Page 1 of The Hookup Situation

ONE

JACKSON

Shit, I can’t believe it. I got the part! I’m so fucking giddy about playing the lead role inThe Rocky Horror Picture Showthat I’m grinning the entire way to my next class. I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for the last couple of days waiting to see what part I got, if any, and I’ve wanted to play Dr. Frank-N-Furter since I was thirteen.

I send a text to my BFFs, Rory and Lucy, in our group chat. They know how much I’ve wanted this role, and they both helped me get ready for the audition.

Me: Gif of Frank-N-Furter. I got it!!!

Lucy: Omg!!!! Yes!!!

Rory: I knew you would nail it!

Lucy: We’re celebrating. My place. 7pm.

Me: See you then. Smiley face emoji

I still have a few minutes to spare before my Early Theater Historyclass starts, so I decide to make a phone call. It’s an hour earlier in California but I’m sure my parents are awake. They both get up at the ass crack of dawn for work.

This isn’t my first theater production. Far from it. I’ve been acting on stage since middle school. But this is by far the part that means the most to me.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom, it’s me.”

“Oh, hey, honey.” There’s voices in the background and I assume she’s somewhere with a client. There’s rarely a time when she isn’t. As one of the top wedding planners in San Francisco she’s always on the go. “No, don’t put that there.”

“Mom?”

“Yeah, hey, Jackson, is everything okay?” she says, though I can tell she’s distracted. She always is. I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation with her where I actually had her full attention. I want to say I’m used to it, and that it doesn’t bother me, but I would be lying. I keep holding out hope that one day she’ll see me, and maybe that’s why I keep making these phone calls, and going home for breaks, even though I always wind up alone and disappointed.

“Yeah, Mom, I just wanted to tell you I got the part.” More voices in the background and what sounds like a door slamming shut.

“Oh, Christ, no. We need that table over there. Where are the centerpieces?”

“Great news, honey,” she murmurs, and I am pretty sure she didn’t even hear what I said, the words sounding like more of an afterthought than anything else.

I sigh. “Yeah, thanks, Mom.”

“Listen, Jax, it’s crazy here. I should go. I’ll talk to you soon.”

She ends the call and I shove my phone back in my pocket, my cheerful mood dampened. I don’t know what I was expecting because nothing ever changes. Nothing has changed since I was a kid. She and Dad have always been workaholics. I spent a lot of time home alone growing up since I didn’t have any siblingsand all of our family lived far away. That’s where my love of theater started. I would make my own plays, and use my stuffed animals as characters or audience members, just so I could feel like someone was paying attention to me, that someone cared. I would dress up and make believe I was on some far away adventure. I spent countless hours in my room, singing, dancing, and creating.

My parents have always had money, so I never lacked for anything as a child. It didn’t take me long to realize that all the gifts they lavished on me were their way of trying to buy my affection or make up for not being around. Everyone thought I was the luckiest kid because I had a huge house with a giant bedroom, a pool, an outdoor movie theater setup in my backyard, and my own car as soon as I turned sixteen. I got name brand clothes and hundred dollar haircuts. I had everything, except the one thing I wanted, which was my parents' time and attention.

The kids at school loved coming over to my house because my parents were never there. They would tell me how cool it was that I got to be on my own so much and do whatever I wanted. But I would have given anything to just have Mom or Dad ask me about my day at school and actually listen when I told them. I would have loved for them to take me camping, or to a movie, or play a game with them some evening instead of spending all my time alone. Hell, I would have been elated if they had shown up to any of my performances. I think they made it to one or two shows and both times they stepped out early due to work.

Things got a little better once I got to middle school and made some friends, and had more people to hang out with, and other places to spend my time. I wasn’t so lonely. But I never really felt like I belonged, and I would have loved to have parents who cared where I was and when I got home.

I of course always acted like having them gone was so cool, while inside I kept wondering why they even bothered having a kid if they weren’t going to get to know him. Telling them I wished we had more time together didn’t go over well either. I learned that at a young age.“You can’t be selfish Jackson. Our clients need us. And how can we afford to give you all these nice things if we don’t work hard and take our jobs seriously?” I had made the mistake once of saying I didn’t need all the expensive stuff, I just wanted them. They accused me of being ungrateful and not appreciating everything they did for me.

I feel like I’ve been silently screaming for them to see me my entire life, and it’s fucking exhausting.

After my last class I change and go for a run. Exercise and sex are my go to stress relievers, and sex isn’t an option right now, unfortunately. It’s September in Colorado and it’s not long before I’m sweating through my tank top and my legs and chest ache.

It’s the good kind of ache though, and I feel better afterwards as I shower and dress to head to Lucy’s place.

I change into my black jeans and a black mesh shirt. My raven colored hair is styled to perfection because I can’t bring myself to do any less. I’ve always cared a fair amount about my appearance. And I definitely have my own style. I know I’ve drawn some attention with the way I dress and the amount of accessories I wear, but it’s me, and it’s what makes me feel comfortable in my own skin.

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