10America hated her name. When she was little, she used to adore it. It was sweet and special and suited her. Now she just hated it.
America… after her country? After the American Dream?… America laughed at the American Dream anyway. It was unattainable and only for a lucky few who managed to slip past destiny's game with trials and tricks. The rest of the players were left to fend for themselves with their disoriented view of the so-called American Dream. You had to work hard for success – it wasn't just handed over to you on a silver platter.
And Singer. Singer was like a taunt to America. America loved to sing and play instruments when she was a child. She dreamed of becoming a famous Broadway actress. She dreamed of going to Juilliard and being a star pupil that teachers loved. Instead, she was left to audition for foot commercials. She attended a shabby college with an even shabbier performing arts program.
Anyway, America Singer just seemed like an awfully tacky, annoying name.
Tony loved it. He said that it was a highly marketable name and was ready for a star. "Unforgettable," he called it. But Tony Leger loved tacky things anyway. Going to his agency and participating in cheesy, cringe worthy commercials and stunts was her only hope of surviving in a world of stars and celebrities.
America's phone buzzed in her pocket, making the rest of her classmates turn around and look at her. Half of them peered over her shoulder to see who was calling her, eager for gossip during an awfully boring lecture. One of her classmates, Brenna Watkins, nearly toppled over her chair trying to catch a glimpse of America's phone.
The rest of her classmates shushed America with a dirty look and an annoyed expression. Among them was Margareta Stines, one of the most popular girls at Pierce. She flipped her dark brown hair in annoyance, sending a miniature whirlwind of strawberry shampoo and heavy perfume in the classroom. "Some of us actually want to learn, you know!" she hissed. "What a loser."
America rolled her eyes. Since when did Margareta Stines care about something else other than her hair? America doubted the fact that Margareta was even capable of reading. As she whirled back around, she figured that the caller was Aspen and smiled as she pushed her phone back into her pocket. Margareta and her snobby attitude couldn't ruin her day.
As soon as the bell rang, signaling the end of class, America pulled out her phone and dialed his number. "Aspen? You called?"
"Want to cut class today?" he asked, filling the air with his warm, rich voice. "I know a great place for lunch."
"Sounds great to me. Let me get my bike, and we can ride over there. Meet me at the quad, okay?"
"Mer, sounds like a plan. Let's go." America could practically see the easygoing smile on Aspen's face as he spoke through the phone.
The couple met at a small bistro. It was quiet and nearly abandoned, with America and Aspen being the only customers in the building. Their waitress was behind the counter, checking her phone, and the cashier was half-asleep. No one was there on the upper floor, giving the two privacy as they went into a secluded booth.
"I like this," said America. "It gives you a nice sense of solitude, doesn't it? Do you come here often?"
"Not really. Just discovered it, actually. The twins – Kamber and Celia told me about it. They go to college with the owner's daughter, apparently."
"Ah, Kamber and Celia. They're just as 'responsible' as May, aren't they? Going to rich people colleges and acting all smart?"
Aspen laughed, running a hand down his chocolate brown hair. "I guess you could say that. But I genuinely miss the old them."
"I couldn't agree more," asked America, taking a sip of her coffee. "Well, let's stop talking about our boring siblings. How about your own career? Any job offers? Any opportunities? Any chances to make it big?"
Aspen laughed. "It's not going so well. It's okay though – being a freelance journalist is much better than being owned by some company who wants you to write what they see. I can make my ends meet this way. And, I still have a part-time job at Olive Garden. I can make things work." He smiled, but weariness tugged at the corners of his mouth.
America swirled her coffee with a straw. Aspen was too good to be some local journalist struggling to pay rent. He was clever and quick and witty. He was kind and caring and selfless. He deserved to be someone. He deserved to have fame and success. America could see that he wasn't really happy with his current job, and she knew that he wanted more. Aspen deserved everything in the world, yet he had nothing.
That was what the two of them shared in common. They both yearned for success in what they were passionate about. They both chased their dreams, no matter how faraway they happened to be. America, an aspiring singer, and Aspen, a hopeful journalist, gravitated together because of their ambitions. And even though their life was crummy today, it couldn't be worse tomorrow. They didn't believe in miracles but they did believe in hard work and success going hand in hand. The American Dream might have been wishful thinking, but they knew that they could make it in the end.
"If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?" Aspen asked. The pair laid on the grassy ground, looking up at the dark sky surrounded by swirling stars. Bright lights streaked across the sky. "Look on the shooting stars, Mer. Wish on something!"
"You know what I want. It's the same as what you want."
"And what's that?"
"Success," America replied. "Stability. A future. A career as a Broadway star or a musician. A happy, united family. I want to see Kenna more often. I want Kota to be happy with this family. I want May to see that she doesn't have to grow up so quickly. I want Gerad to look up to me. I want my parents to be proud of me."
"One thing, Mer. Pick one," Aspen teased with a smile.
"Success and stability go hand in hand. Well, I guess I want anything that I don't have right now. I want a big house with room for all of my crushed dreams and spirits. I want a college that can teach me how to reach the sky without crashing back down. I want a career that can erase all my failures until nothing's left but success," America said, pausing for breath. "I want to be able to have enough food on the table to make my stomach forget the feeling of hunger. I want to have clothes on my back that will make me feel like I will never live in poverty again.
"Someone's getting philosophical, here."
"I guess there's just so much I want that I can't have. It's a bad thing," America laughed. "Well, there is another thing I want. I want to never have to see old Margareta Stines ever again. God, that girl really is something."
Aspen chortled. "Does she still use that horrible, sticky strawberry shampoo? I nearly passed out from that after sitting behind her last year."
"Of course she still uses strawberry shampoo!" America laughed. "I'm pretty sure that she came out of her mother's stomach with a full head of brown hair slathered in strawberry shampoo. But if you think Margareta is bad, you should see Brenna Watkins. Her dad owns a perfume shop, and she wears a different scent every day! And none of them are pleasant-smelling, I should add."
"Well, I don't think Brenna's hair smells that bad," Aspen said, scratching his head. "I mean, as compared to Margareta's. "But anyway, have you seen your family in a while?" her boyfriend asked gently.
America made a face. "I called May today. It was horrible. She was so patronizing as usual. Goodness, that girl can be so bossy sometimes!"
Aspen laughed. "No, not her! I mean, your parents, Gerad, Kenna, and Kota. I know that you see your sister every day, silly!"
"Gerad, Mom, and Dad? No, not in a while at least. They have their own troubles, and they don't need their poor, unmarried daughter to be another one of them. As for Kenna, she has her own life. She and her husband are busy people. And Kota? Don't even get me started on him. He's still the same old greedy jerk."
"Same old ugly sculptures?"
America laughed. "Same old ugly sculptures," she confirmed. "But I honestly think they're just getting worse and worse."
"You know, they say that you are what you sculpt," Aspen said in a lighthearted tone. "I never really believed it until I met your excuse for a brother."
"They do not say that!" America giggled. Aspen always knew how to make her laugh when she was upset. God, he was so perfect.
Aspen smiled at the sound of his girlfriend's laughter. "Well, how's Uncle Tony doing with your auditions and stuff? Got any good ad campaigns that don't involve feet or rabid cats?"
"Nope, not really. Your uncle is still an absolute nut case."
"Why doesn't he audition you for musicals or try to get you on a record label anyway? Why doesn't he actually try to get you work in your preferred field?"
"Supposedly, acting in weird commercials will jumpstart my career," America said, running a hand through her red hair. "But whatever. He has good intentions. I can't quit – I don't want to hurt his feelings. And besides, I don't have any other free agents willing to take me on."
A buzzing noise was emitted from America's phone. She sighed, rummaging in her purse for the source of the noise. She pulled out her flip phone and pressed it into her ear. "Hello?"
Who is it? Aspen mouthed.
As soon as America heard the voice through her phone, she sighed. Speak of the devil, she mouthed back to Aspen.
"Murica, darling! I have the most wonderful news! You're not going to believe your ears!"
"Another foot commercial? Yay?" America asked.
"No, no, no… You're going to be on the next season of Celebrity Bachelor! It starts in a week, you must get packing! You're going to be on national television!" Tony exclaimed eagerly.
"WAIT, WHAT?" asked America. "Since when? Wait… hold up… I never auditioned for Celebrity Bachelor."
"Oh you did. Remember a few weeks back when I took you to a string of auditions? You most certainly auditioned."
"But… I thought that it was just some ridiculous set up. You can't be serious, Tony! Tell me that this is another one of your ridiculous shenanigans," America said. Aspen raised an eyebrow, silently asking her what had happened.
"It's not. And you should be at the office tomorrow, it's a big day! We have to get you all prepared and ready! It's going to be so exciting!"
"Tony! I have a boyfriend! That's absolutely ridiculous. I am not going to participate on that show!"
"Murica, darling," Tony said as if he was talking to a child. America could picture him toying with his handlebar mustache. "This is the opportunity of a lifetime. This is the chance to put you on national television. Maxon Schreave will be the Celebrity Bachelor too! You'll fall head over heels for him!"
"I'm already with Aspen, Tony," America protested. The world around her seemed to be spinning faster than she could register. She felt as if her breath was pulled out of her mouth, leaving her with nothing but her panicking thoughts screaming inside her head. "I can't do this. This is ridiculous! Tony, I -"
"This will start your career, America. I promised you that I would make you famous. I know what I'm doing." Then a little click sounded and the empty silence was filled with static. America shoved the phone back into her purse and laid back down, staring back at the sky.
"What did he say?" asked Aspen.
America took a deep breath. "I won an audition. For a big national show. With celebrities and stuff. Tony really wants me to go."
"That's great, Mer! This will start your career, and… I'm so happy for you!"
"Aspen… it's a spot on the Celebrity Bachelor. Tony signed me up ages ago and I had no idea that I would actually get picked. I thought it was all a clever joke. But it wasn't. And I can't go anyway," America said, reaching for Aspen's arm. "I already have you."
Aspen was silent. Finally, he pulled his arm back. "Mer… this is a really big chance for you. I don't want you to screw it up just for me. You deserve this."
America stared back at him, not believing the words that were flowing out of his mouth. "And you deserve the world. This isn't what I'm meant for. I'll get a bigger and better opportunity soon. And I'll still have you."
Aspen shook his head. "Mer… we'll talk tomorrow, okay? Let me drive you back home. We'll both have clearer thoughts then, okay?"
America sighed, heading back to Aspen's pick-up truck. Her world had just changed in a simple phone conversation. It felt like something had shattered, and that no amount of glue would fix it again. She had lost everything and gained something new in an instant. It was odd when you got something that you wanted and it felt like you had lost something instead. It felt way worse than she expected it to be. She wasn't sure whether to cry or celebrate.
AN: Thank you to XOStarbrightXO and dreams and desperation for reviewing! And thank you for reading all the way down to the author's note. Today's Selection Trivia Question is - Who are Margareta Stines and Brenna? Tell me in the reviews, and I'll follow and review some of your stories in return! :)