Was It Ever Acting?

01 - Ashley

I woke up, my heartbeat accelerating quickly, bittersweet memories flooding my mind, that infamous lump in my throat, tears almost streaming down my cheeks while my eyes try desperately to hold them back. I close my eyes and a droplet rolls down my cheek, making my skin feel damp and cold. I closed my eyes for one second and saw those familiar blue eyes, the eyes that hadn't looked into mine in over eight years and while visualising that picture I let the floodgates open and tears gushed out. It had been months since I had cried my eyes out since I had let myself feel.

I reflected on the dream- no, nightmare trying to remember the events. The events followed in the nightmare just like they had in reality: that same red sweatshirt that we had gotten as a souvenir on our school trip to New York with a picture of the Statue of Liberty plastered on its back, those worn-out black Vans and that moving truck that had Portland Movers Company in navy blue painted across its rear doors. Everything. Down to the very last detail like how the faint blue in the sky made it look like it was going to rain, the atmosphere so sombre almost as if the grey clouds were trying to hold back the rain just like I was trying to hold back my tears, the orange leaves swaying in the harsh winds and falling to the ground almost in slow motion as my heart struggled to cherish the moment. What followed were the words that had been playing in my mind ever since that late-autumn day when I was 16, "I'll always be there for you, I'll think of you every day and I'll never forget you," the last words the brown-haired boy had ever said to me.

I sat down on my bed, wiping my tears on the sleeve of my baby pink silk pyjamas. I gasped for air, my lungs hopelessly attempting to get some oxygen in them and my entire body trying hard not to have a total meltdown. I should be used to this by now, this recurring nightmare that visits me in my sleep every single week, the nightmare that has been visiting me ever since that devastating day eight years ago, the day I lost my best friend, oblivious to the fact I would never see him or hear from him ever again.

Those thoughts sunk in and my heart fell to the bottom of my stomach, of course, I had faced the fact that I hadn't seen him in eight years and I probably wouldn't ever see him again but it tore me apart that I would never have the luxury of sharing the most delicious hot chocolate with extra whipped cream from the tiny cafe down the street from my house in Portland, or make snow angels in my backyard. I couldn't cry on his shoulders or have him wipe away my tears, I couldn't hear his voice say that everything was okay or be comforted by his warm embrace. I couldn't do that ever again with him, with Dan.

I brushed away the tears and the thoughts because now I'm in LA, I'm here to pursue a career in acting and achieve my most ambitious goals and desires. I've left my family, Oregon and even memories of Dan behind.

I took a deep breath, trying my hardest to calm down and this time it worked. I glanced up at the clock that hung above my bookshelf, it read 4:19 am. I was anticipating my weekly coffee break at But First, Coffee with my best friend and manager, Nikki. It would be a few hours until 9:00 am so I laid down and got into a comfortable sleeping position and tried to get some rest.

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I tried hard to get every ounce of sleep that I could but I was still exhausted, all my energy was drained by the constant reminders of an event I wish I could forget. If I could hit the "delete" button on any of the events in my life, that one would be it.

I glanced up at the clock once again and it read 8:21 am.

"40 minutes, huh?" I said as I gathered the energy to stand up and get ready.

I walked on the wooden floors of my studio apartment as they creaked- curse the freakishly and unreasonably high prices for rent in Los Angeles. I walked into my en suite bathroom; the only room in my apartment that had walls to separate it from the others. I looked into my mirror and as I had expected my eye-bags were bigger and darker than usual. I brushed my teeth, washed my face and began putting on my foundation. I quickly ran through the rest of my makeup routine and with the power of makeup, my previously lifeless-like and drained face looked completely normal, you could even say better than usual.