speed | paul walker

-TWO

THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO @_lightofdawn_ FOR HER COMMENTS THAT MEAN A LOT TO ME

The 2 hour drive to Cheaper By the Barrel was worth it. It was a small bar that reminded Aurora of that show Cheers, it had that vibe to it.

There were memories that were cherished by her because of a tavern off of I59. She had her first beer here, learned how the game of basketball works (March Madness was taken very seriously here), celebrated her biggest break yet after snagging the role for one of the highest rated movies ever in America. . . There were locals and there were one-time-stoppers, but it seemed like every time she came by somebody made a difference in that place to her.

Maybe its just the rum talking Aurora thought to herself as shifted from first gear to park. Was this all she had now? A bar? She had flunked out of high school with a little bit of knowledge about cars and mechanical shit like that. In a matter of days Aurora's agent would call to say she would have to find someone else to manage her. That was the worst about this place. Your mistakes don't just fall on top of you but plenty of other people in your life. Managers, parents, people that the paparazzi find you find with. They all get heat.

" It wasn't a mistake, Aurora man, you need to stop foreshadowing, kid," Skips said as he dried a mug clean with a rag. Skips was the owner of The Barrel. Surfer by day, bartender by night. For Rora he was her therapist. They became friends over drinks and now the guy is more a fatherly figure to her with whatever advice he could give with his stereotypical surfer accent. Aurora took a swig of alcohol and stared at the napkin with a ring that had formed.

" Remember when that old geezer came in here with his AR15, looking for Dalton?"

" Dalton Eagger?" Aurora recalled the ratchet scene when the man came in and opened fire searching for Dalton. If it weren't for Skips, Dalton, built with a 5 foot 6 frame would have been chopped liver in a second.

" And that's why I tell ya to keep a .25 under the counter," she smirked and gave Skips a wink. He could only smile at the comment and look out the window. " I can only assume what happened with you and that ass of a producer, Rora, but don't let something this stupid be the downfall of your acting career. Show Hollywood- show the whole damn world that mamma ain't raise no quitter, you hear me? 'Cause man, the next time you come in here it'll be that you star in the next Mission Impossible, man. They make way to many of those movies," Skips lectures. Ah yes the wise advice that Skips gives.

" Thanks pops, I can always count on my old man for some street credit advice," Aurora raised her glass.

" To Skips!" A man sitting across the bar said, raising his glass in salute to the washed up surfer. Everybody in the whole bar that night stopped what they were doing and returned the gesture, smiling like fools. Skips was everybody's therapist.

" To Skips!"

The guy couldn't help but give a bashful grin. He hated attention. " Arnold just for that I'm cutting Happy Hour a half hour short!" He jokes and the room laughed. Rora observed that even though as she would not be happy for the drive back to the city but at least she could be grateful for this. There were no cameras. No scripts. No ridiculous questions being asked about her career. This felt right. Acting has really had taken over my life, she thought to herself. I wish I could do something more.

Meanwhile only a few miles away, Paul Walker, car fanatic and beloved actor, was going through something similar. Acting was tiring for him. A series film was being produced right now called The Fast and the Furious, and it was a ton of work. There were a lot of stunts that had to be filmed then re-filmed again to get different shots. He really enjoyed his job but hated it at the same time.

" Hey Walker," two blondes in bikini tops and high waisted shorts waved from the sidewalk. He nodded, politely ignoring them. " I'm so hungry where is Vin's ass so we can go eat," he mumbled to himself reaching into his cargo shorts' pocket to pull out his Skyline car keys. It was a Nissan Skyline with silver candy paint and a blue stripe down the middle. A real beaut she was. Dr. Dre started to play once he turned the ignition on. Paul tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel then clucked his tongue and grabbed his phone. He found Vin Diesel's name and hit the call button.

Vin and Paul go way back. Costars and best buds who share a passion for cars. Nothing could separate 'em.

" Pick up dude this steering wheel is starting to look appetizing I'm hungry as-,"

" Yello?"

" Yeah 'yello' to you, dude where you at? I've been in the parking lot for like 10 minutes," Paul looked around for his friend.

" ... is this a booty call?"

" What? Vin stop playing with me and get over here," he laughed.

" ... aighty boo. Aye what's up with you? You've been tense and out of it today," Vin spoke this time with concern. Paul was a loose and funny guy, it was weird to see him act the way he was earlier during rehearsals.

" Ehhh just some stuff, I'll tell ya over dinner," he confessed.

" I'm tired of all these restaurants around here ya know? And you need to chill out, let's go out for drinks and find some chicks, kay boo?" Vin suggested.

Paul wasn't really interested in hooking up with someone tonight but he was interested in a beer and some fries. There wasn't anytime to argue. " Nearest bar outside of Santa Ana. Meet me there. . . and stop calling me boo, it's weird."

" You know you like it Walker." Paul ended the call and groaned, then playfully rolled his eyes.

" Beer and fries here we come."