Just a Number
Disclaimer: I don't own MIOBI.
Summary: What if Sasha never came to The Rock? He was never her coach, and she was never his gymnast. Now all that stands between them is the age gap . . . and the Atlantic Ocean. Not to mention his reputation, the competition, and the fact that everyone seems to have an opinion on how she should feel about him and nobody thinks he's right for her. Nothing between them but age, and well . . . it's just a number anyway, right?
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Just a Number – The Magic of Misdirection
In Touch Weekly – 29 November 2011
Image left: Payson Keeler seen at University of Colorado game with 'Rock' teammate, Nicholas Russo. Image right: Sasha Belov seen with ex, Erina Vincent, at the premiere of Rise of the Anarchist.
Wherefore Art Thou Beloved?
Celebrity sightings this weekend were not as expected for famous gymnastics pair, Sasha Belov and Payson Keeler. Payson Keeler was spotted supporting the local Buffaloes at the Colorado-Nebraska College football showdown. Keeler was seen at the game with Nicholas Russo, a fellow gymnast at The Rocky Mountain Gymnasium (affectionately known as simply 'The Rock') in Boulder, Colorado. Russo was linked to fellow gymnast Kaylie Cruz back in 2009, and more recently, Keeler's Denver rival, Kelly Parker. The two were caught on the Stadium's KISS CAM and seemed happy to oblige.
Two and a half hours away, Sasha Belov was spotted at the Los Angeles premiere of the new action thriller Rise of the Anarchist, starring Ryan Gossling and Megan Fox. Belov accompanied actress Erina Vincent down the red carpet, who played a minor role as Gossling's autistic sister at the heart of the drama. Vincent and Belov had a brief affair earlier this year, but it looks as though things might have been rekindled of late and his presence did not go unnoticed at the premiere.
These sightings clearly remove all hope for those that had been rooting to see Belov and Keeler pair off before the Olympic Games next July. Belov, whose presence in the country had been kept very cloak and dagger, seems to have made a special trip to be with Vincent for this special premiere. While their reported romance earlier this year seemed to fizzle out due to their work commitments, both are currently free from the obligations that might have kept them apart. Belov is not due to compete again until . . .
Rocky Mountain Gymnasium – Boulder, Colorado.
"Should we tell Payson?" Lauren asked seriously, glancing down at the magazine pictures, and then back up at her friends. The three of them – Lauren, Kaylie, and Emily – were huddled over the latest issue of In Touch Weekly poring over an article featuring their best friend and her potential love interest.
Emily frowned and shrugged her shoulders. "Is there anything to tell?" she asked. "I mean, they're just making guesses from what they know. There isn't anything concrete and some of the information they're relying on is obviously wrong.
"Like him being in America for the premiere," she said, pointing to a particular paragraph in the article. "They think he only got here Saturday and went straight to LA, but he was in Boulder for four days before they even knew he was in the country. Clearly these guys aren't all that good at their job."
"Good point," Lauren nodded in agreement. "And they're totally making way too big a deal out of that KISS CAM thing – it was barely even a kiss on the cheek.
"But what if he really is getting back together with his ex?" she added more concernedly, "Shouldn't we warn her?"
"Warn her about what?" Emily countered. "We've got nothing to go by but these pictures and they don't even look particularly couple-ly. The only evidence we have of anything is a gossip magazine."
"Besides," Kaylie cut in to reinforce Emily's argument against telling Payson, "it says she's with Nicky, so why would she even care? Didn't she already tell us she wasn't interested in him?"
Lauren rolled her eyes and gave Kaylie a dry, sanctimonious look. "She is so not with Nicky," she stated plainly, annoyed that clearly hadn't listened to a word she said. "Who in their right mind would want Nicky Russo when they could have Sasha Belov? Why wouldn't she be interested?"
Emily nodded her agreement, looking slightly pained for having to agree with Lauren. "It all looks a bit too much of a coincidence to me," she added. "I mean, they both get photographed with other people on the same weekend? I wouldn't be all that surprised if MJ was involved in this."
Kaylie shrugged, taking a second look at the piece. She had to admit that it had MJ Martin written all over it – this was exactly her MO and anyone who knew better would probably see right through it. Knowing how the business worked, Payson's agent had probably set up the KISS CAM herself.
"So what do we do?" Lauren asked, forcing the little pow-wow to reach some sort of conclusion. "We just . . . pretend we didn't see this?" she suggested seriously, lifting the evidence in her hands.
"Just . . . don't say anything unless Payson says something first," Emily finally suggested. She bit her lip and glanced nervously towards where her friend was working on her new floor choreography with their coach.
"Do you think maybe she knows already?" Lauren asked and let her gaze follow Emily's. "She has been kinda snippy all day. Maybe she's just lashing out to hide the heartache."
Kaylie snorted back a laugh. "This is Payson we're talking about, Lo," she reminded her friend. "Payson doesn't do heartache.
"And my money's still on Nicky," she said, pulling on her grips in order to indicate that the conversation was coming to a close. "Sasha's too old for her. And their personalities totally clash. He's all, like, serious and has this whole bad boy thing going on. She needs someone sweet like Nicky, who shares her values and has all the same beliefs."
"Sounds kinda dull to me," Lauren scoffed disdainfully. "Thoughts, Kmetko?" she said looking to Emily to break the tie.
Emily shrugged. "It's up to Payson," she answered vaguely. "Maybe we shouldn't be so quick to judge either way."
"But if you had to pick . . ." Lauren insisted, wheedling a choice out of Emily.
The other gymnast sighed and reluctantly chose, knowing well enough that Lauren would not quit until she did so. "I guess I'd pick Sasha," she admitted, "but only because . . . I don't know." She trailed off, realizing not a moment too soon that she had almost given away Payson's secret. She quickly improvised a reason for her choice that had nothing to do with Payson liking Sasha a lot more than she was letting on to their two friends.
"Don't you think she's a little out of Nicky's league?" Emily asked with a grimace, feeling only a little bad for what she was about to say about Nicky. "Payson's the number one gymnast in the world," she intoned seriously. "Nicky's not even number one in this gym."
"I didn't think of that," Lauren gasped excitedly, happy to have another reason to support her OTP. "I'm gonna go talk to Payson," she declared as she saw Payson finishing up with Marty.
"Lauren, remember what we said," Kaylie warned as the blonde walked away.
"Yeah, yeah," she waved off.
"Why do I feel like nothing we said to her even mattered?" Emily questioned aloud as she narrowed her eyes at Lauren's receding figure.
"You know Lauren," Kaylie shrugged. "She's not after advice; just accomplices."
Payson had seen the three of them huddled together from the corner of her eye. She'd seen the furtive glances they kept sending her way, and the sense she had that they were convening behind her back was only heightened as Lauren began a purposeful stride towards her. There was a familiar look in Lauren's eye – the sort of look that Lauren got when she had a secret she was just dying to tell, only Lauren was really bad at secrets and liked to pretend she wasn't by forcing you to get the truth out of her, even when you had no interest in whatever gossip Lauren wished to expel.
"So, Payson," Lauren began cordially enough, "read anything interesting lately?"
Payson blinked at the strange and seemingly innocuous question. She tried to figure out whether it was some kind of trick question, but she could see nothing hidden in it that Lauren could possibly be trying to extract from her. "Well I just finished Mother Tongue," she answered nonchalantly. "It was really interesting, although I'm not sure I agree to him on some of the stuff he said about English being superior to all other languages. Not when the German's have a word like Backpfeifengesicht."
Lauren scowled, clearly unimpressed by Payson's witty repartee. "And how's Sasha?" she asked trying a different route.
Payson frowned and took a moment to craft a more careful answer. She looked briefly towards Emily, wondering if the other gymnast had shared the details of her secret kiss, but she was fairly certain that Lauren was the last person that Emily would gossip with and Emily had given her word that it wouldn't go beyond the two of them.
"You know he went to LA for some media work," she answered. "He must have gotten back this morning, because his trucks back in the parking lot, but I haven't seen him since last Wednesday." She decided not to mention to Lauren that they had been in contact via text, especially as the conversations were innocent enough not to warrant Lauren's attention. She was starting to realize there was quite a lot people didn't know about her interactions with Sasha.
"I wonder what he was doing in LA?" Lauren asked, tapping her chin thoughtfully. Knowing Lauren as well as she did, Payson could sense almost implicitly when the other blonde was fishing for information and when a comment was sent out to bait her.
"Probably the same sort of things we do," she shrugged vaguely. "Photo shoots, social gatherings, cameos. Maybe even the odd movie premiere given his level of celebrity."
The smile on Lauren's face widened almost cruelly. "I bet he knows heaps of people in LA," she smiled. "Didn't he used to date an actress?
"What was her name?" she asked herself aloud, looking emptily into the air and testing names silently on her lips as though it was just on the tip of her tongue.
"I don't know, Lauren," Payson replied tiredly with annoyance creeping into her voice as Lauren drew out her little game of show and tell. "You know I don't keep track of any of the celebrity gossip around. I barely know whose seeing who at the gym. You've always been better caught up on that sort of thing."
Lauren preened a little at what she saw to be a compliment and what Payson saw to be neutral at best. "Yeah, but I'm not the one whose practically seeing the guy," Lauren argued back encouragingly. "You're the one who'd know if he was meeting up with someone in LA."
'So that was it,' Payson realized as Lauren revealed her cards with a sympathetic smile. Sasha had been seen with someone in LA – some actress ex-girlfriend apparently from all the hints Lauren had been dropping – and Lauren was trying to gauge her reaction and get all the latest gossip before everyone else. It wasn't deliberately cruel like the Lauren of two years ago would have tried, but more unthinkingly hurtful like the Lauren who was too intent on getting what she wanted to think about what her words and actions might do to others.
She kept her face neutral because this was what Lauren wanted. She wasn't after shock or some over-blown emotional display of heartache. Lauren was practically Head Cheerleader of the Payson-Sasha Fan Club and what she wanted to hear right now was that the photos were just some ruse to get everyone off the scent and to hide their secret, burgeoning romance from those who weren't in the know.
"I suppose I would," Payson answered vaguely, crafting her reply to Lauren's purpose. She walked away to the locker rooms to change without saying more and left Lauren to draw her own conclusions from that.
Oh she felt like such a fool. Despite her own insistence, she'd let herself believe that she and Sasha were something more. More than what, she wasn't sure, but it was something.
But she was mistaken. If he was visiting ex-girlfriends in LA, then she had clearly been a fool to think anything of the brief moments that occurred between them. She had let herself jump to all kinds of ridiculous romantic notions grounded in nothing but fantasy.
'Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss,' she echoed sadly to herself as she pushed out of the gym into the overcast grey car park.
"Payson!"
'Speak of the devil,' she thought to herself as she turned at the sound of her name. She forced a smile as she made herself walk the short distance between herself and Sasha, who stood in the door of his trailer eating a bowl of cereal.
"How are you, Payson?" he asked warmly, smiling a smile she had found so charming a week ago and which – much to her dismay – continued to charm her now, even as a small part of her urged her to cause him physical pain and suffering with his own spoon.
"Good," she answered in a clipped manner. She grimaced slightly before shifting the topic to something that she could talk to him about with a more genuine smile. "Jayden came by on Monday and we started working on new choreography for my floor routine."
"That's great," he responded before shoving a spoon of cereal in his mouth. "How was your ballet class today?" he asked hopefully, swallowing quickly so he didn't have to talk around a mouthful of shredded wheat.
Her eyes narrowed and a cry of frustration escaped her lips. It was one thing to force pleasantries about her gymnastics, but she wasn't in the mood to play nice, and certainly not about this. "I tried to be good at this," she complained moodily. "I even apologized for not putting in more effort and she still treats me like a circus freak, and I still feel like the most uncoordinated person in the world. And now I have to go to an extra class this afternoon to make up for 'those in which I was merely physically present'," she finished pompously, obviously imitating the words of her instructor.
"Payson," he began consolingly, putting his bowl aside and moving forward so he could take her hand in his own. She crossed her arms to prevent him from doing so and to form a sort of barrier between them. He sighed in vexation but continued, "Payson, I know that you don't want to be wasting your time with ballet when you feel you could be getting so much more value out of refining your gymnastics skills. And I know there's at least a small part of you that's uncomfortable with this sort of thing, but I hope you realize that this is only going to make you better in the end," he insisted.
"Trust me, Payson," he assured her, not seeming to notice the way her eyes narrowed and her jaw tensed at his words, "you'll be a more complete gymnast and every one of your routines will be enhanced for this small effort. You just need to keep your mind on why this matters – it's all for the Olympics."
"You weren't there, Sasha," she protested childishly, crossing her arms more tightly over her form. "You weren't just poked and prodded for three hours and told that you have about as much prowess for ballet as Quasimodo. You're not the one who has to spend her mornings with Mistress Viola who is mean, and rude, and," she continued, flailing for a moment as she searched for the right word. "Mean," she finished crossly, dropping her hands dramatically to her sides.
"It's easy for you to just stand there telling me what to do and spouting your inspiration drivel," she told him bitterly, "but you're not the one who has to do any of this."
He balked a little at the sudden show of temper, seeing a side of Payson that he hadn't encountered before. Due to better sense, he refrained from rolling his eyes at the teenage temper tantrum (of which he'd performed his fair share of at the same age), but that didn't stop the disbelief from flashing across his features. "Payson, where are you going?" he asked as she turned and walked away from him and headed towards her car.
"I have to go buy a new leotard for this afternoon," she answered without looking back. "Apparently my current leotard is unflattering to my body type."
He could sense the grimace on her face even though he couldn't see it. "And another thing," she added, turning back as she roughly tossed her gym bag into the back seat, "I don't care if your face is on the box – who eats cereal at one o'clock in the afternoon?"
Sasha frowned as she slammed the door and situated herself in the driver's seat, before driving away in the most aggressive manner he had ever seen. He wondered what on earth he could have done to annoy what all his previous encounters told him was a sweet and even-tempered young woman.
"But I'm not on the cereal box," he protested weakly even though there was nobody there to hear him.
He was really going to have to do something about that.
~ to be continued ~
Almost forgot to post this today, but remembered just in time, although I haven't done a proper proof read yet so there were probably some typos and the like. Now you've got a clear standing on where the rebels all stand: Lauren is definitely Team Sasha, Emily is Team Whatever-Makes-You-Happy, and Kaylie is Team Get-That-Man-Away-From-My-Daughter, although with a slight variation.
Notes:
Mother Tongue - Bill Bryson. I love his books even if some of the stuff in it gets a bit oversimplified or he makes broad generalizations in order to have mass appeal, but it's just so darn readable.
Translations:
Backpfeifengesicht: According to Adam Hill's definition of his top three german words (with Schiessen Bedaun and Schadenfreude completing the list) it means 'a face sorely in need of a fist'. Honestly, how on earth could English be a superior to a language with such a word in it?