[Rosalynd]
“ROSALYND!!!!” Gary, the director of “Evenings with Enchantra,” bellows from across the room, like a flatulent walrus, his jowls flapping.
“Sir?” I respond meekly as I trip clumsily over my own feet, catching a vase full of artificial flowers. Not that I had to worry about it breaking. Everything is plastic: designed to look appealing but containing no substance.
“I don’t care what you have to do,” he spat in my face, chunks of half-chewed donut landing on the lenses of my practical, yet stylish, glasses. “We cannot delay the filming any longer. Enchantra needs to be on set in 15 minutes or I’ll find someone younger to replace her.”
I don’t deserve this abuse, but as my mom’s assistant, this kind of thing happens almost daily.
“We need to get this Halloween special filmed and edited by the end of this week!” Gary reminds me as I march down the hall.
“Yes, Sir!” I salute giving him a backward wave as I leave the room.
“If she isn’t here and ready to go, tell her we’re through!”
I have no idea how I am going to get her ready in time. She tends to be extra dramatic on filming day, Her natural tendency towards procrastination is enhanced by stress-induced anxiety, she is a nightmare to be around. Like a cyclone, she creates disaster as she moves through a room, causing havoc in her wake.
`The last time she was late it was because her latest “plaything” had dumped her. She was depressed and despondent, crying off her makeup, her face red and blotchy. We lost half a day of filming to her foul mood. This time, who knows what it could be? Maybe they put the wrong color M&Ms in her dressing room again. She threw a fit the last time she got a mixed-color bag instead of her preferred green.
“The green ones are an aphrodisiac,” my mother had explained. “Everyone knows that.”
Everything Enchantra did had to be either “dramatic” or “sexy.” She didn’t do “boring” or “basic.”
Except for having me. A plain, boring, shy daughter with nothing remarkable about her.
My entire life, my mother has made sure to remind me that I am the most “basic” thing she has ever created.
As I walk down the hall, I pull my phone out of the leather satchel which I wear strapped across my chest. I flip through my text messages, hoping to see something from my sometimes boyfriend, Hunter. Lately, I’ve gotten the feeling that he might be trying to break up with me. I’m a bit hurt, but not entirely surprised. Boys never stayed interested in me for very long. They were often disappointed that the daughter of The Enchantra Grey was, well...me. Hunter, like all of the others before him, probably realized he could do so much better.
I have noticed that recently, everything has changed between us. No more cute “just because” text messages. No more surprise flowers. We’ve only gone on two dates in the last two months, and each time he’d drop me back off at my house, he would tell me he needed to rush off to rehearse with his band. I know that keeping a relationship alive when both parties seem to be overwhelmed can be difficult, but I have been willing to do whatever is needed to make it work. I even took time off from school to help his band with food runs, only to have him get mad one night when I stopped by with dinner for everyone. He told me that I was “embarrassing him” and being “smothering” and that as a couple we needed to spend some time apart because he “needed more space” to focus on his music.
I know what that means.
I close my phone, sighing as I reach the end of the hallway. An oversized gold star adorns the red door of my mother’s dressing room, “Enchantra Grey” written across it in a bold, cursive font. As I lift my hand to knock, I stop. Coming from behind the door, I hear the rapid breathing and moaning of two people in the middle of a carnal act.
Not again.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I bang on the door. “Mother!! You need to be on set in 15 minutes!”
The moaning in the background started to grow louder, as if tuning me out was turning her on.
“Enchantra!!” I shout again, banging harder. “You need to finish up, NOW, or you’re going to lose your job!”.
I stood outside her room for another 5 minutes before the banging and moaning stopped. A minute later, my mom opened her door a crack, her dyed red curls hanging over her face in disarray.
“Oh, you’re still here” She giggles. I don’t know why, nothing about this situation is amusing.
“Gary wants you on stage...” I look down at my watch, “...in 10 minutes.”
Her brightly-colored patterned silk robe barely covers her engorged breasts, even with her hand holding it shut. I can easily see the outline of her stimulated nipples pressing taut across the fabric.
Behind her, a hand reaches around to grab her at her crotch playfully. “Stop it!” she slaps his hand with a friendly swat, giggling again.
Pinching my nose and closing my eyes behind my glasses I try to erase what I just saw from my memory.
“Tell Gary I’ll be in makeup in 5 minutes” Her face turned away, all attention on the person behind her. “Now shoo” she dismisses me with a wave of her hand before slamming the door in my face.
“Fine,” I say under my breath.
I turn and begin to head back up the hallway when I hear a masculine chuckle followed by, “Is she gone, babe?”
I stand frozen in place, my heartbeat loud and fast in my ears.
I’d know that rough-edged voice anywhere.
I’m not usually the jealous type, but something began to burn inside me. Turning around and knocking on the door again, I get no response other than increasing moans. Taking another deep breath I do something I promised myself I’d never do again. I pull out my key and unlock the door.
Inside my mother is lying on top of her makeup table, its contents spread all over the floor in a fit of passion, her legs in the air in a wide V shape. Between her legs is a young man eating her out like she is the most delicious fish taco he has ever tasted.
“Oh god, babe, your pussy tastes so good!” The young man says before going down again. She grabs a fistful of his bleach-blond hair in response. My cheeks are flushed red with both embarrassment and anger. She begins pulling his head up and down, controlling the movement of his tongue as it moves in and out of her slit.
Unable to watch anymore, I rush outside of the room, slamming the door.
Trying not to vomit, I removed Hunter’s contact number from my phone.
And then I began to run.
[Rosalynd]Crying, I run back down the hallway. As I pass Gary, he tries to stop me. Screaming unintelligibly, he grabs my arm roughly, forcing me to listen to his babble, my mind unable to focus on his words."What the hell is wrong with you, Rosalynd?" His nails dig into my flesh. "Where the hell is your mother?"Thinking of exactly where my mother is, I snag my arm out of his grasp and throw the studio keys back at him. "Why don't you go find out for yourself?!" I get up close to him, our faces only inches apart as I yell. "Fuck this place! Fuck this job! I'm done!"For the first time in the 10 years that I've known him, Gary is silent. Like a fish, his mouth moves up and down as if instead of trying to say something he is gasping for air.The metal outer door to the studio closes with a loud band and I find myself in the parking lot. It doesn't take me long to find my car, the distinct shade of rusted metal red easy to discern amongst the smooth and shiny rentals and new leases. I
[Rosalynd] It’s late by the time I’m ready to stop for dinner. I’ve been driving for almost 10 hours, only stopping to get gas. It's easy to forget, sometimes, how long the state of California really is until you find yourself traveling from the bottom to the top of it. My poor car has never seen this many miles in one day, so when I stop into the parking lot of this quaint restaurant just off of Hwy 101, I hear it make a faint wheezing sound as I turn off the engine. That’s not a good sign. I walk into the backyard garden to order my food. It is beautiful, oversized sunflowers are taller than me as I walk through a path of wildflowers and native plants, buzzing with life. A grandmotherly figure takes my order and her husband, a kind old cowboy, brings my food to my table, bringing me a large cold glass of cola. “On the house,” he explains. “You look like you could use something to perk you up.” “Thank you,” I gratefully take a sip. “Oh gods, this is good.” “May I ask you a ques
[Axel]She barely says anything as we drive through the forest. I can hear her little heart beating like a caged bird. I hate that I am unable to make her feel at ease. There is something about her, something different which draws my attention. She is both fragile and strong simultaneously.I feel torn. My wife and Luna, Alexa, left us a year ago and I have not been able to move on. I think part of me is still wishing she’d come back, even after the divorce papers arrived on my doorstep. So I feel a little guilty as I sit here, lusting after another woman. Rosalynd smells amazing, like juniper and sandalwood. She isn't even a wolf, but I feel a connection to her, almost stronger than anything I ever felt with my mate bond. It was that connection that led me to her as she huddled frightened in the night, curled inside her car. I know she must have heard me and I realize that the experience must have been traumatizing. Not a great way to start a potential relationship…but I am getting
[Rosalynd]It's weird, standing in some strange man's kitchen, trying to remember what he said about tea. Especially when you were too busy watching him walk away…Good God! I don't know why I'm suddenly all hot and bothered. My heart is still broken over the hurt I received from Hunter's betrayal--I’m not ready to start something new, but here I am, fantasizing about someone I hardly know. Yes, he’s manly in ways I’ve never experienced, animalistic and raw, while still tender and considerate. He’s nothing at all like the little punk boys I dated back home. He is a man with a life, a home, and a son. Wow. That means the boy has a mother somewhere, which means he might still be married.I’m also not 100% sure he isn’t a serial killer.Can serial killers also be good fathers?Shaking my head at my silliness, I take a look around as I wait for the tea to brew.Axel’s house is simply stunning. Set on a hill overlooking the river, it is made of wood and glass, with exposed beams overhead a
[Rosalynd] "Little Pig, Little Pig, let me come in.." "NOOOOO Dada!" a small voice laughs, followed by the sound of chasing feet around his living room. "I wanna be the wolf this time." I am lying in a small bed in a guest room tucked underneath his stairs. Axel offered it to me as a place to rest while I waited for my car to be repaired. After a quick shower, I soon fell asleep. But now I am awake, wide awake. I lie there for several minutes, not sure if I should interrupt their scene, or wait for it to simmer down before coming out and asking
[Slone] Rosie called me. Her voice sounded light and carefree. So very different from the day before. I didn’t want to tell her my news when I was speaking with her on her trip up north, because I knew how much stress she was experiencing. Which might be why she was standing in front of me, her face tight with shock. “So…” Rosalynd's face barely moves as she grits out the rest of her sentence “You’re telling me now, right now, after I traveled almost 700 miles, risking rain and wolves and serial killers on my way to live with you, after several phone calls where you could have explained your situation, that there is no place for us to stay…at all.”
[Rosalynd] I close my eyes, thinking about all the things I wish I could do with my life. I wish I could be strong and successful on my own. That I can follow where my heart leads me. I need a place to feel safe, loved, and wanted. I need to feel that for myself more than anything. I desire something real, something solid. A family. I send this thought out into the universe. I can feel the warmth of these thoughts wrap around me like a blanket, both comforting and gentle. I take a deep breath, and I feel the heat of a greater force, an energy beyond myself, fill me to the brim with energy and light. At that moment, I know that the universe hears me. I open my eyes. The crystals around me are glimmering with red, green, blue, and golden light, but none are glowing as brightly as the one in my hands, the large piece of uncut rose quartz, which is now warm to the touch, pink glowing from its center, magnified by the facets of the crystal. The warmth of these glowing stones fills m
[Rosalynd]“Rosie! You are magical!!” Slone says slowly, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me with each word as we leave Evander’s house, new keys in hand.“You just want to see magic everywhere,” I assure her. “I’m just me, Rosie Reid. Nothing special here.”“I have been in this forest a THOUSAND times and not once have I found that trail.” She points to the dirt path that leads to Evander’s lush garden.“OK,” I admit, shrugging, “Maybe I’m lucky….”“And,” Slone continues, “You found us a place