor will see her shortly. Matt decides to stay with her.

  “You can go. I can take care of this on my own,” Selena says to him.

  “I’d rather stay.”

  “Don’t you have a job to go to?”

  “I make my own hours.”

  Selena looks at him, still angry she broke her arm. “Let me guess: trust-fund kid.”

  Matt looks at her, confused. “What makes you think that?”

  “I don’t know. You just have that attitude of self-entitlement.”

  “Good to know,” Matt responds with a smirk.

  “I didn’t mean that as a compliment.”

  Selena then winces as the pain in her arm increases.

  “But seriously, you should go,” she tells him. “I don’t want you causing any more damage.”

  Matt turns to her and speaks in a low, calming voice. “Listen, I’m sorry this happened to you. But this wasn’t totally my fault. You came out of nowhere. I honked. But you had your headphones on and didn’t hear me.”

  Selena doesn’t know what to say. She turns away from him, annoyed. They remain silent until a nurse enters the waiting room and motions to her. “Ms. Selena Rivers. The doctor will see you now.”

  Selena gets up and looks at Matt.

  “It was so not nice seeing you again,” she says bitterly.

  Then she follows the nurse.

  A few hours later, when she steps back into the waiting area, Selena is shocked to see Matt still there. She can’t believe he waited this whole time for her.

  Matt points to the cast wrapped around her arm.

  “Six to eight weeks to heal, right?”

  Selena nods.

  “While I was waiting, I looked up ‘broken arms’ on my phone.”

  “I’m glad you kept yourself entertained. But you didn’t have to wait.”

  Matt shrugs. “I know. I wanted to. I guess I just like the verbal abuse you keep throwing at me.”

  Selena tries to suppress a smile. But it doesn’t work.

  “Are you hungry?” Matt asks.

  “I’m not going to lunch with you.”

  “Then I’ll drive you home,” Matt offers.

  “I can take an Uber,” she replies. Although this Matt guy is handsome and seems nice, Selena is really frustrated that she has a broken arm. It’s put her in a really foul mood.

  “Come on. Let’s go out to lunch. Everyone needs to eat,” Matt persists.

  Selena looks at him again. He’s got a kind face, and I have been acting a little bitchy toward him, she thinks to herself. I was wearing my headphones. Maybe I didn’t hear him honk before we collided.

  Matt keeps staring at her, waiting for an answer.

  “Why do I get the feeling you won’t take no for an answer?” she asks.

  “Because I never do,” he says with a
genuine smile.

  “I don’t know…” Selena mutters.

  Matt takes a step toward her. “Selena, you have to admit: It’s incredibly coincidental that I met you three days ago, at a wedding in Santa Barbara; and then we end up crashing into each other in a city of four million people.”

  “What are you saying… you believe this is fate?”

  Matt shrugs. “I wouldn’t go that far. But I don’t think we should take this coincidence for granted. I’ll be honest: A girl like you, with all those tattoos and piercings, isn’t usually my type.”

  “And I don’t really go for the clean cut, handsome, Republican look.”

  “How’d you know I was a Republican?”

  Selena rolls her eyes. “Shit, seriously? You’re a Republican?”

  “Grand Old Party, through and through.”

  “I definitely can’t go to lunch with you now,” declares Selena.

  “Because of my political affiliation?” Matt replies. “That seems sort of close minded. Don’t you think? I would expect more from a liberal.”

  “How do you know I’m a liberal?”

  “Lucky guess,” says Matt with a smirk.

  He’s charming, Selena thinks to herself. And I am a little hungry.

  She decides to take Matt up on his offer.

  Twenty minutes later, they are sitting in a cute cafe on Melrose. Selena orders a steak salad.

  “Are you in pain?” Matt asks.

  Selena shrugs. “A little. But the doctor gave me some prescription strength ibuprofen. It’s kicking in.”

  Selena’s phone rings. It’s her uncle calling from Asia.

  “Shit, it’s my uncle. I have to get this,” she tells Matt. “Uncle Jesse! What a pleasant surprise!”

  “How’s everything going, Selena?”

  “Awesome,” Selena declares. “You don’t have to worry about anything, Uncle Jesse.” Selena knows how uptight and serious her uncle can be. She wants to make sure he has no misgivings about her staying in his house.

  “I better not have anything to worry about,” he responds. “That’s why you’re housesitting for me, right? So I don’t have to worry about my house while I’m here in Singapore.”

  “That’s right, Uncle Jesse,” she replies. “How are you doing?”

  Selena hears her uncle sigh. “I’m busy and tired,” he complains. “And missing Los Angeles. How are you doing? Have you been able to get any DJ gigs out in LA?”

  Selena nods. “A few. I’ve been working some local clubs. And the other day, I DJ’d a wedding in Santa Barbara.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad you’ve been able to get some work. Any problems with the house?”

  “Nope.”

  “I know it might get lonely staying there all by your self,” says her uncle. “If you want to invite some friends over, that’s okay. Just don’t throw any wild parties.”

  “I’m fine. But maybe I’ll invite some friends over for a barbecue one day.” Selena feels bad lying to her uncle. But if he knew she was renting out rooms in his house, he’d kill her.

  “Well, I thought I’d just call and check in on you. I’ve got to run to a meeting now. If you need anything, just call me.”

  “Will do, Uncle Jesse.”

  Selena hangs up the phone and takes a deep breath.

  “Everything, all right?” asks Matt.

  She looks at him and nods. “Yeah.” Selena then sets her phone down on the table and picks up her fork. She’s about to have a bite of steak but then looks frustrated.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Selena turns to Matt and asks, “Would you mind cutting this piece of steak? It’s a little big for me to chew.”

  Matt smirks and slides over to her side. He cuts up the slice of steak.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” he says with another grin.

  As he stares at her, Selena feels a weird feeling come over her. Is it attraction? She can’t be attracted to a Republican. Maybe it’s the medication kicking in.

  Matt moves back to his side of the table.

  Suddenly, Selena realizes something and cries out loud, “Shit!”

  “What?” Matt asks worried. “Do you need me to cut another piece of steak?”

  Selena shakes her head, looking despondent.

  “I just realized: There’s no way in hell I’m going to be able to DJ with a broken arm. I can’t lug my speakers around by myself anymore. And I’ve got a gig tomorrow. Fuck!”

  “Is there anybody who can help you?”

  Selena looks at him and admits, “I don’t really know that many people in LA. I’ve just moved here. All I’ve got are my roommates, and they seem pretty busy with their own stuff.”

  Selena explains her situation to Matt: how she’s staying at her uncle’s place, renting out a bunch of the rooms – without him knowing – to make some extra money for her touring plans.

  “I see,” says Matt with a slow nod. “Maybe I can help you out.”

  “How?”

  Matt shrugs. “I can help setup your equipment for your gig tomorrow.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know. I want to. Where’s your gig?”

  “Pasadena.”

  “What time?”

  “From 3 - 9 pm.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll pick you up, and we’ll head over to Pasadena.”

  Selena can’t believe how generous Matt is being. “You really don’t have to.”

  Matt shakes his head. “You said that already. I want to.”

  Selena then decides she should warn Matt about the gig tomorrow.

  “Do you like kids?” she asks.

  Matt leans back in his chair and takes a sip of iced-tea. He stares at her with a mischievous grin. “I’m flattered. But don’t you think you’re moving a little fast?”

  Selena rolls her eyes. “Get over yourself. My gig tomorrow is for a ten-year old’s birthday party.”

  An amused smirk spreads across his face.

  “Hey, everybody has to start somewhere,” declares Selena.

  “True,” Matt says with a nod. “Very true.”

  Chapter 19

  As I ride the bus home, after a long day of game testing, I try to collect my thoughts. But that homeless woman is staring at me, and it’s getting really irritating. Finally, I turn and look at her.

  “What?”

  “The truth must be revealed!” she exclaims. “The truth must be set free!”

  “Great. Thanks,” I tell her flatly. Then I turn around and look out the window again.

  I hear a ping from my phone. I’ve received another message from Beowulf, I mean Chad. Now that he thinks I look like Juliette, he really wants to video chat. I don’t know what to do. When I get home, I knock on Juliette’s door and tell her what I did.

  “I hope you’re not upset.”

  “I’m a webcam model,” says Juliette. “My image is all over the internet. I think the real issue is this: Why would you use my picture instead of your own?”

  “Duh, I think that’s obvious,” I blurt. I motioned toward my body. “Look at me.”

  Juliette crosses her arms and looks me up and down. “Ok. I am looking at you. Now what?”

  I roll my eyes. “I look like me and you look like… you know… you.”

  “Yes, I do look like me,” she confirms with a nod.

  “Do I have to spell this out, Juliette?” I ask a little frustrated. “Chad is cute and skinny. I’m fat and ugly. But you: You’re really hot. Not that I’m a lesbian. Obviously, I’m not. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a lesbian. Anyway, that’s not the point. Would you just do me this one humongous favor and video chat with him– just this one time. Then I’ll figure out what I’m going to do next.”

  Juliette doesn’t agree with my way of thinking. “Sooner or later, he’s going to have to find out the truth, Flo.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I know.” Then I plead, “I just want it to be later
rather than sooner. If you know what I mean?”

  Juliette finally agrees. “Okay. But what about my accent?”

  I shake my head annoyed. “Fuck! I forgot about your fuckin’ accent. No offense.”

  “None taken,” says Juliette. “I love the way I sound.”

  We decide to text Chad that I have laryngitis. So I can’t speak and can only communicate via messenger. But if he really wants to see me, I can get online whenever he’s ready. Chad replies immediately.

  While Juliette does the video chat with Chad in my room/closet, I stand outside. The space is too small for me not to be seen. Standing in the hallway, I place my ear against the door and try to listen. Since Juliette isn’t supposed to speak, and can only communicate through text, the only voice I faintly hear is Chad’s. But I’m having a hard time making out his words.

  I begin to worry, because I don’t know how Juliette will respond to his questions via text. When the chat is over, Juliette finally steps out of the room.

  “How’d it go?” I ask her nervously.

  Juliette looks at me and says, “He seems very… eager.”

  “Eager?”

  Juliette nods. “To meet,” she tells me. “He was surprised to hear that you’re living in LA.”

  My mouth drops open. “What? Why did you tell him I was in LA.?”

  Juliette looks at me surprised. “Because he said he was going to catch the next plane to Minnesota to take care of me – well, you – while you were suffering from laryngitis. I couldn’t let him go to all that trouble when you aren’t even in Minnesota.”

  “So you told him I was in LA?!”

  “Where else would I tell him you were?” Juliette asks confused.

  “Anywhere but here. He’s in LA!!!”

  Juliette smiles and nods. “I know. We made plans to meet tomorrow.”

  “You’re meeting him tomorrow?!”

  Juliette shakes her head. “Not me. You. I’m done with this charade. It’s time poor Chad knows the truth.”

  “Poor Chad?” I mutter.

  Juliette walks out of the room. Now I don’t know what to do. Suddenly, I see a text on my phone from Chad.

  Chad: Laryngitis? Why didn’t u tell me? Excited to finally meet. :)

  I freak out and respond.