Happily Ever After? (Sleeping Handsome Sequel) (3 page)

Nodding as expected, I
watch her sew. Long dresses and a variety of leather surround us. I
never imagined wearing such costumes, but I do daily.
Valkyrie
is an
adaptation of Norse Mythology centered on Brynhild, a Norse god
turned warrior chick. From what I could tell from Wikipedia—that
was as far as my research went—she was a god condemned to live as a
human when she pissed a bigger god off. The beginning of her story
is similar to
Sleeping
Beauty
. Instead of a wall of thorns, a
wall of fire encased her in a castle. And like Briar Rose she was
awoken by her true love. Rather than waking her with a kiss, he
took her helmet off—yeah romantic. And from there everything falls
to crap. No happy ending for Bryn.

Of course, the movie doesn’t follow
the original mythology. In fact, after a few skirmishes, a big
battle, liberty won for the peasants, and the death of the witch
and her man stealing bitch of a daughter—me—Bryn gets her man. I’m
totally stoked about the death scene. What actor doesn’t aspire to
conquer such a scene at least once?

Zoe flattens the skirt with a heavily
ringed hand. “Tisk, tisk, wearing your makeup out?”

I touch my face. My skin feels
leathery. “No. I just forgot.” Usually I scrub my face after
reading Zach’s email, but today’s message threw me out of my daily
routine. “Guess I’m getting used to the layer of goop on my
skin.”

“
Oh, your skin needs to
breathe.” She pulls the thread out and stabs the fabric again. “So
you can be fresh and lovely for another layer of paint tomorrow.”
She smiles and shakes her head. “I could never be a makeup artist,
but that Jane is an absolute wizard. She can be a bit of a menace
if she doesn’t get her way. We’ve gotten into dozens of arguments
already. Could be that I’m a Gemini and she’s a Capricorn, but our
visions between makeup and wardrobe don’t always synchronize. And
sometimes her team keeps you too long in the chair. We do need time
to dress you,” she says in a huff.

I wince at the thought of that chair
as Zoe methodically stabs. Getting my face made up at the butt
crack of dawn is the worst part of the job. But I don’t want to
take sides between the makeup and wardrobe people so I try to
change the subject. “So how long have you been designing
costumes?”

“
For movies?” The soft
swoosh of her thread sounds as I nod. She leans in and frowns at a
stitch before answering. “Over fifteen years. I tried the
runway-designing thing early on. I’m just too flamboyant.” She
laughs and uses a hand to display her brightly colored outfit.
“Costumes and I complement each other.”

“
And um, family…husband?”
Though somewhat twisted, I’d like to know I’m not the only one
wallowing in misery each night.

She shakes her head.
“Divorced.”

Oh great, leave it to me to bring that
up. “Sorry.”

“
No worries, darling.” She
reaches for the scissors on the table and her long multi-colored
sleeve flutters. “We’re still friends, but between our careers
there just wasn’t enough time or energy left for marriage. He’s a
sound editor and a competent one at that.”

Her words leave a tight knot in my
chest. She’s just written my fears on the door. Or is it ceiling?
Maybe wall? Whatever. Zach and I can weather this distance. And
time. And career thing. Right? Yes. I firmly tell myself. “It’s
good you’re still friends,” I somehow squeak out from my
anxiety-clenched throat.

She cuts and sighs. “Sometimes I wish
we were still married. He’s got himself a non-career wife and a
baby now. The wife’s a bit bland but the baby is adorable. So I’m
happy for him. I don’t have time for a family.” She snips a string
and glances at me. “You know how it is.”

I nod, but I don’t know. I’m eighteen.
I haven’t thought about having a family since I was eight and
playing with Barbie dolls. Back then, I wanted to have a minimum of
six kids, two dogs, a cat, and a pet Iguana. Geez, I was a weird
kid.

“
Some of us are able to
juggle a career and family. Joan has three little darlings.” She’s
referring to the actor playing the witch in the movie. “And kudos
to her. I couldn’t handle the stress.” She eyeballs another stich
up close before straightening. “Or perhaps I’m just too selfish
with my time.”

Is this my future? Tied to my career
and afraid of commitments?

“
That Joan is a wonderful
mother. Flies the kids and the nanny here on the weekends, even if
we continue working.” She rolls her eyes and puts out a hand
covered with silver rings. “Have no doubt, you’ll see them running
around the set come tomorrow.”

Though the movie has been in
production for over a month—they already did all the battle scenes
in Germany somewhere—I didn’t need to come until now since I’m not
in any of the battles. But the idea of flying my kids to a foreign
country on the weekends to spend time with them seems
sad.

“
Now that Mark,” she says,
referring to the lead actor of the movie. “I don’t think he has
seen his kids since his ghastly divorce. Get caught cheating and
the press won’t let—”

A knock sounds on the door in the
other suite.

“
Ah the tea.” She snips
the thread. “Would you get that, darling?” She doesn’t wait for me
to answer. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

With my head spinning—I love acting
but the ramifications of such a career are slowly seeping into me—I
go to the door while wondering just what I’ve gotten myself
into.

~4~

Zach

The stale smell of day old Taco Bell
hits my nose as I walk through the door. Someone, mostly likely me,
needs to take out the trash. The apartment has smelled worse. One
night after Drake threw a party the sour smell of beer and puke
lingered for days, even after I scrubbed the crap out of the
carpet. There are definitely times I remember living with my
parents with fondness. Almost always at dinner. Ramen gets old. So
does lunchmeat. Heck, even Taco Bell. A home cooked meal would hit
the spot.

My mother offers all the time, but I
rarely go home. My father has been civil, even agreeable since I
woke up from my coma. Yet the desolation that hangs on him and is
part of him now is just too much to bear. Following my dreams of
being a writer and giving up a football scholarship broke his
dreams. When we’re in the same room, regret and sorrow fill the
space. My decision will always stand and it always come between
us.

At the sound of my gym bag
hitting the front closet floor, my roommate glances over his
shoulder. “Dude, you wanna play?” Drake asks, standing in front of
a big screen TV and ruthlessly pressing a video game controller.
The pulled blinds encase the room in gray. However, I can still see
he’s wearing boxers and a baseball cap. As if the backwards hat
makes him dressed.
Working together then
both looking for a roommate, I thought sharing an apartment made
sense. Living with him doesn’t always make sense.

I flop down on the couch, the only
piece of furniture in the room other than an assortment of lawn
chairs. I should go change out of my gym outfit, a red polo and tan
shorts, and grab some lunch but I’m feeling too lazy. “Maybe later,
Paige should be calling soon.” I’ll probably end up playing. With
my homework done and the rest of my day free, there’s not much else
to do. Maybe I’ll read. My writing lately borders on emo. I’ve
almost filled a notebook with sad and wistful metaphors. If Paige
were here…Shit, it’s been less than a week and I miss her already.
I can’t wait for her to call, but I’m dreading it too. She’s not
going to like my latest news.

“
Bro, you are so whipped,”
Drake declares as if reading my mind. The mass of his curly hair
ringing the cap shakes with his head.

So I’m lost without my girlfriend. If
he had someone like Paige and she was gone, he’d be a wreck too.
Watching him attack the enemy on the screen with a kick to the
face, I ask, “When’s the last time you had a
girlfriend?”

“
Like sixth grade. Outside
of the bedroom, I’m a one-man show. Too many hotties out there to
choose just one. Paige’s one classy lady and I can see why you’re
dedicated but that ain’t me.”

“
Maybe you just have
commitment issues.”

Drake snorts.

“
Or you like being an ass
to women.”

“
I’m an ass to everyone,
but I always let the ladies know I’m not into the dating
thing.”

“
Or you’re scared of
getting hurt.”

“
Don’t go all Freudian on
me, asshole.” He lays a combination of punches on the guy on the
screen while I laugh. His skinny punk ass couldn’t do shit in real
life. “You see the new girl they hired at the gym?”

My laughter dies as I cross my arms.
“Yeah, I saw her.”

He jumps up and down, moving with his
player. “Balls Batman, she is smoking.”

I don’t want to have this
conversation. “Heard she’s sorta of a bitch.”

“
Like I care. Like I
wanna
talk
with
her. Like I wanna even like her.”

Still not wanting to have this
conversation, I grab the controller on the couch. I’ve never been
much of a gamer, but living with Drake has sucked me in. “Pause it
and let me log in.”

“
Sure thing.” He grabs a
Mountain Dew from the top of a speaker. “Halfsies on pizza
tonight?”

“
As long as it’s not from
Three Brothers.”

“
What?” He throws his arm
out. “Brothers is the shizit.”

“
Shit is
right.”

“
Fine. We can get
Tony’s.”

My phone rings with the soft melody
connected to Paige’s number. I toss the joystick down and stand.
“Catch you in about an hour.”

Drake makes kissing sounds, moans, and
whispers about phone sex as I walk to my room. As usual, I ignore
him. “Hey baby,” I answer near my door.

“
Wow. Just hearing your
voice hurts.” She sounds wistful yet lonely. I imagine the fine
crease between her brows. Imagine wiping it away with my
touch.

“
Rough day?” I shut the
door with my foot.

“
Kinda,” she says and
laughs in the phone. “I kept screwing up this one line. Six takes
later, I was a bit embarrassed even though the director was very
patient with me. I’ve only got like ten lines. Most of the time I’m
backdrop. So yeah, I felt like Paige the idiot.”

I fall onto my bed. There’s not enough
space in my room for more than a bed, dresser, and bookshelves. I
left my trophy collection at home. My dad likes them more than me.
“Nobody expects you to be perfect.”

She laughs. “I do.”

I glance at the corkboard
on my wall covered with pictures of her smiling face. Many from her
various plays. “Well yeah, that’s why you
are
pretty much perfect.”

She groans. “My perfection coming from
the most impartial party,” she says sarcastically. “So how is
training going?”

I’m relieved she hasn’t brought up my
email, but I can hear the tension in her cheery voice. The question
is coming. “Good. I should be forcing clients through reps by next
week.”

“
You know,” she says and I
imagine her twirling her hair while in contemplation. “You could
keep your old job. We could move in together and I could cover
rent. Or I could give you a loan.”

“
Paige…” I say stunned and
humiliated by both offers.

“
Why are either of those a
bad idea?”

“
Well one, I’m not taking
a loan from my girlfriend. We’re in love. Money destroys love. Two,
you belong with your family. Your mother and sister would be
crushed if you moved out. And you just graduated. You’re starting a
career. Moving in together for monetary reasons is a bad, bad
idea.” I run a hand over my face at the sound of her silence.
“Besides, I thought you wanted to take our relationship slow, let
it build. Moving in together would make that mute. I have a hard
enough time keeping my hands to myself.”

She sighs into the phone. “I do want
to take things slow. Let them progress…naturally, but I want you to
write. I want what’s best for you.”

My eyes close at her generosity.
Paige’s heart is just too big. “What about what’s best for you? For
us?”

“
How will you be happy
working forty hours at a gym?”

“
I’ll still take nine
credits a semester and six over the summer. It might take an extra
half a year to graduate. Maybe a whole year. But like I wrote,
that’s not a big deal.”

“
What about your
scholarship?”

“
As long as I get in
twenty-four credits a year, I’m good.”

“
Um okay, if things don’t
work out, will you’ll keep my suggestions in mind?”

I sigh. “I’ll try and give them some
reflection. I just don’t think moving in together so soon is a good
solution. Doing something like that should be about us not me and
my finances.”

“
Yeah, okay. So…what’s
this news you couldn’t share in an email?”