Alyx In Wonderland Chapter 6 free porn video

Thank you to everyone who has left comments for previous chapters. Your support mean a lot to us. If you feel too shy to leave a comment, or have questions you'd like to ask, or maybe you want to tell us about your own work. Any of the above you can contact us here: [email protected] Now for this week's episode... (Theme tune by Robertlouis) Alex Urgh. I turned over only to find myself facing the back of Chloe and Tom's sofa. For a few blissful seconds, I couldn't remember what had happened. Then it all came flooding back. The pictures of the party. The swimming pool. Becca shouting at me on the phone. I groaned again and sat up. "Good morning, sunshine." I looked up to see Tom standing over me. Smiling, the bastard. "Morning." I felt like it was a rainy day in November and I had to get up for school. With double maths. And PE. "Coffee?" "Uh huh." I could have kissed him. By the time he'd brought back an extra mug for me, I'd folded away the sofa bed. "Thanks." I took it from him. We sat on the sofa, me with my legs curled up underneath me. "Heard anything else from Becca?" I shook my head, then took a sip of the coffee. "Not even about your shit?" "She doesn't want to see me and she won't let me be in her place," and she emphasized her, to point out how I moved in, "when she's not there. What can I do?" He looked at me funny. "Anyway, since we're still finishing off the interior shots, it's probably best I stay in character. At least for now." I didn't need to see my reflection to know my hair looked like a bird had built a nest on top of a scarecrow. 'Hot stuff Allie,' I muttered to myself. At least I'd remembered to remove my makeup. The hot shower helped clear my head. Unfortunately, it also gave me time to think. I'd emailed Jacob the night before. My latest attempt to say I was sorry. Unsurprisingly, there had been no reply. The same as my attempts via IG, Twitter and WhatsApp. In desperation I'd even tried Facebook, like we were forty or something. I stepped out of the shower and felt like shit. There was a split second where I spotted a new message when my world stopped. Becca? Jacob? No, it was just Lydia checking I had that day's schedule. I slumped on to the toilet, all energy gone. I got dressed. As much as I hated the thing, once I was in my gaff, I at least I felt like a real person. Not half in between. The subway was crammed and I had some guy's crotch being rubbed into my back for three stops. At least there wasn't much to do today. Sadie and I were doing some looping for places where the sound recording was bad. Tedious, as you had to try and sync yourself with the footage, but not taxing. My one glimmer of hope was that I might bump into Jacob. Becca Friday afternoon. Alaska Air Flight 327 from L.A. to Seattle. I had been out there on business, visiting the set of a pilot we were financing. Another comedy about an upper middle class family, this time Latino. Personally, I didn't get it and Louise laughed at me. 'There are a lot of people between here and New York, and a lot of people older than you,' she said, 'and they watch the networks.' Uh huh. I got that. I just didn't think this show was that good. I was on my way back to Seattle for the weekend. Ever since the breakfast with Kelly, I had been feeling guilty. Jordan was three years old and I saw him once a year in person. I'd Face Time with him every few weeks but he'd look at the screen for a while, and say 'hi' when Stephen or Emily would prompt him ('look it's Aunt Becca!'), but then he'd walk away. Besides, have you ever talked to a three year old? They don't have much to say. Anyway, I needed the break and was already on the west coast, used to the time change. So, I figured, why not? Maybe I'd do better in person. I was in a crappy mood. At the airport, I had seen a little blonde in leggings and a hoodie and, for a second, thought it was Alex. It wasn't unreasonable. If he was going to keep acting, he'd be in L.A. sooner or later. I hoped he would be. It was three weeks already and I was getting tired of looking at the boxes of his stuff. He just needed to get someone to come and collect it. I didn't want to, couldn't see him and didn't want him alone in my apartment. This was his fault, not mine. I could have thrown his shit away but I didn't. So, the least he could do was send someone for it. I'm sure Monica had an intern she could send. Whatever. One more week and it was going to Goodwill. The sole saving grace was that the flight wasn't full, so I had my window seat and the seat next to me. I hated flying coach, inevitably crammed up against a big fat guy or someone with a squalling baby. I was sitting there, my bag next to me, when a guy stood over me. "Is this row 24?" he said, smiling. About 5'11, 190 lbs. with brownish-red hair and brown eyes. Wearing a suit, no tie. "Yes," I said, looking at him. "Is my stuff in your seat? I can move it." I was reviewing movie treatments, to see if anything was worth producing, and had them spread over the middle seat. I felt bad. I remembered from film school, the people in the screenwriting program laboring over every word, every comma. Only to find out that someone like me was reviewing just a five or ten page treatment. "Not at all. I'm the aisle," he said, taking what looked like legal papers out of his bag. He put them on top of mine. "I'll take them off in a second," and then slid his bag under the seat. I noticed that the bag had a Paramount logo on it. I always liked Paramount. The logo, a mountain with stars around it, reminded me of Mount Rainier, of home. "Hopefully, no one comes and takes our office," he joked. I smiled and laughed politely. "Here's hoping." Oh god, I hoped he wasn't one of those people on a plane who wants to talk. I really wasn't in the mood to talk now. I'd have to talk all weekend and didn't want to now. He wasn't, at least not initially. We both sat in our seats, quietly reading, while the plane was held for takeoff. After about an hour of sitting there, he turned to me, "Jeez, I wonder what's going on." Neither the flight attendants nor the pilot had said anything. Not that there was anything to say. It was like when the subway was 'being held by supervision.' You were stuck regardless. "What do you think?" Again, I smiled politely. "No idea. Probably some plane has engine trouble or something. Or they didn't coordinate. Or it's L.A. on Friday." I had no idea what that meant, but it sounded good. He smiled. "I'm Jared," he said. "Jared Marmon." I started to say 'Becca,' but went with "Rebecca Scott," as I offered my hand. "Nice to meet you." I was about to go back to my papers when he said, "So, what's taking you to Seattle, Rebecca?" Shit, he was a seat talker and we hadn't even taken off yet. "Family. My parents and my older brother are there." And now I guess I had to. "What about you?" "Same," he said, smiling. "Where are they?" I smiled. "Parents are on Mercer. My brother lives in Washington Park. You?" At least, he didn't say, 'Mercer? Nice,' or something like that. "Bellevue. So do you live in LA?" "Nah, New York," I said. "I was in L.A. for work. Figured I'd shoot up, see the fam." "What do you do?" "I'm in the movie business." That sounded pompous. "I work for Louise Quinn, she's a..." He smiled, a grin somewhere between smug and charming. "A producer. I know who she is. We do work for her." "Who's we?" I asked. "My firm. Gibson Dunn." "I figured you were a lawyer," I laughed. "What gave it away?" He smiled. He did have a nice smile. "The sallow skin? The bags under my eyes?" I joked. "The scent of dead bodies on you...so what's with the Paramount bag?" "We did a deal for them. I worked 16 hours a day and I got this great bag!" He shrugged. "Price of the game. So, what is it you do for Louise?" He ran a hand through his thick hair. "What I do?" I said, emphasizing 'do,' "I'm a producer." I moved his brief and held up my papers. "These are treatments I'm reviewing...What sort of lawyer are you?" "Corporate," and held up a contract. "We should probably both get back to work," and he looked back down at his papers. We both spent the rest of the time waiting (another hour) and the flight doing work. I kept expecting him to say something, anything. Even, 'buy you a drink' when the flight attendant came around. But, nothing. When I got up to go to the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked OK. I was dressed for work, in a suit and makeup. I came back to the row and apologized as I went in. "No worries." He spoke without taking his eyes off his papers, After a while, I needed a break from reading treatments, and I started flicking through my phone. At some point, I came across a picture of me and Alex. I looked at the picture of us in the park, taken before we started everything, the two of us smiling. We had gone to SummerStage with Tom and Chloe, to see some mopey singer-songwriter Tom and Alex liked. We looked happy. We landed in Seattle and my sister-in-law was outside the gate with my nephew. I came over and gave her a kiss, and she looked me up and down. "Look at you. Big shot producer. I like the new look." It was only a suit and a button down shirt. What else was she expecting? "It's a good look for you." I smiled. "Thanks." I leaned down. "Hey, Jordan..." And he responded by hiding behind Emily's legs. "Are we playing hide and go seek now?" He grabbed on tight to her leg. She smiled apologetically. "He gets nervous around people he doesn't know well." Then, she looked down. "Jordy, it's aunt Becca. Can you say hi to her? Say hi." He shook his head. I looked at her. "If he doesn't want to...so, thanks for coming. How did you get drafted?" This got a genuine smile. "Your dad and Stephen are at work, surprise, surprise. And your mom has something for the program...I hope you don't mind." I laughed. "Not at all. I don't worry when I'm driving with you." My mother got distracted. My father had a lead foot. And Stephen learned from him. "Besides, maybe by the time we get home, Jordy will say something to me." We got my luggage and went to her Range Rover. Why they needed a Range Rover with one kid was beyond me, but that's what everyone they knew drove, so what can you do? As we pulled onto I-5, she smiled. "Seeing anyone?" I looked at the visor. "Did my mom put you up to that?" I tried to joke. It came out harsh. She half-laughed. "Sorry, Becca. I didn't mean anything..." I looked over at her. "Sorry, Em. That came out the wrong way. The answer is no." And I thought back to the picture at SummerStage. And then to the picture of Alex and...Jacob. The two of them in the pool. Jacob cradling him in his arms. And them kissing. Not a peck. Not a Disney kids' show kiss. A real kiss. Fucking #Jallie. And I gave a laugh that hopefully not too forced. "And you know she's going to grill me, so I'm sorry..." She laughed. "No apologies necessary. I get 'where's number 2' from mine, so I get it. Hey, Jordy, can you sing us the song from school?" And he launched into a version of 'What a Wonderful World,' that stupid, sappy song they play in movies when they want you to feel sentimental. He kept going for a couple of exits, missing a bunch of words and swallowing the rest. He finished and Emily said, "Great job Jordy! Wasn't that great, Aunt Becca?" Sure. I reached back to give him a fist bump and he turned away from me. Whatever. Em's phone rang and she turned on the bluetooth. "Hey, Jen!" My mom. "I've got Becca here." "Hey mom," I said, mustering up all the enthusiasm I could muster. Which wasn't much. "Hey, Becca. Hi, Jordy! How was school today? Did you play in the playground?" With that, every word that Jordy wouldn't say to me came gushing out in a torrent of swallowed syllables and big grins. My mom just kept saying things like 'wow, that sounds like fun.' Whatever. Every word she said to him was one less one to me. For now. We pulled up to the house and I kissed and thanked Em. She smiled. "You're welcome. See you tomorrow." I came into the house and my mom met me with a hug and kiss. "Hey, BecBec," my childhood nickname. Normally, I didn't like it but I didn't mind it right now. Then, a more somber tone. "How are you doing?" I smiled. "Fine. Tired." "I mean since the breakup." She had found out from my Facebook. If I didn't use it for work, I wouldn't have it. I'm not 40. "I told you last week, I'm fine." I walked towards my room. She followed me. "Has she come for her stuff yet?" The word 'her' felt like I was being stabbed. "No." I said, putting my bag on the trunk at the foot of my bed. "She," and I choked on that, "hasn't." It was weird. My mom. She had been surprisingly OK when I told her about Alex, in the most awkward phone conversation ever. "So, uh, mom, I'm, uh, seeing someone..." I said, grateful that she still used the phone and not FaceTime or whatever. "Oh, who is she?" She? I almost choked. "Um, her name is Alyx. But, but, but..." "I'm your mother, Rebecca," she said, in that stupid condescending tone she had. "Meaning?" I wasn't being combative. I truly had no idea what she meant. "I've known since you were five." What the fuck? What the actual fuck? "I haven't said anything to your father, in case you're worried. Not that he'd mind. You know how much he loves Claire..." "But, but, but," I stammered. I imagined my mother being grateful I had chosen a visual medium to express myself. "But, I've dated guys. What made you think..." "You stammered," I could hear her smirk. "You and your father both do that when you don't want to tell me something. Otherwise, you just say it. So tell me about Alyx...". And I did, telling her how she cooked and was sweet, which made her happy. Well, that was old news now. She continued, "Do you want to talk about it?" "No," I said. "I don't. We broke up. What else is there?" "Who broke up with who?" This was not the first time she had asked this. And this was not the first time that I gave the answer. "Stop, mom. We're not together. Why does who matter?" "It doesn't. You looked very happy together. You made a great couple." "Made. We don't make one, mom. We made." I looked at my bag, remembering Allie unpacking. "What happened?" Well, my girlfriend, who's a guy maybe, cheated on me...with another guy. Couldn't really say that. She wouldn't understand. Not that I did. I gritted my teeth. "It was three weeks ago." Three and a half. "It's over. I don't want to talk about...her anymore. How's the arts program going? What show are you doing next?" "In the Heights. It's Lin-Manuel's first musical." Lin-Manuel. Like she and Lin-Manuel Miranda were friends. "Sounds great. If I can swing being here, I'll come." She smiled, a dubious smile. "Sure." I went over and started unpacking, my mother taking things from me and refolding them. "None of you know how to fold clothes," she said, with a smile. "How's Chloe? "I have no idea, ma," I said, handing her things. "What happened?" Allie. Allie happened. "Nothing." "You two were so close." She looked at my t shirts and jeans, and gave me a strange look. "Is this your new look?" "Is there a problem?" "No. It's very...it doesn't matter what it is. Why did you stop?" Because she's a bitch. A judgmental bitch. Because she chose my boyfriend, girlfriend, whatever the fuck, over me. "I don't want to talk about it. Not her. Not Alex. I should have flown home." She hated when I called New York 'home.' Seattle was supposed to be home. That Robert Frost line about it being the place where, when you go there, they have to take you came to mind. "I'm trying to help," she snapped. On the other hand, when you went home, you had to take them. "I know. And you can help by not talking about them. Why do you care anyway? Alyx and I aren't together, Chloe and I aren't friends, that's it." She stared at me. "I'm serious." "Fine, Rebecca," she said. "It isn't healthy to keep things bottled up." "There's nothing up that I am bottling." My father used to joke with us about ending sentences with prepositions. We'd compete to make the most ridiculous sentence, the winner still being the hypothetical, "Help, help. My sister is drowning and the water is that under which she has gone, down to the dock is where the firemen should go.' The joke failed. "Rebecca, you need to talk about this." Talk about what? Allie in Jacob's arms. Sorry, my boyfriend in another guy's arms, kissing him. My boyfriend in bed with another guy, having sex. Being fucked. Look, I wasn't stupid or naive. I knew things happened on movie sets. I had heard stories about people hooking up. Maybe I was stupid to expect Allie to stay celibate for two months. Even if I had. She was in the middle of nowhere and bored. And couldn't go drinking, as she never tired of pointing out. And I guess you can only play so much XBox or watch so much Netflix. But, this was a bridge too far. And now my mother was hovering over me, asking me questions. With all the empathy I could muster, I said, "I don't want to, mom. I'm done talking about it." I hadn't actually talked about it with anyone. How do you tell someone that you broke up, but without them asking why? "It's over. With Allie and Chloe. And I am tired, not just of that. Actually physically tired." With that, she left, saying, 'I'll let you know when dinner's ready.' I looked around the room, at my life from 0-18. My stuffed bear. My letter for high school tennis. The picture of me, other Becca, Lindsey and Megan, at high school graduation. The last I heard, Megan was back here, living with her parents while she completed grad school at U-Dub. Maybe I'd call her, see what was going on? We hadn't fought or anything, just fallen out of touch, maintaining a social media friendship. I found my old racket and a tennis ball in the closet, and started bouncing the ball off it, at a low height. I got up to 100 and then started flipping the racket over with each bounce. There was something hypnotic, relaxing about watching it bounce and trying to keep it low enough that I didn't hit it hard enough to lose control. Of course, you can only do that for so long before you end up mental. I put it down and went back to reading treatments. Single moms in the 1970s and superheros. That was it. Other than Kelly. An hour later, it was dinner. I went downstairs and saw my dad there. "Hey," I smiled, "I thought you had a dinner meeting." He smiled, "Pushed back to drinks at 9, so I figured I'd come home for a bit. How's work?" That I could deal with. I smiled, "I was just reading treatments. Usual crap," I said. My mom looked at me. "You used to be about that crap." I looked at her and said, "And now I'm not. Besides, it's just an expression." "Of someone's work, of their view." My dad looked at me and rolled his eyes. "Jen, I don't think Becca meant crap in the coprophilic sense." That got a look. My mom hated when he used, in her words, 'prolix and abstruse jargon.' "I think it's more..." I looked at my mother, "Sorry, what I meant was there are certain types of scripts that keep coming in, the same stories, the same formulas. Not that they were bad in and of themselves. More just I'd like to see something different. We just optioned this book 'DaneLaw.' It's a mystery that takes place in England, they find a dead au pair..." My dad smiled. "Is this the one that Kelly whatshername you were showing around wrote?" My mother looked at him, then me. "Who's Kelly whatshername?" I smiled. "Kelly Cooper. The author. She's British and it is a phenomenal book. You should both read it." My mother looked at me. "British, hm?" I knew where she was going and tried to head her off. "So's Shakespeare, ma. And she's married with a kid." Smooth move. "And I already said that I don't want to talk about it." My father cut into his salmon. If nothing else, being home meant fresh Pacific salmon. You couldn't get it in New York. "What's it?" "Alyx. I asked her..." My mom crossed her arms. My father looked at her indulgently. "Jen. Leave her be. They broke up. She doesn't want to talk about it. Let it go." Then he smiled at me. "Thank you Mark. I appreciate the support," she snapped. "Mom, he didn't do anything. I said that I don't want to talk about it. You do. I don't. And it's my life, so back off." "Becca, apologize to your mother." My father said without looking up. "Sorry, ma. Like I said before, work has been crazy. And there is nothing to say. Why does everyone want a reason anyway? So someone can be right and someone be wrong? No one is wrong or right." Except Alex, who's wrong. And me, who's right. She looked at me and then my father. And didn't say anything, just looked disappointed. We spent the rest of the dinner talking about Lin- Manuel and my father's latest deal, the one with AI and banking. "May I be excused?" I asked. My father laughed, "You're an adult, Becca." I shrugged. "Something about being here. Anyway, I'm going to go for a walk. I'll see you in the morning probably, right?" My mother started to say something but I left before she could. When I left the house, I cursed myself for not taking my earbuds. I started walking along, just looking at the houses, remembering my old neighbors. I knew that the Sterns had moved to a houseboat on Lake Union when their last kid graduated college. I remembered seeing them when I was a kid, thinking about how cool it would be to live on a boat, to pick up and go when you wanted. As I got older, I realized that the houses on the lake were moored in their place. No more than glorified trailers. And how now the funky people who used to live there were being replaced by partners at Perkins Coie whose kids had left the nest. But it still seemed cool to me. I just walked around, listening to the 'tick tick tick' of the lawn sprinklers going around, remembering how when we were kids, we'd walk around and Charlie would try and push me under one. How I'd come home whining about it and my mother would punish him and then tell me it was fine, it was just water. Which made me think of Alex, how excited he was to go kayaking. How he kept asking Tom if they'd be ready. How that was the last good weekend we spent together. I walked around for an hour before I came back. I walked in and went into the great room, where my mother was sitting on the couch. "Hey. mom." "Hi. Did you have a nice walk?" I shrugged. "Yeah." "Are you calmer now?" "I wasn't not calm before," I said. "Are you ready to talk?" "Like I said before, there's nothing to discuss." "Fine. I won't mention Allie." I laughed inwardly, knowing that was an utter lie. She'd last until maybe the morning. If I was lucky. "What happened with Chloe?" I sighed. "Why can't we just not be friends anymore? Why is Chloe so damn important to you?" She picked up a magazine and put it down. "She's a good friend to you." "She was. And now we're not friends." "You've been friends since film school. She stayed in this house. And now she's gone. That seems a little curious to me." I looked at her, thinking of Allie and Chloe dancing around the living room, her in Allie's dress. And Chloe calling me out on the dress for Louise's party. And Allie sleeping on their couch when she came back, which she didn't think I knew about. I wanted to say something to my mother about that and see what her reaction was. But then I'd have to listen to her. "Yeah, well." That was much better. "Friendships take work, Rebecca." "Uh huh," I said, picking some home design magazine and studying it intently. Ooh, sconces. "You have to work at them. You can't just let them die." "Uh huh. She's my friend. Why are you so invested in this?" She paused. "Fine. If you don't care, I don't." That hurt. She was supposed to care. That was her job. To care. I went with, "I don't. So don't." It took me a while to fall asleep. I laid in my bed, thinking. About Alex. And my mother. I couldn't for the life of me understand why she just wouldn't let it go. She didn't know him, know anything about him. All she knew was what Wendy fucking Schwartzman told her, that 'she was cute and sweet,' which she would have liked. I pictured them in the kitchen, cooking and laughing. I wondered what she would have done when she found out Alex was a cheater. I took out my phone and, like staring at a car wreck, I looked at a picture of Alex and Jacob in the pool, him with his arms loosely around Jacob's neck and smiling from ear to ear. All I could think was 'well, I guess the glue stands up to chlorine.' I put my phone on my nightstand, face down and thought about Kelly. I woke up the next morning and my dad was downstairs in his cycling gear. He was in great shape for a guy his age, but he looked ridiculous in his lycra shorts and racing jersey. "Hey dad, Tour De France coming through?" "You know people say, 'that joke never gets old?' That joke gets old," he said, grinning. "How was last night?" I shrugged. "She's trying to help," he sighed. I made a cup of coffee, popping in one of the Bustelo pods my father ordered online. I could get it in New York in the bodega on my corner, but only drank it here. "She's not. She's getting on my nerves. It's over. That's it. Move along folks. Nothing to see here." I took a sip. "You going out or coming back?" He smiled. "Back. Was up at 5:30 for a call with Seoul and figured I may as well get in a ride. 20 miles. Each way." I looked down at my t shirts and sweats. "Damn. Now, I'm tired. Maybe, I'll go for a run or something. Before she gets up." He took the cup out of my hand and put in on the counter. "Rebecca, I get it. She does it to me too. That's the way she is. But she is actually concerned for you." "I get that, dad. But there is really nothing to say. I told her yesterday. I don't see a point in going over what happened." My boyfriend playing my girlfriend went Method and cheated on me with a guy. "The deal is dead. Figuring out who did what does nothing. Alex knows what happened and I know. We're the only two people who need to know." "Agreed." Then he looked at me. "But she's not letting it go. So, you need to figure out how to deal with it." "I am dealing with it," I heard myself whine. It felt like high school again. I think it was the air here or something. He looked at me and rolled his eyes. "You think if I told her about Chloe, that would shut her up?" He smiled, his 'good job' smile. "Fine," I moaned, as he walked out to go shower. I went upstairs to change for my run when my mother knocked on the door. "Good morning, Becca. Where are you off to?" "I figured I'd go for a run before Steve and Emily's." I paused, thinking about what my dad asked. "Sorry about yesterday." He didn't rat me out about Alex. I owed him one. "That's fine. I'm sorry I pushed you." Huh. "It's just that I'm worried." Oh. Great. "Do you mind if I come with you?" I didn't have a choice. "Sure." We went out for a run. She nodded towards one of the houses. "The Leonards just had a grandchild." OK. "That's great." "A little boy. Jeff and his husband." I didn't know he was gay. "He's a lovely man. I met him at their holiday party." "Cool. Good for Jeff." I never cared for Jeff. He was a friend of Charlie's and they'd both kick me out of wherever they were. And now he was out. And so was I. Even though I wasn't sure that I was in before. "You seem very taciturn." Living with my parents was SAT prep every day. On the other hand, we all kicked ass on the verbal part. I got a 720, which was better than all the rest of them. "I'm just thinking. I don't get to do this enough." She smiled at me. "Me either. I miss having you here." I meant go for runs, because of my schedule. But, if it made her happy... I smiled. Hey, take the credit when offered. "Mom," I said, "here's the deal with Chloe." I wasn't looking at her but I could feel her smiling. "It's been weird. Ever since, I took the new job, it's like she's jealous of me." "Sometimes, it's hard when that happens. I remember when Mindy," a friend of hers from law school who I couldn't stand and who we had to see every time we went to New York. I fooled around with her son, who couldn't kiss, "got the job in the Southern District, it killed me. It absolutely killed me. But I swallowed my pride..." "And if you were Chloe's mom, this would be great advice," I sneered. I tried not to, though. She took a sharp breath. "And what I was going to say was, was that she also gave a little and didn't talk a lot about it, not at first." "Mom, so I can't talk because it might upset her? Don't you think that's a little fucked up?" "I didn't say that and don't curse. I was just saying that, if it matters to you, you could, I don't know, tone it down." This was really bullshit. Not about Chloe. I didn't care about Chloe anymore. She was all about Alex. Good. Let them have each other. I didn't care, except for Tom's sake. But, I couldn't imagine Louise toning it down. But I behaved myself. "She wasn't even cool when I was doing the documentary. She resented Rachel or something. Like I can't have other friends." That was the wrong thing to say. "What did Rachel say when you quit?" "I didn't quit, mom. I moved sides is all." "She had an assistant director..." "Assistant to the director as she always told people..." "Titles aren't important. You were doing this together. You were excited about it. I heard it in your voice and you just quit on her..." I started to get really pissed. "I didn't quit on her. Anyone can edit...." She didn't let me finish, to explain how I was getting to know people at film festivals, cable channels, the kind of people who could get the film seen. How I could do more good for Rachel and women that way. Instead, she smirked. "I'm so glad we sent you to film school then," and then picked up her pace. "I'll pay you back," I snapped, matching her stride for stride. "That's not what this is about and you know it, Rebecca. You believed in that project and then, after one meeting, one party, you just gave it up..." I was really angry. And hurt. My own mother called me a sellout. So much for Robert Frost. I tried not to yell. Or cry. Instead, I calmly said, "well, it's good to know what you think of me. At least I know dad's proud of me." I said that to hurt her. I knew it would hurt her. She never said it but I think she was one of the few people in Seattle who was actively happy when the Sonics left. She knew it meant something to me to go and that I wouldn't be able to go. That I'd be stuck with her. Well, I was an adult now. I lived a continent away. I could pay my own rent and then some. I really picked up my pace and all I heard was 'that's not what I meant, Becca...' When I got far enough away, I looped back and ran home, standing in the driveway and gasping for breath. She came up next to me. "Becca..." I started to say 'fuck you,' but she was still my mom. "You've said enough." "I'm sorry but..." "Leave me alone." I was still breathing heavily. I needed to make time for exercise. And eating better. I was eating out more and, even when I was home, I was eating takeout ever since Alex left. I missed his salmon in lemon butter. Kelly told me how she cooked everything, how 'Fee was hopeless.' "Becca, I didn't mean..." "Yes you did. You meant it. Excuse me but I need to shower and see about switching my flight." Bullseye. She started to cry. She looked at me like I was supposed to come over to her. I didn't. Instead, I left her standing there and went up to my room, angrily throwing my dirty clothes on the floor. Yeah, I showed her. I got into the shower and angrily soaped myself up. Me and Lady MacBeth. I got out of the shower and got dressed. With wet hair, I logged on to see about changing my flight. I'd eat whatever the cost was. There was no reason Louise had to pay for my fucked up family. I was halfway through the process when I heard a knock. "BecBec," my mother said quietly. "Leave me alone. I'm trying to change my flight." "BecBec," she whimpered. "Please. Don't." "I said leave me alone. And don't call me BecBec. I'm not your little kid anymore. Everyone else recognizes that. It's time that you do." OK. I was a class A bitch. She started to cry. "Is that supposed to make me feel bad?" It did. I felt like shit. But she didn't care if I felt like shit. So why should I? I half expected her to say something. Once upon a time, she was a lawyer. And then she was the woman who wouldn't take shit from any of us. And now she was sitting here crying. Jesus. I moved her off my bed, cramming my stuff back into my bag. "I'll get an Uber. In the meantime, could you please get out of my way?" Jacob I could see Allie over by the set, talking to Razor. Her head bobbed up and down as he talked, her focus completely on him. I couldn't hear what was being said but I noticed when Razor put his hand on her arm. There was no way I was going to get to talk to her so I headed back to the waiting area. "Why so glum, chum?" It was Jane. "My grandpa used to say that." I smiled at her weakly. "Yeah well." I shrugged. She looked over my shoulder, "Razor seems to have your girlfriend cornered." "She's not my girlfriend." Even I could tell that sounded lame. "Really?" Jane brought her cup of coffee up to her lips to disguise her smile. "That's not what my Twitter feed says. My little cousin keeps bugging me for pictures." "Huh." I said noncommittally. I wanted to say, 'it's not my fault, I'd be with her if she let me.' "She's caught up in her ex. A girl. I don't even know if she likes boys. Or me." Jane's grin got even wider, if that was possible. "Oh, I think she does." I turned to see where Jane was looking and just caught Allie looking away. She probably thought I had a thing with Jane now. I turned back to Jane. "It's not happening. She doesn't want it." Jane hid her mouth with her cup again. "Look sharp." She winked, then darted away. Turning around I saw Allie, Razor and some woman in a suit heading in our direction. "Hey kid." I hated Razor as he slapped me on the shoulder. "Do you know Louise?" I shook my head. I vaguely remembered her from the auditions but I didn't think we'd talked. "Louise is the head of the studio. She's come to talk to the two of you about the premiere. You two are going in a golden coach." Allie looked like she wanted to dig a hole and hide in it. Her hair wasn't long enough to hide behind, but she was giving it a good go. Louise touched Razor on the arm. "That's his little joke. But as you know, once post is out of the way, we do have the premiere to think about." She looked between the two of us. Allie was staring at the floor. She looked cute in her jeans and Sonic Youth t-shirt. I could feel my mouth going dry. "Given the heat the two of you are getting on social media, it makes sense for you to go together." She smiled at us. I wasn't sure how to react. Part of me was overjoyed I'd have another chance. Then I looked over at Allie and my heart sunk. She was burning bright red. Probably worrying what Becca was going to say. --- We met early at the WorkSpace offices in Hell's Kitchen. An old warehouse had been converted into work spaces for companies and freelancers. Full of trendy looking people who made me feel like a dork. A smiling girl with asymmetrical blue hair came up to me. "Hi!" She had no business being so perky this early. "Erm hi. Louise Quinn sent me for the, er, fitting." I glanced around, not seeing anyone I knew. "Of course. I know who you are. I'm a big fan of Shortest Root." She blushed. Leaning in, she mock whispered, "My girlfriends are going to be sooo jealous!" Laying it on a bit thick. She seemed to bounce as she led me through an arch into a slightly smaller space. I noticed Allie immediately. It was hard to miss her. She was standing in the center of the room, surrounded by about ten people, all staring at her clothes. Not that I blamed them. She was wearing a figure hugging dress that went all the way to the floor. In fact, it hugged her so closely I thought it could have been some sort of medieval torture device, although the sequins did distract from that. Unless the plan was to blind the captive. "No, it's too old." My heart sank. It was Becca. I recognized her from Allie's Twitter. She was wearing a pair of tailored pants, a button down shirt and boots with a heel. She towered over Allie like a Disney villain. All that was missing was 101 Dalmatians "I like it. It's glamorous. Even if I can hardly move. You can wheel me up the red carpet." Allie looked up and, for the first time, she saw me. She bit her lip. Becca followed where she was looking and glared at me. She looked at me, then Allie. "Let's try the next one." For a moment, I was forgotten as they led Allie away. The bouncy girl leaned into me. "They've been at it since eight." I looked at my watch, that was two hours ago. Judging by the long racks filled with clothes, they weren't close to done with it yet. I was taken to a side room where I was given coffee and left to my own devices. "We can't start on you until we've got an idea of what she'll be wearing. It all needs to coordinate." I nodded. I didn't mind, I had my music and an audio book. I'd learned to expect a wait. She left the door open so I could just get a glimpse of what was happening and could hear, if I focused. Allie came out in a pink dress and heels. Very pink. Almost Pepto-Bismol pink. It was strapless and the skirt poofed out a little. She looked miserable. Becca smiled. "I like this. She looks adorable." Allie glared at her. "I look. Like. I'm. 14." Becca smiled back. "Your brand is young. You look on brand. The other dress was too old for you. You looked like a little girl playing dress up." Allie glared and Becca looked at the stylists. "Am I wrong?" She put her hand on Allie's arm. "Allie, honey, I know what you're thinking. But, the gossip sites will have a field day with you if you go in the other one. You need to be 8, 10 years older to pull that off. Trust me, you don't want to know what they'll do to you." She wasn't wrong but I didn't like the way she was making Allie feel. "So, you'd rather I look like I'm going to a school dance? Really, Becca?" She looked over at me, imploringly. Becca saw and half-glared and half-smiled at me. She walked over to the rack and pulled off another pink dress and handed it to Allie abruptly. "Try this one." She came out in a pale pink dress with little straps on the shoulders. It came below the knee, but it didn't make her hobble like the first one I saw. There were flowers printed on it. She looked beautiful. And sexy. Not too old and not too young. Becca 'What the hell did I ever see in you?', I thought, as Allie came out in this ridiculous low cut black mermaid dress. I looked at her and said, "No. You look ridiculous, Allie." She smiled, his jewelry store commercial smile. "I don't know. I think I look glamorous." I joked, "You'll look really glamorous when you do a faceplant." I thought she'd remember the first time she tried on heels and pitched forward onto the bed. How I pinned her and tickled her. She didn't. "I will be fine, Becca," she said, in kind of a whine. "I can walk just fine, see?" And she did. She actually did look kind of sexy. But the dress was all wrong. I tried to reason with her. "Allie, honey, that dress is way too old for you." It was. I hated Jallie with all of my being but what made it work was how young and cute she was. I could only picture what the makeup artist would think would go. She'd look like my friends and I did in middle school, the first time we tried makeup. I handed her another dress, a pink poofy one. "What's making you is how young and fresh you are." I looked at Crissy, the stylist. "Am I wrong?" Allie glared at her and she, the coward, said, "Um, why don't we see how it looks." Allie's face reminded me of when it was her turn to take out the compost bin. It was pink, strapless and would come to just above her knees. She didn't say anything, just grabbed it from Crissy and stormed off. Crissy looked at me. "You really want her to wear that?" I said, "It's not that bad. It's young. That's her brand, no?" "Yeah, sure." Then she paused, as Allie came out and stomped over. She really had gotten much better on heels. Crissy was right. It was too young. She glared at me. "I. Look. Like. I'm. 14." Actually, she didn't. She looked 13 and ridiculous. I had worn a dress like it to my friend Megan's bat mitzvah. And I fought my mother over it, saying it looked 'babyish.' I should have said something like, 'you're right. Go take it off.' Her brand was young, not 'Lolita.' But, just then, I saw him walk in. Jacob. And Jallie came back to mind. Fucking Jallie. The interns in the office couldn't stop talking about how cute they were together. Then, they'd add how great it was for the movie, all the free publicity. Olivia, a stupid 20 year old Tisch School shit talked about how jealous she was. Of Allie. How she'd trade places with her in a heartbeat. It made me want to crawl under my desk. Louise would just look at me and say, "Set happens." And I'd have to laugh, thankfully not a lot. Just enough to show I could play along. Then, I'd want to cry or punch someone. "Your brand is young. You look on brand. It's what the money people want. The other dress was too old for you. You looked like a little girl playing dress up." Allie glared at me. I couldn't help smiling. Then, she looked over at Jacob. I gave a quick nod to one of the junior people and she moved him into another room. I put my hand on Allie's arm. "Allie, honey, I know what you're thinking. But, the gossip sites will have a field day with you if you go in the other one. You need to be 8, 10 years older to pull that off. Trust me, you don't want to know what they'll do to you." "So, you'd rather I look like I'm going to a school dance? Really, Becca?" At that moment, she didn't look angry, just hurt. And deflated. I almost felt bad for her. "Can we speak in private? Away from everyone?" I hated those big blue eyes. The light brown eyeliner she was wearing really accentuated them, and I wanted to hold her again. To kiss her gently. To be us again. "Fine," I sighed. "Hang on, everybody. We'll be back in five." I led her across the floor to an empty conference room, across the floor from where he was. I didn't want him anywhere near us. Oh, and it was fun making her walk around in that ridiculous poofy Pepto-Bismol dress. One woman in another office saw her and covered her mouth, giggling, while I rolled my eyes and shrugged. She plopped herself in a chair, fumbling with the skirt, trying to tuck it under her gracefully. And failing. Miserably. I laughed and she snapped, "Are you happy now?" I smiled. "Happy with what?" "You've humiliated me," she pouted. "You've absolutely humiliated me." "Stop pouting. It's a bad look on you." So she glared at me. "What did you think, Alyx? That you were going to come in, throw on some ridiculous dress and that would be that? Really? That's not how this process works. Even the densest actress knows that. " "No. But I didn't think you were going to try and get even with me," she yelled, waving her hands up and down. I was ready to play nicely with her. I was. But, then she said that? Game on, Jallie. "First, don't yell. This is an office with other people and we don't need this on social media. Second, get even? Get even?" I laughed. "Sweetie, I don't know what you're thinking, but this is not about you. This is about the movie of which, by the way, you're not the star. Sadie is. You're very good in it, don't get me wrong. But this is most definitely not about you..." "Really? You really expect me to believe that, out of every dress on the rack, you picked this one because it's on brand? I know you never thought much of me, but I am not that stupid..." She wasn't yelling. She didn't need to. If this was a cartoon, steam would be coming out of her ears. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the little princess was having her period. I retained my composure. "Oh, stop playing the victim, Allie. It doesn't work." OK, maybe I didn't retain my composure. "I am a professional. I don't care about you. I care about the movie and only the movie." She looked down at the floor, the way she did when she didn't want to start a fight. Well, she had. "You're the young girl in the movie. You're the young girl in your commercials," and I put my hands up to my mouth. "That's who you are now. And young girls don't walk around in ridiculous mermaid dresses. K?" She stood up. "You've made your point about me, Ms. Scott." Oooh, tough. "Well, I'm not wearing this. If this is my option, I won't go." I rolled my eyes. "Really? You're going to miss your big premiere? Over a dress?" "Yes," she snapped. I could see the tears forming in her eyes. I wanted to hold her, but I didn't. "I will." "Check with Monica before you do that. I'm pretty sure that's breach of contract. But whatever. Do what you have to. Get Jacob to take pictures for you." She was really fighting back the tears. "Don't make this about him," she sniffled. "Please don't. I'll wear this stupid dress if I have to, but leave him alone. You win. Let's go pick out shoes...." I had thought I was going to be elated. But I hated this feeling. I hated that I'd beat her down. I hated that I beat her down so easily. I hated that I beat her because she wanted to protect him. Her boyfriend. My boyfriend's boyfriend. I smiled. OK, I probably smirked. But I meant to smile. "Allie, there are a lot of other dresses on the rack out there." I touched her arm and I could tell she was thinking about pulling it away. But she didn't. "This is a collaborative process. We have to decide what works best for you. Crissy, me and you. You'll get to try on lots of dresses and shoes. It's fun." OK, that was harsh, Becca. She kept pouting. "We can make it fun. It's part of the whole process, Allie. Just embrace for what it is." She turned and wiped away a tear. "If you give me another dress like this, I'm walking out and not coming back." I tried to joke. "Maybe change into your street clothes before." Based on her glare, the same one I had seen in the kidnapping scene, the one that unnerved everyone, it failed. "It was a joke, lighten up. Anyway, I'll make you a deal. You don't storm off in a huff again and we will pick a dress that works for you. And your brand." She mumbled, "The first dress worked." I should have let it go. "That's a dress for sitting. Or lying down." She looked miserable, making me feel bad. But then I thought about her and Jacob, and I felt worse. "Becca, enough. Please," she begged. "Can we please agree to act professionally, at least? Those people out there are waiting for us and it's not fair to them." That was Alex. Always thinking about everyone else. I remembered the Thursday before the weekend at Tom's parents, before it all turned to shit. We were out walking by the river in Brooklyn Heights, when we saw this old man with a cane. Even with the cane, he was struggling. Allie went over and led him to a bench, offering him some of her water and talking to him. After a few minutes, the old man smiled and told us we could go, he'd be fine. He got up and was still a little unsteady. Allie wouldn't leave him alone and we walked slowly back to his apartment, on Hicks. It was the opposite of where we were going but Allie held his hand the entire time, talking to him and telling him that she was an actress. He told her of how he and his late wife went to London in the 1960s and how they saw Peter O'Toole and Richard Burton together. When we got to his apartment, he thanked us profusely and told me how lucky I was to have Allie and I believed him. I wondered what he'd think now. Probably blame me. "I always act professionally." Yup, Becca. Bitch is a good look for you. You need to get laid. "Let's go have fun!" We went back out to everyone. Crissy pulled me aside. "Is everything OK?" I said it was fine and she asked, "do you two have, y'know, a history?" I smiled and said, sotto voce, "Yes. Ancient history. Anyway, I think she's calmed down. Let's let her think she's part of this." I walked over to the rack, and took a pale pink dress, with a floral print. Not an old lady couch print, but subtle and very feminine. Below knee length. It had straps, a little bigger than spaghetti straps, on the shoulder. I looked at Crissy, who smiled and took a pair of a pink 4" heels. "What do you think, Allie," she asked, with a smile. Alex "Hey, Allie, you wanna grab a cup of coffee?" Sadie and I had just finished looping dialogue, to make up for the room noise in one of the opening scenes. Sadie had become if not a friend, a sort of mentor. After the Clip Clop debacle, she had taken me to dinner. 'Allie, you have real potential but next time don't lie.' I must've looked sick because she laughed. 'Everyone lies, sweetie. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Next time though, go for riding lessons. What saved your ass is your ass.' After that, I began asking her for tips, not just about acting but career advice. She laughed a little and said, "for every big tent pole movie, take one where you act or do a play. Because one day, someone else makes the tent pole, if you know what I mean. You can act and you're cute. Make sure it stays in that order.' "Sorry, I can't. My parents are in for an academic conference and I'm meeting my mum and," I looked at my phone, "shit, I've got twenty minutes to get to the Sheraton. Shit shit shit." It was on 6th Avenue. We were on 11th, and I'd swear the avenues were longer over here. Sadie looked at me. "What's wrong? If you walk fast, you'll make it. It'll be close, but you'll be OK." "It's not that, I wanted to change before." I had planned to go back to the apartment to take off my makeup, maybe unglue my breasts. I was wearing skinny jeans and a hoodie, so at least that would cover my arse, but I'd have to bind. I hadn't bound in months, not since Laser Tag. I felt in my bag and breathed a sigh of relief. She laughed. "I'm 45 and it doesn't change. Don't worry. You look fine." I looked at myself in the window. I was wearing makeup. Nothing much, lip gloss, blush and a little eyeliner, but it was still makeup. And I didn't have wipes. Or time to stop. Becca had told me to never wash it off with soap, that it would dry my face out, but desperate times and all that. I just had to duck into the bathroom before I met her. "Thanks. I haven't seen her in almost a year. I'm just nervous. I'll see you tomorrow," I said as I ran off. I got to the hotel, grateful that I had three minutes to spare. Mum was always punctual, to make up for dad. My father was a professor at the University of East Anglia, a brilliant international development expert and author. And, if my mum didn't take charge of everything else, a naked and perpetually late one. As a result, she believed that anything over ten minutes late was a mortal sin. I ran into the bathroom, the women's room, and into a stall. I stripped off my hoodie with the speed of a formula 1 pit crew and bound myself. It's amazing what cortisol will do for you. Then, I rushed to the sink and began scrubbing my face. A woman looked over at me, "You know that will dry out your face..." I wondered if this is what they taught girls in Sex Ed. Those couple of classes where they were taken into a different room. I'd always assumed they were talking about periods. I smiled. "I know. I left my wipes in my bag and I, uh, and my mother are going to meet a...uh...makeup artist....to get a family portrait taken." Brilliant, Alex. She looked at me, looking me up and down. I didn't say it was a formal portrait. "We're changing there." She shrugged and walked out. I looked in the mirror and didn't see any traces of makeup left. I saw her standing outside. She looked the same only different. Like someone had taken an old picture from my Facebook and transposed it on to a film about New York. "Mum," I said, hoping I looked OK. "Alligator!" She came over and gave me a big hug. When I was little, I was nicknamed 'alligator' because of how much I loved the water. That and that dumb rhyme. On vacation, we'd play a game where I would 'sneak' up on my parents and go chomp and they'd yell 'alligator.' When I got sick, I think it became a talisman, something strong to ward off the illness. It felt good to be hugged. I missed her hugs. "Hi, mum," I said, nervously. "Sorry, I'm late. There was a problem with the equipment so it took a little longer than I thought..." She looked me up and down, with a glint in her eye. "Oh, don't worry. I'm perfectly fine outside. How are you doing?" I smiled. "I'm doing better, thanks. I think the new place is helping." Five days ago, I had moved into a studio apartment that I was subletting from a friend of one of the crew. It was small but the light was good. Besides, even though Tom and Chloe never said anything, I think they were glad to have their couch back. She took my hand, which surprised me. It felt nice though, comforting. We started walking east. "That's good. I think it's good for you." She smiled, "besides, you know what Nana said about guests and fish..." I smiled and she continued, "do you have your things back yet?" "Yes, I got them the day of the move. Tom's friend Phil went for me. I think Tom paid him ...I'd take you over but the place is still a mess." "That's fine. And Alligator, I know you're upset, but it's going to be OK." "I know, mum. I just hate the way it ended." I hadn't exactly told her the truth about everything. All I said was that there was something that happened on set, but I didn't say what. Or with whom. "I wish I could talk to her. Chloe even reached out to her, but she didn't respond." "That was nice of Chloe. They still aren't talking?" "No," I said. "I hate that I was the cause of their row.". She smiled. "You weren't. From what you said, it was a long time coming." I furtively scratched my side, where I was bound. "Are you OK?" "You know when you have an itch you can't scratch? It's one of those." We were walking past a Starbucks when my mother asked, "Do you mind stopping for a coffee? You don't have anywhere to be, do you?" I smiled. "I've blocked my whole day for you. Whatever you want to do." We went in and the cashier said, "What can I get you ladies?" I expected my mother to say something or at least give a look, but nothing. Perhaps she'd misheard. The American accent and all. We ordered our coffees and waited. The barista called, "One for Helen," and then, with a big smile to me, "one for her sister Alex." My mother just smiled and rolled her eyes. "I think he fancies you, Alex." "Erm," I said, staring at my flat white latte. "I think he was just teasing." She just smiled. We sat and talked for a bit. My father was in for a philosophy and international development symposium. "Mum, what exactly does he do at these conferences?" She laughed. "I've read the agenda, and I still don't know. I imagine a roomful of people discussing the meaning of Cameroon, all with mismatched socks. So, what were you doing again?" "Looping dialogue. Basically, if the sound is off from when they filmed it, we re-record. That's how you can hear people in outside shots sometimes." "It's going well? They like you?" "I think so. Sadie has been terrific, ever since the horse incident." She laughed. "That's right. The dreaded beast Clip Clop. Deceptive name, I must say." I felt my ears turn red. "Stop it, mum. He wasn't supposed to do that. How was I supposed to know?" She smiled. "I'm glad you and Sadie made up though. So, what's next?" "Monica is sending me out for more commercials." I was up for a spot as the harried young secretary, running around for everyone before I went to McDonalds' for lunch. I told Sadie who laughed and said, 'eat enough McDonalds and you won't have to worry about Razor staring at your ass anymore.' "Is that OK? I mean you just did a movie." I smiled. "It's fine, mum. Big stars do commercials now. It's not like when you were my age..." "Very funny, Alligator," she said, as she finished her coffee. "Can we walk on Fifth Avenue? I'd like to see the shops." We got up and she took my hand again, and off we went, no one even batting an eye. We were walking past Rockefeller Center, when my mother looked in the window of All Saints, a clothing store. She was looking at a dress, yellow with a delicate flower print, that fell to above the knee a few inches. "That's a very pretty dress, don't you think?" I smiled. It was cute. I wasn't sure why she was asking me though. "Sure, mum. Very pretty. Do you want to go in and try it on?" She laughed. "I'm a little too old for that. But I think you should." That sound you heard was my jaw hitting the floor. "I'm sorry, what?" I sputtered. "You'd look adorable in it," she smiled. "Come on." "M...m....mum?" I really needed to stick to someone else writing my lines. "S...s...sorry?" She kept smiling. "Allie, please. We don't have all day. There are other places I'd like to go. Unless you don't like the dress. And if that's the case, say so." With that, I started to cry. Enough that people were looking, not just tourists. She took me in her arms and rubbed my back. "Allie, what's wrong?" "I...I....I'm sorry..." "For what?" She kept rubbing my back. "For...for....for...." "For not telling me about Allie?" I lifted my head off her shoulder. "You...you...you knew?" She laughed. "There's a wonderful new invention. I don't know if it's made it over here yet but it's all the rage at home. They call it the internet." I wiped my eyes. "How long have you known?" She smiled. "Since you got the movie. When you told me about it, I checked IMDB. It said an 'Alyx Liddell' was playing someone called 'Kristina.' Then I did some more Googling and the commercials came up..." "Why didn't you say something?" I felt about three feet tall. "Alex, I knew that when, if you were ready, you would tell me..." "I..." and I started to cry again. She hugged me again. "Alex, what's wrong?" "I lied to you. And I've been...and now...and I'm afraid...." I blubbered. "About what, sweetheart?" "That you and dad...are going...and I'll be all alone...." She pushed me out a little, so I was facing her. I stared at the floor. She barked, "Alex, look at me. I cannot believe you would say that..." "Um...I just..." I just what I didn't know. And still don't. "Alex, you are my heart, my child. I would never ever do anything of the sort. Nor would your father and I can't..." And she started to cry. I imagined the passers by wondering what was going on. And the store manager wanting to move us, so that we didn't hurt business. It was my turn to rub her back. "I didn't mean it that way, mum..." I blubbered. We went over to a bench and sat down. After we both regained composure, my mother said, "Whether you're my son, my daughter or something else, you're mine. And you'll always be mine, no matter what. In a suit, a dress or a scuba mask and tutu," she smiled, "Maybe not that, please. But you're mine and we are yours. And that's that. Do you understand me?" I smiled weakly and nodded. "I love you, Alex. Unconditionally." "I love you too, mum. I am sorry though. For not telling you." She smiled. "I'm a little hurt that you didn't feel safe, but I'll get over it." She looked at my face. "Were you wearing makeup this morning?" I nodded. "You missed a spot when you took it off. Please tell me you used wipes. Soap will dry your face out and you won't be this young forever." Yup, must have been in that class. "Now, if you're willing, I'd like to meet Alexandra." "Alexandra?" I asked. She smiled. "You can use Alyx professionally, if you must. But it sounds like the sort of girl who's on Page 3 with her knockers out. And that is unacceptable," she laughed. "I promise mum. OK, Alexandra. Everyone else calls me Allie, to be honest. Does dad know?" "What is knowledge, Allie?" She joked. "He has an idea, but I don't know that he knows knows." I gulped. "I just couldn't deal if...." She stopped me before I could finish. "Allie, I told you. We love you absolutely. And, after everything...that happened...when you were younger, there is no way on Earth that we'd ever let you go simply because of how you dressed or because you chose to be yourself. Don't ever, ever think that." She smiled. "Do you still like football? Rowing?" I smiled and nodded. "He loves you for who you are, not what you wear or your pronouns. Well, scratch that, you're not using 'they' for yourself, are you?" I laughed. "They took him to the university disputes panel over that. Apparently, his defense of 'gender is a social construct, grammar is not,' wasn't well received..." She looked across the street at Sephora. "Do you have any makeup in your bag? If not, let's get you some..." I laughed. "I have some, mum. Let me find a bathroom." I stopped when I said that, thinking of the absurdity of it all. "Then we can go in." I found the bathroom and took off my binding, putting back on my bra. I brushed out my hair and put on some lip gloss and eyeliner. I smiled and went back out. 'Here goes nothing,' I thought. She had a huge smile, from ear to ear. "Much better, Allie." We went in the store and, when the saleswoman came over, my mother, with a huge grin, said, "That dress in the window. Do you have it in a...what's your size, Allie? I'm sorry, I don't know American sizes..." When I said four, my mother sighed "To be young again...." In the dressing room I tried it on, staring at myself in the mirror. I looked adorable, especially with my Doc Martens. I was going to take a picture and send it to Chloe, but decided that my mum should see first Then, I looked at the price tag. $200. My heart sank. The money I made was good, but it was inconsistent. That was Sadie's advice - 'spend like there's a tomorrow.' I came out and my shoulders were down. "What's wrong, sweetie? That dress looks perfect. You look beautiful." I mumbled. "But, it's $200...and I can't..." She laughed. "Who said you could? I'm buying it for you." I smiled. "Really? You don't have to?" Yes, she did. Now she did. "Alexandra, stop it. I want to. And don't act like you don't want it." I saw a black leather motorcycle jacket on a rack. I tried it on and looked in the mirror. I played with my hair and stared at my reflection, imaging me and Jacob. "That goes perfectly. Narcissus." She looked at the saleswoman. "I'm a sucker, aren't I? Can she wear it out?" Yes she could. We left the store and I took her arm in mine. "You sure you're OK with this, mum?" She laughed. "Like I could get it off of you now. Yes, Alexandra, I am sure. I want to spend the