Aya's Grand Escape

In the end, I suppose it was too much.

I've never been able to take my eyes off of her. She's brilliant, vibrant, funny... and of course, talented as well. It was always a treat when she would perform on stage, or make some joke that no one else would think of.

She noticed me looking. It wasn't *that* hard to notice me looking; I'd been doing it for years. She'd caught me staring at her breasts or hips in her costume, or the way her smile lit up the room. That was the problem, really - it caused a bit of a stir when we started acting together, but that didn't bother us. We were great friends and colleagues, and got along just fine. It seemed like nothing could tear us apart... until now.

We were both in our dressing rooms getting ready for our next show when she came in with a bottle in hand. She grinned and threw herself down on my couch, "Hey there!" she chirped happily as she unscrewed the top and took a swig from the bottle.

She giggled a little as she passed it over to me, "Are you ready?"

I laughed softly as I took a drink myself before giving back the bottle, "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Ahhhh..." She stretched out and got a dreamy look on her face as she looked up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above us "You know what? Screw it! We don't need to do this anymore!"

I looked over at her curiously as she sat up with wide eyes and pointed at me excitedly, "Yup! I quit!"

. . . . . . . . . . .

The silence felt heavy between us as we stared at each other. Her initial excitement had faded away quickly into serious consideration of my gaze; finally she shrugged and stood up from the couch with another shrug. We started walking out of the building towards our cars together while our crew cleaned up behind us without saying anything more about it. The tension was gone, but something still felt wrong somehow; I couldn't quite place my finger on what exactly. We drove home in separate cars in silence; she went straight inside while I made myself some dinner alone in my kitchen while thinking over what had happened earlier that evening. We needed to talk about this sooner or later... but now that it was later instead of sooner, *how* should we go about it? What do you say to your best friend who has decided to quit their job?

That night I lay awake in bed listening to her moving around upstairs. She hadn't come down for dinner at all after getting home, so I figured she must have gone to bed early since we had an early show today anyway. I couldn't help but stare at my alarm clock as 1 AM turned into 2 AM; eventually I couldn't take it anymore and rolled out of bed with a sigh before heading up the stairs towards her bedroom door quietly so that I wouldn't wake anyone else up if they were sleeping already. Slowly pushing open her door gently so that it didn't creak too loudly against its hinges, I poked my head inside only to find her lying facing away from me on her bed; obviously deep asleep judging by how still she was laying there. She must have been exhausted if she fell asleep before 2 AM - usually she stayed up until 4 or 5 AM depending on how tired we all were after a long show like last night's... but now here she was blinking at me sleepily through bleary eyes while rubbing them away with one arm before sitting bolt upright beside me on her bed when she recognized my silhouette standing there in front of her dresser mirror where I'd apparently been standing watching her sleep peacefully before being startled awake by my presence standing over her like some kind of ghost from beyond the grave!