Cherry Cola Fantasy

Chapter 5: That Void

"So, Luke, I take it you have a fine taste in music," Ashton raised his glass as he spoke. They were having some red wine in the kitchen; Ashton insisted on preparing Luke food. Luke stood on the opposite side of the island that separates them.

"What does 'fine taste' ensue?" Luke tucked a curl behind his ear. The wine was leaving a pleasant aftertaste in his mouth. The ambiance was nice. Luke could hear the crickets outside, and the amber light reminded Luke of the rare honeysuckles, growing on the trees in his backyard back home.

"Hendrix, Stevie, Queen—you know?" Ashton marinated some sort of sauce into a pan. Luke was entranced by his hands moving so swiftly.

"I like all of them! I really love the Doors, anything really. I've never found a genre that I truly hated," Luke shrugged.

"You just like all music, huh?" Ashton smiled to himself. The man was but a puzzle to Luke. Luke could only guess what Ashton wanted out of all of this; one day, he might build up the courage to ask. That day wasn't coming anytime soon.

"Yes," Luke said simply.

"You know, Luke. Your story fascinates me," Ashton began; he tasted the mix of ingredients on a small spoon. He then added more salt to his mixture. Luke wanted to laugh at how eccentric the older man was. "You've ran away from home. You're trying to make it big through the lottery rather than auditions, and you're just about the shyest person I've ever met. You are a card."

They locked eyes in that moment. Luke saw sparkles in the ring of Ashton's irises. He saw guidance, hope. He'd never admit it out loud, but he thought Ashton's eyes were promising, comforting even.

"I don't know, sir. I had to runaway. Things weren't good back home, you know? Out here on the West Coast, I feel so free," Luke smiled when Ashton placed a plate of pasta in front of him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Don't call me sir, though. I'm not here to be a parent. I'm here to be someone you can trust. Someone to help you live out your dreams."

Luke let that sit in the back of his mind, but then he just had to know more.

"Why me? Why of all the struggling artists am I here right now?" He placed his fork on the island, but he never let his grip loose on the handle.

"I see myself in you. You're not like the rest. Your voice shakes me like the stars. You are a star. The world just doesn't know it yet," Ashton stared at Luke again. Luke shifted, looking down at his plate to avoid blushing.

The room was thick with something Luke couldn't quite pick out. He felt his skin prick with the need to questions Ashton more. He didn't. He finished his pasta in silence and listened to the sound of the air conditioning rattling through the house.

"Do you have any cherry cola?" Luke asked softly—still breaking the silence. "I don't want anymore wine."

Ashton nodded, walking to the fridge to grab a can for Luke. Luke took it with ease. When he opened the can, the fizzy bubbles tickled his tongue. The nostalgic, safe-feeling of drinking the beverage was all Luke needed.

"I love cherry soda," Ashton said. "It reminds me of a simpler time."

"Me too," Luke smiled over to Ashton.

"I hope you let me in, Luke. In order for this music to work, we have to become vulnerable with each other. I want to get to know you."

And Luke nodded, but deep down, it terrified him. If Ashton tried to control him, he would lose all hope in those who wanted to "help" him. That's why he wanted the lottery money. He wanted something that he had done on his own.

+

The desert was lonesome at night.

As Luke sped down the rode with his convertible top down, he could hear nothing but the engine, his radio, and an occasional crackle in the road. His hair was flowing with the wind, and he felt the flying feeling again. A blunt rested between his fingers that clutched the steering wheel.

He had the radio on. Stevie Nicks' sweet voice rang in his ears, and he sang along with her. It was as if they were both casting a spell upon the cacti and the barren nothingness. Luke pictured their voices lighting up the desert with a rebirthing storm that would wash away all of the nothingness and bring life.

Life.

Luke thought about it. Maybe, it was hard to find life when you have always had the desert. Maybe that's why he ran away. Luke didn't know if it were that simple, but he knew that something inside of him remained empty.

He thought it could be his desire for fame. Or maybe, it was his desire for something that Michael—from the gas station—had.

Luke pressed his foot down harder on the gas pedal. He took a hit of his blunt and breathed in the barren landscape. There was nothing beautiful about it but the star that dotted the night sky above his head.

That's what Luke wanted.

Stars above his head that made him beautiful. One day he would be beautiful. He'd be one of those stars.

Luke drove for miles and miles until he was outside of Henderson. He even sped through Vegas. All he wanted was to be alone for the night, sleeping in his car under the stars—inside the empty desert.