John Reynolds was lying on the couch of his dressing room, staring at the ceiling, when he felt the couch shift slightly and he glanced behind him to spot his intern, 21 year old Asa Butterman, seating herself on the arm of the couch and lighting a joint, which she promptly handed him after she took a long drag. He took it and took a long drag himself, both of them exhaling smoke together and laughing about it.
"Hollywood is probably the only place you can get away with smoking pot on the job," Asa said. "Not if you work at a dispensary," Reynolds remarked, the both of them laughing again. The door to the room opened, and the shows intern, David, stepped in and, after momentarily adjusting his headset, looked at them while furrowing his brow, as if judging their smoking decisions. "They need you back on set in fifteen," David said, before just as quickly exiting. "God what a weiner," Reynolds said, handing the joint back to Asa. "He's alright if you actually talk to him," she said, taking a drag, "but yeah, for all intents and purposes, he's pretty much a weiner." After a few more drags, they put the joint out and Asa tucked it into her pocketbook before they each got up and got ready for being back on set. Asa stood in front of the mirror, brushing her hair, while Reynolds redid his tie and ran his hand down his face, making sure he didn't look completely high. "Though, admittedly, I think he's jealous," Asa said as she dragged the brush through her hair. "David? Why's he jealous?" Reynolds asked. "Cause we're fucking," Asa said. "You make it sound so casual," Reynolds replied, "I like to think what we have is a bit more than that." Asa turned and looked at him, leaning back against the vanity table, biting her lip. "Are you saying you love me?" she asked, and Reynolds chuckled, approaching her, putting his hands on her firm young waist. "I'm saying that we're having fun, and who cares what some weiner thinks about it," Reynolds said, burying his face in her neck, his stubble tickling her, making her laugh as he kissed her skin, whispering, "besides, the only opinion that matters in this industry is the opinion of public court. So long as nobody ever knows, who cares if some dork gets his underwear in a bunch." Reynolds picked up Asa by the thighs and plopped her on the vanity table before unbuckling his pants. After they finished, he pulled his blazer on, she fixed her hair, and together they headed out onto the stage before a live studio audience and he began the show the same way he started every episode. "Hello folks, I'm John Reynolds, joined as always by my lovely assistant Asa Butterman, and welcome to another episode of Go For Broke!" He flashed his teeth at the camera and winked. Always the charmer. But one day he'd be in a situation he couldn't charm his way out of. And that day was fast approaching. *** To say Asa Butterman had always wanted to be on TV was just factually inaccurate. She wanted, specifically, to be a showgirl. To be one of those women who got to wear high end fashions and look beautiful and turn letters over, ala Vanna White. Some would call her vain, shallow, edgeless, even say she was selling out her gender by perpetuating such stereotypes. But Asa didn't care. The allure was much too strong, and by the time she was in her 2nd year of college, she dropped out and looked to the LA skyline for guidance instead. She knew what she was destined to do. Getting work wasn't hard. She started as a model for catalogues before moving onto car shows, using her natural beauty and winning personality to beat out all the competition, which was no easy feat even in spite of her assets. And then, one afternoon, after weeks of failing auditions, her manager sent her a listing for a game show called "Go For Broke", in which contestants are given a million dollars and then meant to guess what combined items cost a million dollars, and if they get it right, they get to keep the money. Asa, after being hired, started to suspect Reynolds himself had a hand in her being chosen. He was the host, after all, he likely had a significant amount of pull around the studio. He was, essentially, the face of the show. And for that, she felt oddly appreciative. Out of all the gorgeous women (and she knew firsthand they were gorgeous because she'd been in the audition waiting room with them), he had chosen her. That had to mean something. The more time they began spending together, during the shows production and sometimes off production, the more she started to realize that her inclination had been correct, and he had, in fact, been a deciding factor in her employment. But the thing was...he clearly felt more for her than she did for him, and she felt somewhat bad about this. Oh, sure, she cared about him very much. But much more as a friend, and certainly not as an actual romantic prospect. That wasn't to say she didn't enjoy their time together, or that the sex was bad because, frankly, it was anything but, but she just...she didn't like him in that kind of way. And the longer they worked together, the more his feelings for her grew, and the more hers stagnated. He'd even started sending her flowers every now and then, and while she appreciated the interest shown in her, and his general sweetness, she also felt uncomfortable. After all, this was just a job. *** Clarissa was eating in the living room, watching some horror movie on mute as Reynolds entered and looked over the couch at her before bending over the back of the couch and planting a kiss on her head. She smiled at him as he set his jacket and other belongings down on the table nearby, loosening his tie. "Where's your mother?" he asked. "In the bedroom," Clarissa said, "she's mad at you." "Oh, wow, how shocking," Reynolds replied flatly. Seemed these days all he and Amber did was argue now. He sighed, ran his hands over his face and up into his hair before heading down the hall towards their bedroom. He opened the door, only to find Amber lying on the bed in pajamas eating dinner as well. Apparently she had ordered in multiple pizzas, one for Claire, one for herself and one for Reynolds. His was, in fact, sitting on the bed beside her. He slowly approached the bed and climbed onto it, then nuzzled up to her side and kissed her on the cheek, which did make her blush a little. "I got you dinner," Amber said quietly. "I noticed," Reynolds remarked, glancing towards the grease soaked box, "I always wanted a woman to have dinner for me when I got home." Amber laughed, and Reynolds smirked. Even when they weren't getting along, he found ways to make her laugh, as was his gift. He flipped open the lid to his box and reached inside, grabbing a slice and peeling it away from the rest. He raised it to his mouth and started chomping as Amber redirected her attention back to the television, which was also on mute. "What is it with you and Clarissa watching stuff on mute?" Reynolds asked. "It's nice to have something on, even if you aren't paying attention to it," Amber said, "Comforting to have the company." "Fair enough," Reynolds said. "I wanna do something special with you," Amber said, surprising him as she added, "I wanna go away somewhere, if that sounds okay with you. We could leave Clarissa with my sister, and we could go somewhere, just the two of us, for like two weeks or so. I think getting away from the city, being together, would be really good for us." Reynolds smiled and nodded. He figured she was about done with his ass, so this was a welcome change of pace. Especially with the way things had been lately, and the way Clarissa had told him Amber was mad at him, he figured he was on borrowed time. He figured he could take some time off away from production, he rarely took vacation or used his sick days, so he had spare time in excess to pull from. He figured later that night, they'd pull out the laptop and find out where to go, but, in the meantime... ...he had a pizza to eat, and a wife to eat it with. *** A few months into her hiring, Asa was already questioning if she was worthy of the job. She'd been told to lose weight, she'd been told to let someone else do her makeup, she'd been told to, essentially, not be herself in any way, shape or form. And on this particular day, she was sitting in her dressing room, cross legged on her chair in front of her vanity mirror, crying. She didn't even recognize herself anymore, and she hated that. She'd spent her whole life being in love with who she was, growing up with a very supportive mother who got her to appreciate herself just as she was, flaws and all, and she was happy with how beautiful she was, simply because she was herself. But now she was being molded into this vision of starlet that the industry had in mind. The door opened and John entered, shutting it behind him. "You know, we're on set in..." he started, before seeing her hiding her face and sniffling, "...are you alright?" "Why would I be alright?" Asa asked, "...who don't they make guys stick to the same standards?" "You think I don't have to live up to their preconceived beauty standards?" John asked, "Seriously? I have to stay in shape, I have to keep dying my hair, despite it turning grey early, I have to wear uncomfortable suits. The industry isn't shameful just to women, for what it's worth. Yeah, you guys get it way worse, I won't deny that, but to not think men don't deal with it too is outright inaccurate." "Sorry..." Asa said, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "For what it's worth, whatever they're telling you, keep in mind they'd be telling any woman they'd hired that, so it's not personal," John said, "you're beautiful exactly as you are." Asa smiled, blushing, looking away. It was shortly after that that she and John started having lunch together, and shortly after that that the affair began in earnest. See, Asa had never really had a relationship before, despite her beauty and charming wholesome attitude, so she'd always fantasized about what being in a genuine relationship would be. At first, it was everything she thought she wanted. She liked being given small gifts, taken to nice places for dinner and lunch, she even enjoyed the sexual chemistry. But...after a while, she started to realize that - and it wasn't entirely just John - she didn't really want to be in a relationship. In fact, she found it stressful and anxiety inducing, having expectations placed on her (even if John himself never placed them). She just didn't have the strength to deal with what she thought was necessary to keep a relationship going, and it took its toll on her. She didn't even know if, frankly, she enjoyed sex all that much. Again, she'd not had a lot of it before coming to LA, so this being her first real foray into an ongoing sexual relationship, it made her re-evaluate the things she once thought she wanted. She didn't mind it, exactly, but the longer it went on, the more she started to realize that John was far more attached to the idea of it than she was. Sex she could take or leave, in all honestly. But she did appreciate the fact that the first, and likely only, person she would ever have something like this with had turned out to be such a decent guy. Sure, he was cheating on his wife, but...by Renolds admission...that marriage had ended a long time ago. Not that that was a proper excuse, but it at least explained his thought process. And then the news broke, and while John held his head high and grin and beared the fallout, Asa vanished. She quit her job shortly after the news broke, and she holed herself up in her apartment, living off her residual checks and her parents money that they regularly sent. Reynolds called her, e-mailed her, texted, even stopped by a few times, but she never replied to any of his attempts at communication, and the times he stopped by her apartment she simply turned all the lights off, locked the door and hid until he went away. She was considered a homewrecker now, because it's always the womans fault in societies eyes, and the men were just seen as "giving into the natural instincts." Asa no longer wanted to work in the industry. She just wanted to go home. The one home she hadn't wrecked, but in fact had been the glue of. *** "I just...I don't get how you could do this," Amber said quietly. When she spoke softly, that was when John knew she was really damaged. When she was yelling, sure, she was mad, but it was just anger boiling over as a normal reaction. But when she got quiet...that was when she was really mad, because she lacked any and all emotions. She was so devestated she couldn't even muster the energy to be angry. John, sitting across from her in the living room - Clarissa was at school - didn't really know what to say. He sighed and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "It wasn't...we haven't been happy in so long," John said, "and don't say it's just me, because you haven't either. We both know it. We both work too much, we barely spend time together as a couple, and on the instances we try, like when we went on vacation, we just spend most of the time ignoring one another or fighting." Amber opened her mouth, wanting to respond, but she knew deep down he was right. She also wasn't happy. They'd been best friends for so long, married for so long, how had things come to this? How had they allowed this to happen? "It's nobodies fault," John said, "I mean, the affair thing was my fault, obviously, but I mean the whole drifting apart thing. It just happens. You don't even realize it. You become comfortable, complacent, thinking you no longer have to put in effort cause you're already so comfortable and settled in with someone. I think that's where I got stuck. I thought that, for some reason, I didn't have to try anymore cause we've already been married so long, have a teenage daughter. It just...it was easy. I think I'm addicted to that rush you get from the start of something new. I'm so fucking sorry, Amber." Amber nodded, but still didn't speak. She figured her silence said more than any words she could find ever would. "I'll pack my stuff," Reynolds said, "Don't know where I'll go, but...but you deserve some space." As he stood up and headed for the hallway, Amber finally spoke. "Did you love her more than me?" she asked, and John stopped. "...no," he said, "No, I really didn't. I don't think I ever could love someone the way I loved you. I think I love every woman in a different way, for different reasons. But nobody is ever replacing anyone. She isn't you, she's herself. You'll always be my first love. The mother of my child. You're tied to me for life, regardless of how this all turns out, and that's comforting to know. I'll always love you." Amber smiled weakly, and looked back at the floor as John finally exited the room and headed to the bedroom. Once in the bedroom, he lugged a large suitcase from the nearby closet and plopped it on the bed, then stood over it and, silently, started finally crying. He wasn't sad his marriage was over, or that he'd been the one to ruin it, but moreso that he'd hurt Amber in the way that he had. But she deserved better than this, he wanted her to be happy. He was mad at himself for putting his wife, and especially his daughter, through such a traumatic experience. If only he could've seen the future a few years from now, when his daughter would be living with him again. Maybe that would've eased the pain. That was the last night John and Amber spoke for about 5 months. *** Asa opened her front door, spoon stuck in her lips, as she saw John standing on her porch. She sighed and stepped aside, letting him enter the apartment. As he did, he noticed just how messy and disorganized and disheveled the place had become. What once had been a bastion of cleanliness was now a hoarded nightmare. He stopped and looked at her, as she sat back down with force on the couch and continued to eat from her ice cream pint. "I'm leaving town," he said. "Yeah, me too," she said. "You are?" "Yeah. Going home. Quitting all this," Asa said, waving her spoon around haphazardly at the apartment, "this city, this place, it's ruined me. I don't wanna be a part of this fake bullshit. I'm going home to my folks." "Asa, I'm so sorry," John said, sitting on the ottoman near the couch, "Please know that I'm so sorry and-" "I don't really blame you," she said, interrupting, "I don't. You were obviously searching for something, and I just happened to be receptive enough to allow it. Plus it wasn't like I didn't have fun or enjoy myself. It was nice. What we had was nice. But...I don't think I can stand the pressure the industry and relationships put on me. The expectations. I left college to do this, but I think I know now that I'd rather be in college. Maybe if I recover, I can go back, find something that really fulfills me. I used to think this was what I wanted, but it's so not." "You never know until you try," John said, smirking, making her smile weakly. "Anyway John, you're not fully to blame. I was just as guilty," Asa said, "and I forgive you, if that's what you want." "Asa, you're much younger than me, vulnerable, and it was despicable of me to take advantage of you the way I did. Not that...not that I meant to do that, like, I didn't set out to do it. I really did, do, like you. Care about you. But I can't ignore the power differential. You don't deserve that." "Well, thank you, that's very mature of you, for a man of your age," Asa said, making him genuinely laugh. He stood back up and exhaled, and Asa did the same, setting the now empty container on the couch as she followed him back to the door. Once in the doorway, he turned and faced her. She had pulled a quilt around her, even covering her head. John reached out and tugged the quilt down gently from her head, revealing her face to the sun, and he smiled at her. "You're beautiful as you are, don't let this place or me or anyone change that fact of yourself," he said, "don't hide your face in shame, show it in pride." Asa hugged him, and he kissed the top of her head, and then he headed down the stairs towards the parking lot. For a while, from time to time - especially in the start of his new life as a little league coach - he would think about Asa, and how he might've managed to salvage what they had, but in the end did he really want to do that to her? Really, he'd done enough damage. And that was why, after meeting Gorey, he kept his distance romantically, because he didn't want to do that again to yet another woman. But now, sitting in the car with Gorey that night she was supposed to leave town, he couldn't be happier that he'd finally given in. This time he knew he could do it right. They had driven a bit aways from town, to a nearby hill, and parked in a place that overlooked the town, admiring the small specks of light, all while sharing some gas station tacos and drinks. The following morning, when they'd awake to the sunlight trickling slowly in through the cars windows, and Gorey resting her head on his chest, he would smile and shut his eyes again. Screw work for the day. He wanted to stay here, spend it with her, and finally get some joy from some kind of romance again. Besides, just like before... ...he had a lot of saved up time off to use.
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GRAVE INNINGS is about A funeral home that has sponsored a local little league, the coach who is a disgraced reality show host, a young transgirl and the odd family they create for one another. Archives
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