[Aidan's marriage has been shattered by his wife's cheating. Unable to cope with the thing she did, he boarded a plane and put as much distance between them as possible. He finds himself in Australia, making new friends in Sydney, including a pair of mates on a road trip around their vast, empty continent. He's also met Kat, sharing her bed, the first time in many years that he's been with a woman who isn't his wife. Now, he's working for Mara Fey, the Hollywood A-Lister and one of the most famous women on the planet. Meanwhile, Rosa had cut off all contact with him, leaving Aidan more lonely than ever.
The background to Aidan's story can be found in
Oxygen Games
by oneagainst, continued here with permission.]
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METHOD ACTING
The trees pass like ghosts as they drive. Light filters into the sky behind them but up ahead it's still dark. Aidan has the music down to a whisper as Mara sleeps, curled up in the reclined passenger seat, wrapped in her jacket. Aidan finds himself stealing glances over at her every once in a while. Asleep, her face is warmer, her pretty lips are full and soft, devoid of the influence of the mercurial mind behind the façade.
He took over just after midnight and has been driving ever since, working in shifts with Mara. She's desperate to get somewhere, but he doesn't know where they're going to. Neither, he suspects, does she. Instead, they're both preoccupied with how fast they are moving away from where they were, leaving the nameless something behind them.
The washed-out light of pre-dawn renders the landscape they're passing through in neutral shades, the red earth and the smooth bleached-blonde trunks of the trees reduced to monochrome. They crest a low hill and on the near horizon, up against the sky, there is a solitary eucalyptus on the ridge, flaming in the rich golds and yellows of the rising sun. Carefully, Aidan slows down and pulls off the road.
Mara stirs, gradually untangling herself from the coat covering her. She looks up at him blearily, her blonde hair in disarray. Her gaze locks onto him and she blinks the sleep from her blue eyes.
"Sorry," she grumbles, "Morning face."
"You look fine," Aidan replies.
Mara screws her face up. "No, I don't. No-one should have to see this."
Mara sits, wiping her palms across her cheeks and then tucks strands of loose hair behind her ears. She looks through the car window at the landscape and straightens herself up.
"Oh, wow," she gasps.
"Yeah."
"It's all changed."
Aidan follows her gaze to the ridge line and the solitary tree. The dawn has crept down the trunk to the ground and everywhere they look, the crests of the hills are kindled with the sun's first light. Aidan gets out of the car and goes around to the front, leaning back and taking in the view. The air is crisp. He hears a door open and Mara joints him, pulling on her jacket against the dawn chill.
"There's nothing for miles and miles, all the way to the horizon," she murmurs.
"Remind you of home?"
"Kinda. Kansas looks so different. But there's the same feeling," Mara replies, "The space. The endless sky."
The car is warm to sit on, and they watch the landscape slowly coming to life in the stillness. Gradually, the colours seep into the trees and the rocks and the land again, painted fresh by the new day's light.
"Where are we?" Mara asks.
"About half an hour from Broken Hill, according to the map."
"Where?"
Aidan shrugs. "Never been, never seen."
Mara contemplates the view, then stands.
"It's a town, right?"
"Yeah."
"Towns have coffee."
"I guess."
"You need to get me to coffee, Aidan. Don't let me down."
Mara turns and pecks him on the cheek. She's smiling playfully, like a kid. Aidan can't help but smile back. They get into the car and pull back onto the road.
The country undulates gently, sometimes exposing wide views but mostly giving them a confined horizon of red earth and bushland. The first house is a startling contrast, and soon they're driving down a suburban street with single-storey wooden homes on either side. A little further, and the dwellings give way to a steady procession of pubs and shops with wide, corrugated iron-roofed verandahs shading the street.
"I guess this is where it all happens," Mara observes, then points excitedly, "There. They're open. Pull over."
Aidan stops the car in front of a coffee shop. A girl is setting out a table in the front, though it's early still and there's no-one around. Mara twists her hair up into a loose bun with practiced ease and pulls up the hood of her jacket.
"You're going in there?" Aidan asks.
"Yeah."
"Aren't you worried?"
"About what?"
Aidan frowns. "About being seen," he says.
Mara grins. "Trust me," she says and gets out.
Aidan follows her into the coffee shop, but he finds himself scanning for people, like they're fugitives. There's a closed-circuit camera mounted on the wall behind the till and two customers at a table inside, both with phones out. The girl is behind the counter, setting out croissants in the display case next to the till. She looks up as Mara approaches.
"G'day," Mara says in an Australian accent, "Flat white please."
She turns to Aidan, who is struggling to contain an astonished look. "What d'you want?" she asks.
"Uh, same," Aidan blurts.
"No worries," Mara replies, then turns back to the girl, "And can ya chuck in a couple of croissants too? Cheers."
The girl nods. "Take a seat, I'll bring them over," she replies.
Mara pays and they take the table outside on the street. She sits down and pulls out the other chair for Aidan.
"Sit down," she says, still in the accent, "Take a load off."
Aidan complies. Mara's grinning at him.
"You're not concerned?" he asks.
"About what?"
"Getting spotted."
She gives him a sly wink. "What would Hollywood star Mara Fey from America be doing in this town in this coffee shop at six in the morning?" she says, "It's much more likely that I just look a lot like her."
"You can drop the accent now, it's just us."
"Nah, mate. Secret it to commit to the role. I'm a method actor, remember. How do I sound?"
"Different. Where'd you learn it?"
Mara shrugs. "Dunno. It's something I can just do. The secret though, the thing that screws most people up, isn't the accent, it's the dialogue. You have to listen to how people talk, the words they use. Mate, not dude, and then the thing where they shorten words, you noticed that?"
"No."
"Fuck, mate. You're real shit at this. Best leave the talking to me."
The girl arrives with their coffees and croissants. Mara flashes her a smile. The girl hesitates for just a moment, but then turns and goes back inside.
"Eat up," Mara says, "Then we need somewhere to get a shower and then get our heads down, I'm buggered from all the driving."
"Really, you can drop the accent now."
"Then I was thinking we have a look around the place in the arvo."
"Mara, what the fuck is an arvo?"
Mara grins at him and pulls her croissant apart. She stuffs a piece into her mouth.
"We're gonna have fun today," she says.
