Outside Affliction

( chapter 2 )

I packed my bags in my room, only checking off the essentials. Bathroom stuff. Books. Many books. Library card. Laptop. Phone. Clothes. Tea. That was all I needed, along with a pack of mints in case I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen during filming. Not that’d I’d eat it anyway, but I thought I’d give it a try and good breath was important in a house of professional people. Jamie picked me up early, the first morning of summer. My parents hugged and kissed me, their wet tears soaking through my thin gray sweater and dripping onto my capri jeans.

 

“Your mother told me you don’t know Outside Affliction. A shame, really. They’re a classical pop band. They make original pop music, convert it to classical instruments without voices, and then sell the original pop song to a pop boyband. Five guys, Cody, Oliver, Dylan, Daniel, and Martin. All around your age, give or take a year. We’re doing a web series called Band Camp, and I was thinking you could be in it.” Jamie said. It took a moment to process everything.

“Um, I don’t act-”

“Anybody who’s in the house is going to be a role. I made the plumber play a guy last year.”

“Okay. Just nothing too ridiculous. Maybe a small part…”

 

My plans of reading in my room flew out the window. Fantastic. I was too quiet to speak up for myself, and I already knew there was no changing his mind as we swerved into the driveway of his mansion.

 

Vonnie, Cory, and Chest were already there, pigging out on Mountain Dews and BBQ chips when we arrived. They didn’t look embarrassed. This is what it’s like to have best friends? Poor Jamie. But Jamie looked perfectly happy as he grabbed the sodas and chips and shoved them in the cabinet.

“You guys have met Reagan, right?” he asked. They nodded, and embraced me. I felt my breath getting heavier and heart race increasing, but I tried to coax myself. You’ve met them before. Relax. They were bouncing up and down, shouting different ideas and expressing their excitement for meeting Outside Affliction. I wondered why I’d never heard of them before if they were so famous. Or maybe they weren’t. It was hard to believe how serious all of them could be if they had to play a serious role. Jamie produced scripts from his cupboard and passed them out to all of us.

“Vons, you be Quisha. Cory, you be Jefferson. Chest, you be William. Reagan, you be… Spencer.” I scanned the script, looking for my name. It finally appeared on the fifth page out of many pages, printed as:

 

Spencer (girlfriend of Oliver): Hey

 

I didn’t read the rest of the line. Girlfriend?

“Um, Jamie?” I asked, biting my lip. “I don’t think Spencer’s quite the role for me. How about a tree?”

“Nonsense, you’ll be perfect,” Jamie said, not looking up from his script. “Oliver’ll love you, I feel it.”

I flipped through the script, and my breathing nearly stopped. I was the main female character, with tons of lines almost on every page. And then at the very end, in black and white:

 

Spencer and Oliver kiss.

 

“Jamie?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“I’m really not a kisser-”

“You’re going to be Spencer, Reagan. No more about it.”

 

It’s just an act, I told myself. I was still nervous. Nothing I told myself worked. The series was called Band Camp, and it was basically about all of the boys coming to Jamie’s house to train to be a better band. It was kind of funny, a lot of the time. Spencer was Jamie’s daughter, who became best friends with Oliver and kind of formed a relationship sometime during the summer. One kiss though, at the very end. One perfect kiss.

 

Before I could dwell on this more, the doorbell rang and the whole squad of acting adults squealed. I stared in amazement, then felt like hiding in the closet. I hated meeting new people. I could feel my sweat already, my tongue on the verge of stuttering. But they were all looking at me expectantly as Jamie answered the door, so I stayed. Mostly because I couldn’t move.

 

There they were. Five guys, with gorgeous faces and gorgeous hair and everything flawless, perfect. They were a mix of dorky and sexy, which kind of left my jaw on the floor. I didn’t know which one was Oliver, but if I was more comfortable with people, I wouldn’t have minded which one. They threw their arms around Jamie, then Vons and Chest and Cory, introducing them to each other. Then they noticed me, and threw their arms around me. I nearly blacked out.

 

“Are you part of Jamie’s crew?” one asked. He had a goofy smile, wild, messy brown hair and sparkling sky blue eyes.

“No, she’s my niece,” Jamie said, glancing at me to ask, are you okay?, suddenly painfully aware of my social anxiety. I shook my head microscopically, and faced them again.

“Your name is…” one with bleached blond hair said, smiling.

“Reagan,” I said, it coming out as a quiet whisper.

“Ohmigosh, that’s super pretty!” one exclaims. He has slightly tousled, beachy black hair and dark, dark brown. His smile is like sunshine, and he kind of smells like books and vanilla.

I flinch.

“Okay, get your scripts here!” Jamie shouted, and all the boys flocked to the counter, except for the one who smelled like books and vanilla.

“I’m Oliver.” he said, flashing me a dazzling smile and hugging me lightly one last time, then went to get his script. I felt breathless and fluttery, a dorky grin plastered across my face. Who knew a person could make me so happy? I guess Support Group helped.