The Orion Star

The Reason It's All Worth It

So get in the differential lane

Come dance with me

No need to be weary

No need to be leery

--From the song Differential Lane

Lyrics By: Orion Bauwens

"It's so nice to finally meet you, Ms. Dupree."

"Please, call me Jessica."

I let go of the woman's hand. We both sit, her behind a large wooden desk, me in the chair situated on the other side. She's wearing a grey suit, her blonde hair pulled back and held up with a black clip. Honestly she reminds me of Portia de Rossi.

"I'm Orion Bauwens."

"I know," she says with a kind smile.

I laugh. "Yeah, you would know, wouldn't you? Sorry, sometimes I forget I'm famous. Or maybe I don't want to think of myself as famous..."

Her sweet smile doesn't leave her lips.

"So, Mr. Bauwens--"

"You can call me Orion, too."

"Alright, Orion. What brings you to my office today?"

"Well, like we talked about over the phone, I'm trying to find out about my birth parents..."

We already discussed most of everything over the phone. We go over more details, and I tell her about the dead ends I ran into already. I also briefly mention that my adoptive parents are uncooperative, and while I'm not telling her how to do her job, I don't think exploring that avenue would be anything more than a waste of time.

"This might take awhile Orion," Jessica tells me honestly. "Sometimes these things do."

"Yes, of course," I tell her, rubbing my sweaty palms against my pants. "However long it takes--money is a non-issue. All I ask are some sort of results, eventually, even if you don't find anything."

She nods. "Do you live here in Michigan?"

I shake my head.

The soft smile returns. "Well, if you have somewhere else to be, you don't have to stay here. There's a chance that your birth parents aren't even in Michigan. That happens sometimes."

I can feel my eyes widen a bit. That thought never even occurred to me. As I think about the possibility of them not being in the state I grew up in, I reach into my jacket pocket. "Oh, er, by the way I brought you my birth certificate."

I could have easily emailed her a copy, but I didn't feel comfortable with that. That was the real reason I wanted to physically come into the office, so she could make a hard copy. As I hand it to her and she moves to make a photocopy, I continue.

"Um, Jessica. There was one more thing I'd like to discuss with you."

"Of course," she says, and a moment later hands me back my birth certificate. I notice the copy she's made has the words COPY all over it. "I'll shred this when I'm done, I assure you."

"About that..." I scratch the back of my neck. "It's not that I don't trust you, but I don't trust you."

She laughs and I smile awkwardly.

"What I mean by that is--"

"I know. You don't want anything leaking out to the press."

"Right. And that's why I picked you specifically. Your profile mentions that you've dealt with confidential clients before, which I assume means celebrities--"