A few more minutes passed, and I was beginning to think I had scared him away when I received a response.
Imsebastiangray: I’m not going to do that… but I will take a photo with my shirt on if you like.
Testy, aren’t we?
I thought to myself. Then my heart started this strange fluttering sensation. Shit! What if it is him? Maybe Sebastian’s manager had passed on my information. But would Sebastian himself write me? He never had before, and my love for him had been plastered all over the Internet for years. But crap… maybe. My head began to spin as I typed the following:
Okay prove it, then. And just so you know if I find out that this is you, Gabby, I am never going to forgive you.
Everything went silent, all except the buzzing that continued to whoosh through my brain. I glanced down and saw that Patricia was waiting patiently on me to finish with my mystery man. Clicking over into her instant message box, I typed,
OMG! Patricia! This person is saying he’s really Sebastian Gray, and he is going to prove it by sending me a photo of himself holding a sign with my name! Holy Shit! What should I do if it’s really him?
I was scaring myself. I hadn’t been the nicest of nice when typing to him just now.
Patricia: What?? Wow Ashley! I don’t know, but you have to tell me immediately if it’s him.
Ding!
My heart skipped two beats at that sound. Slowly, I flipped back to the imposter’s instant message box. Silently holding my breath, I clicked it open, and the entire bottle of wine felt like it hit my brain and exploded. Feeling extremely dizzy, I’m sure I would’ve fainted had I not been sitting down. I blinked my eyes to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. Sure enough, right there on my computer screen was Sebastian Gray holding a piece of notebook paper with Ashley written on it. My first thought was how in the hell did Gabby Photoshop a picture of Sebastian holding my name in just one minute, but then I realized…. OMG! It really is Sebastian Gray! Running my fingers though my hair, I was at a loss for words. I must have hesitated too long because Sebastian sent another message.
Imsebastiangray: Ashley, did you get the picture?
Holy hell, did I ever!
I looked closely at the photo of Sebastian. There he stood, in black sweats and a tight black T-shirt, his abs poking out as if they were waving at me. Every nerve in my body was standing on edge as I struggled to think of something to say. The alcohol in my system wasn’t helping—in fact all it was doing was muddling my brain. Making myself take a deep breath, I tried to focus again. He was waiting for a response, so I needed to be careful what I wrote. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself… yet.
Ashley: I did… and can I just apologize now for not believing you and for anything that I may say from this moment forward?
Imsebastiangray: LOL. It’s fine. I’m sure you won’t say anything I haven’t heard before.
Ashley: Don’t count on that! You’ve only just met me.
Imsebastiangray: Ha-ha! You’re pretty funny Ashley.
I grabbed my forehead in an attempt to get myself under control.
Yeah, I’m a regular riot. Why the hell did I drink tonight of all nights? My first contact with the man of my dreams and I accuse him of being a liar. Ugh
, I thought as I glanced over at the empty wine bottle. Realizing I hadn’t answered, I quickly typed:
I don’t know what to say. Well I know what I want to say, but I know I had better not say it, so I’ll just say nothing unless you want me to say it….
Shit! The wine was making me a rambling fool.
Zip it, Ashley, zip it
, I told myself.
Imsebastiangray: You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to thank you for all the promotional work you’ve done on my behalf for—what has it been? Three years?
Ashley: Actually three and a half if you count the time I spent running MySpace for you. That was around the time you were dating that bitch from the same television show… what was her name? Melody something.
The second I hit Send, I was mortified by what I had written. Quickly I tried to rectify the situation.
Ashley: Shit! I mean shoot! I mean crap…. OMG, I’m sorry.
I’m sure if I looked in a mirror, the word
loser
would be stamped across my forehead.
Imsebastiangray: Ha-ha! Don’t worry, between you and me, she was a bitch. ☺
I wasn’t sure what to say next. I only knew that I wanted to keep him talking. Now that I had him this close, I didn’t want him to leave. Scrambling for something to write, I typed,
So, it’s really okay to make the sites official?
Imsebastiangray: Absolutely! And if you like, I can send you new information and a few pics that I don’t think you have.
More contact! Score!
At this point I was becoming giddy. I wasn’t sure how much of the giddiness was due to Sebastian or the wine, but whatever it was, it was working for me.
Ashley: That would be cool!
Imsebastiangray: How about I send you some tomorrow? Would that work?
Tomorrow, tonight, next week, in person…. Anything you want, baby
, I thought as I struggled to think of something clever to say. But all I could think about was the fact that I was on the freakin’ Internet talking to freakin’ Sebastian Gray! Looking down at my keyboard, I forced myself to type carefully.
Ashley: Yes, that would be great. Do you have my e-mail address?
Imsebastiangray: Is it [email protected]?
Ashley: That’s the one. Nurse by day, promotional guru by night.
Seriously, did I just say that? I sound like an infomercial.
Imsebastiangray: So Nurseash, what do you do for fun when you’re not helping me out?
I immediately stopped typing. Shit! Okay, now was my chance to say something cool and impress him. I couldn’t have him thinking I was some loser who lived on the Internet worshiping his favorite celebrity—even though I was. Okay, what sounded good? What did he like? Finally a thought came to me.
Ashley: Well… I go to the gym every day to work out and jog at night.
I couldn’t believe I had just lied like a dog to him. What was wrong with me? It was like my fingers suddenly had a mind of their own.
Imsebastiangray: That sounds pretty intense. But why jog at night? Is it safe to jog alone, or do you jog with a partner?
Ashley: Alone… but it’s okay, I’m not scared. Why?
Imsebastiangray: Oh no reason. It’s just that I wouldn’t think it’s too safe for a girl to go jogging by herself at night.
Girl?
I sat straight up in my chair, almost sobering at this word.
Girl? He thinks I’m a girl? What the hell? Oh shit, never mind. It’s that damn name of mine that my crazy mother stuck on me. Crap! Now what do I say? I guess I should tell him the truth. But what if he only contacted me because he thought I was a girl? He obviously likes knowing that he’s chatting with a girl! Fucking straight guy! Think, Ash, think….
Imsebastiangray: Ashley, are you still there?
Ashley: Yeah, I’m here. I spilled my drink.
And the lies keep flowing…. Who knew I could lie like a sailor without blinking an eye? First I tell him I’m working out when in actuality the last time I saw a gym was at my nephew’s basketball game—in middle school! And secondly, I tell him I jog?
Jog
? Ha! I only jog to the nearest Krispy Kreme, and that’s only when they have their
Hot-Now
sign on. Crap! Should I tell him the truth and risk that he won’t talk to me anymore?
Tapping my fingers on the keyboard, my muddled brain refused to give in.
Do I really want to lose this little connection I have with him? What does it matter if he thinks I’m a girl? After all, what are the chances I’ll ever meet him?
So as a hundred red flags flew up all around me, with a little help from the bottle of wine, I decided to lie—as in lie-my-ass-off. Clicking on my Facebook messenger, I typed the words that would seal my fate.
Ashley: You’re absolutely right. It’s not safe for girls to jog alone. Next time I’ll ask my friend to come along with me.
Imsebastiangray: Well that’s good to hear. Okay, Ashley, I have to sign off, but thank you again, and tomorrow I’ll find a few pics. When can I find you here on the Internet?
What? He wants to chat again… so soon? OMG.
Pulling at my hair in extreme nervousness, I tried to force myself to calm down.
Ashley: I should be here around seven—my time. Oh, I’m in Georgia, so that’s Eastern Standard Time.
Imsebastiangray: Okay, Ashley, I’ll see you around seven tomorrow. And thanks again for everything. Good night.
As I watched Sebastian click to end our instant connection, I felt a sadness creep over me. Was it really him, or had I imagined the entire thing? Would he really show up again tomorrow? Would I ever get to speak to him again? My heart was flipping between incredible happiness and an emptiness that threatened to take over my soul.
Get a damn grip, man. He said he would be back, and he will. But for now you have his official sites!
Realizing that I had left Patricia on hold forever, I clicked back in her box.
Ashley: Patricia…. OMG, you will never guess what happened!
Patricia: What, Ashley? Was it him? Was it Sebastian?
Ashley: YES, and you are now talking to the official person who runs his social media sites and meet the new me…. Ashley, the girl.
I went on to explain everything that had just taken place with Sebastian, and after being chastised by Patricia for lying, I got offline and put my drunk ass to bed. Tomorrow was a new day and one I hoped would lead to a wonderful online relationship with the man of my dreams.
THE NEXT
morning I could barely get myself out of bed between my wine hangover and the thought of how irresponsible I had been. Not only did I drink an entire bottle of wine on a work night, but I also misled the one person I adored.
Seriously, dude? Misled? You flat-out lied.
Regardless of the magnitude of my
untruth
, I could hardly sleep last night for worrying. In order to ensure my beauty sleep, I would have to tell Sebastian the truth. I’m not a girl. I’m a full-blooded man in love with him—okay, maybe I’ll leave that last part out—but the truth must be told tonight. Now, I had to get to work.
The first thing I did upon arriving at the hospital was visit the pediatric unit. After stepping off the elevator, I followed the walls covered with painted elephants and tigers. Turning right down the hallway and the walls now covered with floating teddy bears, I found the room with my little patient. As I walked into her room, I could see she was awake. Even though I worked as a nurse, it was always hard to walk into a room and see a child hooked up to all the monitors. A young woman, who I assumed was her mother, sat beside her bed holding her hand. I had asked around last night and found out someone at the restaurant had tackled the father after he pulled the gun. The tackle had made the gun go off, and while the mother was not hurt, the little girl had been in the line of fire. But fortunately she was going to make a full recovery.
Walking over to her bedside, I said hello to her mother and smiled down at my smallest patient. “Hello, little one, my name’s Ashley. I helped take care of you when you came into the emergency room, so I wanted to come by and see how you were doing.”
The little girl looked up at me and bravely gave me a small smile. Quietly she said, “Hey, you have the same name as me.”
That made me laugh. Just last night I was cursing my girlie name, and today it made me happy to have it. “That’s pretty cool, Ashley. I think that means we are meant to be friends.”
Little Ashley smiled again and whispered, “Thank you for helping me last night.”
My heart melted for the second time in twenty-four hours. Smiling down at her, I responded, “I’ll come back later and check on you again. Would that be okay?”
She reached up with her tiny hand to grab mine. “Okay.”
I squeezed her hand before walking out of her room on a cloud, knowing that this was the reason I had decided to become a nurse.
On my way back to the ER, I stopped by the nurses’ station for some headache medicine. That bottle of wine I had slammed down was pounding me back with a passion. I walked into the restroom to take the medicine and splash my face, hoping that would wake me up. Looking into the mirror with water dripping down my cheeks, I saw my normal hazel-green eyes now had red, crinkly lines, giving them that lovely bloodshot look, thanks to the alcohol’s effect. My hair, which was floppy—for lack of a better word—and generally unruly, was all over the place. Pulling the longer part of my hair up and inspecting the roots, I also realized it was time for a new highlight job. I was a blond, but I did need a little help from my friends at Revlon. Checking myself out one last time to make sure I was presentable, I walked down to the ER to clock in. It was going to be a very long day before I could get home to see if my celebrity crush would contact me again. That is, if it really was him. Maybe in my drunken state, I imagined the entire thing. Ugh, a very long day indeed.
AS I
flew through my front door at exactly 6:57 p.m., I dropped my Chinese takeout on the kitchen counter and ran over to my desk. I pulled my laptop over, then threw open the top and turned it on. While it booted up, I rushed back into the kitchen. I glanced at the clock and saw that I had exactly one minute before I needed to be online. Sebastian had said seven o’clock, so I would be on Facebook come hell or high water. I opened the dishwasher and reached in, grabbing a clean fork. Then I picked up my food and looked around for something to drink. Over on the counter littered with takeout boxes, I spotted my empty wine bottle from last night. I knew I had another chardonnay under the sink, but I decided it would be in my best interest to forgo the wine and have a large bottle of water instead. I opened the refrigerator, grabbed the water, and then darted toward the living room.