by Skye Grace
“I can’t say I feel great,” she rubs her temples in search of relief; apparently drinking her memory into focus had its consequences.
“I’m sure you feel like shit, princess. But you’ve only seen me, what? A handful of times at the gym since we’ve been back in LA? Makes me think you're going soft.”
“Me? Soft? No,” she coughs and her stomach turns a little. “I’m a warrior,” she protests weakly, eliciting a huge belly laugh from Mark.
“Damn right you are, don’t sound so convinced,” he quips. “Now you better have your butt in the car in 10 minutes, or I’m calling Alexis.”
“No, don’t call her! Okay! See you soon.” She crawls out of bed and lets out a cacophony of whines and whimpers as she sees her eyes, puffy and raccoon like, while black lines and smudged glitter shadow streak all around her eyes and down her cheeks.
How can she possibly look presentable in 10 minutes, especially when standing feels like the world’s greatest feat and her head throbs relentlessly? It was going to be a very uncomfortable morning.
She attempts to tiptoe out the front door but is stopped by a sharp, “Aura! Where're you going?” Alexis has one hand on her hip, blonde hair a scraggly, puffed up bedhead disaster with red lipstick and black liner smudged in such a way that she looks like a comic book villain. She tries to hold in her laughter but can’t.
“Why are you laughing?” she asks with a scowl so comical that Aura has to rush out the door to keep from losing it.
She turns the handle, “Um, I’m not. Gotta go meet Mark, bye-”
“Aur!” Alexis shouts, looking at her friend’s hands, a cell phone in one and car keys in the other. “What use are you going to be to Mark without your gloves and mouthguard?”
Her hands shake and her stomach churns as she pulls up to ‘Mad Mark’s MMA gym.’ She’d even had to ask Alexis what MMA was while she handed Aura her gym bag filled with her pink boxing gloves, pink towel, and hot pink mouthguard. Not only did Alexis look at her like she was certifiable, but she now wishes that she could ‘un-know’ that fact, crawl back into bed, and never answer another call from Mark again.
But here she is, facing her fears, standing outside just staring at the sign, gripping a large iced coffee with extra whip and a little brown bag containing a chocolate scone and three pieces of lemon cake. Her sports bra feels too tight underneath her old Rancid t-shirt as she stands petrified yet enjoys the cooler morning temperatures while she still can, breathing in and out deeply, LA smog filling her lungs.
Maybe I can just get back in the car, she thinks, until there’s a big, bellowed, “Aura!” and a grinning, dark haired man appears, a solid 15 or so years older than her and not much taller. She can’t quite comprehend how Mark looks so much like a young Robert Deniro in Raging Bull but with better hair, so familiar yet so foreign to her.
“God Damn you look green, Grasshopper!” he says, ushering her inside the gym, a gigantic rectangular box filled mostly with rubber mats and punching bags. “I was gonna work on your spinning back kick, your sweep and your Superman, but on second thought…” He reels back from her, “You gonna throw up, hun?”
She feels like her whole body is rebelling against her, “Uh, no, I’m okay.” She looks at her mouth guard wearily, putting it up under her teeth until she can feel her gag reflex already starting up.
“No! You don’t need it… Let’s just take it really easy, okay?” He takes the mouth guard from her and puts it on a shelf. “Just put on your gloves, do your left right jabs and I’ll block, K?” She silently praises this strange man for taking mercy on her; she has no idea what any of those other moves are anyway. She can’t believe how natural it feels for to punch someone, must be muscle memory, and can’t help but smile a little.
I must really love my coach, and love this fighting stuff, for that matter.
“Okay, you’re doing good, Aur. Now I’m gonna do the same, punch my 1, 2’s at you and you’ll block.” She nods and finally brings up her left hand to block but it’s too late, Mark’s glove skates across her jaw. Her stomach lurches.
“Aur?” It’s not that it hurt…that much, but the shock makes her sick beyond refusal. She spins a 180 looking for a garbage can, Mark leads her over to it, holding onto her loose braid while she throws up.
He sighs. “You’re gonna need to eat this protein bar, go home, and come back tomorrow at 8 a.m. if you want me to continue being such a happy camper, girly.”
She nods, gagging at the idea of having to drink tomorrow to remember these moves but not seeing any other choice, hopefully only one or two sips will do.
“I can’t. I just can’t be an MMA fighter,” she whispers between rounds of emptying her stomach.
“I know you tell interviewers you do it just to stay in shape, but we both know the truth, girl,” Mark smiles so wide she can almost hear it. “You could fight the best of them.”
Aura has been asleep for a few blissful hours, white canopy over her bed billowing in the breeze coming in off the ocean through the open windows. Alexis had left her with gallons of Gatorade before leaving for the set, and she was so grateful of that fact. She feels almost human now as the knocking on her bedroom door wakes her from her peaceful slumber.
Finally, a put-off Whit just barges in wearing the most hideous, one-piece, tube top shorts jumper with orange and green paisley print that does literally nothing for her cute, curvy apple shape. It hurts Aura’s eyes and she closes them before pulling her white comforter over her face to hide from the abomination Whit calls fashion. You’re original, ugh, I get it. Now wear something that doesn’t give me a headache.
“Whit, you’re, you’re here.”
“Of course I’m here. You said you’d rather talk tomorrow, surprise pumpkin, it’s tomorrow now,” Whit explains somewhat annoyingly, plopping down on the bed next to her.
“So, we’ve decided to all wear black gowns of totally different styles. Is that too cliche? Is that okay with you? It’ll go with what you’ve picked.”
“Fine, totally fine,” she responds.
“So, wanted to run this by you… Since Cam’s on tour and the rest of you girls are single, I thought we’d all go to tomorrow’s thing sans-dates. But next weekend, New York… Cam will be in town then and, I’m sorry. Does this sound like a prissy girlfriend thing? I want him to come. And so… for that one, yes, you can bring a date. Bring like a super handsome teen drama star, even,” Whit laughs.
“You want me to bring Liam? To the other side of the country?” Aura can’t help but grin nervously despite her shock at the idea. “I’m surprised and glad you were charmed by him like I am, Whit, but he hasn’t even asked me out on a-”
Aura’s phone rings and Whit chokes on her saliva as she shows her the phone display saying that Liam is calling. Really.
“Oh my god. Okay, I’m picking up!” Aura squeals as her finger hits the green answer key. “Hello?”
“Hey Aura, how are you?” Liam sounds unnaturally bright eyed and bushy tailed, and then she remembers he’s been up and on set for hours. Probably making out with Quinn, she thinks, her stomach turning with unwarranted jealousy.
“Fine, now,” she coos, lashes fluttering until she realizes there’s no one there to witness this except for Whit, who is pretending to throw up in between goofy smiles and checks of her email.
“What are you up to today?” he asks.
“A little training at my gym this morning,” she starts, attempting badassery. “Just got some stuff, uh, done around the house. Now visiting with Whit and… that’s it so far. You?” Well, that attempt failed miserably. Ask me out. ASK ME OUT!
“I’m out of here in- Oh, Quinn says hi!”
She fakes sweetness, sugar sprinkled over her voice, “Hi Quinn!” she crows into the phone and Whit stifles a laugh.
“She says great party last night, and I agree with her. I’m out of here in an hour… Would you like to go to dinner?”
“With Quinn?”
A loud “HA!” escapes Liam before, finally, “No, Aura, just with me.”
“Oh, okay. Then yes.”
“Great, well… I’m in Studio City. Meet you at the Fisherman and the Walrus, Downtown? 7?”
“Okay,” she responds slowly, still hoping he’d pick her up. Ugh. why did they have to buy a house so out of the way of everything? She takes a quick peek out the picture window and takes a deep breath as the waves crash down on the beach. Okay, I get it, she sighs.
“See you then,” Liam says in a tone she finds promising before mimicking his goodbye and ending the call.
Whit is already picking out some hipstery outfit choices to match Liam’s restaurant choice when Aura comes down from her cloud and remembers what she had wanted to tell Whit last night.
“Whit, are we here to talk about Season 5?” she asks, memories of last night’s concerns are a blur, I just know I can’t go back to New York. Not for Season 5, not right now. That’s the last thing I want.
“Yes,” Whit whips around and sits in front of her on the bed, tank tops and flannels flying everywhere.
“Aur, I was a horrible friend. Yelling at you for buying a house here, bitching at you for wanting a break. I thought you were jeopardizing everything we’ve built. But I get it now. The book’s coming out in a few weeks, and I want to do a full book tour.”
Aura glances over at the advance copy of Whit’s memoir on her nightstand and tries to remember if she’s read it yet. Why did she already write a memoir? She’s not even thirty yet, she asks herself with a grumble. But if it means I don’t have to leave LA, I’m for it. There’s magic here, in the hills, in the warm nights on the beach. She doesn’t know how she knows, she just does. Whatever amazing things that are going to happen to me can’t, not if I leave here.
“I’ve already talked it over with the network, and they want Season 5 and 6, Aur. We’ve signed ourselves away for those, two more, babe. They’ve gotta happen, they’re gonna happen. But, I’ve talked them into allowing a hiatus. It will give us a few extra months before we have to start up again, time for my book tour, time for you to kiss heartthrobs or whatever you want to do, a movie even? A slasher flick for prepubescents? Whatever your little heart desires, okay?”
Aura releases a small sigh of relief. Whit wanting a break as much as she does, it’s a huge surprise. This, I was not expecting. Guess we can add bipolar to Whit’s list of diagnoses, but I’m grateful anyway. The bitter thought doesn’t feel completely hers, and she realizes the voice isn’t really, but rather the Aura that she can’t wait to rid herself of, if a remedy for that actually exists. She realizes how badly she needs to stay here, in this form if not a more positive version of it, not the crabby backstabber popping into her mind, the self-saboteur. She needs to stay here and work the magic she can feel inside the fibers of her being; coming here was not an accident or a coincidence of any kind.
She throws herself onto Whit, wrapping her arms around her with a little squeal. “Thank you! Thank you!” she whispers into her friend’s hair, Thank you for allowing my magic.
Zipping down 1 she eventually gets slowed down by the traffic on La Cienega and her hands begin to tingle anxiously, foot tapping between the clutch and the brake unnecessarily. Her hair, which has been flowing freely in the breeze, begins to fall flat as she slows and her mind begins racing, her attempts to recall where she’d gone wrong finding love before come up empty handed. Instead, she focuses on taking deep breaths and thinking about Liam.
He’s the same age as her, maybe even a few months younger, and yet he’s so put together and responsible, and somehow not boring. He’s so fun and so likeable; Why does the idea of dating a guy all my girlfriends love drive me crazy? It’s gotta be because it’s never happened before…
From the corner of her eye, Aura sees a camera aimed at her after she steps out of her car and hands the keys to the valet. She ducks into the restaurant as quickly as she can and Liam spots her right away. He stands to greet her, smiling the widest grin she’s ever seen him make. He looks at her as if all his prayers have been answered, and she can’t help but wonder why he never looked at Quinn that way.
“Did I tell you how hipster this place is? Or do you just… always dress that way?” Liam laughs as he wraps his arms around her, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. The blue button up he is wearing brings out the azure of his eyes as he jokingly mocks Aura’s current style. It’s true, Whit had dressed her up head to toe in the skinniest black jeans, black sneakers, an oversized cream colored sweater with a flannel around her waist, wayfarers and a slouchy gray beanie over her long, straightened locks.
Aura laughs in response, “This outfit, the place, it all makes me a little homesick. But don’t think I’d be quite so sweltering wearing this back home in Seattle.”
“You miss Seattle?” he asks as they sit, sipping a glass of artesian well water.
“Sometimes,” she smiles coyly. “What about the mid-west? Do you miss it?”
“There isn’t much to miss,” Liam laughs, eyes sparkling. “Thankfully my mom and sister moved out here to be close to me. I’d probably lose my mind if they weren’t here.”
After they order their craft beers and their octopus and pork belly tacos, Liam begins to tell her about his mother and his charity, which are not only linked but also seem to be his biggest passions besides acting and traveling. Something pushes at the back of her mind as he talks; she knows who she’s reminded of but refuses to think it. Did Sebastian talk about himself this much? His charities, the benefits? Ugh, I thought about it. Pretty sure he did. And then some.
“My mom had been struggling with Elanis for 3 years when we realized we were in the right place to start the charity, which soon became the foundation.”
Aura nods as if she’s totally heard of such disease many times yet has very little clue. Something to do with attacking the immune system?
“My sister’s away a lot, modeling, and so that left my mom and I running it on our own, until we were able to hire a couple full time employees, and then it just really took off.”
“You care a lot about her, don’t you? Your mom?” Aura asks, and Liam smiles in response.
“Of course, she’s my best friend, and I’m very passionate about finding a cure. It’s kind of funny, all of us on the show, we’re all very close with our families. What about you, close with yours?”
She quickly takes a sip of beer and her chest swells as she gets the feeling, the memory of how proud her parents have been of her over the past ten years. She knows there’s so many supportive and possibly even clingy things they’ve done since, but she can’t seem to think of the particulars.
Why can’t I think of those memories? She asks herself, and the older, wiser version answers: You can drink the potion, it makes you think, but seeing, feeling, hearing, that’s what makes the memories, Aura. She can practically hear the voice ringing in her ears, and ponders how the merging of both of these Auras would help everything make sense. But how?
Liam feels a little antsy when she doesn’t respond right away, “Oh, wrong topic?” His voice snaps her right out of it.
“No, no! I love my parents. I think they’d move to Malibu in a heartbeat if I let them!” she says jovially, relief spreading across Liam’s face.
“It’s good to have space,” he agrees. “If my mom didn’t need me so much right now, she’d be in Nebraska and I’d get to have some too. But it’s working right now, and the foundation is really helping a lot of people so it’s a symbiotic relationship. It just works,” Liam continues while she muses how good it must feel to help others, improve their lives, and immediately puts it on her list of things to do in this new life.
She tries her hardest to listen to him, keep up with the conversation, or even take notes on this whole Elanis thing, but she can’t. He’s just so beautiful, she thinks, before she can remember that Inner-Aura had warned her of this before… They’re all beautiful, Aura. She worries about her history of distra
ctions and tries to think of what that means, until their entrees are brought to them and conversation turns to their mutual adoration of food and all is right again.
Dinner is winding down when Liam reaches halfway across the table and twists his fingers through hers. She swears she’d faint if she wasn’t already sitting. How very damsel of you, Inner-Aura snarks, but she knows every part of her wants to be with Liam. Or, at least, it seemed that way last night. She takes a sip of beer with her free hand and rakes over her brain, trying hard to remember if she’s ever felt this way about anyone else before.
“So, Season 4… I’m not the only one dying to see it! Is Alexis your date for tomorrow’s premiere?” Liam asks with a smirk.
Oh! He knows about it. He watches my show religiously. I didn’t think any guys watched this thing, Oh God.
“Not quite! No dates tomorrow, just the girls.”
“Okay, I was wondering, because she said she was going and asked if I was too.”
“Well, I have a lot of tickets. I’m so lucky to have her, always supporting me. I…” Aura feels herself freeze.
She eyes the avant garde dessert the server brought her with a raised eyebrow, as if she was shocked at the idea of an LA actress actually eating carbs. She hastily digs her fork through the layers of foam and ganaches and takes the largest bite she can manage. As soon as her mouth is clear, the words find their way in.
“Do you want to join me, I mean her? For the viewing? And join us for the party afterwards?” she asks, holding her breath.
“Of course, Aura! How could I not?” he chuckles, perfect white teeth gleaming.
“Good,” she sighs with a grin. “Yeah, Whit said no dates this weekend, but next weekend in New York… dates. We’re all supposed to bring dates, it’s kind of a thing at this point I guess.”
“Really? The New York premiere is next weekend, huh?”
She nods in response, slowly, hesitantly, “A week from tomorrow. Did Alexis mention that, too?”
