“Uh-huh,” he says. Is this really what rich teenagers talk about? They could be forty years old.
There’s the picture of Ivy with that actor who won the Oscar last year. There’s the picture of her with that famous director, that famous musician, that famous chef, and on and on. I think of Tami with Vaughn, with her empire of people she can demean without consequence, the supposed friends she treats more like they’re her employees, and I wonder about the difference between power and fame. The difference between old money that’s inherited and new money that’s earned. I wonder which has more weight.
Here is Ivy, raw and vulnerable, at the mercy of whoever deems her worth noticing, defined by the eyes that see her. And here is Tami, born knowing how to take whatever she wants. And there is Ash in between them.
And where am I?
There is something desperate in the air. Glasses get filled and emptied, filled and emptied. People hide in corners, doing harder drugs. Eyes bulge out of faces, searching for something.
Ash betrays his usual cool when he spots members of a band waiting in line for a bathroom. They are in sunglasses even though it’s nighttime. “You’re friends with them?” he asks Ivy. “They’re good. They’re really good.” What he doesn’t say is, “I love them. I don’t want any of you to know how much I love them.”
Ash’s dark eyes sparkle for a split second, then Tami looks at him, and the light goes out. “Really, Ash? What are you going to do, go ask them for their autographs? While they’re waiting in line for the bathroom?”
“Why don’t you go ask Celia Lamotte for her autograph?” he snaps back.
Ivy smiles and smiles and smiles. A fight breaks out somewhere. A girl appears to be OD-ing, but is quickly whisked away by her friends without much fanfare. The party goes on.
Ash is a statue by Tami’s side, made of stone. He is a trophy, heatless. Objects can’t feel.
But I see a faint outline of a shadow beneath him, thrown by the artificial light above, and it is twisting itself inside out, trying to break free.
Ivy grabs another glass of wine from a passing server. Tami says, “Aren’t you supposed to be drying out?”
Ash opens his mouth but only pebbles fall out. The impotent tink, tink, tink as they hit the ground is percussion, making a song with the melody of a girl, unseen, crying softly in the distance.
“Oh, there’s Madison,” Tami says, and she disappears around a corner, eager to escape us, to be on her own so she doesn’t have to compete with Ivy’s light.
As soon as she is gone, Ivy grabs Ash’s wrist and whisks him in the opposite direction, and I am left in the vacuum of their absence, on hold.
I don’t know how long I stand there. Time seems to stop and I am just a series of observations without thoughts attached—the sound of that girl crying, the faint smell of smoke and spilled drinks, the sour taste of wine in my mouth, even though I’ve been drinking nothing tonight but water.
And then Ivy and Ash return, their noses sniffling, with pupils the size of pinpricks, a halo of electricity surrounding them as if they are walking in a different reality, they are vibrating with it, and Ash can’t keep his eyes off her, and I think she must have found the right spell, the right potion, to finally make him hers.
But then Tami comes back, and she pulls him away just in time, before Ivy can claim him, and his shadow clings to hers for a few extra moments before it has to break away.
“We have to go,” Tami says. Ash says nothing, just stands there vibrating next to her, his shadow flickering in and out.
“Oh, okay,” Ivy says. “Let’s hang out again sometime.”
“I’ll text you,” Tami says as she pulls Ash away. He turns his head back, his eyes searching for Ivy, but she is already gone.
The only thing I can think to do is to follow Tami and Ash, but I am so quiet, they don’t know I’m there. I imagine Ivy somewhere in the bushes. She must know all the best hiding places.
The gravel makes no sound under my bare feet as I follow them to the end of the driveway. I watch Ash pull Tami into him as they wait for their car to arrive. His kisses are wild and all teeth. He is hunger and more hunger. Whatever potion Ivy gave him is working, but it is all wrong.
Tami pushes him away, a pleased smile on her face. His want gives her power.
“Not now, Ash,” she says.
His breaths are quick and shallow. He is all wound up with nowhere to go. “God, that girl is a train wreck,” Tami says, and Ash just vibrates next to her. “Acting and music are bullshit professions.”
“She’s made a lot of money,” Ash says. “More money than you.”
Tami laughs and the flowers around her shrivel. Dry pine needles fall off nearby trees. Somewhere in the darkness, a frog’s chirp goes silent. “It’s about more than money. You know that. Getting a bunch of idiot strangers to buy your shit doesn’t make you lovable, or whatever sad thing it is she’s looking for. It’s pathetic, really. Needing attention like that. And then walking around like royalty when you have no actual skills that matter. I mean seriously, what has that girl accomplished? Reciting lines on a couple crappy sitcoms, singing some songs she didn’t even write?”
Ash doesn’t hear her. He is in that place where nothing touches him. Whatever potion Ivy gave him helped him get there even better than usual.
“And didn’t she just get out of rehab?” Tami says. “She must have drunk two bottles of wine just by herself. And who knows what else she was on. What a mess.”
That makes Ash laugh. “Why are you so concerned about Ivy Avila? You’re one to talk.”
“People like us know how to hold our liquor. People like us don’t get out of control.”
“People like us. People like us,” Ash sings in his smooth, low voice, with a melody like a children’s lullaby, and his laughter shakes the trees, pinecones knocking together like bells, creating an empty tinny ring, and it is the sound of Ash’s heart knocking around in his ribs, in its crisp, impenetrable shell.
That’s when Tami grabs the collar of Ash’s shirt, twists it tight around his neck, and pulls him toward her with a hard tug. His breath catches where she’s restricting his throat, and he closes his eyes and pushes into her as he gasps for air. She leans over and bites his lip as she slowly releases his collar, and he smiles between her teeth.
Their car arrives. The driver gets out and opens the door, and Tami climbs in. “Come on,” she says from inside, and I try to will Ash to stay. He stumbles, looks back in my direction, his eyes searching but not finding anything.
“Where’s Ivy?” he says, and Tami reaches her long arm out, grabs him by the belt, and pulls him into the car.