There are times when she wants Kyla with her, singing with her and laughing with her and saying philosophical things. But her sister has a life and can only stop it so many times before pushing Ashley back to her own existence.

They hug tightly after pictures and interviews and free meals and getting chased by media.
They order something sweet from room service, which should be closed for guests now – but not for Ashley Davies.
She carries a title with her all the time and it just depends on the day which one you get.
All of those titles are celebrity royalty, though.

'Indie queen' or 'pop singer/songwriter' or 'one hit wonder' or 'head of the Lilith Fair resurgence' or 'seen making out with so-n-so at such-n-such club'… they are all her, just never at the same time.
She is split apart and running in so many directions, each personality getting just a little more demanding for time in the limelight.

But with Kyla, they are just sisters eating triple-fudge ice cream and making fun of the latest incarnation of 'The Real World' and talking about the things that she so disdained in high school.

"Aiden was back here a couple of weeks ago."
"How is he?"
"Better, I think."
"Still in therapy?"
"Yes, but less these days. He wants me to come up there some time and visit."
"You should."
"Would you be interested in going?"
"And bring my trusty gang of paparazzi with me?"
"I've still got those wigs from three Halloweens' ago…"
"I just need a fedora and we're all set, Kyla."
"I'm sure he'd like to see you, that's all. He still thinks of you as a friend."
"Yea, I'm sure."
"I'm not lying, okay? We talk a lot and I believe him when—"
"Are you two back on then?"
"… No, not at all. Why do you always do that?"
"Do what?"
"Push this issue away and try to make it about Aiden and me getting back together…"
"God, Kyla, I'm not doing that—"
"Sometimes I wonder if you'll ever change, Ashley."
"Please, just… let's not do this, okay?"

Maybe she hasn't changed at all, not with all her money and all her fame. Maybe she is still the selfish girl who just can't admit to making a mistake and doesn't know how to ask for forgiveness to save her life. Maybe she doesn't want to talk about Aiden and how she just treated his feelings like shit and didn't pay attention to the fact that he was falling apart.

She was just thinking about how Ashley was falling apart back then.
She was just thinking about disappearing over the ocean and away from a boy who longed for her and a girl who needed her and a life she couldn't handle.
She was in Europe, smoking cigarettes and watching her mother drop to another level of debauchery.
She was in Europe, trying not to dream of gunshots and bloody chests and weeping eyes.
She was in a whole other place while the people she loved were left to cope.

It was all years ago now and, yet, Ashley knows it haunts her… a ghost that doesn't leave with the dawn, a spirit stuck within Ashley's bones like marrow.

"How is she?"

And just like that, it slips out and Kyla frowns to herself and Ashley waits for the rattling of dishes, the bending of spoons.

The medication, which she takes on any transcontinental flight, knocks her out and Spencer dreams of gazelles running against purple-highlighted plains.
And she runs with them, flashes of a camera near her head.

Flash. And they are darting to the right.
Flash. And they are zig-zagging.
Flash. And there is dust flying everywhere.
Flash. And I can't breathe and I can't stop running.
Flash. And I hear an engine roar to life behind me, turning around and skidding to a stop and a lion faces me and it has your eyes… it has your smile, it has your teeth, it has your mane of untamable hair…

"I told you not to follow me here."
"But I have to. You brought me. You bring me."
"No. I cut you away, I set you free."
"I'm not free. I'm with you."
"Fuck you, Ashley… just fucking go back to your pack…"

Flash. And they are jumping, hitting the sky with the moon.
Flash. And I am going to jump, too. I am going to reach the clouds. I am going to hang from the moon.
Flash. And I am going to be free, just you wait and see.

"But you brought me! Dammit, Spencer, you brought me here!"

Flash.

And I look down into your eyes, your eyes in your skull and your body in your dress.
And I drift down, my feet against a sidewalk and my head swimming.
And I hear thunder and I watch as you beg me and as you break me, over and over…

Flash. And gazelles are trampling King High, tearing the ground up with ease.

She wakes up in the jeep, with a man driving who she does not know and with Janice ticking off towns on a map with a highlighter.
And she thinks about this film, the reels and reels filled with the dead and dying, and Spencer wonders how she can live with herself anymore.

The world is turning into a mass grave and all she can dream of is a lover no longer.

And so she thrusts herself as deep as she can get, dirt and sand and tears on her skin like another layer of flesh. She witnesses tragedy, again and again, letting it sink into her soul like the whispered grievances of God. She cries and cries for a child on the side of the road, wanting to know a name to go with the unmoving face.
She learns the features of every mother and every father, stares at the lines etched into their flesh like roads and traces them to shattered eyes.

And yet, Spencer still dreams of Ashley.
More and more frequently, in tents at the center of town and with the distant sound of fighting, she dreams of Ashley as the girl once was.
Before prom and before betrayal and before Clay died and before everything was irrevocably fucked up, that's the Ashley that she dreams of.

Feather light. You are so soft. You are so warm. And when you smile, oh when you smile… don't ever stop smiling at me like that, Ash…

"You've not called me that in a long time."
"I know."

A kiss. On the chin. On the cheek. On the lips. You are so delicious. You are so raw.

"You brought me here."
"I know."
"Good."

A kiss. Everywhere. You are so good at this and I love you so much and I've never wanted anyone the way I want you… don't stop this, just don't stop this, Ash…

"What if I hurt you?"
"I won't care."
"You lie."
"I know, but please… just don't stop this, Ash…"
"Okay, Spence… okay…"

It's been a long time since you've called me that and I've missed it and you don't have to go, I think we can make this happen, I think we are meant to be… don't you, tell me you agree… don't you, Ash…

Spencer Carlin wakes up in Africa on the last day of shooting, body flush with the already humid weather and her skin cracks with dryness as she stands up from her cot.
The dreams rush away like water and she lingers in the hazy shadows of canvas for a minute more, wondering if anything can really be done about severed ties and broken hearts.

She gets her camera and take a self-portrait, her face a map of the world in the bleary light of day, capturing this moment for posterity – a safe journey, a good deed, a moment of truth – all so she cannot deny it later when she returns home.

**** **** ****

TBC