Fooled.

0 0 0
                                    

Ashley.

I never thought I'd find myself missing a studio. Find myself missing the atmosphere and find myself being so used to a room.

The lighting in this room may be better, but I'd take the less perfect natural light in New York over this anytime. We're nearing our last day in Los Angeles, and I've reached the conclusion I miss the concrete everywhere. It's surrounding almost every square here too, but the buildings aren't as tall and as packed together. Some streets are less crowded, offering more privacy. And though I'm battling anxiety on the streets of New York often, a part of me has gotten used to people of all kinds everywhere around me. Even so, this is a city I will definitely return to, one day in the future.

I've asked to use this room for the following days, and been granted the permission immediately. 'No one uses it anyway', the woman who handed me the keys told me. She was beautiful in a way I haven't seen for so long. Everything on her was natural, and though she had seemed to have started gaining some weight with the passing years, she embraced the changes her body was experiencing with elegant grace. The wrinkles around her eyes from having laughed so often in her life made her eyes shine even more. Even the smile lines around her mouth looked so natural. A part of her.

Panting, I bend over, catching my breath. Sweats running down my spine, down my forehead. My clothes are soaked and sticking onto my body. The heat isn't helping either, the humid air getting through the window. It's hell when it's open, but it's even worse when it's closed. The air-condition only gives me an unbearable headache and makes me sneeze every two seconds.

I pause the music, reaching for my water bottle like I haven't drank in days. My throat's burning, feeling drier than the Sahara desert. Chugging on my water I sit with my back against the wall, eyes closed.

Alex is currently having another writing lesson of today, this time with River and Ace too. Mae, being crowned the lead singer, is stuck with her strange vocal coach. Every time she emerges from her studio, she's shaking her head and looking like she's been challenged with trials forcing her to challenge her demons. She looks so pale and hollow, but says it's worth it. Her voice really has been improving rapidly and gaining even more strength, her techniques expanding

Tired and confused, I allow myself to take a five minute nap, wondering how the hell they can survive on so little sleep. After yesterday's training and an afternoon hike in the hills, my muscles are aching with every move I force them to make. They're suffering greatly and they're letting me know.

The door slightly opens, Ace popping his head inside. "You dead?"

I shake my head, but no words come out of my throat. He walks inside, closing the door behind him and sitting down next to me.

"How can you sleep so little?" I asks. My body's begging me for some rest, even if just an hour. I've used all the energy for sleepless nights I had. Now I'm just a walking dying battery waiting to be recharged properly.

"You get used to it after some time." His voice sounds tired, and words too serious. Different than this morning when he was happily jumping around the spacious living room singing his lungs out. He wasn't the slightest sad he had woken up half of the household.

"I don't want to get used to it."

He laughs, nudging my knee with his. "Your boyfriend rarely sleeps. I think you'll have to get used to it."

Boyfriend.

Something about his words hits directly in my heart, stinging. Hope, desire, and past memories.

Then it fades and... And fear comes.

"He's not my boyfriend," I say hesitantly. "I guess. I don't know what we are."

2 kidsWhere stories live. Discover now