Seeing John didn't remind Ava of being in high school, but the smell of him
did, which was strange because he didn't smell the same. Suddenly she was
sixteen with a flat chest and split ends. It took a long time for her to
come back to the present and even longer to get her poise. She smiled and
gave her well practised laugh.
"Said the wrestler. Tell me John what are you going to do when you're old?"
"What are you going to do?"
"Get a face lift."
Then the wall between them was gone. Seeing him made Ava wonder what did his comments then, matter to her now? He'd been wrong and that was enough.
"Look at you all shiny and flawless."
"And you, all tall and buff. I remember when you where a skinny twig."
"I remember you having a smaller clevage."
"It's a push up bra." Ava told him with the same tone she told the press.
"Ava, how long have you known me for? You can tell me if you have implants, I'm not going to go running to the press."
"Ok, ok. I did have implants. Nathen and Josh thought it was a good idea."
John nearly chocked on his drink in shock and if you had been drinking wouldn't you? Ladies and gentlemen, a furthur insight into her life and what she was becoming. Don't worry, you're not ment to understand it now.
"Ava, did you seriously have plastic surgery because your husband said so?"
"No, my agent said so too." she replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
John knew straight away that she wouldn't see how wrong its seemed, so he let it go. He only now began to feel intimidated sitting next to her. He had expected her to be the same person, she clearly wasn't.
"What are you doing next then?"
"A thriller set in the 1950's. I play the perfect housewife and then an ad campagine for Max Factor."
"Busy girl."
"If I had time off I'd be bored."
"Do you miss it here?" John asked.
"No," she answered quickly."No way. I have a better life in Hollywood. I miss things, people. My Mom, Justine."
"Me?" he asked, then laughed.
She laughed too. You can guess the truth. She did. How could she not? He'd been a good friend before he'd become a great boyfriend. He'd only upset her once. It may have been nine long years, but Ava would trust John with her life, behind her agent. She smiled at him.
"You wish."
He saw it again in that smile, the difference. It was too perfect, like she'd been given some mathematical guide of 'Hollywood's Way to Execute The Perfect Smile.'
"You've been doing that all day." He told her. "Smiling. You look crazy when you're sitting alone, smiling."
"That's because I'm happy."
"Really? You're not in LA anymore. Just people who've known you forever. You don't have to act."
"I'm not acting."
She was, she simply didn't know it, not yet anyway.
At midnight the party at the reception hall winded down, but the newlyweds and twenty other people still wanted to party. William Fredlin, Sandra's new husband and the Queer Eye reject, ordered taxi's for evryone to take them to his house where the party would continue. Ava had to hand it to him, he may be ugly but he had money and it her book that was at least one brownie point. The house was larger then Sandra's, but Ava was an actress and it would take a hell of a lot more then four bedrooms and a widescreen television to really impress her. William replaced cheap chamagne with cheap white wine and Ava settled herself on the dusty pink leather couch with a glass. Seconds later Justine was next to her, in the same breidsmaids dress as Ava, with her hair stiff with hair spray.
"What do you think of him?" Justine asked, nodding over to William who was entertaining their Aunt Lydia.
"Where did she find him? The street corner? I don't like him."
"Have you spoken to him?"
"No."
"So you're basing your assumptions purely on how he looks?"
"Yeah."
Justine shook her head and muttered something that sounded strangely like 'unbelieveable.' The Ashcroft Sisters (when they had been that instead of Justine Tobin and Ava Carson) didn't change until Justine got married. Whatever the elder did, it was a sure thing the younger would do the same three years later, just better. When Justine got married Ava was 17 and like everyone else she hated Tyson Tobin with a passion. She hated him even more when Justine gave birth to Kirsten a year later, then a little bit more when Marrissa came along, then some more when he left her and more when Austin was born two years ago. Josh had met him once and Ava pratically beamed when she saw them standing by each other. Her Josh with his blonde hair, suede jacket and expensive jeans. Tyson with his dirty T- shirt and plaid cut-off's. Ava couldn't help it, she had given Justine a smile that just shouted : 'ha ha.' Ever since the void between them had widended and Ava had the feeling in a few years her sister would be selling none too flattering stories about her.
"Nice bag. Where did you get it?' Justine asked picking up her sisters handbag.
"Stella Mc Cartney. One off, especially designed. Retail value about eight thousand dollars."
"Why do you sound like a catelogue?"
"Why are you a bitch?''
"Why are you? You dissappear off for three years and come back like this."
"Successful? I'm sorry if I've refused to fall for the curse of the Ashcroft women."
Justine's unkempt eyebrows drew together and Ava could almost pin point excatly where the surgeon would inject the botox.
"What is that suppose to mean?"
"It's funny how every women before me has ended up raising children alone."
"I may be alone but I'm happy. Let's play a game Ava, it's called charades."
Justine got up and stalked off to where Marrissa was falling asleep. If Ava hadn't been perfectly trainned never to frown, she would of. Obviously Justine was a bitter, jealous cow. Stand them next to each other and note the differences. Justine: divorced mother of three with bad highlights and even worse extensions. Still struggling to lose the weight from Austin, and Marrissa for that matter. Dead end job, dead end life. Ava: Happily married the offically the 2nd sexiest man in the world, fabulous highlights,fabulous figure, fabulous everything. Just won an oscar. She gave a laugh to herself. Who wouldn't be jealous of her?
There was not a chance in hell that she was staging at William's house. The thought made her shudder and Ava took a cab back to Sandra's house and threw herself onto her old lumpy matress and fell asleep surrounded by a musty smell of lavender of her child and teenhood. At six am her tiny, silver ceelphone rang. It was Nathen telling her to get up and exercise off all the food she'd eaten the night before. Like a good little sheep, Ava got up, changed into her exercise clothes and did an hour of yoga in peace. Josh called soon afterwards and reminded her of the premier that night that she would have to change on the plane to get to. When John Cena rang the doorbell a few hours later, her make-up was already on and her hair wound up in curlers. He looked her up and down and tried to figure out the two contrasting styles.
"I knew Hollywood was obsessed with image but do you really need to dress up like that to exercise?"
"I need to go to a premier tonight and won't have time to do my make-up on the jet."
He adjusted his cap. "Right, the jet. Would that be your private jet?"
John had been joking but the way she answered with 'of course' shook him slightly. She stepped aside and he followed her into the backroom. Hanging up over the back door was a floor lenght lilac dress. When John went to touch it Ava almost screamed.
"Don't touch it!" she said. "It's Versace and it was only flown in last week. Donatella would die if it wasn't perfect tonight."
"Who's Donatella?"
"Versace. Donatella Versace. Please tell me you've heard of her."
This couldn't be Ava, not the same person he'd grown up with. What about all those actors and actress who would proudly say 'Hollywood hasn't changed me!' ? Why wasn't Ava one of those? Who really cared about Donatella Versace?
"What premier are you going to tonight?" he asked.
"Josh's new movie, it's called Jaded. A romantic comedy."
"You've got a cameo in it." John said, almost as if Ava didn't know.
Something changed in her face then, it was almost like a drop and he would later describe it as her dropping her skin. She smiled and it wasn't the annoying big teeth smile he'd seen so many times before. It was her and John didn't understand right then why such a trivial thing would make her smile like that, he wouldn't for a long time, but you ladies and gents, you get to know right now. Ava was touched. Not in the 'thank you for voting for me' way, the 'how the hell did he know that' way.
"Where did you hear that?" she asked.
"Come on Ava, when someone you know get's famous you follow their every move. Coincidently, I'm waiting for the right moment to tell the press all your dirty stories."
She let that one slip. "My every move?"
"You know what I mean." He said.
Ava didn't. They had just passed the point of no return and neither of them knew it.
"Said the wrestler. Tell me John what are you going to do when you're old?"
"What are you going to do?"
"Get a face lift."
Then the wall between them was gone. Seeing him made Ava wonder what did his comments then, matter to her now? He'd been wrong and that was enough.
"Look at you all shiny and flawless."
"And you, all tall and buff. I remember when you where a skinny twig."
"I remember you having a smaller clevage."
"It's a push up bra." Ava told him with the same tone she told the press.
"Ava, how long have you known me for? You can tell me if you have implants, I'm not going to go running to the press."
"Ok, ok. I did have implants. Nathen and Josh thought it was a good idea."
John nearly chocked on his drink in shock and if you had been drinking wouldn't you? Ladies and gentlemen, a furthur insight into her life and what she was becoming. Don't worry, you're not ment to understand it now.
"Ava, did you seriously have plastic surgery because your husband said so?"
"No, my agent said so too." she replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
John knew straight away that she wouldn't see how wrong its seemed, so he let it go. He only now began to feel intimidated sitting next to her. He had expected her to be the same person, she clearly wasn't.
"What are you doing next then?"
"A thriller set in the 1950's. I play the perfect housewife and then an ad campagine for Max Factor."
"Busy girl."
"If I had time off I'd be bored."
"Do you miss it here?" John asked.
"No," she answered quickly."No way. I have a better life in Hollywood. I miss things, people. My Mom, Justine."
"Me?" he asked, then laughed.
She laughed too. You can guess the truth. She did. How could she not? He'd been a good friend before he'd become a great boyfriend. He'd only upset her once. It may have been nine long years, but Ava would trust John with her life, behind her agent. She smiled at him.
"You wish."
He saw it again in that smile, the difference. It was too perfect, like she'd been given some mathematical guide of 'Hollywood's Way to Execute The Perfect Smile.'
"You've been doing that all day." He told her. "Smiling. You look crazy when you're sitting alone, smiling."
"That's because I'm happy."
"Really? You're not in LA anymore. Just people who've known you forever. You don't have to act."
"I'm not acting."
She was, she simply didn't know it, not yet anyway.
At midnight the party at the reception hall winded down, but the newlyweds and twenty other people still wanted to party. William Fredlin, Sandra's new husband and the Queer Eye reject, ordered taxi's for evryone to take them to his house where the party would continue. Ava had to hand it to him, he may be ugly but he had money and it her book that was at least one brownie point. The house was larger then Sandra's, but Ava was an actress and it would take a hell of a lot more then four bedrooms and a widescreen television to really impress her. William replaced cheap chamagne with cheap white wine and Ava settled herself on the dusty pink leather couch with a glass. Seconds later Justine was next to her, in the same breidsmaids dress as Ava, with her hair stiff with hair spray.
"What do you think of him?" Justine asked, nodding over to William who was entertaining their Aunt Lydia.
"Where did she find him? The street corner? I don't like him."
"Have you spoken to him?"
"No."
"So you're basing your assumptions purely on how he looks?"
"Yeah."
Justine shook her head and muttered something that sounded strangely like 'unbelieveable.' The Ashcroft Sisters (when they had been that instead of Justine Tobin and Ava Carson) didn't change until Justine got married. Whatever the elder did, it was a sure thing the younger would do the same three years later, just better. When Justine got married Ava was 17 and like everyone else she hated Tyson Tobin with a passion. She hated him even more when Justine gave birth to Kirsten a year later, then a little bit more when Marrissa came along, then some more when he left her and more when Austin was born two years ago. Josh had met him once and Ava pratically beamed when she saw them standing by each other. Her Josh with his blonde hair, suede jacket and expensive jeans. Tyson with his dirty T- shirt and plaid cut-off's. Ava couldn't help it, she had given Justine a smile that just shouted : 'ha ha.' Ever since the void between them had widended and Ava had the feeling in a few years her sister would be selling none too flattering stories about her.
"Nice bag. Where did you get it?' Justine asked picking up her sisters handbag.
"Stella Mc Cartney. One off, especially designed. Retail value about eight thousand dollars."
"Why do you sound like a catelogue?"
"Why are you a bitch?''
"Why are you? You dissappear off for three years and come back like this."
"Successful? I'm sorry if I've refused to fall for the curse of the Ashcroft women."
Justine's unkempt eyebrows drew together and Ava could almost pin point excatly where the surgeon would inject the botox.
"What is that suppose to mean?"
"It's funny how every women before me has ended up raising children alone."
"I may be alone but I'm happy. Let's play a game Ava, it's called charades."
Justine got up and stalked off to where Marrissa was falling asleep. If Ava hadn't been perfectly trainned never to frown, she would of. Obviously Justine was a bitter, jealous cow. Stand them next to each other and note the differences. Justine: divorced mother of three with bad highlights and even worse extensions. Still struggling to lose the weight from Austin, and Marrissa for that matter. Dead end job, dead end life. Ava: Happily married the offically the 2nd sexiest man in the world, fabulous highlights,fabulous figure, fabulous everything. Just won an oscar. She gave a laugh to herself. Who wouldn't be jealous of her?
There was not a chance in hell that she was staging at William's house. The thought made her shudder and Ava took a cab back to Sandra's house and threw herself onto her old lumpy matress and fell asleep surrounded by a musty smell of lavender of her child and teenhood. At six am her tiny, silver ceelphone rang. It was Nathen telling her to get up and exercise off all the food she'd eaten the night before. Like a good little sheep, Ava got up, changed into her exercise clothes and did an hour of yoga in peace. Josh called soon afterwards and reminded her of the premier that night that she would have to change on the plane to get to. When John Cena rang the doorbell a few hours later, her make-up was already on and her hair wound up in curlers. He looked her up and down and tried to figure out the two contrasting styles.
"I knew Hollywood was obsessed with image but do you really need to dress up like that to exercise?"
"I need to go to a premier tonight and won't have time to do my make-up on the jet."
He adjusted his cap. "Right, the jet. Would that be your private jet?"
John had been joking but the way she answered with 'of course' shook him slightly. She stepped aside and he followed her into the backroom. Hanging up over the back door was a floor lenght lilac dress. When John went to touch it Ava almost screamed.
"Don't touch it!" she said. "It's Versace and it was only flown in last week. Donatella would die if it wasn't perfect tonight."
"Who's Donatella?"
"Versace. Donatella Versace. Please tell me you've heard of her."
This couldn't be Ava, not the same person he'd grown up with. What about all those actors and actress who would proudly say 'Hollywood hasn't changed me!' ? Why wasn't Ava one of those? Who really cared about Donatella Versace?
"What premier are you going to tonight?" he asked.
"Josh's new movie, it's called Jaded. A romantic comedy."
"You've got a cameo in it." John said, almost as if Ava didn't know.
Something changed in her face then, it was almost like a drop and he would later describe it as her dropping her skin. She smiled and it wasn't the annoying big teeth smile he'd seen so many times before. It was her and John didn't understand right then why such a trivial thing would make her smile like that, he wouldn't for a long time, but you ladies and gents, you get to know right now. Ava was touched. Not in the 'thank you for voting for me' way, the 'how the hell did he know that' way.
"Where did you hear that?" she asked.
"Come on Ava, when someone you know get's famous you follow their every move. Coincidently, I'm waiting for the right moment to tell the press all your dirty stories."
She let that one slip. "My every move?"
"You know what I mean." He said.
Ava didn't. They had just passed the point of no return and neither of them knew it.