The Secret Side of Us

By Brienne Dubh

When a naive young Lexi leaves everything she knows behind, she suddenly finds herself caught between two men. A charming American and a mischievous Italian. Told from the perspective of various characters, this story follows the highs and lows of a vulnerable young woman trying to stick up for herself and follow her heart in a tough, hot city. Will she follow her heart to Mr wrong or her head to Mr Right?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brienne Dubh
• Release date: Feb 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311280831

Brienne Dubh

I come from a performing background with over 10 years acting experience. I have worked as a Producer working on various film projects before going on to set up my own production company. With experience of both production and post –production processes, I am a trained Editor and have also written and produced several short films scripts. In 2010 took a step back from producing realising that my passion was for writing. I now spend my my days looking after a crazy toddler and coming up with imaginative stories where you can escape everyday life. Originally from England, after a few years of travelling the world I moved to Ireland where I currently live with my partner, young daughter and pet rabbit.

Book preview

Chapter One

It was a long flight from London back to L.A. but if I’m being honest, I could have stayed in the air for at least another twelve hours. In truth, I needed the time to think as it had been a few days since I’d really been on my own, what with all the family farewell dinners and goodbye drinks.

I was looking forward to going back to L.A., getting back into a routine, seeing my friends, driving my car and even going back to work but I still couldn’t help but wonder if I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life. Up until four months ago I was engaged to an amazing guy who I’d been with for five years.

At the start of February, I was offered a promotion which was the best news I’d had in a crappy six months. I’d worked my butt off and I was glad that I was finally being appreciated and getting some recognition for all the hours I’d put in. But there was a catch (wasn’t there always?): the promotion meant a permanent transfer. I’d actually been headhunted by a producer from our main office in L.A., which is where I’d been working on-and-off since late last year, finishing off projects and tying up loose ends. I never thought that my temporary post at our main office could become permanent.

I never dreamed that, when faced with the ultimatum Steve had thrown down, I would choose moving to America on my own instead of setting a date for the wedding and planning kids. Was I being selfish? Possibly. Did I still love him? Maybe. Was I scared shitless? Definitely! Had I made a terrible mistake? Probably. Whether it was the right decision or not when it came down to it, I chose me over us. I sold my half of the flat back to Steve—not that that was a lot!—and kept on the apartment I had been renting in L.A. The last six weeks were spent saying goodbye to my old life, old friends and leaving everything that was comfortable and familiar to me behind.

I stepped off the plane at LAX airport at seven thirty on a Thursday evening in June. Immigration was a barrel of laughs, with officers like Roman Gladiators peering down at me suspiciously as I entered their domain. Although I had to be grateful I wasn’t landing in New York. The last time I was there, the officers almost convinced me that I was carrying a concealed weapon of some sort, with their tough line of questioning. Not that I blamed them, as I knew they were only doing their job, but why didn’t they realise I was not nervous because I was carrying anything dangerous. I just looked like shit because I’d been in a confined space for twelve hours with a screaming kid on one side and on old man with an annoying case of nervous flatulence on the other!

After retrieving my many bags from the carousel and pushing my way through the crowd of tourists, made it outside the airport doors and took my first steps towards my new life in America. The sky was a strange mixture of orange, pink and grey and the breeze was hot and sticky. I took a deep breath and, as I inhaled that unmistakeable aroma of smog, I knew I was home. I looked down the vast line of waiting yellow taxis and caught sight of Jodie leaning against a classic black Mustang .

*

Jodie was the first person I’d met when I arrived in L.A. the first time round. I met her in a place called the Rebel Bar. I’d arrived on a Friday evening after I’d exited immigration in my usual post flight dishevelled state and, although I was excited about being back, I was sweaty, smelly and sick of my awkward and heavy bags.

I’d gotten a taxi to the apartment my company had arranged for me to use during my stay and it was about a thirty minute drive door-to-door. I opened the front entrance to a beautiful, two-bedroom place, just off Franklin and Highland in Hollywood. It was in a gated block of about twenty apartments, with a small garden and fairy lights highlighting the perfectly pruned bushes at the front. There was a huge pool surrounded by sun loungers at the back. After I had had the longest and hottest shower imaginable, I was feeling much happier and a lot more human, at which point it was time to go on a wander in my new neighbourhood.

As I walked along the famous Hollywood Boulevard, I felt like a child rushing downstairs to see what presents awaited me on Christmas morning. I was so excited and there were so many things to look at: restaurants and boutique shops, Lotuses and Bentleys driving up and down, hookers propositioning young men, the famous street signs of Hollywood and Sunset Boulevard—not to mention the astonishing fashion sense of the locals.

The roads were much wider than the cobbled streets where I grew up and it was a little overwhelming being there. I’d seen Hollywood Boulevard in many films and, although it felt very different to where I grew up, it was also very familiar in a strange way. After a while, I needed a drink. I was walking down to the corner of Hollywood and Vine when a bizarre looking building caught my eye. At the front there was an archway that looked like the front of a railway tunnel, but it was painted black and red with a big flashing neon light above the door that said The Rebel Bar.

I walked in and saw that the black and red theme was continued inside too. It was a long wide bar which curved to the left at the very end. Beyond that, there was a pool table and double doors that led out to the seated smoking area. On the right side of the bar were a number of booths with black leather seats and red lamps to light each table. Along the left side was a long bar. Photos of famous rebels throughout history hung on the back walls. There was a large blond, shaggy-haired barman on the other side of the bar and there, leaning in and chatting him up, was Jodie.

I’m not one of the stunning girls who get everything they want with a bat of my eyelids. But Jodie is. She was just a little taller than me, which wasn’t hard as I’m only 5’3, but we have a medium build in common. She had curves in the right place and she obviously spent a lot of time in the gym keeping them there. With her amazing body, olive skin, shoulder length dark brown hair and piercing eyes, it was easy to see why she had the barman’s full attention. I’d ordered a Jack and Coke from the barman who in turn asked me for ID, which I did not find offensive as any woman over age always likes to be asked, but unfortunately I did not have any with me. At twenty-seven, I don’t really expect to get asked for ID anymore and I didn’t carry any when I was in England. Jodie looked over at me and gave me an impish smile. She slowly leaned in closer to the barman and said, You don’t need to see her ID."

I don’t know why but I couldn’t resist the urge so I turned to the barman with a wave of my hand and in a silly voice said, These aren’t the droids you’re looking for. He gave me a wide- eyed stare while Jodie raised an eyebrow before the three of us burst into laughter. Jodie then told him I was her old friend in town for a visit. Thankfully the barman was a Star Wars fan and it helped that he also obviously wanted to get into her panties and so I got served.

That night we got talking, we got drinking, we went partying and we got into a crazy amount of trouble and we have been friends ever since. Jodie became my flatmate shortly after that as she was looking for somewhere to live and I had a spare room

*

There’s my Twinkie whore, Jodie shouted. Come give momma some sugar!

A few of the taxi drivers turned to see who was shouting.

How’s my favourite bitch? Looking good as always I see, I replied just as loud before giving her a hug. Jodie was born in Chicago but her father was an army man so she spent most of her life moving around different towns, cities and countries. It’s hard to guess where she’s from.

Jodie looked amazing! She was wearing black and gold sandals that had a small heel, black fitted jeans with a gold belt, and a black low-cut t-shirt with a gold rock and roll motif on the back. She really pulled off that rock chic style.

Much happier now you’re back at my side where you belong. You look like shit, girl, and I don’t mean because you’ve been on a plane either, Jodie said in her strange accent. Now I’m short with blue eyes, reddish - strawberry blond hair and although I don’t have the best figure I don’t think it’s that bad either. But I do have the kind of metabolism that no woman wants as a single bite of a chocolate bar usually doubles the muffin top I often feel trying to creep over the top of my jeans.

Thanks for that, I said mockingly. I was aware that I once again looked like shit next to her.

It was cold when I left England, so I wore my favourite stripy crew neck jumper and navy shrug to keep me warm but now in the Californian heat I was becoming flush and sweaty. I’d tied my hair back on the plane but renegade strands had come loose and were sticking to my skin. Watching Jodie open the trunk, I also became aware of how much weight I’d gained on my trip back (thanks to my dad’s calorific cooking) but I was too tired to think about it properly so I pushed that thought to the back of my mind to take out and wallow over later. Instead, I took the coffee and pack of Twinkies she had brought for me and left her to throw my bags in the car.

How was the flight?

With a mouth full of Twinkie I said, Not long enough. Then I remembered I was in public and how ungraceful I was and washed it down with a mouthful of coffee.

Are you having second thoughts? she asked with a hint of worry in her voice. I wasn’t sure if I was or not.

No. No, it’s just it was nice to be by myself for a while in that in-between-place, I said.

Jodie looked at me with a bemused expression on her face.

Being in the air was like no man’s land between the life I left and this one here.

So you are having second thoughts? We both opened our doors and got into the car.

I thought for a minute and took a deep breath before I could answer. I think I will always wonder if I made the wrong decision leaving but...it felt right.

Jodie looked across at me, smiled that wicked smile of hers and said, Then don’t look back.

So what’s been happening? What’s the gossip? Who did what? Who’s slept with who? Who did you sleep with?

Hmmm, let me see. Well, Josh and Amy are still the same, always fighting and fucking and as loud as ever. Josh and Amy are in the apartment directly below us. Mia broke up with Tommy again. Oh and she thinks she’s pregnant. Mia lives down the hall from us with her on-again-off-again boyfriend, Tommy. You can always tell when they are back together as the hallway outside their apartment is filled with a strange musty smell, a mixture of marijuana and effort.

She always thinks she’s pregnant. Why doesn’t she go on the pill or something?

Because she’s stupid and lazy, that’s why. I know she’s a friend but good God, I really want to knock some sense into her sometimes. I mean I really want to hit her. Anyway who else? Oh yeah, James is looking forward to seeing you. Now it was her eyebrow that was cocked.

James is a friend who lives across the hall and has been trying since the day we met to get me to have sex with him. He’s a good friend to have and he’s not bad looking, but he is also a total slut. He took my rebuff as a personal challenge, but I’m one notch he won’t be adding to his bed post.

Next, I said in a dismissive tone.

Ok, Mitch says hi and sorry he couldn’t come to the airport because he had to work but he’ll see you tomorrow.

Mitch is one of my closest friends. Jodie and I met him at a seventies’ party a week after I first arrived. It was a costume party and, although everyone was dressed up, Mitch was the only one who stood out. He’s a big black guy who was wearing tight white flares, a gold belt, a matching medallion and an open white shirt to show off his rippling chest. He was also wearing an afro wig that was two sizes too big. With the courage of the Dutch, Jodie and I strutted onto the dance floor as Saturday Night Fever started playing and we found Mitch imitating John Travolta in the centre.

The three of us then danced to Blame it on the Boogie -I was sunshine, Jodie was moonlight and Mitch was good times. I always had fun with Mitch. Mitch lived in Sacramento but had an apartment close to Venice beach and would split his time between the two. God I can’t wait to see him. I’ve really missed just hanging out with him. What about you? You haven’t told me what naughtiness you’ve been up to.

I’ve been an angel while you were gone. She snorted in a very unladylike manner. Though not from lack of trying, she added.

"Ok, now that I find difficult to believe. What man in their right mind would turn a gorgeous, goddess like you down?" Jodie loved that ego boost and I was happy to give it.

Why can’t I find a man like you?

In my most sultry voice I leaned across and said, Or maybe a good woman like me? Jodie gave a hearty laugh. Girl, please! Could you really see me as a lesbian? I’d have no problem with the kissing part but I couldn’t go with another woman no matter how hot she was.

What about Jessica Alba? I asked.

Ok if we’re including celebrity free passes and exceptions, I could do Miss Alba.

What about you? she continued.

Oh it would have to be Anna Paquin, I said without hesitation.

Good call. But apart from those two?

Yes, apart from those two it’s dick all the way.

Dick all the way! We both had the giggles now.

Anyway, who is this mad man who’s giving you grief?

His name is Ryan. He’s a friend of James’ and he’s not giving me grief...he’s not giving me anything and that’s the problem.

I was curious now, what guy wouldn’t go for Jodie?

Is he good looking?

Yeah, he’s got that tall, dark and moody thing going on. Think Jim Morrison meets a young Mick Jagger. I scrunched up my face at her description. Trust me, it’s a good mixture. He’s gorgeous and charming and funny but I just can’t get him into bed. Not yet anyway.

He probably just doesn’t know you well enough.

I don’t usually have to wait for them to get to know me. I’ll figure him out.

I’m sure you will. Where’s he staying?

He’s sharing with James, so we now have two hot guys living across the hall instead of one. Just then The Clash’s London Calling came on the radio and Jodie lost track of what she was going to say.

I love this song! She turned the volume up and started singing, ending our conversation.

I was so busy talking to Jodie, balancing one too many bags and trying to get the key in the lock when I arrived at the apartment, that I didn’t register the noise coming from inside.

SURPRISE! shouted my living room full of people.

Welcome back! shouted Josh from the back. I was so stunned, and I was really touched. I hugged and kissed everyone on the way to my room. As much as I was happy to see them all I needed a minute to get my head together. I put my bags into the closet—I’d unpack later—and opened my carry-on bag to grab my makeup bag and hair brush. I opened one of the bags and grabbed the first top to hand, a blue vest that looked good with my jeans. I headed for the bathroom to make myself more presentable before I joined the party.

I walked down the hall and, as I leaned in to open the bathroom door, it opened from the other side and I stumbled awkwardly and half fell into someone, but caught myself on the door frame. I looked up and standing in front of me was a tall, slim man I’d never seen before. He was wearing tight fitting black jeans and a grey Rolling Stones t-shirt. He had pale, smooth looking skin and long, wavy, dark brown hair which came down to his shoulders. His strong jaw line, along with his dark features and brown eyes so murky they almost looked black made him look like trouble. He was beautiful. This had to be Ryan.

Hi. Sorry about that, we must have gone for the door at the same time, I couldn’t help rambling. Sorry, let me introduce myself, I’m Lexi.

This tall beautiful man looked me up and down and said, You’re Lexi? Not quite what I expected.

I felt a rage build up inside me at his condescending tone. He may be good looking but who the fuck did he think he was? I knew I was looking crappy from my long journey, but the way he said it was just plain rude and I did not appreciate the baffled way he was looking down at me.

Well I don’t know what you expected and right now I couldn’t really care less. I would, however, like to get into my bathroom so if you wouldn’t mind getting out of the way... Now, please... Move!

I was pissed off, but I also really needed the bathroom. I wasn’t about to get into anything with this prick before I had applied a generous amount of makeup—which, on this occasion, I preferred to call war paint. Without another word, he stepped out of the way and walked down the hall and into the kitchen. I closed the bathroom door behind me and stared at myself in the mirror.

I let my hair down from the high pony it had been in for hours and it sat all crinkly just below my shoulders. My usual hair colour was a reddish - dirty blond but right now it was just looking dirty. My eyes, usually bright blue, were all red and full of water but I wasn’t teary because I was sad, but because I was mad. Not quite what I expected, I said to myself, mimicking his disapproving tone. Cheeky bastard!

Ryan

Lexi fell into me as I opened the bathroom door.

She straightened herself up and then began to babble something but I really wasn’t paying any attention to what she was saying. I took a really good look at her and with her glowing skin and her hair tied up she looked much younger than I thought she’d be. She wore dark jeans that clung to her curves and a jumper that couldn’t fully hide the womanly form of her upper body. When the others had spoken of her, I thought she would just be another version of Jodie but I hadn’t expected this jabbering girl in front of me, with a fascinating mouth I could not take my eyes off. When I told her she was not what I expected I got the most exciting reaction. For a split second, I saw flames in her eyes and a strange look across her face. She was angry with me. I’m not exactly sure why but I’d managed to piss her off, and I liked it.

Then she looked up and dismissed me. So I stepped out of her way and walked down the hall. As much as I wanted to turn and say something or take another look at her, I could not wipe the smile off my face so I carried on into the kitchen. James was there doing shots and handed me one as I entered.

What’s so funny? he asked me in Italian. James was a native Californian but was fluent in Italian so we often had private conversations when so many ears were close by.

Nothing, I replied, shaking my head.

So did you see her? He’d told me about this Lexi but in all honesty I hadn’t heard the details. I never listened when he talked about a girl he wanted to get into bed.

Lexi. Yes we ran into each other in the bathroom. I can see why you’ve been trying to get her.

It’s only a matter of time my friend, he said with a smile and the confidence that came with experience.

What’s she like? I asked, the words spilling out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

Not too much work to be around...hard work to get into bed, he huffed.

Maybe this is one girl you’re not meant to get. She has fire, unlike your usual slatterns.

Are you kidding me? She’s here permanently now so it’s only a matter of time my friend.

Oh really, I teased.

Yes really, I’m a man who knows what he wants.

I bet she knows what she wants too, I mumbled to myself.

What? he asked.

Nothing, I’m just thinking out loud.

So what’s the deal with you and Jodie? Is she still after you? he asked and I sighed.

"Yes! She’s relentless. If you see me cornered by her later do not wait just come and save me,"

I will but I still say you should just fuck her and to get her off your back.

Something tells me that wouldn’t get her off my back. I have no interest in her, James, and I think that would only encourage her more. No, I’m staying away from that one.

Whatever you say, Ryan, whatever you say. Cin Cin, he toasted, as we put our glasses together and knocked our shots back. We switched back into English as we went into the living room.

Lexi

I entered the kitchen feeling fresher. I was wearing my clean top, makeup and perfume, and my hair was brushed but back up in the high pony. I walked over to the side where all the food was and Jodie came over and handed me a Jack and Coke and a shot glass.

Tequila, she said, knocking hers back. I did the same then rinsed my mouth with a gulp of Jack and Coke.

Have you met Ryan yet?

Before I could answer, he came into the kitchen. Speak of the devil. I took another gulp of my drink.

Hey Ryan.

Jodie, he replied.

Have you met Lexi?

We’ve met, I said less politely. I wasn’t what he expected. His eyes went wide and I saw the corner of his mouth curl up into a smile.

No, you’re not, he said. So what did you expect?

More, he said, unapologetically.

It was official, I hated this guy! The three of us stood there uncomfortably. Jodie wasn’t quite sure what to say.

Ryan, is it? I said.

Yes. Am I what you expected? he asked with a creeping smile.

I didn’t expect anything. I hadn’t heard of you before now. And the smile was gone.

Well we’ve met now.

Yes we have, I replied coldly.

Ryan is a musician, Jodie said, trying to ease the tension.

So you’re unemployed. Ok, so that was below the belt but he’d awakened my inner bitch and she wasn’t ready to go back to sleep yet.

I work when I need to, he said calmly. I wanted to know what that meant, but I didn’t want him to think I was showing an interest in him. He was winding me up just being in the same room.

Lexi! James sang my name as he came into the kitchen with a big grin on his face and arms open wide. How’s my favourite English girl? He picked me up and whirled me around the kitchen like I was a rag doll, while kissing me repeatedly on the cheeks. I was getting dizzy but I was giggling like a little girl.

I’m good, was all I managed to get out between laughs, before he set me down. Tired from the jetlag but I’m happy to be back.

And I’m glad that you came back too. James was about 5’9", and a real manly man, good looking but only just. However, his confidence made him sexier than he should be. I automatically grabbed hold of his thick black hair with both hands. I loved running my hands through his hair and, even though I wouldn’t go any further with him, I couldn’t deny that he was good fun to be around.

Feels good to have you home, he said, sliding his hand across my bottom as he put me down.

I bet it does! Jodie said jokingly.

So you met my friend Ryan? He’s staying with me for a while.

I glanced over at Ryan who had been watching our greeting with interest.

How do you two know each other? I directed the question to James.

We met at college, when I did a summer exchange programme to Italy. Ryan’s dad is Italian so he arranged for me to work and stay with his family for the summer and his Italian cousin came over here and stayed with my folks. Ryan was Italian! That explained the arrogance.

So, Ryan, did you grow up here? I asked in a more polite tone.

My father is Italian, my mother is American and I was born in Italy. They separated when I was five so my childhood was split between them in both countries.

You clearly have an accent but you don’t have a strong Italian accent.

Most people aren’t travelled enough to comprehend where my accent comes from and they think it is not very defined but trust me, when’ I’m pissed off with you, you will hear where I’m from.

What did that mean When I’m pissed off with you? Was that a warning of some sort? Ok, Buster, now your card was marked.

Very interesting, I said courteously and smiled. Right, I’d better go and mingle with everyone else. After all, I am the guest of honour. I turned and left the kitchen, grabbing Jodie by the hand and taking her with me.

What a wanker! I whispered into her ear as we left the room. She stopped suddenly. What? I said, registering her look.

You don’t like him? She genuinely sounded shocked.

The guy is a prick. He’s rude, arrogant and thinks way too much of himself.

"I like him."

What? So did that mean I had too? Her tone certainly implied that.

Seriously, you don’t think he’s up himself?

He’s got a strange sense of humour but he’s really hot. Just be nice to him for now, for me. I thought you two would hit it off straight away.

Why?

Well, you two are so...alike. Oh dear God, I should have stayed in England! I was relieved when at that moment Amy interrupted us preventing a possible argument.

*

I heard rustling in the background. Everything was spinning when I opened my eye. I could only open the left one; my right eye was firmly cemented shut with a heavy layer of morning eye crap and mascara. The sofa was so uncomfortable. My body was in pain. My brain felt damaged. Every single part of me hurt! I was on the sofa, my bra showing, but at least I was covered with a blanket. I’d forgotten how hard they partied and for that mistake I was now suffering. The last thing I remember was talking to James about which one of my breasts he liked the most and then the whole room doing Sambuca shots...followed by tequila shots...followed by Jäger. Oh god I did Jäger shots too. That wasn’t even a good idea at the time!

My mouth felt like something had crawled in and died there during the night and I was sure the smell making me feel like throwing up was coming from me.

Good morning, gorgeous.

I prised open my right eye and tried to focus. Ryan. Why? God, why? He was standing directly over me.

God, don’t you have your own home to go to?

God? Most people just call me Ryan but if that’s what you want to call me that’s fine by me.

Ryan, I am too hung-over to deal with your shit right now. There was that creeping smile again.

Deal with my shit! And what shit is that exactly? he asked cheerily

What are you still doing here anyway? He sat on the edge of the sofa, virtually squashing my legs. I was uncomfortable whichever way I lay so I moved up.

James went to meet some girl last night; he brought her back here to fuck and locked me out so I slept in your bed.

What! Why?

Well, you passed out on the sofa and there was nowhere else to sleep so I slept in your bed. I wasn’t going to try and lift you so I covered you with a blanket.

I wasn’t sure which was causing the most pain, the hangover or his presence.

Look, Ryan—

Shut up and take your medicine, he said, as he handed me a large mug of black coffee and two aspirin. I was going to protest at being told to shut up, but I really needed the coffee so I sat up, swallowed the painkillers, accepted the coffee and took a deep breath before I spoke.

Thank you, I said. He unexpectedly gave a wide and toothy grin.

That must have hurt, he said, laughing and sipping from his own cup.

What? I groaned.

Saying thank you; being nice to me. You don’t like me at all, do you?

I was feeling rough and didn’t have the strength to lie. No, not really. The feeling seems to be mutual so it’s not really a big deal.

He started laughing again. What gave you that idea?

Hmmm, let me see: there’s your rudeness and overall behaviour towards me since we met. He was laughing even more now. He really was getting annoying.

I say what I mean. Some people say I’m too blunt, but I’m not going to waste my time saying something I don’t mean just to make you feel good. If you don’t like what I say that’s your problem, not mine. I’m not rude, I’m just honest.

Can you be honest without being a patronising prick?

Now he was really laughing at me.

Why are you laughing? I whined

Because I find you very amusing. You don’t like me and you assume the feeling is mutual. The truth is that I find you interesting and annoying at the same time but I don’t dislike you.

Well, I did not know what to say to that, but then he added, Not yet, anyway.

He had to go and spoil it! I was about to come back with a smart comment when he suddenly stood up and walked over to the front door. He turned and smiled before walking out and closing the door. I was feeling way too hung-over to deal with him. As he closed the door behind him, I glanced over at the clock and saw that it was only seven twenty. Why the hell was he so loud so early? Five minutes later and I didn’t care that this annoying stranger had slept in my bed. I was just relieved to be sprawled out and comfy as I drifted off to sleep in my own bed.

*

I felt rough! It wasn’t only the hangover. In addition, I was still suffering with jetlag and being woken up at the crack of dawn by an annoying Italian didn’t help matters either. It was almost lunch when I finally dragged myself out of bed. When I stepped out of the shower, my phone started ringing and I hurried to answer it.

Hello?

Hey, baby girl.

Mitch! I said his name with such enthusiasm that he gave a deep, rumbling laugh in return.

Wow, it’s good to hear your voice, Lexi. I nearly forgot what you sounded like.

Well, I can barely remember what you look like. That was a lie. Mitch was hard to forget. He was 6’4",