5. Aspen
Chapter 5
Aspen
“ S o, how’s the fifty milligrams of Zoloft going?” my sister, Willow, asks through the phone once we’ve said our hellos. “It’s been two months since you lowered your dose, right? So the new dose should have stabilized by now?”
Five months ago in March I had a terrible anxiety-fueled mental breakdown that landed me in the in-patient unit of an LA hospital for a week. It was a really dark time for me, because not only was my six-year TV show ending—the only real work I’ve ever done—but my mom was also diagnosed with stage three lung cancer. Suffice it to say, that was not my month.
“Yeah, the Zoloft is going well. I actually just had my two-month med-check with my psychiatrist. We talked about medication options, but I think I want to stay on the fifty milligrams. The one hundred made me exhausted and brain-foggy and I really don’t want to have to wean off of it and onto a new medication right when I’m about to start a new film. There’s just too much on my plate to play with my meds right now.”
“Understandable. I guess it’s a balancing act. You don’t want to be so calm that you’re forgetful, but you don’t want to be so anxious that you’re having panic attacks all the time.”
“Yeah, exactly. That’s what I’ve been hearing from my therapist and psychiatrist anyway. It’s sort of a ‘pick your poison’ thing.”
“Speaking of, how's it going with your therapist?”
“Good. I’m still seeing her weekly. She doesn’t think I’m ready to move down to every other week yet.”
“Probably smart, considering you’re about to start filming a movie. Long hours can really fuck with you.”
“For sure. I don’t know how you do a full fashion month twice a year.”
Willow laughs. “I don’t, either. Maybe I need a therapist.”
“You probably do. You’re almost as fucked in the head as I am.”
“I sure hope not,” she teases. “But you’re right, I should look into it. It’s hard since I’m always on the move, though. You’re lucky that you mostly just stay in LA.”
“Excuses, excuses,” I tut. “Tons of them offer telehealth too. You’re just afraid of letting someone into your head.”
“It sounds uncomfortable.”
“It is. But you feel so much better after.”
“Maybe. Or maybe my therapist would quit after one visit with me.”
I roll my eyes, even though Willow can’t see me. “Those types of thoughts are exactly why you should be in therapy, girl.”
“Hey, wait a minute. When did this call turn into me needing therapy? I thought we were talking about you.”
“We can talk about you too.”
“We just talked about me yesterday, nothing else is new. I’m still taking it slow to rest up for fashion week. Oh, but Mom, Maple, Heena, and I are all going to see a Broadway show tomorrow night,” she says. Maple is our youngest sister, and Heena is Willow’s best friend and our honorary sister, since she has a very rocky relationship with her own family.
“Jealous, I want to go too.”
“Fly out.”
“I can’t, I have to prep my lines.”
“I could help you,” she offers.
“You’d distract me,” I counter.
“So wait, speaking of the movie, how did the table read go?”
I can’t say I’m surprised by this question, since I spent an hour last week ranting to Willow about how anxious I was about it. “It was all right. Jack was nice as ever, and the rest of the cast seemed friendly. Except…” I trail off, trying to find the right words. Willow waits patiently on the other line, giving me a beat of silence to collect my thoughts. “Grey wasn’t as welcoming as the rest.”
“How so?”
“Well, he was fine at the table read. Very engaged, a great actor,” I preface, before telling her about our brief interaction.
“Okay, so he sucks,” Willow summarizes.
“Yeah.” I sigh. “And my anxiety has been working overtime trying to figure out what I did wrong, even though my rational mind knows I couldn’t have done anything. If I did somehow offend him, it would have been through something ridiculous. Like I had the wrong posture or outfit or something.”
“I don’t think it would be something like that. Are you sure you’ve never met him before? The only thing I can think of is that maybe you accidentally snubbed him at a past event?”
“Nope. I’m positive I’ve never met him.”
“Well, then it’s probably either he was having a bad day, he’s just a jerk, or, giving him the benefit of the doubt, he’s just so socially awkward that he seems like a dick. But that last one probably isn’t the case. What kind of actor can’t interact well with other people? That’s like the entire job.”
“Right? Looking back on it, it really seems like he’s just a dick. I was only being friendly.”
Willow groans. “I hope he was just having a bad day or something, because it would be miserable to have such a shitty costar.”
“I know. No matter if he’s a dick or not, I have to spend almost every day of the next three months working with him,” I complain. “My character is supposed to fall in love with him. We have a sex scene, for God’s sake.”
“I guess you’ll just have to be a really good actress,” Willow says.
“The sex scene isn’t what’s worrying me,” I say candidly. “Yeah, he’s a dick, but he’s freakishly good-looking. As much as I hate to admit it, I probably wouldn’t even have to pretend to enjoy having him on top of me.”
Willow laughs. “Okay, so what’s worrying you, then?”
“Pretending to love him. That will be a challenge. And so will being on set with him for three months straight. And then having to do a future press tour with him.”
“Just look at it like a challenge, then. You’re a perfectionist—you love a good challenge.”
“I could do that,” I muse. “But would I have to pretend to like him between scenes too? What if Jack or the rest of the cast notices that there’s some animosity?”
“If he really is just a dick, then his comment to you wasn’t personal. So I don’t think he’ll openly dislike you any more than he dislikes anyone else. But you’ll have to try to keep things civil.”
“It just sucks—that shouldn’t be my responsibility. I’m so sick of being the good girl, the one who never makes waves or starts problems. Why is it my responsibility to keep the peace with my asshole costar?”
“Preach, Aspy. But unfortunately, that’s just how it is. Life isn’t fair. But you know how women in the entertainment industry are treated—women in any industry are treated. They’re always the first to be judged, blamed, ridiculed, and hated. So if you and Grey have enough animosity between you that other people on set notice, the rumor mill will assume it’s your fault. That you’re the problem. And then that narrative will inevitably make its way to the public. Trust me, I practically have a PhD in public smear campaigns.”
I groan, rubbing my now-tensed forehead.
Willow continues. “You hypothetically could always just say ‘fuck it’ and treat him as rudely as he treated you. But that’s not you, Aspen.”
“No,” I agree.
“You’re sweet, even if other people don’t deserve it. So just try to avoid any unnecessary contact with him. Even though you’re in the same film, I’m sure there will be plenty of ways for you to keep your distance from him on set.”
“I hope so.”
“Just don’t let him get to you, Aspen. That’s my best advice.”
“Okay. Thanks, Will. I love you.”
“I love you too. Update me on how the first day on set goes!”