“Yeah, honestly.”
“Promise you won’t get mad?”
“Why would I get mad at something you think? That has nothing to do with me.”
“Okay…good point…and very Buddhist of you, too, by the way. Well, I thought you were, like, studying for a role or something with me. Like, some sort of urban, common people study, like you needed to experience the real world for a part you have to play. Like you’re practicing on me, with me, like,‘slummin’ it to learn how to be real.”
He frowns and turns back to her, realizing her words did hurt him.“Do you think I’m acting? Really?”
“I think everybody’s acting. All the time. But they do it subconsciously. I’m wondering if you’re doing it consciously. I mean, like, why else would you be here?”
“It couldn’t possibly be because you’re that interesting, right? That an up and coming movie star would want to spend the day fucking around in a check cashing place or at a grimy pool hall just to spend some time with you.”
“Exactly!”
“You need to work on your self-confidence.”
She laughs, a genuine, beautiful laugh that melts away his defenses. “You’re right, I do. But I still don’t see how slumming it with me can possibly be more fascinating than hanging out in luxury with beautiful people, doing whatever you want, whenever you want.”
“Ah, I see. That’s the problem! You have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“What? Yes, I do. I see it. Everybody sees it. The glamorous life is everywhere you look, especially in this town. It’s hard not to see.”
“No, what you see is what they wantyou to see. They need to make it look glamorous and luxurious so that you envy it, crave it, distract yourself with it while you wait in your lines and struggle with your bills and work shitty jobs. But that’s not how it is. I can’t even walk into a fucking Starbucks without getting approached or have lunch with an old friend or my own mom without people asking me constantly for pictures on their fucking iPhones. I have to have security whenever I stay at hotels or go on vacation. And I never go on vacation because I have to constantly work or be forgotten. I haven’t stopped working since I started. Women fucking love me, they wantme, but they have no idea who or what I really am, they just see me playing the man of their dreams and fall in love because most men are fucking broken and shit from their suffocating lives. But I’m suffocating,too, I’m no different, really. Poked and prodded, take after take, suffocated under the weight of what I’m supposed to be so that everyone else can pretend to beme, until I just don’t fucking exist in the first place for anyone.”
He falls quiet, embarrassed by his outburst, his heart pounding, his cheeks flushed, he understands it will be a lot harder than he thought to navigate through this shit again. It’s only the beginning and I’m fucking up, he thinks, his phone vibrating against his leg.
“You’re right,” he smiles, instantly and flawlessly regaining his composure. “I guess I just wanted to experience the real world through you for a little bit, like a normal person. At the moment, it seems like paradise in comparison.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, softly. “That sounds awful.”
“No, no it’s not. It’s not all bad. I get to do a lot of wonderful things because of it. I have a lot of freedoms most people will never know. I’m rich as fuck. And I love my job, I love acting. It’s like...solving a puzzle or something, making something come to life and I just get obsessed with it until it makes me a little crazy, I think. I'm not-Look, I’m sorry. Thanks for listening. I don’t-I don’t really say things like this, ever. I’ve had a lot of fun with you today and I’m really just-grateful.”
She smiles and pats his leg.“Oh, it’s not over yet, hon.”
They stop at the mechanic shop and it is the first time Julian has sensed hesitation from Alice. She sits in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel, peering in towards the cars. Hip hop pours from a radio in a rhythmic thud from the shop. There are cars in each of the garage slots, men moving slowly about them in blue jumpers as they yell to one another. They look up to the Prius and study its occupants. One of them calls for Anthony, who is working on her car.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah…let’s get this over with,” she grumbles, leaping out of the car.
Anthony moves from behind her car, along with two other men who glare at Julian. His jumpsuit stretches over his long, thick frame, his sleeves rolled up to expose tattoos stretching down to his grease covered wrists and hands. He is handsome, with a gray streaked pompadour and a matching scruff of a beard. His large eyes roll over Alice and then move to Julian, narrowing as he puffs up even larger.
“Who’s this?" he asks, jerking his head without breaking eye contact.
“This is Bobby. Bobby, this is Anthony,” she mumbles, completely void of the confidence and self-assuredness he had seen in her until then.
Anthony takes Julian’s hand in his strong grip, holding it a little too long. Julian instinctively swells and scowls, instantly becoming the man’s superior. Anthony looks away and releases his hand.
“Your starter’s gone, Al. I told you 6 months ago it was going,” he says.
“Yeah, I know. I didn’t have the money then.”
“Yeah, well you better have it now. This shit ain’t free no more."
She stares at him, and then at his brothers. “You guys are being ridiculous. I'm telling your mom.”
“My mom ain’tgot nothing to do with this,” Anthony says. “This is business. You want me to fix your car, you have to pay.”
“How much?”
“150.”
“150. Are you kidding?”
“No, that’s how much it is. Parts and labor.”
“Labor?”
“Yeah, labor. As in, I’m laboring over your bullshit and it costs money this time. Like I said, I’m running a business here.”
“A hundred.”
The brothers behind him hiss and shake their heads. She ignores them, staring into Anthony’s unwavering eyes.
“Now who’s kidding, ey.”
“Anthony, that’s all I got right now. A hundred and I’ll get you the rest next check.”
“This ain’ta charity, mama.”
“Don’t call me‘mama.’ I know it’s not, I’m asking for a favor.”
Anthony snorts, glancing back at his brothers who smirk. “A favor? You’re asking me for a favor. YOU?”
“Yeah.”
“You got a lot of nerve asking me for anything.”
“Don’t start, Anthony.”
“You’re the one who started this. I still can’t breathe out of my left nostril, girl.” He turns to Julian and jerks his head up. “You her new boyfriend?”
“No. She’s my friend.”
“Oh, oh, I see. ‘Friend’, huh? Like, you’re her friend she tells everything to, right?”
“Anthony! Will you just take the money-”
“So then she told you what she did, right?” He points his middle finger to the crook in his nose. “Broke my goddamn nose!”
Julian fights off his smile and turns away, pulling his hat down.
“Yeah, and why did I break it? You want to tell him why?!”
“’Cuzyou two don't know how to effectively communicate without getting all crazy!” His brother shouts from behind him, laughing with the others.
“Ey, shut up, Alejandro,” Anthony says, holding up a hand. “Mind your business. Al, you come around here, asking me for favors, for this and that, but only when you want something, right? You use me,girl, and I don’t hear shit from you otherwise. And then you show up here with this pinché, guerro boyfriend, asking me to fix that piece of shit car againfor free? Come on!”
“First off, again, he’s not my boyfriend. And second, Anthony, this isn't the time or place. We both know you're gonna fix it. Stop embarrassing me."
“Fine, right, okay, give me the money, you get your car tomorrow.”
> “Anthony…”
“No, it’s cool. You’re right. You’re always right. Give me the money and you get it tomorrow.”
Alice sighs and hands him fifty.
“Where’s the rest?”
“I’ll get it to you tomorrow, when I get the car.”
Anthony licks his lips, as his brothers roll their eyes and saunter back to the shop, knowing he is defeated despite all his big talk. “You come to my house tomorrow, with the money, and you pick up your car.”
“What?!No way!”
He holds up his hands, unmoved. “Nope, no. You will. You will come over,you will come in and say hi to Mama. She misses you, she asks about you all the time. It’s selfish you don’t call her nomore. And you will visit with Felicia. She hasn’t seen you in months, either. You owe her that. You can’t just cut her out of your life because you don’t wannasee me, that’s fucked up.”
Alice rolls her eyes and he stares at her. “Okay, fine. Tomorrow. But only for them.”
“That’s fine. See you then.” He glares one last time at Julian before turning back towards his brothers.
“You can drive now,” she sighs, tossing him the keys and slouching down into the passenger seat.
“Who’s Felicia? Your daughter?” Julian asks.
“Hell no! Felicia’s his fucking Chihuahua.”
Julian laughs and starts the car, flooring it as they peel away.
“Are you hungry? I’m starved,” she says, stretching and wrapping her arms up under her hair, letting it fall in a lazy pile around her shoulders.
“Yeah, I could eat. Where you wannago?”
“Oooo! My choice?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Anywhere I want? Any fancy place I want? ‘Beverly Hills’ fancy, even?”
He laughs. “Sure, why not.”
“Okay! Take me to a place the stars go.”
They sit up at Griffith Observatory, picking through their vegetarian sandwiches and sipping their drinks, watching the sunset. She frowns at him and down at her healthy food.
“This is where the stars go?”
“It isan observatory,” he smiles, giving her his pickles.
She snorts and bites into the sandwich, instantly making a sour face at the healthy taste of sprouts.
“I like this place. It’s kind of quiet. I use to come here all the time before…before,” he shrugs.
“This is what the stars eat? Blech.”
“It’s what you eat when you have a shoot coming up and you start training 6AM tomorrow, four hours a day, six days a week.”
“Are you serious? Really?”
He nods, chewing through the sandwich, staring over the city. "Yeah...this role is...very important. I really like the character but I'm gonna have a hard time, I can feel it..."
"Why?"
"I don't know. Usually I just do my homework and spend time creating who I'm going to be. But this guy...he's different. Well, no, maybe that's the opposite. He's too familiar. And it scares me a little. I don't know how to get ready for it. So...I guess I'm gonna work out like crazy and starve myself until I figure it out."
“My gawd…I would so not make it even a week. I think I would hack off my arm and bar-b-queit after three days if I had to eat shit like this.”
“It’d be the most expensive bar-b-queyou ever ate. My arms are worth millions right now.”
“Jesus, you’re right. I never thought of it that way. That’s weird, your body parts are a commodity.”
He smiles and stares out over the city, his face hidden still beneath the cap and glasses he has worn all day.
“Can you do me a favor?” she asks.
“Of course.”
“Can you take off the disguise?”
He tugs off the glasses and hat, squinting at her, the bright, blue eyes piercing her with their casual gaze. He looks immediately lighter, young and almost childlike, and then, with a dangerous twist of his brow he becomes the face she was once familiar with, but could never see him as again. She smiles a long, slow smile and tussles his hair. He laughs and sheepishly runs a hand over his hair.
“God, you’re unreal! How can you even stand it?” She laughs.
He smiles and throws a carrot stick at her. She throws her pickle at him and they squeeze into one another for a second, giggling like children.
“What am I going to do?” he mumbles, plucking the flaccid carrot from his lap and examining it.
She pulls away and sips her drink, studying the homes around them, imagining, as she tended to do with big homes, the people inside and their lives. How they sauntered through flawless rooms with wine glasses, everything in the perfect spot, every luxury accommodating them. How they came to acquire such home and lives. She always gets to the part where she tries to imagine herself as one of them before she realizes it could never happen, she would never fit, the people that live in these homes are the people she serves. It occurs to her that he could easily be one of them, one of the people she serves day in and day out without ever really being a part of their lives. He feels her distance, and an ache races through him, imagining her vanish as the fog of his impending life rolls in.
“Do you want a job?”
She bites into her sandwich and chews it thoughtfully, as if she hadn’t heard the question or recognized the uncanny relevance it had to her thought process.
“I mean,do you want a real job? I don’t-I think I need someone like you around.”
“You want me to work for you?”
“Yeah.”
“You could have me around. We could be friends. I don’t have to work for you.”
“No…it…I don’t really have many friends. I told you, all I do is work. I'm all over the place, all the time. The friends I have, I see every once in awhile and-and I know you would just get lost in the shuffle. I don’t want that to happen. If you worked for me…”
She laughs and nods. “If I worked for you, I’d be in the shuffle all the time, too.”
“Exactly.”
“What would I do?”
“Well, uh…I guess…remember CeCe?”
“Your secretary.”
“Right. Well, you’d work under her. You’d be my personal assistant.”
“Wait, you want me to pick up your dog shits!”
“Yeah! NO! I want you to just, help me, you know. In daily things. Running errands like we did today, but they would be my errands. Helping me make decisions. Just-being with me, you know, help me keep current, help me keep on top of current events, politics, world news, music and books and shit like that.”
She swallows her bite and looks at him. “That sounds pretty good, actually. Do I get benefits?”
“Sure.”
“How much would I make?”
“I don’t know…CeCe deals with that stuff. But off the top of my head, I would promise no less than 40.”
Her jaw drops, quivering slightly, her eyes widen. “A year?”
“Yeah, is that too little? I’m sure we could get you more. And I’ll make sure you have a good car. It’d be leased, but it’d be yours.”
“Okay, really? Are you being for reals?”
“Yes! I mean it! Do you want to do it?”
“When would I start?”
“Tomorrow?
“Tomorrow? No way, I can't! I have to give my two weeks at Healthy.”
He chuckles and then sees her deeply concerned expression. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously! What if this doesn’t work out? I have a career there. I don’t want to burn any bridges.”
“Yeah, okay, no, that makes sense. But…if it didn’t work, for whatever reason, I would make sure you were set up somewhere else.”
“Yeah, you say that now but you don’t know me all that well.”
He chews thoughtfully. “I feel like I know you pretty well after today.”
She laughs, her sharp, seal laugh, catching him off guard. “No, you don’t. And I haven’t seen hardly any bit of the r
eal you yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“You barely just took off that stupid hat! I have no idea who you are!”
“Yeah, you do, come on.”
“No…what if you’re a total jerk?”
“I’m not!” he laughs.
“What if, okay, what if, say, you worked out for like, ten hours, and you come in exhausted and starving and all stinkpot, and I’m sitting in front of your giant TV, watching reality cook off shows and eating a gigantic, monster plate of waffles, covered in syrup?”
“I’d probably go ballistic, pin you down and suffocate you with my stink and steal your waffles.”
“See, there, that’s what I’m talking about! That’s exactly the crisis situation I’m afraid of! I know, for a fact, that fit fanatics are insane!! I deal with them on a daily basis. All that wheatgrass and spirulinamakes you bat shit neurotic!”
He chews his sandwich, grinning at her and she at him.
“How can anyone resist? I guess it’s a risk I’ll just have to take.”
3.
“Green Super Fit?” Trina calls, completely exasperated from her smoothie duty. “Green Super Fit? Did anyone order a Green Super Fit?”
“Me! Trina, it’s mine!”
Trina’s miserable scowl softens and becomes a radiant smile under her baseball cap as Alice races up to the counter, pushing through a sea of yoga pants and muscle shirts.
“Alice! They didn’t tell me it was for you! I wouldn’t have spit in it!” she smiles.
“Aw, and risk missing a daily dose of vitamin T? No way!” Alice beams, hugging her friend over the counter. “What’s up, lady? How you livin’?”
“Living the dream,” she sighs, ignoring the looks of reproach from the neglected customers. “Ever since you left, it’s been a total cluster fuck here. They still haven’t replaced you.”
“And they never will. I’m irreplaceable. Nobody juices wheatgrass like me, girl, I thought you knew!” Alice laughs.
“Oh, I know. Speaking of which, don’t you usually make your man’s shakes? Why you here?”
“I’m running late. I was up all night working on that painting for Anthony’s sister. Her baby’s birthday is Saturday.”
“Oh yeah! So you’re going?”
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