Remembering David #inlovingmemory #intheshapeofyou

Jewel - The Shape Of You (with lyrics)

I recall, last time you were here Your laughter a melody that lingers still

Nearly a month ago, on May 5th, 2023, I lost one of my best friends, David, surprisingly, unexpectedly, gone.  The last several weeks have been a blur of work and helping his mother with the life shift of which she now finds herself.  The mourning from his absence has not fully set itself upon me, mostly during this time, I have felt a sense of numb shock of disbelief.  I keep finding myself expecting to hear from him over social media, a private message about some creative project he just dreamed up and of which he wishes me to collaborate, a remark or comment on something I have newly posted, a word of encouragement, an inside joke.

Only to then be hit with the truth of it not ever being a reality again.  No longer will I see his broad smile as he approaches, his fancy hat atop his head adorned with matching coat, coming to hang out or help with a project, waving me in excitedly at his studio for a photography session, or his boisterous giggle cheering others along at the local public access TV studio he loved so much.  

David's heart was large enough to include all he met as chosen family in an instant of knowing, a patient sense of non-judgment for all he met, seeing them as they are and not what he wanted from them.  His enjoyment was simple, in being with those he loved, exploring their creativity alongside his, a forever champion for those he held dear.  His heart was bruised by betrayal yet it remained soft enough to continue to love, in times of good and times of hardship, he was a loyal soul always ready for whatever was needed.

I have had the privilege and honor of meeting up with many of those he held especially dear, sifting through his wide variety of creative projects he birthed.  David's influence upon the world, the mark he left behind, was diverse upon the hearts of many.  He will not be forgotten, his presence lingers still within those who loved and love him still.  

I have yet to truly cry, but I feel a sense of peace, as if my friend's strong presence and reassurance is still abiding within, encouraging me to persevere, excited for the projects swirling in my mind, an ever present and enthusiastic cheerleader upon my soul.  

In high school, I attended a YMCA summer camp called "Ravencliff" in the hills of Humboldt County, where I heard the story of Yellow.  Yellow was a princess surrounded and protected by only that of Yellow, shielded by her parents warning her about the foreboding outside world.  But, as is necessary, she eventually finds her way into the great beyond, discovering to her horror, at first, that every time she meets, then departs from someone, she is different from whom she was.  But, she finally discovers these differences have only made her better, for she carries the lessons learned and memories shared from each person experienced and after all is said and done, she is now "Rainbow", no longer merely Yellow.

David brightened my life with hope and real love, turning me into "Rainbow Lia".  The mark he left upon me will burn forever bright with the intention to do likewise for those I know and have yet to meet. 

This hole in my heart 

and so I'll carry it wherever I go 

Like a treasure that travels with me down every road

There's this longing lonesome ending

kind of bitter, kind of sweet 

There's a hole in my heart 

There's a hole in my heart 

There's a hole in my heart in the shape of you

An excerpt from Broken by Jenny Lawson

 

No FU!

           

September sad and softly
Leaves are starting to fall
I recall, last time you were here
Your laughter a melody that lingers still

There's a hole in my heart and I'll carry it wherever I go
Like a treasure that travels with me down every road
There's this longing lonesome ending kind of bitter, kind of sweet
There's a hole in my heart in the shape of you

It has become an all too frequent reality that whenever someone or the collective have a particularly hard year, as we all have been through many in the last several years, it is the thing to proclaim "FU" to the year itself.  And, as it were, this year I could proclaim thus.  

On April 23 of this year, I lost one of best friends, Catherine Hansen, due to cancer.  Also, this year I lost Charles Robinson, who played Mac Robinson on my all time favorite TV show, Night Court, on July 12th.  Then, only a few weeks later, another beloved from the aforementioned TV show, Markie Post, last her battle with cancer on August 7th, 2021.  

It was August 8th, 2021, the day that it was reported of Markie's death, that I found on my mind quickly passing to my lips, "Well FU 2021".  But I quickly stopped myself, before falling into that trap of a mindset, as I have been able to do in years recently past.

Markie, Catherine, and Charles were deeply loved by beloved family, close friends, and doting fans alike.  They were able in their lives to thrive creatively and bring much light and love to the world.  They will surely be missed and the absence is already felt.  

In the wake of this loss, do I have the right to bemoan the year as the worst yet?  Some might say I could.  However, I choose not to, but instead to learn and evolve through the pain, heart-ache, and struggle.  I can remember fondly the beautiful memories created alongside Catherine and the lessons of strength and endurance she passed onto myself and to so many.  By looking at Markie and Charles, as well as Harry Anderson's demise in 2018, I can reflect on, although I did not know that personally, their presence in my life through the TV screen was necessary for me in my early days of life, during which the traumatic experience was newly beginning and fresh.  With that, I can understand that in their deaths coinciding with my intense dive into healing from PTSD is a rebirth for their souls as it is for mine.  Their leaving this plane of existence unto whatever comes next relates to my healing and evolving forward past the pain of my childhood.  Thus, each of these beloved souls are now healers and teachers in their leaving much as they were when they stood with me in the flesh of this life.

The life we lead is built on the joys and the heart-ache, the highs and the lows.  It is not normal or healthy to want to be, always strive to be comfortable, for you never shall and so desiring that will only lead to more discomfort.  I often sarcastically quip that the nickname for my fellow citizens should be "WAB" short for "Whiny American Babies".  Yes, the whiny baby mentality may not be merely only an American thing, but despite my learned background and travels about the world I still only really know myself and my culture as a frame of reference.  

A podcaster I listen to frequently, Stephanie Powers, of the Lightworkers Lounge often says that 'Rejection is just projection in another direction'.  Taken this further, we can begin to view our struggles not as reason to whine, bemoan, nor should we stay locked in an eternal place of suffering for thus we shall never truly escape, but we can begin to realize that in the struggles and heart-ache growth will arrive, true evolution of the soul will continue forward, out of the ashes arrives beauty.

Even though my heart aches
There's a smile on my face
Just like a window to heaven
There's a light shining through

Hear more about these self discoveries of mine in my podcast, the FanGirl Hour, https://anchor.fm/fangirling/episodes/The-bearing-of-my-soul-e15l8nh

                                          

 

Romana Honors Her Rani

The Shape Of You

There's a hole in my heart and I'll carry it wherever I go

Like a treasure that travels with me down every road

Having studied theatre in college due to my anxiety I never quite attained that dream, until I was cast in my first play in 2012, ten years after undergraduate graduation; "Working: The Musical".  It was through that amazing experience that I finally found my home, my calling assured, and, most importantly, in this entry, where I met my good friend, Catherine.  I cannot recall what our first conversation was, only that there was a time when she wasn't in my life, then there was a time when she was.  

When she met me, I was only a year into an abusive marriage and through the next few unfolding years, her steady presence, non-judgmental love, and delicious humor would brighten my life and give me the strength to 'kick the bastard to the curb'.  She was one of the first people I turned to and told that I had removed him from my life as well I was one of the first that she confided in about her first diagnosis with the big C.  

Like me, she was long-suffering in her approach to others, offering the benefit of the doubt according the nature of humanity.  She had her fair share of discomforts with certain types and shared them with me, asking for my thoughts on such with no sense of judgment and truly honoring my opinions.  She shared with me tales of her love affairs and woes, and I, in turn. 

In the times when I did not believe in my ability or my self worth, which was, in fact, the bulk of the entirety of our friendship, she never wavered in her belief in me, to achieve, heal, and thrive.  That belief and undying love moved me from strength upon strength and remains undying in this moment, although the situation of our connection has changed.  In the truest sense of love, I do not know where I would be if it weren't for Catherine.

She lost her battle with stage 4 cancer on April 23, 2021.  We all celebrated 60 years of her, relishing in her glory before us, on her birthday of February 24.  

What can I say, Catherine's loyalty and dedication was something I had come to rely on and only in the void of its absence due I realize the true import of it.  Throughout this last month, I have been pondering my time connected to Catherine, coming up with off-color jokes at her expense, finding myself wanting to apologize, then realizing, almost hearing, her deep, hearty laughter.  Because that was her, full of laughter, mirth, the warmth of love, but also tenderness, commitment, loyalty, and dedication never failing.

Never once did she complain during her years of suffering her illness, perhaps she did privately or with her family, but seemd to take all of life in stride with the gentle graceful acceptance of her good humor and wit.

In 2016, when I started into the world of film producing, she joined forces alongside me as the time lady, The Rani, a villian against my Romana and The Doctor, played by Nick Walker.  Once again, the dedication and thrill of performing was true to Catherine at every turn, in every film shoot or promotional photo call, with true humility and an authentic honesty.  She would also portray the ill-fated, Lady MacDuff, and would drive through Burger King after filming with her neck stab wound make-up in place, insisting to the employees that indeed she was "really in need of protein, look!"

Knowing Catherine off screen, the gentle-hearted, quick witted, honest, soulful woman was direct contrast to the evil, conniving Time Lady, but she did so divinely, effortlessly slipping into character when needed, then back to her joyous self.  On set, we laughed a lot, I gave her the freedom to adapt the script to help fulfill her character to the fullest.  She had more than her fair share of one-liners that are still deliciously quoted until this day, the best being, "We ain't got no God Damn live stock, Russ", from which was written, "We don't have any livestock, Russ!"  She put her original twist upon it giving it more life.  

A joke around set was that the spin-off sitcom series was that my character, Romana, and Susan (played by Q Gabumpa) would be the friends living in a New York apartment and The Rani would be the nosy next door neighbor that we loved to hate but never hated to love.  The three male time lords, The Doctor, The Master (played by Roy Rains), and The Lackey (of our creation, played by Russell Mitchell) would be the guys we put up with for good sport. 

I do not know the origin of the choosing of the title, The Rani, perhaps the original played Rani (Kate O'Mara) and the writer that created her story know such, but I do know the meaning of the Rani, "Queen".  To describe The Rani, driven and determined to have power and glory, defines that of a type of royalty, however, I believe Catherine held similar traits, although more altruistic.  She was driven and determined, but in the sense of fierce loyalty and dedication to those she loved and that which she loved most to do.  Once more, she was tender, creative, giving of herself, easy to be with, a good listener and advice giver, the true embodiment of positive royalty.  Like Lady Macduff who was more deserving of queendom than Lady Macbeth, Catherine was and is deserving of loving praises. 

Thus, forever after, Catherine will remain the Queen of Cafe-Girl Productions.

Reel of Catherine

Behind your eyes Are endless blue skies You travel places i want to come, too Each breath that you breathe Is a brush stroke that leads me to you So sleep Fall into nights indigo hue Believe me, its true There's nothing that I would not do For my dream is sweet dreams for you It seems far away But there once was a day It was grey in a world without you To this heart like a dove from above The miracle of your love found me

Sweet Dreams

 

My Favorite TV Show Ever!

I just wish there was some book, something to explain and help navigate. I just wish it didn't hurt so bad. Endings.

I look at the faces in the photo above and my heart swells with joy.  I grew up in a smaller Northern Californian city, in the outskirts of the back of beyond on five acres in a rural neighborhood. I spent my childhood rambling through the hills, the woods, the streams, freely.  I never claimed to be a tomboy, that's absurd, but I do define myself proudly and always as a country girl.

My imagination was my closet friend and my best escape.  It was then and is still today.

As I ventured into pre-teen and adolescence, my need to disappear from reality as the hormones began to rage within me grew to an increasing wave inside.  After school, I would come home, grab my oreos, and head to the basement to distract myself with the likes of TV shows such as Animaniacs, Abbot & Costello (when I said I studied comedy from an early age, I meant it) and somewhere along the way I discovered Night Court.  And, my world went from the dull sepia to the vibrancy of color.  

One can talk about the greatness of the show, although at the time under appreciated, the talent both onscreen and off, the writing, but for me it went to a deeper level. I was hooked, although most of the jokes went above my head, it mattered not to me.  Something in the story-line, the characters' connection, was very vivid and real to me.  As much as I have affection and admiration for the five other actors, the main focus of the connection was the lead, Harry Anderson.  His presence onscreen was delightfully humorous (even though I did not get all the jokes at that young age), but he also had this sweet sensitivity and warmth within his comedy that resonated with me.  (Also, his last name was the same as my family surname,  keep that relevancy in your mind.)

I was a lonely, sad child despite my many friends and rambling imagination.  My small school did not have a drama department or much to offer in the arena of the arts.  I had to go three cities over to take drama classes and voice lessons.  Worth it it was, but it did leave a big chasm in my social connections close at home.  My friends would marvel and laugh at me over my love of this show, but I cared not.  A friend and I came up with a special swim for this show.  That's right.  It was a version of the breast stroke whereas we pop our heads above water and say "Night", then under the water, up again with "Court" and onwards to the end and back.  I told you I was a comedy geek.  

Also, this was before the onset the Internet, I had to really hunt for information on Night Court.  These actors would not be found in the pages of Teenbeat or the like.  Imagine, Richard Moll, aka Bull Shannon, doing a sexy spread with screaming girls' drooling...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0y-7lcuFHDo

I think not.

Ultimately, I was a lonely, sad child, despite my many friends and siblings.  I didn't feel there was anyone that I could connect to, that could truly understand my creative and weird sense of humor.  And, that's a very lonely place to be.  With Night Court, I found six individuals who demonstrated characters who were unabashedly real in their wacky and weird lives.  I wanted Christine's hair-style.  Wait, let me clarify, you remember the shoulder length one with the bangs, yeah, that one.  That was so stylish and cute.  And, she was strong, sassy, smart, and beautiful.  She was exactly who I wanted to be then and when I grew up.  I watched in awe of the talents of John Larroquette and Harry Anderson.  I wanted to do what they were doing.  Well, I didn't want to lust over bimbo girls or make wacky practical jokes (well maybe the latter) but what I wanted was to act.  They inspired me to pursue my dream of acting.  And, during the close-up end scenes of Night Court, when Harry made a touching monologue of import, I listened and looked deeply at his caring, sympathetic eyes and longed for him to look at me with those eyes and to listen to me.  I was looking for a sympathetic, warm father figure.  I just wanted someone to listen.

As the years went by, I ventured into adulthood and the busyness of life, never truly forgetting Night Court.  In 2006, I was diagnosed with Bipolar 2 which set me on a journey to soul-searching recovery and healing.  I realize now that I have sought for years to fill the hole of caring "daddy" in various ways from my favorite high school teacher to a brief stint in a conservative Christian worldview.  Yes, I now see that whole experience in the mad mad church years was to fill that vacancy.  But, in truth, there was only one that filled that spot in my heart, that of Harry Anderson.  

The Shape Of You

As I got older, I always hoped to tell him just what he had meant to me.  How he helped, without knowing, a scared little girl feel safe and loved, if only for a half an hour each week.  

Then this week, I received a crushing blow.  He was gone.

Perhaps there is some lesson to be learned in his loss before the others.  Daddy's passed on, Lia, time to grow up.  Never forget the joy he brought, the magic he infused into your heart, carry it with you, but move forward.  So, this week as I read the twitter posts and such from his cast-members, those oh so familiar faces, as I scan photo after photo, religiously watch video after video on YouTube of Night Court and his other works all with a desire to connect with others feeling this lack, to find some solace as we all collectively unite in our grief and healing.  

Our Parting Words To Harry Anderson

These last three days I've taken long walks and spent some time in deep pondering.  I've let tears flow from a broken heart.  I've indulged in oreos as I fondly remembered my child-like self.  And, I've felt a message from Harry as I watched the videos left behind:

"Take Life Less Seriously."

I will.  We all will. Thank you, Harry, for sharing your magic, your light, and your love with us.  You were truly one of a kind.  

And, from my heart, thank you to Papa Harry and the entire cast of Night Court for filling a scared, little girl's heart with hope of a better life.  I am alive today, pursuing my art and acting career because of each of you.

The Story Of My Life

I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you

Anywhere, I would've followed you

Say something, I'm giving up on you

And I will swallow my pride

You're the one that I love

And I'm saying goodbye

(excerpt from "Say Something(I'm giving up on you)" by A Great Big World)

One Final Time

The Shape Of You

Camp ended and the early days of September descended upon the earth, with it came the beginning of another school year. Also, another new beginning for Ruby, a first of so many. With it, came the entrance of Matt, her first kiss, first date, first boyfriend. Hoping to drown out any thought of Les and even that of his relationship with Jess proved unsuccessful to Ruby. He remained an ever constant thought, a memory inspiring love, in her life. Wherever she went, albeit apart from him and with no connection to Crowshaven, she felt him with her, felt a longing for him that could not be described or equaled with anyone else on this earth that she knew.

Matt's allure to her was his ability to be mysterious and set apart from the rest of the world. And, he smoked cigarettes and was the grand old age of 18 years to her 16. This age difference seemed vast and so grown up to her, she who felt a constant need to escape from her life and her surroundings. Also, these facts of Matt's life choices were a obvious deterrent to her father's liking him, thus made him more desirable.

But, three months into their relationship, Matt ran off with her high school chum, Holly, who claimed it just “happened” and Ruby found herself once again, alone, confiding in a carton of Ben & Jerry's Phish food, tearfully watching chick flicks and Wayne's World on repeat with Tera. Secretly, the urge to harm herself, to end it all, began re-emerging with herself. The only solace became her journal and her song writing which began to put forth songs of emotional despondency and longing.

“Where have you gone? My heart is broken, an unending loneliness resides inside,” she wrote and crooned accordingly.

So, many times her hand reached for her portable phone, willing herself to dial the numbers of Les, and then placing the receiver back on its holder. He'd call if he really wanted to, besides he's probably madly in love with Jess and half way to the altar by now.

The voices in her head of depression grew to a fevered pitch and she ran off into the woods with a bottle of Tylenol and water, ready to leave this mortal coil. And, for some odd reason, that was the time that Les decided to call, for the reason of inviting her to his birthday shindig that following weekend. For some reason, she found herself moodily entering her bedroom, despondent that she couldn't even attempt suicide, just as the phone was ringing.

“Hello?” she croaked into the phone, placing her tear stained face against the cool receiver.

“Hi,” the male voice on the other end of the phone began. “Are you okay?”

“Um,” was all she could say and then, “Who is this?”

“Its Trip, I mean, Les, oh you know.”

“Oh, hi,” she gulped. “How are you?”

“I'm doing well, you?” he asked and she breathed a very long, heavy sigh. She found herself able to open up to him then, the only person who had ever really listened and helped her begin again.

“I don't want to live anymore,” was all she could say.

“Did you do anything?”

“I tried to, I want to,” she admitted. He sighed heavily and then said,

“You need to tell your parents and your parents, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, all right,” she agreed.

“And then, call me, okay?” He basically demanded. “And you have to live, I'm having a birthday party this weekend and I want to see you there, no excuses.”

“All right,” she said and despite of the situation she laughed a little.

Then, she found herself in her doctor's office, her parents on either side of her, and her very unapproachable psychiatrist telling her that he was going to “raise her anti-depressants” once more to curb off the suicidal ideation. But, within her heart, she already felt a sense of healing, Les was back somewhat in her life as a comrade in arms, a faithful companion in her fight to live, and that in itself gave her a will to continue, to persevere, that in itself felt right. 

I will follow you into the dark

https://www.patreon.com/user?u=859546&ty=h

Afternoon Walks In College

In college, I lived as close to campus as I could without living in the dorms.  Just minutes away, I'd always walk to and from class, coming home sometimes between classes for lunch or to change my shirt, grab a book or notebook I needed for class.

In the evening, walking back from the day's hustle of university life, I'd pass by this old yellow house.  At the time, an older man and his wife lived there.  They usually had a few cats and a dog about in the yard while he worked in the shed out in the backyard.  I always smiled at him as I passed.  A few times we'd say hello and once awhile we'd talk about how our day had been and what we had done.

I cannot remember what his name was or anything else like that but I just remember how nice he was and how much I valued that time passing by seeing him at work in his yard, at different times of the year whether it be the coolness of early winter evenings or the early warmth of spring.

A few years back when I was freshly returned to Ashland, I happened to pass by again and saw him once more in his yard, this time much older and moving slower, bent over that much more.  I stopped again and told him how I remembered him from my college days, how I always loved this house, and held a fondness for the days I would pass by after school in the evenings.

He smiled and invited me in to show me around his old house, that had been in the family for years.  He showed me the original oven and the rooms.  We sat and talked before I had to continue my journey home.  It was a moment of peace during a time of my life that was in beginning the road to emotional upheaval, when I was trying to cling to any sense of normalcy I could.

About a week ago, I happened to walk by and noticed the "For Sale" sign on the door.  My heart broke a little, knowing I would never see him again out in his yard working away, never stop to smile, and chat about the day.

Thus ends a chapter of my life.  You never know who or what will make a difference in your life, shape your heart.

The Shape of You

In This Town: Chapter Twelve: Everything that begins must end

Part Two

Chapter Twelve: Everything that begins must end

Two months had passed since our reconciliation on the sidewalk outside my apartment building and nothing much had changed. Business as usual for this small-town call girl and the likes of those near and dear to her. My relationship with Joe was unchanged, there was an inbuilt understanding of trust connected with our discreet awareness and need. It was as if it was true, our souls had forever been entwined.

Yes, all was going along swimmingly, much as it had before, save for the fact that now I had Riley in tow and Max had Janet. To be quite sure, Max's relationship with Janet was a thousand times more “normal” and, well, healthier than that of mine with Riley. I couldn't exactly be one hundred percent honest with my boyfriend about my true business interactions and out of town trips. At one point after I returned from a visit with Ed in Seattle, Riley asked to see some of the photo work I'd done on my trip, I lied and said the proofs weren't available yet. My time with him was a knuckle-biting affair, wondering how long I could keep up the appearances of normalcy while pursuing my nightly ventures.

My out of town business trips had enlarged. Through Ed, I had become connected to more interested parties, those with deeper pockets and a wider cash-flow whose desires were more varied than even that of Mitch Wheeler, who by the way had just announced his candidacy for the town mayor. Our escapades at his riverfront house were less frequent then.

I had an invite for dinner at Jacob and Becky's house, to celebrate the birth of their second child. I took along Riley, not Joe, as date, thinking that in whatever means possible I could reflect the status quo of society as well as please the boyfriend was definitely beneficial.

The dinner was fairly uneventful, in a word, it was endless and boring. Even Riley agreed as we rode home together, in I might add my new turquoise Pruis; (“Modeling pays off,” I had lied to Riley.) The new baby and the “mini-me” version of Becky were cute to be fair but also were vivid reminders of my decision to not have children.

However, what came from that dinner was even more eventful. Joe had left a message to call when I returned home. When I did, he informed me of a new client with instructions of when and where to meet. “Tomorrow night, 7 pm, at the Marriot, room 216,” I wrote down the instructions as he gave them to me.

I arrived a half an hour early to the destination, a custom I had recently developed and felt added to my degree of professionalism. I walked into the Marriot, nodded briskly to Max in greeting but not showing too much recognition, and breezed into the elevator and ascended to the second floor.

Walking down the long hallway to room 216, my heart rate quickened along with my breathing in anticipation of that first entrance, as an actor awaiting their cue to enter the stage. I turned the doorknob and slipped into the room.

My client for the night stood at the bar of the room, his back to me, making drinks for us. A voice that seemed somewhat familiar instructed me that the money was on the side table by the door. I took it and slipped it into my purse. I was once again wearing my long tan coat, underneath black thigh-highs clipped to garter and over it a black lacy teddy. Black stilettos donned my feet. My hair was a perfect light curl and hung softly down my back and away from my face. My make-up was perfectly applied but not over-done.

The client turned to face me, with the drinks in hand, and stopped in cold shock. My mouth fell agape. For a few moments in what seemed like an eternity, we stared at one another. Finally, I found my voice:

“Jacob?”

“Anna?” He came back to me.

“Yeah,” I said at last. “How are you?” Which seemed quite absurd to say under the circumstances, as if we were reuniting at a high school reunion and not under the current situation.  Jacob moved towards the living room area of the room and sat in an armchair. I followed and sat across him in a matching chair. He set one drink on the table and I picked it up, sipping slowly.

“So, this is life modeling?” He asked, cocking his head to one side.

“No, that's a cover,” I explained. He looked at me, with that sarcastic grin I had seen so much in school, the one that said, 'I'm about to tease you and you are going to like it' and said,

“Nice one, really.”

I took a larger sip of my drink, a gin and tonic, and then fired back,

“Why are you here?”

He thought for a moment and then said, “For the same reason you are.”

“Okay, why do you think I'm here?” I shot back.

“Exploration,” he admitted. I was taken aback by this.

“What about Becky?” I asked.

“She isn't...really up for...everything,” he stammered out. “And besides, she's all caught up with the kids and stuff and the whole image thing, you know.”

“So, you want to sow your wild oats, experience the bad side of things?” I asked looking for confirmation.

“Yeah, something like that,” he nodded. I looked him over and then rose slowly. I stood there for a moment and then put my drink down.

“Well,” I said, at last. “I should get going.”

“What, why?” he asked, looking at me with a piercing gaze.

“Well, you don't think we should, I mean,” I broke off.

“Why not? I paid for you,” he pointed out. He had a good point there so I brought out the money from my purse and moved to return it.

“No,” he shook his head. “That won't suffice.”

Reluctantly, I put the money back in my purse and stood back from him.

“So, what do you want?” Secretly hoping he wasn't like his father and that I could just get this over with, go home, take a hot bath, laugh it off with Max.

He looked me over and said, “Dance for me.”

I put my purse down on my chair and because tonight I needed it more than ever before, I gulped down my drink. Slowly I began swaying and moving around the room in a seductive fashion. I slowly brought the coat down around me until I let it fall to the ground. I heard him gasp in astonished satisfaction at the sight of my undergarments. I moved over to him and proceeded to give him a lap dance, feeling the bulge in his pants rising. I closed my eyes as I let my bottom rub against it, trying to visualize myself far away, anywhere but here. When I did, I saw the face of Riley float up at me. My eyes snapped open abruptly.

I turned and began unbuttoning Jacob's shirt and kissing his bare chest, moving my hands down to his pants. I was very careful about not giving him an open mouth kiss, too intimate for this situation. With his penis out, I slipped a condom on, then slipped myself. He put his hands on my shoulders and pulled himself inside of me. My eyes focused passed him onto the wall, I sucked in air and tried not to think.

What seemed like forever finally came to an end. I crawled off of him and returned to my coat and purse.

He smiled up at me and said, “I will call for you again.”

I cringed inside but dutifully turned and nodded, smiling in mock agreement.

I headed out the door, down the elevator, and through the lobby without acknowledging Max at all. Upon coming home, I headed into my bathroom and collapsed against the toilet and for the first time after a client, vomited. Not from the alcohol but from the shame of it.

The next morning I confessed it all to Max and was barely able to finish my breakfast without feeling sick. I had modeling that day so I managed to pull myself together for work and an after class delight for Ken.

Riley met me, as per our custom, in the cafeteria of the college. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joe sitting at a table and when Riley leaned to kiss me on the mouth, I moved my face so it fell against my cheek. I had not told Joe about Riley as of yet. How would I explain that?

Riley looked at me, a little hurt and asked, “Something wrong?”

“No, uh, I forgot to brush my teeth, breath smells rancid, I'm sure,” I managed to say.

“Oh, okay,” he accepted that in true Riley fashion. “Hungry? You want something to eat?”

That was also true Riley fashion, he always bought me food or anything really, treated me with such care and adoration I really felt like royalty and to be honest sometimes like glass, with any movement I might break. Or was that just me and my double life I needed to keep hidden?

As we walked to class, we held hands and laughed together, just like any normal couple in our age group would do. Nodding to Ken in silent confirmation of our after class meeting, I quickly began undressing and moved into the necessary poses for the class.

After class, I was on my knees behind Ken Payne's desk with his penis deep in my mouth while he groaned quietly above me. There was a knock on the door and then without waiting for an answer, it opened. Behind and above me, I heard a gasp of horror and shock. I froze.

“Anna?” came Riley's horrified voice above me. “Mr...Payne?”

I pulled myself out and tried to stand up. Mr. Payne grabbed my hand to stop me. I looked at him with horror and disgust.

“Riley, I..,” I began, then looked from him to Ken for some sort of answer or clarity. “I can explain, I will explain.”

Riley's eyes flashed at mine with anger.

“No need, Anna,” he growled. “No need, you whore.”

My insides cringed and shriveled tightly inside of me. I tried to move towards him but Ken restrained me, as if to remind me his time was not up yet. Riley turned and slammed the door behind him as he left. I heard his footsteps pounding down the hallway away from me.

After eventually leaving Ken's office, I grabbed my phone and anxiously called Riley's phone, to no answer. I drove home and entered the apartment frantically, hoping to catch Max before he went off to work. I found him and Janet sitting in each other's arms, happily on the sofa. She glanced up at me with disgust and marched off into his bedroom. Max got up and came towards me.

“Anna,” he said excitedly before I could speak. “I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah?” I managed.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just stuff with Riley,” I managed. “So, what's up?”

He gestured for me to sit on the sofa so I did.

“Janet and I were talking, we think we'd like to take this relationship to the next level,” he began. I looked him over, waiting. “I've asked her to move in with me.”

I nodded, taking this in. This wasn't a surprise to me at all. Janet knew about my profession and did not like it nor me. She was not at all quiet about this dislike either. For his part though, I was happy for Max and wanted to see him that way. He was after all my best friend. He just wanted us to get along.

“That's fine,” I began. “When do I need to move out?”

“Uh, the end of the month, okay? Unless you need more time?”

“That should be fine,” I confirmed. I looked down as my phone vibrated. Riley! “I have to take this,” I told Max, moving into my bedroom.

“Hello?” I said expectantly.

“Meet me at the waterfront park...now,” was all I got before I heard the click.

As I drove into the parking lot of the park, heavy storm clouds were deepening in the sky. The wind was kicking up and blowing litter about as I walked down the sidewalk into the park, looking for Riley. I saw him standing at fence overlooking the river below.  Behind him was a park bench. I walked up to him and touched his shoulder, he shook it off.

“Riley,” I began.

“Why, Anna, why?” he barked at me. “Why him? Its not like you need a grade...is that how you got the job?”

“No,” I began and the tears welled in my eyes. “That's not it.”

Without hesitation, I began to tell the truth.

“I do that for money,” I stated. “Not just with him, but with lots of men. All my out of town trips and...”

Riley glared at me and said in utter shock, angry, and disgust, “In this town?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly looking down. I heard him sigh, turn back to the water, and sigh again.

“Say something!” I begged him.

“I can't,” he began. I waited. “I can't do this, I can't be with you.”

“Please, Riley,” was all I could say. He turned and looked at me, again glaring.  I looked up at him, my eyes imploring.  He flinched and I saw his lower lip tremble.  Then without saying a word, he turned and stormed off just as the first drops of rain began to fall. 

I walked over to the bench and sat. The rain poured harder and harder but I did not mind it, I needed to feel the cold icy sting of the wetness. My tears mingling with the raindrops.

Alone, I sobbed, wondering what to do now, I looked up at the sky, at the falling rain, and screamed,

“Why?”

The Shape of You