So get in the differential lane

Come dance with me

No need to be weary

No need to be leery

--From the song Differential Lane

Lyrics By: Orion Bauwens

"It's so nice to finally meet you, Ms. Dupree."

"Please, call me Jessica."

I let go of the woman's hand. We both sit, her behind a large wooden desk, me in the chair situated on the other side. She's wearing a grey suit, her blonde hair pulled back and held up with a black clip. Honestly she reminds me of Portia de Rossi.

"I'm Orion Bauwens."

"I know," she says with a kind smile.

I laugh. "Yeah, you would know, wouldn't you? Sorry, sometimes I forget I'm famous. Or maybe I don't want to think of myself as famous..."

Her sweet smile doesn't leave her lips.

"So, Mr. Bauwens--"

"You can call me Orion, too."

"Alright, Orion. What brings you to my office today?"

"Well, like we talked about over the phone, I'm trying to find out about my birth parents..."

We already discussed most of everything over the phone. We go over more details, and I tell her about the dead ends I ran into already. I also briefly mention that my adoptive parents are uncooperative, and while I'm not telling her how to do her job, I don't think exploring that avenue would be anything more than a waste of time.

"This might take awhile Orion," Jessica tells me honestly. "Sometimes these things do."

"Yes, of course," I tell her, rubbing my sweaty palms against my pants. "However long it takes--money is a non-issue. All I ask are some sort of results, eventually, even if you don't find anything."

She nods. "Do you live here in Michigan?"

I shake my head.

The soft smile returns. "Well, if you have somewhere else to be, you don't have to stay here. There's a chance that your birth parents aren't even in Michigan. That happens sometimes."

I can feel my eyes widen a bit. That thought never even occurred to me. As I think about the possibility of them not being in the state I grew up in, I reach into my jacket pocket. "Oh, er, by the way I brought you my birth certificate."

I could have easily emailed her a copy, but I didn't feel comfortable with that. That was the real reason I wanted to physically come into the office, so she could make a hard copy. As I hand it to her and she moves to make a photocopy, I continue.

"Um, Jessica. There was one more thing I'd like to discuss with you."

"Of course," she says, and a moment later hands me back my birth certificate. I notice the copy she's made has the words COPY all over it. "I'll shred this when I'm done, I assure you."

"About that..." I scratch the back of my neck. "It's not that I don't trust you, but I don't trust you."

She laughs and I smile awkwardly.

"What I mean by that is--"

"I know. You don't want anything leaking out to the press."

"Right. And that's why I picked you specifically. Your profile mentions that you've dealt with confidential clients before, which I assume means celebrities--"

"Yes, but also government officials and the like."

"Right. So I just wanted to ask you in person if you could please, please have all of this stay between us."

"I'll do you one better," Jessica says with a smile. "I'll have my lawyer draw up a non-disclosure document, have it notarized, and I can have it sent to your lawyer. How does that sound?"

I'm floored. Why didn't I think of that? In fact, if I had Gloria speak with my lawyer they probably would've thought of that. But I'm so paranoid about any of this getting leaked to the press that I wanted to leave Gloria and my lawyer out of this. The less people who know what I'm doing the better.

"Thanks!"

"Orion," she says seriously now. She clasps her hands and leans forward on her desk. "Now there's something I wanted to discuss with you."

"Yeah, of course. Anything."

"I'm not saying this will happen, but I have to give you a warning. How much have you thought about all this? Really thought about this?"

I'm surprisingly not angry when I reply. If anything, I'm desperate. "Years. Years and years and years."

"Have you thought about all avenues? All outcomes?" she asks plaintively.

"Yeah. I've thought about if they're terrible, if they're dead, if they want nothing to do with me."

"Have you thought about if they find out who you are and they use that to their advantage?"

My blood runs cold and I shiver. Honestly, no, I hadn't thought of that. "W-what do you mean?"

"Orion," she says gently, "I've had clients before of wealthy stature who find their birth parents and the parents become extremely manipulative, that they reconnect with the child only as a means to and end--a very specific, financial end." She shakes her head. "It's disgusting, and I'm not saying it will happen, and I'm hoping it won't happen, but I have to let you know, just as one human being to another."

I'm touched.

"Orion--once you do this it can't be undone. Once I do this, they might use you as a crutch. It could get very, very messy Orion, both emotionally and financially. You might have to get the law involved--I've seen relationships utterly implode, restraining orders dolled out."

She leans forward and I see absolutely nothing but deep compassion in her eyes. "Orion--are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," I say immediately. "I have to know."

She smiles with a bit of sadness to the look. "Alright, let me see what I can do."

~

"Lets go to a club."

Tristan is laying down with his head in my lap as I play a video game. He looks up at me.

"What?"

I shut off the game, tossing the controller on the cushion besides me.

"I said lets go to a club."

We're back in Vermont and have been for a week. Life has been pretty monotonous, though I'm far from complaining. Tristan has been staying with me. 

I never thought I'd fall into cohabitation with a significant other so easily, but it's been absolutely seamless. I had always been afraid--if I ever found someone I gave a damn enough to live with, that is-- that we'd get on each other's nerves. Especially if it was a girl...I braced myself for fights about makeup, and hair products, and God knows what else, strewn about everywhere.

But Tristan has been nothing short of respectful. I've shown him where everything goes and he's adhered to that. I hope his behavior sticks, that he's not just being polite because he still feels like my guest. I fear that once he gets comfortable, his true messy side will come out.

But we'll see. He's worth it.

Tristan sits up. "What sort of club?"

"A dance club."

His eyes go wide. "You go to those?"

"Yeah," I say, standing up with a grin. "And I feel like dancing now."

I hold out my hand to him. Chuckling, he shakes his head and takes my hand. "Sure. I gotta see this."

The club we go to is my favorite because I haven't been recognized. Even so, I always keep my hood up until I get inside. We wait in line just like everyone else, we show our I.D.'s at the door just like everyone else, and we pay just like everyone else. I love the normalcy of it.

Once inside, I slip off my hood, grab Tristan's hand, and go to the dance floor immediately.

"You're joking, right?" he asks me in utter disbelief.

Instead of answering I spin him around so he's facing me, put my hands on his hips, and begin dancing to the music. Bruno Mars, Lady Gaga, The Weekend, Ke$ha, Justin Timberlake, Drake, Justin Bieber. I love it all, I dance my ass off. I know all of the lyrics and sing along as I dance, even imitating the auto-tuned voices expertly.

"Oh my God," Tristan says, laughing damn near hysterically. "Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine anything like this!"

"What?" I shout at him over the music. "Why is this so surprising to you?"

"Mr., I-Dress-All-In-Black-And-Sing-Some-Of-The-Angriest-And-Saddest-Lyrics-Ever."

I throw my head back, cackling. "What? I can't have a fun side?"

"You can, it's just--really unexpected."

I wrap his arms around me, spinning around so my back is against his chest, and grind against him as I dance. He leans over, kissing my ear and muttering into it.

"Jesus, Orion..."

I look over my shoulder and grin, continuing to drive him crazy. After a few minutes of this, Tristan nips my ear and huskily speaks. "I don't think taking you in a bathroom stall would qualify as the romantic idea you have for our first time..."

The thought of that makes my pants tight.

"I'd stop if I were you..."

So I do. Laughing, I grab him by the wrist and drag him over to the bar. It's a long white counter situated atop glass blocks, the underside lit up with blue lights. The wall behind it is glass, also alight with blue, bottles upon bottles of liquor stacked high. Two people man the counter. Besides the frenetic lights of the club, this bar is the only source of light in the entire joint.

"What'dyawant?" I ask him, pulling out my wallet.

"You don't have to pay for me," he grumbles.

"What?" I only half-heard him.

"I said you don't have to pay for me," he says over the music.

I give him a look and wave at him dismissively. After a moment the bartender turns around; we're next.

"Hi," I say, looking down at my wallet as I speak. "I'll have a water and--"

Tristan cuts me off by painfully jabbing his elbow into my ribs. I shoot a glare at him, but he nods his head to the bartender. Confused, I look across the bar.

The bartender looks probably just old enough to work the bar. Tears are streaming down her face.

Oh, shit.

"Uh..."

"O-Orion Bauwens?"

Oh, fuck. "Yeah?"

She quickly wipes her face, though it doesn't really help much. "I'm so sorry, I'm sure you're here to have a good time, but I was wondering if we could talk? There's something I've always wanted to tell you. Please?"

The desperation in her voice isn't like most fans. She isn't starstruck. For the briefest moment I hesitate because I'm worried she's some sort of stalker. But then again Tristan is here with me, so even if shit got weird he'd be here to help. Plus...there's something in her voice and face that tells me I need to do this.

"Yeah, of course," I say gently.

She nods and turns around to the other man she's working with. He nods vigorously and she comes out from around the bar.

"Follow me," she says, and Tristan and I comply.

She leads us to the back of the club where only employees are allowed. We trace her steps further back until we hit a door. She pushes it open, walking us out of the building.

Immediately she takes out a pack of cigarettes. I take out my own, politely lighting hers for her. Truthfully I doubt she'd have been able to do it with how badly she was shaking.

"T-thanks."

"Of course. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I-I mean no." She wipes away more tears. "I'm really sorry about this, but I just wanted to talk, and I'm sorry if this is way out of line, but I would really appreciate it if you listened."

"Yeah," I tell her gently.

She takes a long drag. "Um, so, my life has been really fucked up. It's been an absolute train wreck. And I'm sure you get this a lot, but seriously, your music speaks to me."

To my slight alarm she leans against the wall and slumps down until she's sitting. So I sit down next to her. My full attention is on her, and her only. She's smaller than me, very curvy, wearing an over-sized t-shirt and jeans paired with sneakers. As she speaks, she tucks some of her long, straight dyed blonde hair behind her heavily pierced ear. 

"I can relate to what you say so much. My childhood was fucked, my dad used to get drunk and beat up my mom. And then my adult life hasn't been much better." She looks at me then with her red-rimmed eyes. "And you're the only one who keeps me grounded, and I swear to you your music is the only reason I haven't killed myself. I've tried, but it didn't work."

My eyes widen.

"Just--just knowing there's someone else out there who feels and thinks the same things I do...Just knowing that I'm not alone in this mess...It's seriously the only thing that keeps me going, Orion. And--and I'm sorry if all this is creepy but I just--I always told myself if I ever had the opportunity to talk to you, I'd tell you this."

She forces a smile through her tears. "And I wanted to let you know you're not alone, too. I need you to know that your music is so meaningful, and all your hard work isn't for nothing, okay?"

I don't know what comes over me but I pull her into a hug. She gasps, and then cries into my shoulder, clinging to me for dear life. I rub her back. When we're done hugging, I smile at her.

"Thank you," I tell her.

She looks speechless for a second. Then she speaks. "No, thank you!"

She's shivering, though I'm not sure if it's from emotion or because she's cold. So just in case, I unzip my hoodie and drape it over her shoulders. She looks at me stunned, and I grin.

"Keep it."

"Orion--no--I--I couldn't--"

"Yes, you can. Promise."

She smiles and pulls it tightly around herself. It's then she notices my arms. Knowing I was going to be dancing, I had worn a short sleeved black shirt.

Instead of being ashamed, I hold up my arms with weird scars for her to see. She blinks and then looks me in the face. I put them down but continue to smile softly at her.

I get to my feet and help her to hers. She looks up at me and I jam my hands into my pockets, pressing the insides of my arms against my body.

"Thank you for talking," I tell her.

"You too." She looks down at the hoodie. "Are you sure I can keep this?"

"I have a ton, it doesn't matter."

She smiles.

"It was nice meeting you."

She laughs. "What? Oh my God, it was nice meeting you! It's been one of my dreams, and I can't believe it happened here at work, of all places."

I lean forward, giving her a mischievous look. "Our little secret?"

She beams. "Of course!"

"Have a good night. Hang in there, okay? It'll get better."

She blinks, her lips parting slightly. "T-thanks. You too, Orion."

"C'mon," I say to Tristan, nodding my head down the alley. "I don't want to go through the club, we'll go around."

We walk back to my car in silence. Once we're buckled and I start the car, Tristan turns to me.

"Why did you show her your arms? That was risky."

I shake my head, backing out of the parking spot. "She's not going to say anything to the press or anything on social media."

"How do you know that?"

I look at him. "Because I know."

He tilts his head to the side. "Do you get that a lot?"

"Sometimes. Not very often, but yeah."

"That's really special."

I shrug. "Talking to people on a real level like that reminds me of why I put up with the bullshit that comes along with being famous."

"Hey."

I look at him and he smiles fondly. "Tonight just solidified why you're worth it, and you should know that."

I can't help it--I smile.

Author's Note: The video clip is just too perfect of a song for this chapter. Feel free to imagine Orion and Tristan dancing to it. :p It just shuffled on my playlist, and it clicked in my head...