Vexed

by Phoenyx Slaughter

  “Maybe.”

  She sighs. We talk a little longer and then hang up.

  I didn’t want to tell her the reason I hesitated about coming home is because gas is crazy-expensive. Wait. Make that, everything is expensive. Luxuries like road trips home might have to be put on hold. After only a few days out here, I realized if I didn’t find a job I’d run through my cushion of money fast.

  Guess what? The thousands of other wannabe actors stuffed into this city already have jobs. No one wants to hire an eighteen-year-old girl with no experience. At least I have my high school diploma, one person told me. It put me in the top fifty percent of the pile.

  Yay, me.

  It’s embarrassing how big of a mistake I made.

  I keep telling myself I’m on the right track. I’ve readjusted my expectations—more than once. I’m enrolled in a class with a great acting coach. Although, on the first day he told us “You can never control the opportunities, but you can control the readiness.” Those words hit my stomach like a mule’s hoof.

  I’m not ready for any of this.

  I really am the stupid little girl everyone keeps saying I am.

  “Honey, L.A. is a cruel bitch. She will spit you out and send you back to whence you came if you do not come to her one hundred percent committed,” my new friend, Elliot, says with a lot of head shaking and finger wagging, when I explain my plans to him after our How to Audition class. He’s the first person, besides Roxy and my acting coach, who hasn’t either ignored me or insulted me.

  “I thought I was committed.”

  “They all think that.”

  “Thanks.”

  He asks if I want to go out and insists I should be dating too. But my heart isn’t in it.

  “Is it a guy? Tell me it’s about a guy.”

  “Sort of. I started something before I came out here and just up and left.” Good God, it sounds even worse when I say it out loud.

  “I want to hear everything.”

  I don’t have a chance because as we walk into my apartment, it’s clear it’s one of those nights. Roxy’s entertaining a number of her rough-looking friends again. Some of them wear vests with patches, similar to Romeo’s, so it makes me miss him even more. These guys are nothing like Romeo and Dante, though. While yes, Romeo’s pretty crude, I never felt unsafe around him. Quite the opposite.

  These guys, though? They’re more like boys pretending to be hardened men, instead of actual men.

  Elliot hesitates inside the door.

  “Who’s the queer, Athena?” the least charming of the bunch, Snake, calls out.

  The guys catcall and make a bunch of nasty comments, and my cheeks burn with shame. I don’t want Elliot to think these are the kind of people I associate with.

  “Uh, these are my roommate’s friends,” I tell him, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

  He seems to acknowledge that with a single nod. “I’m gonna go, honey. I don’t care for the way Miss Congeniality over there keeps staring at me,” he says, indicating Snake.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  When we’re outside, I offer a lame apology, but Elliot stops me.

  “Are you sure you’re safe there? It looks like one big STD petri dish going on.”

  I snort at the joke because I’ve had similar thoughts. No judgment, but Roxy gets around. Good for her and all, but the guys are sleazy and treat her like crap, so I don’t understand the appeal.

  “Yeah, none of them bother me.”

  “Well, if it ever gets bad, don’t hesitate to come over. I’ve got a couch and you’re welcomed to it anytime.”

  “Thanks.” My eyes well up and Elliot shakes his head. “Save that for the camera, honey.”

  “Oh, shit. We’re supposed to be at rehearsal.”

  Elliot had gotten me my first “role.” Had I not listened carefully the first day of class, I would have laughed when his friend offered me the part. It pays nothing and the rehearsal time has been significant, considering how little I’m on stage.

  It’s fun, though. And I’m getting experience and hopefully someone will see me in it and maybe offer me a bigger non-paying role.

  One can only hope, right?

  13

  “Hi, it’s Athena. I wanted to talk…explain…”

  My thumb hovers over the “delete” button. I end up hitting “save,” because fuck it feels good to hear her voice.

  She can fuck right off, though, if she thinks I’m calling her back.

  I reached down and strapped my balls back on this week and threw myself into work at the garage. Turns out to be a good thing because with summer here, we’ve got more cars than mechanics and fabricators. My shop has a reputation for transforming clunkers into show-quality classics one bolt at a time. Right now, we’re backed up and the fourteen to sixteen hour work days give me the perfect distraction.

  Thank fuck I never brought her here like I’d been planning.

  “Yo, boss,” one of my mechanics calls out. “Greyson has a ’76 vette he wants to unload. It’s in rough shape. You want it for a project car?”

  Fuck me. I just can’t catch a break, can I? I finally got her off my fucking mind, and then the car she told me she wants shows up at my shop? Seriously? What did I do to piss off the universe?

  For some idiotic reason, I say yes to the car.

  Goddammit. It’s even red.

  I’m exhausted and annoyed when I drag my ass into the clubhouse. After days of being reminded of her every time I look around my clubhouse, I’ve come to fully appreciate the wisdom of having a home away from here like Dante, Luck, and some of the other brothers have. Returning to my empty room night after night sucks.

  The camera I used to film us the last time we fucked taunts me from my dresser. I haven’t bothered to watch it. What’s the point? I plug the card into my laptop, just for a brief preview.

  My dick throws a tantrum behind my fly when she comes on the screen. I’m iron-hard for the first time in a while, watching her move and tease. Before I even realize it, my dick’s in my hand and I’m giving it long slow strokes. When on-screen-Athena puts her mouth on my cock, my hips jerk remembering that phantom tongue. Pissed as hell that all I have is a fucking video.

  I barely have time to grab a towel before my body seizes. But it’s just a meaningless release. Physically, I feel calmer. Everywhere else, I’m only more agitated.

  From the screen she still torments me, until I shut the computer down.

  If only shutting down my brain were as simple.

  * * *

  Roxy isn’t a completely awful roommate. When it’s just the two of us, and not her posse of thuggish biker-poser boyfriends, she’s actually fun.

  Today she’s helpful too.

  “I have a lead on an audition in Beachwood if you want it. I can’t go.”

  I haven’t really figured out what Roxy does. She says she goes on auditions, but mostly she seems to party and hang out. As long as her half of the rent gets paid, I suppose it’s none of my business.

  “What’s it for?”

  “Some sort of reality thing.”

  Beachwood’s too far to walk, so I reluctantly take my car out of its space and fight my way through traffic.

  The neighborhood—when I finally find the place—is decent enough.

  It turns weird when I’m called into the audition room, though. There’s a cheap table and chair set up across from a spacious black leather couch. Two guys and two video cameras.

  One of the forms they ask me to fill out asks a bunch of medical questions. Since I’m still new at this, I don’t know if that’s normal or not.

  A nervous fluttering starts up in my belly but I tamp it down.

  The two guys are nice enough. They invite me to sit on the couch and one of them casually flicks the camera on. They ask me to pull out my identification and hold it up to my face to take a picture. They’re real focused on whether I’m actually eighteen.

  Some inner voice tell
s me to run.

  “So are you comfortable with nudity?” Creep number one—as I’ve now named him in my head for asking that question—slides his slimy gaze up and down my body. “You’ve got a nice frame. Very well-proportioned.”

  “Um—”

  Creep number two picks up where his skeevy buddy left off. “You’re in Hollywood, babe. You can’t get work unless you get naked.”

  Luckily, Elliot and my acting coach warned me about this sort of thing.

  “What is this for again?” I ask.

  “A film,” creep number one answers vaguely.

  Creep number two adds, “Come on, every girl your age has had sex on camera.”

  My cheeks heat up remembering the video Romeo and I made together. But that was sexy, fun, and somehow…sweet. I was excited and felt safe.

  Here, I feel sick and scared.

  “This is a mistake.” I get up and grab my bag. Creep number one moves in front of the door.

  “We really think you’ve got potential, Athena.” I hate that I told these two jerks my real name and that they have a copy of my license.

  “I’m not feeling very well.” It’s not a lie either. I’m about to throw up if I don’t get out of here.

  They try a few more times to convince me to stay but finally realize it’s not happening. In the hallway, two nervous girls wait anxiously for their turn.

  “It’s a porn audition,” I warn them.

  “We know. Anal Angels Seventeen,” they whoop and giggle like it’s the greatest thing ever.

  I’m going to kill Roxy.

  14

  “How’d you do?” Roxy asks when I return to the apartment a couple hours later.

  “It was for a porno.”

  She makes this so what face, and it hits me that she knew exactly what I’d be walking into.

  “I didn’t come out here to do porn,” I explain as calmly as possible.

  “Seriously? They pay like a thousand dollars a scene. I thought you were looking for a job.”

  “Yeah, I was thinking more like waiting tables, not taking strange dick up my ass.”

  “Oh! They pay way more for anal.”

  I stand there blinking because I have no response to that. None. Nope. My words have left my brain.

  “No.”

  “Okay.” She shrugs. “Sorry. I was just trying to help.”

  She follows me into the kitchen and watches while I put a salad together for dinner. “Do you want half?” I ask.

  “No. Snake’s bringing pizza over.”

  Great. Guess I’ll be spending my evening hiding out in my room.

  At least this time Snake only shows up with two of his shifty-looking buddies.

  After dinner, I point to his vest and ask about the patches.

  He raises an eyebrow as if I’ve finally said something worthwhile. “You know something about MCs, Athena?”

  “No. Not really. My best friend lives with a guy in one, and I’ve hung out with them.” What am I supposed to do, give this jerk the whole stupid story?

  “She his ol’ lady?” Roxy asks.

  “No. She’s my age.”

  All four of them have a good laugh at that.

  When Roxy stops giggling like a brain dead Barbie, she explains. “No. It’s like wife status in an MC.”

  “Oh.”

  Oh shit.

  When I asked Reed how he knew Karina’s father, he said something about old ladies. Old ladies stay out of club business. Did he mean he wanted me to be—

  “Athena?”

  “What?”

  “I was saying be careful. I got booted out of a club back in New York for not kissing the ass of the president’s ol’ lady. Hardcore MC guys take that shit seriously.”

  “Well, she’s my best friend, so it’s not an issue.”

  She shrugs. “I’m just saying. That’s why I like Snake being a nomad. I don’t have to worry about that shit.”

  He chuckles, a dark hollow sort of laugh that gives me the chills.

  When I can slip out of the room without them noticing, I do. I’m exhausted and confused. Overwhelmed. I miss Romeo. I feel awful for leaving the way I did. Maybe we could have tried long-distance, or I could have enrolled in acting classes back home.

  Now, I’ll never know.

  Like an idiot, I try calling him again. He’s ignored every one of my other fifty phone calls. I’m not sure why I think this time will be any different.

  Yup, straight to voicemail.

  “It’s me again. I know you don’t want to talk to me. But I wanted to say I miss you.”

  That’s so pathetic. I wish I could hack into his voicemail and erase it. Hopefully he deletes my messages without listening to them.

  I try Karina, and at least she answers my calls.

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing. My roommate sent me on a porn audition today.”

  “Oh my God. You didn’t.”

  “Ew. Of course not. I got the hell out of there.”

  Her warm laughter eases the ickiness that followed me home from the casting couch. I haven’t gone this long without seeing my best friend since we met and I miss her terribly.

  “Everything else okay?” she asks.

  “No. I don’t know. Roxy has her shady boyfriend and his friends here again.”

  “Athena, I wish you’d find another roommate.”

  “I know. I’m not on the lease, so I could leave, but that’s a shitty thing to do.”

  “You’re too nice.”

  “Hey, are you Dante’s old lady?”

  She chuckles. “I guess. It’s not official, in the eyes of the club yet. There’s a special—never mind. What made you ask that?”

  “Roxy said something about it.”

  “Be careful what you say about the club to strangers, Athena. Seriously.”

  “I will. I didn’t use any names or anything.”

  “Good. She sounds shady as hell.”

  I sigh and yawn. “I’ve got an early class, so I’m going to try to get some sleep.”

  “Got your earplugs?”

  “Yup.” I’d told her Roxy and Snake had woken me from a dead sleep more than once with their loud, raunchy sex antics.

  Feeling lonely, I slip into Romeo’s shirt. It’s starting to smell more like me than him, but it still makes me feel better.

  * * *

  The next morning, I’m up before anyone else and I’m in the kitchen making coffee when Snake startles me.

  “Iron Bulls? That’s who your friend’s hooked up with?”

  “Shit!” Coffee grounds go flying all over the kitchen, and I stop to sweep them up before answering. “You startled me.”

  He seems completely unconcerned and appears to be waiting for me to answer his question.

  “Yeah.”

  “Who’s she with?”

  “Uh, their Sergeant whatever?”

  He grunts as an answer, but when I turn around, he spots the lettering on the front of my shirt. “You hook up with their prez?”

  What an obnoxious asshole. “No.” My red cheeks say otherwise, though, and he nods slowly.

  “Where’s Roxy?”

  He gives me a sly smile that’s creepy as hell. “Still sleepin’.”

  “Oh. Well, I have to get ready for class, so I’ll get out of your way.”

  Screw it. I’d rather spend my last seventy-five cents on a day-old bagel for breakfast than spend any more time around Snake.

  I almost picked up the phone last night. Her “I wanted to say I miss you” message definitely fucked with my head. In fact, the memory of her voice chased me downstairs to the bar at ten in the morning, instead of where I should be—the garage.

  “Can I talk to you?” Karina’s soft voice pulls me away from my thoughts.

  Not sure what the fuck she’s doing here this early in the morning. I glance over and find her fidgeting “Dante ain’t here,” I snap.

  “I know. I stopped by to talk to you.” A slig
ht note of exasperation colors her voice. I find that funny, since most of the time she seems so reserved.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  I didn’t have to ask. I already know it has something to do with her friend. It’s not like we have much else to talk about.

  “I’m worried about Athena.”

  Shit. I thought maybe she was going to try to talk me into answering Athena’s calls or calling her back. “Why?”

  She reacts to my sharp tone by taking a step back and I fight back the urge to shake her.

  “Her roommate sounds sketchy. She sent her on an audition for a porn—”

  “What?” I barely keep my voice below a shout.

  “She left the audition. But it’s more than that. The girl has these shady bikers hanging out there all the time.”

  I’m not liking the sound of any of this. Yeah, I’m pissed at Athena, but I don’t want her to get hurt. “She say which club?”

  Karina shakes her head. “No. Do you want me to ask next time?”

  “Yeah. Find out for me. Give me the address too.”

  Why do I care? Why am I inserting myself into Athena’s life when she so clearly doesn’t want me to be a part of it?

  She’s called you fifty times, jackass.

  I really ain’t in the mood for my conscience to play devil’s advocate.

  Karina scribbles out the address and hands it over. “Thank you. I’ve been worried about it all night and Dante’s not home, or I would have talked to him, but Luck said I should tell you,” she babbles out.

  “Yeah. You did the right thing.” Since I’ve been a bit of an asshole to her, it took some guts to bring this to me by herself. She’s a loyal girl, something I respect. “Thanks, Karina.”

  I landed a real audition. It’s hard to explain this sort of milestone to anyone but another actor, so I end up celebrating with Elliot. He’s beside himself excited for me.

  The role is “slutty waitress.” Yes, that’s the description. It’s non-union, background work. But it’s a real television pilot and Elliot assures me it’s a big deal.

  I don’t get the part.

  But it’s still huge, and we go out to celebrate anyway.