For a while, even after I broke up with Kai, I thought I couldn’t be “fully” aroace if I still crushed on the idea of someone. I thought maybe I just had to try harder in real life. If I could conjure up an imaginary crush, I could train myself to do so in real life. I thought I had to push myself to feel these things, to flirt when flirted with, to go on dates and not have them feel like a chore. Not because I wanted to fall in love, but because it’s so difficult to swim against the current, and I thought I’d have an easier time not drowning if I just went with the flow.
“Thanks for talking to me about this,” Kai whispers. “I know it’s not easy.”
“Thanks for listening.” I pick myself off the floor and walk toward the door. “I’ll listen to you, too… if you ever want to tell me anything.”
His lips pinch, and his frame stiffens against the wall. “I know.”
I manage to get a few hours of sleep before I’m picked up to go to the set at sixAM. Kai has asynchronous online classes, so we decide to meet up after I’m done filming.
I’m so nervous I could shit myself.
I take deep breaths, but my hands shake around the script as I walk onto the set. It feels like stepping into an ant colony. The whole place hums with activity. Crew members scuttle about—directors and ADs orchestrating, technicianstinkering with lights and sound, underpaid PAs dashing around with coffee orders.
“Sassy.” Stella,Friday’s acting coach, waves a hand at my face, snapping me back to the present. “Let’s move through the space. Familiarize yourself with the set.”
“Ah, yeah…” I twist a strand of hair around my finger to ease my nerves.
The studio has been transformed into an amalgamation of Gothic architecture. Gloomy mansions loom in the background, adorned with creepy, twisted ornaments. A dimly lit alleyway leads to a haunted carnival with unsettling animatronics. Their glassy eyes seem to follow me as Stella directs me toward a fake forest with gnarled trees, their branches reaching out like bony fingers.
“This place looks so cool,” I mumble. My first scene takes place here. My character, the villain’s assistant, runs into one of the main characters, the love interest played by Asher Grish.
Stella and I settle down on the fake grass to rehearse. I didn’t hire her, but I guess the studio thought I might need an acting coach. I don’t know how to tell her that I need a minute to be by myself while she does something else. There’s a lot of noise around me that I need to tune out to focus.
“You shouldn’t have stolen those ancient books from the crypt, um—” My voice shakes, and I clutch my script as if my life depends on it. I feel stupid. I took theater classes in middle school and high school, and I’ve shot some music videos, but I can’t remember my own name right now.
My heart beats so loud that it drowns my thoughts. I gotthis role through connections, not talent. I’m probably going to disappoint everyone.
“Let’s go through the script once, but let’s replace every word withspaghetti,” Stella says. “I want to know what emotion you’re conveying, even if I can’t hear the words. Like for instance, this line right here:Do we know each other?Instead let’s saySpaghetti?” She gestures animatedly. “Spaghetti, spaghetti.”
“Sure…” I don’t think this will help, but I don’t want to be rude.
Footsteps crunch on the grass, distracting Stella. She lifts her head to look at someone behind us. I spin around, my stomach flipping when I come face-to-face with Asher Grish.
Oh, shit.For a moment I don’t know what to do with my hands. I settle for waving at him like an idiot. Asher leans against one of the fake trees, studying me with a grin. He’s even taller in person, over six feet, perhaps a little shorter than Kai. His dark blond hair catches the studio lights in a dazzling display, his gray eyes piercing me.
“I hope I’m not intruding.” He sweeps his gaze between us. He’s already in character, an apocalypse survivor dressed in a threadbare jacket stained with faux blood and dirt and paired with ripped jeans. “But since she and I have some scenes, I was hoping we could rehearse together.”
She and I.He probably doesn’t know my name, which is fine. Cool even.
The character he plays has an American accent, but real Asher speaks with a mix of them—not quite American, notquite British. I barely had time to look him up online before the shoot, but if I’m not wrong, his mom is from Texas, and his dad is from here. But Asher was raised in different parts of the world due to his parents’ schedules, especially since his mom is an industry pro.
“Is that okay?” He extends a nonchalant hand toward me. “May I borrow you?”
His touch is unexpectedly gentle as he helps me up. I trail behind him, navigating the labyrinth of corridors until we stumble upon a rehearsal room. It’s a lot quieter than outside, and I relish the silence. Inside there’s a low coffee table and yoga mats and cushions scattered over the floor. A mini fridge at the back contains different brands of bottled water.
“I’m Asher Grish.” He unrolls one of the mats with a dramatic flick of his wrist and takes a seat. “Your new partner.” He grins when I give him a curious look. “Scene partner.”
“I’m Sasha.” I give him a small smile.
“I thought you went by Sassy.” His gaze locks on mine. Oh, so he does know me.
“Call me Sasha. Sassy is my stage name.”
“Aren’t you both, though? Sasha and Sassy.” The way he says my stage name makes me bristle, as if he knows there’s something behind the person I pretend to be. Maybe he’s looked me up, too.
“Not really.” I shrug and find a seat, flattening my back against the wall.
Asher shrugs off his jacket and pulls his sweater over his head, accidentally revealing an inch of skin and toned abs.Kai’s words from last night rush back to me. I guess Asher is what people would considerhot. I just don’t see how an inch of skin is supposed to make anyone swoon.
