Behind The Scenes

Twelfth

WARNING: May be mentions of abuse, panic attacks, trauma, blood, etc. If you are sensitive to these topics, please don't read.

Bryce POV:

"You were wrong," I said, throwing a pillow at Jane.

"How was I supposed to know Mindy would find true love at a hospital?" she said, slapping the pillow away.

"You said she would never love anyone."

"Yeah, anyone except Cookie."

"Whatever. Are we meeting Alex and Lia today?"

"Alex hasn't been feeling well. He won't stop fainting and the only person he talks to is Lia."

I bit the inside of my cheek. Alex has been getting worse and worse by the day. If he doesn't start improving, he might have to start on medication.

"What are we supposed to do?"

Jane's eyes glinted with excitement.

"Plan their first date."

"Oh, sure. Plan a date for a couple that had their confession ruined by abusive foster parents. See if anything will go wrong."

"Shut up. I've already covered everything. I'm just running my ideas with you since you're my boyfriend."

"Why am I dating you?"

"Because your standards are high."

"Makes sense."

"Okay, the date will be at Paradise Park. Bianca will drive them there at 3:00 and pick them up at 9:00. They will dress casual since it's a park date and they've know each other for some time. Alex and Lia both have gifts they want to give to the other so no need to worry about that. When they reach, there will be a larger-than-average tent just for them filled with whatever they need. Movies, food, refreshments, AC. You name it, I'll have it. I have a crew of middle schoolers that are willing to help set up for $2 an hour."

"Damn. Does this count as child labor?"

"Not when we're kids too."

"Speak for yourself. I'm 18."

"Whatever. How does it sound?"

"Well, you've definitely put thought into this. It's perfect."

"You know what this means," she said, turning to me.

"Operation Alia: Engaged."

~~Meanwhile~~

Alex POV:

I'm in a dream. No, not a dream. A memory. I'm sitting on the floor of an apartment. It's small and only has a kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom. I stand up and walk toward a mirror. I look about one or two years old. Just then, I feel myself being lifted up. I turn to see a man I feel like I know. Like a distant memory.

"Happy birthday, Alex. You are officially two years old," he said, putting me in a highchair.

My highchair. I guess I'm two now. Yay. The front door opened and there stood a lady. Again, I feel like I know her. In her arms was a baby. As I looked at the blanket the baby was wrapped in, I realized that the baby's name was stitched into it. M-I-N-D-Y. It was Mindy. If I'm in my baby self and that's Mindy's baby self, then these must be our parents. Our real parents.

"There's the birthday boy," my mother said, giving Mindy to my dad and kissing me on the cheek.

I might have smiled. I might have thought of smiling. Either way, I felt loved. My mom went to the kitchen and came out with a cake. It was small and probably for two people, but I could tell it was made with love.

"It's not much, but it's all we could afford," she said, lighting the candle on the cake.

I blew the candle and we sang 'Happy Birthday.' Then, the scene changed. I was playing with some toys, Mindy was napping, and my parents were sitting on the dining table. In their hands was an eviction notice.

"We can't have our kids live a life of homelessness," my dad said. "Maybe we should rethink being actors."

"I'd rather live a life doing something I love than go into a stable, boring, average job. What about foster care?" my mom said.

It hit me. They were talking about giving us up. The odd thing was they weren't talking about leaving us in the middle of an alley. My dad was pacing around before he paused and spun around.

"There's my cousin Nat. She could look after Alex and Mindy while we get our life together. We could still visit them."

"They'll grow up without us."

I wanted to scream that we would grow up without them anyway but I couldn't. It was only a memory.

"It's better than growing up without any money. Nat already volunteered to look after them. She can provide what we can't."

"As long as they're happy."

I felt like crying. We're not happy. I'm not happy. The scene changed again. I recognized this place from photographs in my foster care file. We were walking down an alley. Not again.