I kicked my feet up, resting the soles of my shoes on the edge of the console. In front of me was six feet of thick, sound proof glass surrounding the recording booth. On the others side of the glass, a wiry haired, young man with a hipster beard was seated on a stool, plucking out the melody to a song in preparation for recording it.

"So finish your story," said Randy, the sound engineer. He angled back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. "You saw her again at the park and... then what? You took her behind a tree and had your way with her?"

"Not even close. So she invites me to her place, right? It's right off of the park-"

"Fuck, you move fast!"

"One second I'm on the trail, the next thing I know I'm on my ass. Her dog saw me, thought I wanted to play, jumped me-"

"Jumped you?"

"You should see the paws on this thing. He's a huge animal, but he's still a puppy, you know? They don't know their own strength. So there I am, covered in mud.  She says to follow her to her place, she'll take care of me. We get to her place, she washes out my shirt and socks, lays them out in the sun to dry."

"Very domestic, very casual Saturday."

"Right. So, I'm hanging out by the pool. We're having a beer, we're petting the dog, we're having a conversation... it's a nice moment, right?"

Randy chortled, rolling his eyes. "Something tells me this doesn't end like you wanted it to end."

"Like I said, it wasn't like that. But get this... she's flirting. Hard. At least I think she is. Enough to ask her out. Then she gets all... weird."

"Weird? Weird, how?"

"Weird like... it's not you, it's me. I don't date celebrities. I had some trouble in the past, that's why my dog is the size of small horse." I shrugged, lifting my hands in an I don't know gesture. "Look, I know there are women out there like that, that don't date celebrities. I just don't think I've ever actually met one."

"Or one that would turn you down. Maybe they don't date B celebs but they'd think twice if Levine asked them out."

"For sure. Anything can be bought... you just have to name the right price."

"So you think she's serious about that? Or she's using it as some kind of cover for something else? Maybe a boyfriend she just remembered she had?"

"I don't think there's a boyfriend. I touched her arm and she acted like my hands were acid. I don't know.... I didn't really stick around to find out. Maybe she wanted me to beg or to find out what her price was, but I didn't. I grabbed my stuff and left."

Randy laughed. "So you picked up your toys and left the sandbox."

"Well, no... not-"

"How often do you hear no in your life? Not used to it, are you?"

"Man, it's not that at all. I hear no all the time..."

"Not from women, you don't. I've seen you out. You have to peel them off of you, practically. I'm just saying, you seem a little hurt that she wasn't interested in hoppin' on that."

"I don't know about hurt. I don't understand the mixed signals. Why flirt if you don't want it to go anywhere. You know?"

"Hey, guys. I think I'm ready." The kid hoisted his acoustic guitar to his lap and adjusted the microphone.

I sat up, dropping my feet to the floor and moving myself to be ready to adjust levels as needed. With one finger hovering over the record button, I held up three fingers on the other hand and counted down: three, two, one.

>>||<<

My session had ended but hours later, Randy and I were still at the studio, shooting the shit. My cell phone buzzed against the wood grain of the console. I grabbed it to see if the call was important. These days, not a lot of them were. HackerAlex, read the display.

Shit. I'd forgotten I'd asked Alex to dig up dirt on Lena. A lot of good it would do me now. "Lemme take this," I said to Randy, who nodded and pushed himself up from the chair. 

"I gotta get going anyway. My old lady wants to go see Ghostbusters. See you later." I gave him a fist bump and picked up the call from Alex.

"Hey. Whatcha got?"

"What do you have for me, first of all?"

"Uhhh..." I wracked my brain for something I could get for him. The last job he'd done for me netted him Blues Travelers tickets. "Best I can do right now is advanced screening tickets to my movie."

Alex grunted. "Let's just put it on your tab. Something comes up that I'm interested in, you're my first call. Deal?"

"Fine. I already blew it with this girl, so it's not like I can put your info to good use anyway."

"How have you already blown it with a woman you don't know? How do you do that? How does a guy... you, namely... do that?"

"I don't even..."  I kicked my feet back up on the console, deciding to not even get into it. "What do you have for me?"

"Okay. Well. I had to dig really deep but about eight years ago, she was pretty wide open about her life. A defunct Myspace page is out there. Some pics of her and friends from about ten years ago. Something must have happened between then and now, because except for work, Lena Sandoval disappeared. She grew up in Chula Vista. Normal background-parents are still married, two siblings; she's the oldest. Went to school at UCLA. Did an internship with William Morris, then moved on to a private agency, where she was publicist for some big names you might know- LaReina Childs, Dominick Martin, Rex Luther-"

"Wait, she repped Rex Luther?"

The first two I recognized as a model and an NFL Quarterback. Both had moderately successful careers and were household names in the sense that people, in general, knew who they were. They weren't superstars.

Not like Rex. Rex, the music industry's current darling, was in another orbit. So famous he couldn't leave his house without security guards- we called it the Black Cloud, back in the day. The higher the number of large men dressed in black that had to accompany you to Whole Foods, the bigger your star was. And the bigger your ego was.

Rex's ego was legendary, down to his stage name, which was a play off of Lex Luthor, the Superman villain. He dressed in black leather and thick boots, even in the summer. He dyed his hair black, wore thick black liner around his eyes and, on occasion, black lipstick. He was like a baby, pop version of Marilyn Manson.

"Yeah, she repped Rex for about five years. Put together his whole story, so to speak. How he's this hard rock guy from a small town in upstate New York, got a record deal when one of Iovine's boys heard him sing. Been pounding it out in LA ever since."

"I'm taking bets on how much of that story is true."

"Whatever the truth is, she was pretty good at hiding it, hyping up the press approved story and keeping him out of trouble. Mostly."

"So what happened? How do you go from Rex Luther and NFL players and models to... hair products?"

"Well, I'm surprised... but then again not surprised that people don't know about this huge fight she and Rex had in front of the Ivy one night. There was some chatter and a video, which was posted on a gossip site, but then somehow disappeared, along with any mention of the story. I, however, have good contacts and magic fingers, so I got a copy of it. I'll shoot it to you. It was nasty."

"I'm not surprised at any of it. Rex seems like the type to bitch out his publicist in front of people."

"It was way more than bitching her out."

"Okay. What else?"

"Well, after that incident, she pretty much disappeared. There was a brief statement on the agency website where she'd worked that she was moving on to a different opportunity. A year or so later, she popped up at Sexy Hair."

"You're not telling me anything good, Alex. I'm supposed to get you swag for this?"

"I don't know what you want me to say, man. She's an enigma. If she dates, she doesn't date famous. She doesn't have famous friends. She doesn't do social media- no Facebook, no Instagram, no twitter accounts under her name or anywhere in the vicinity. It's like the Internet was wiped clean of any mention of her."

I mused, chewing on my bottom lip, intrigued about Lena Sandoval. "At least the Crazy Starfucker check came back clean, right?"

"At least. Sorry I couldn't do more for you. I'll send you that video though. It's worth a view."

"Alright. Thanks man. I appreciate you sharing what you did dig up." I pressed the end button on my phone and slipped it into my pocket.

What had happened in Lena's life that took her underground?  Was it something I even wanted to know about? And even if I knew what it was... would it even matter?

She wanted nothing to do with me.