Trinity
Chapter 10: 'Fact or Fiction'

It hadn't been all that long ago, Rohan reminded herself, that screen tests had been a normal part of her career. She hadn't always been offered parts based on name-recognition alone. There had been a time when she had competed for the meatiest of film roles, usually losing out to someone with a better agent or publicist in the end. It had only been a few months since she'd experienced that gnawing feeling in her gut, the one that chewed through her self-confidence, exposing the doubt as to whether or not she still had what it took to sell a film.

It hadn't been all that long ago, but it felt like a lifetime ago. So far removed from her psyche that the nauseous feeling in her stomach felt foreign now. It was just an audition. How many had she performed over the course of her career? Too many to count. There was no reason to be nervous about this one. Not when she had Jake in her corner. And her raw talent, once again recognized by the critics and the public alike. Not when she had everything going for her.

But even as she watched the graying winter clouds rolling in over the Pacific, Rohan cradled her coffee cup to her chest and fought the onslaught of foreboding that washed over her. Nothing bad was going to happen. There was no reason for the jitters, the nerves. Absolutely no reason to jump when the cell phone at her side began to ring.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Rohan reached for the phone and flipped it open. "Rohan McKeehan," she stated as coolly as possible.

"Congratulations, my love," Jake's booming voice filled the other end of the phone, causing Rohan to jump once again.

With a shaky laugh, she lowered her coffee cup to the table and cleared her throat. "For what?" He knew that she had an audition, but it wasn't like Jake to offer his praise before she did something. He was known as Hollywood's Ice Man, never satisfied and never smiling. At least, that's what anyone on the outside thought. It was still slightly unnerving for Rohan to experience the gushing mess of a man on the inside. The one who nearly pissed himself to keep her happy. Bizarre.

"The part, Sweetheart," Jake spoke, laughter rolling from his lips. "The Coen brothers film? It's yours, Precious." He mumbled something away from the phone and she knew that he was immersed in another deal even as they spoke. He wouldn't be Jake if he focused on only one thing at a time.

While a part of her wanted to jump up and squeal, the queasy feeling in her stomach moved toward her chest, refusing to settle. "But I thought I had to read it. I mean, Lauren and I were supposed to read for it today," she clarified. She didn't want him to think she was ungrateful, but it wasn't like a director to set up a reading and then hand the part to one of the actresses hours before the audition.

Jake chuckled and ordered an intern to run a document down the hall. Returning his attention to his client, she could picture him raising his feet to the desktop, his designer shoes gleaming in the soft lighting of his office. "You were," he confirmed. "But in a plot twist, of sorts, your competition came down with a pretty vicious strain of the flu. Had to be hospitalized last night. Sounds awful." Though his tone said he thought it was anything but, Rohan fought the urge to gasp. "Production can't wait to sign a leading lady, Sweetheart, and you were the one they were leaning toward anyway."

She wanted to be excited. She really did. But she had prepared for this reading. She had spent hours memorizing the dialogue and practicing different tones and notes. She was more prepared to win the role for herself than she had ever been for anything. To prove to herself that she could still get a part on her own, that she didn't HAVE to have a great agent, or Logan. She was grateful for them, and the last four months of her career had been fantastic. But she needed to know that she was talented, that she deserved what she was getting.

When she didn't respond, Jake's laughter dissipated. "Look, Rohan, this is a gift horse. Turn your head, put on something pretty, and go out to celebrate," he ordered.

Clearing her throat, Rohan stood from her deck chair and made her way back into her apartment. "How serious is this flu thing, Jake? Is Lauren okay?" The competition that he spoke of, Lauren Hall, had been her closest friend since the pair had met in LA nearly fifteen years earlier. Lauren had placed an ad for a roommate and Rohan had answered it. "What hospital is she in?"

Another burst of activity sounded from Jake's side of the phone. "I'll send some flowers in your name, Rohan," he assured her distractedly. "Just remember: One woman's stomach flu is another's Golden Globe nomination. I gotta get goin', but I've already told Joel that you're in, and I'll have the contract sent over. Much love."

Even as the call disconnected, Rohan felt the bile rising in her own stomach, memories of her lunch date with her old friend the day before rushing over her as she ran for her master bathroom.

"Promise me that there'll be no hard feelings tomorrow when I steal this role out from under you," Lauren smiled brightly, her blue eyes dancing as she speared a spinach leaf with her fork and pointed it at her friend.

Rohan nodded her head and sipped from her water glass, trying like hell not to cast a glance at the paparazzi standing just beyond the row of bushes surrounding The Ivy's patio seating. "Only if you promise me," she countered, narrowing her eyes and focusing her attention on the young woman she hadn't seen for months.

But Lauren shook her blond head and popped the salad into her mouth. "Not a chance in hell," she laughed when Rohan's face screwed up in protest. "I will turn on you like Nicole on Paris," she added.

"Ah," Rohan grinned, taking a minuscule bite of her chicken salad. "Now your true colors come out."

There had been a time when the pair were inseparable, but since Rohan had started her 'new' life, she'd had little time for anyone outside of Logan and Randy. It was a shame. She loved Lauren. She just didn't have the time anymore.

"What?" Lauren fired back playfully. "You think just because you've been ignoring me that I've somehow changed?"

"I haven't been ignoring you." Even as she spoke the defense, Rohan knew it was a lie. But it hadn't been an intentional kind of ignoring, so she figured it wasn't an entire fib. "I've been busy."

Lauren's large eyes rolled easily as she sank back into her chair and sipped at her own water goblet. "It's cool," she shrugged. "If I had a fine piece of ass at home, I'd be ignoring you, too."

Fine piece of ass? Rohan nearly sprayed her drink across the table at that thought. Was she talking about Randy? Had Lauren actually bought into all that tabloid garbage? "Please," she rolled her eyes. "Randy's different."

"Different?" Lauren's perfectly manicured eyebrow raised in interest. "Different how?"

In that moment, Rohan couldn't believe she hadn't thought of Lauren sooner. Logan would love Lauren. She was the blond to Rohan's brunette. The light to Rohan's dark side. She was just the type. "If I tell you something, you have to swear not to freak out, okay?" Nodding with all of the anticipation of a high school kid about to learn the juiciest piece of gossip about the head cheerleader, Lauren awaited Rohan's big news. "Randy introduced me to Logan."

Blankly, Lauren blinked. "Logan who?" When Rohan sat back, satisfied, Lauren's expression shifted. But it wasn't the incredulous laughter that had overtaken Rohan that night in Logan's presence. It was a horrified gasp that escaped the other woman's collagen-enhanced lips. "You're fucking kidding me?"

Lauren's reaction implied that she knew of Logan, that she believed in his existence. How could she, though? How could she have been in Logan's presence and not bothered to tell Rohan about it? That couldn't have slipped her mind. Logan wasn't a man soon forgotten. "You've met him?" she asked.

"No," Lauren answered, crossing her arms in front of her on the table, her lunch quickly forgotten. "And the fact that you claim to and have yet to grow horns makes me wonder if you really have," she said, her voice void of any and all joking.

Rohan looked at her friend as though she'd just grown another head. "What are you talking about? Horns?" It was the strangest thing she had ever heard.

But Lauren wasn't joking around. "You've heard the stories, Ro. I know you have. About his power. About Trinity."

Reaching across the table, Rohan lifted Lauren's water glass to her nose and sniffed it quickly before replacing it at the side of Lauren's plate. "Did you spike your water?"

"Blood sacrifices? Dark magics? The club built on the site of an ancient pagan temple? Any of this ringing a bell with you?"

In that moment, Rohan realized that Lauren was totally and completely sober. And serious. Unfortunately, she couldn't be taken seriously. Not by Rohan, anyway. "Come on, Lauren. You don't actually believe that shit, do you? It's folklore. Bull shit fairy tales created by some bored screenwriters or waiter wannabe's."

"You say that out loud," Lauren's voice grew low, as a child telling a scary campfire tale at a sleepover, "but everyone buys into the legend of Logan. In the deep, dark places that they would never dare to speak of, they believe it. And they're either too scared to fight it, or too smart to fall for it." It was clear which side of the fence Lauren thought she fell onto, as well as where she was convinced Rohan was sitting. Pointing a pink fingernail at herself, Lauren went on. "I have talked to people who have pissed him off. People who have seen things you couldn't imagine, Rohan. Experienced things. No mere mortal," she stated, tapping her finger on the top of the table, "can have that much power."

Sinking back in her seat, Rohan folded her arms across her chest and stared her friend down. "You've been watching Charmed again, haven't you?" When they had lived together, Rohan thought that Lauren's Sci-Fi fascination was cute. She had been happy for her friend when she scored a guest-starring role on SG-1. But now she was going a little bit far.

"Tell me this," Lauren challenged, perching on the edge of her seat as she posed her question. "You haven't wondered how your luck just changed? Just like that?" She snapped her fingers. "Overnight?" Tossing her hair over her shoulder without looking at the men with the cameras, she continued. "Why the photographers suddenly follow you everywhere you go? You haven't released a new movie since your last critical flop, and you're dating a fucking professional wrestler, Rohan. A fine one, but still. Why would they give a fuck about you now?" Shrugging, as though it should have been obvious to her friend, Lauren flopped back in her chair with a sigh.

But Rohan didn't want to hear it. Of course she had wondered all of those things, but she didn't want anyone else to wonder. Lauren's suspicions made hers that much more valid, and she didn't want them to be. She wanted to enjoy her ride. "Logan's just a guy, Lauren. A guy with a whole lot of business savvy and some great connections. He hooked me up with Jake," she started to explain, just as she had rationalized it to herself for months now.

"And you don't think that's a coincidence?" When Rohan shot her another blank look, Lauren scoffed. "When they say that you have to sell your soul to Satan to even get a look from Jake Wildman, it's not just a figure of speech."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Lauren," Rohan exclaimed, clearing her throat and lowering her voice when an older woman at the table next to her turned to glance their direction. "Logan is not the devil, okay? He just knows how the business works. He's teaching me how to have longevity in the industry."

"Like how to ignore your friends in order to become an A-lister?" Lauren interrupted.

Shaking her head, Rohan wondered why she had even bothered. Lauren had this crazy, delusional idea that Logan was powered by the Underworld, and she didn't seem interested in budging. "Look, I only told you because I can introduce you. Logan would love you," she started to explain.

But Lauren was done listening. "Oh, no," she insisted, taking another bite of her salad, as if to tell her friend that they're conversation was over. "I'm not taking my chances," she stated firmly. "For the record, I hope I'm wrong," she added with a soft smile, the one that let Rohan know they were still okay, even if they would never agree. "Because if I'm not, I don't wanna know what this little arrangement is going to cost you."

It was a coincidence that Lauren got the flu. As she stood from her place on the bathroom floor, Rohan tried to remember whether or not her friend was looking a little pale during their lunch the day before. She had turned pale, but Rohan knew that was more from the topic of conversation than her friend's immune system. But she had to have already been sick. Or maybe she got food poisoning. Maybe it was bad spinach. Hadn't she heard something about that on the news? She couldn't remember for sure, but she couldn't bring herself to consider the other possibility.

This couldn't have had anything to do with Logan. She hadn't even told him what she and Lauren had talked about. He knew that they'd had lunch. He knew that they were competing for the same role. But there was no way he could have known. . . and even if he had, it wouldn't matter. There would have been nothing he could have done. Nothing so severe. It wasn't like he was magical or anything.

Dialing the phone without thinking, Rohan waiting for the voice mail to pick up. "Logan, hey," she said quickly, unsure of just why she was calling him. "Look, my friend Lauren got sick last night. The flu or something, I guess." Laughing at the sheer notion in her head, she exhaled deeply. "Can you just give me a call? I have some good news." Disconnecting the call, she walked back out to the balcony and looked out at the overcast sky and the gray ocean. Lauren was crazy. Logan was fully human. And she was one step closer to being a real force in the industry. She had to believe that. Anything else was just ludicrous.