Chapter One

I have the perfect life.  There’s no other way to say it.  I grew up in LA with two hippie parents who thought a day at work was gazing at the sun.  Not to mention the fact that my Mom was still living off an immense fortune.  Needless to say, my childhood and the years thereafter were very…comfortable.  I’ve experienced everything from being prom queen to graduating at the top of my undergraduate class; I own my own record label that produces all the new and upcoming talent in the LA area; and I’m engaged to Aiden Dennison, star point guard for the LA Lakers.

So once again I say, my name is Ashley Davies, and I have the perfect life.  The only problem is that I can’t stand any of it.  I have a fiancée who wants nothing more than to spend every waking moment with me and I can’t stand the smell of him.  I have parents who come by every Sunday for brunch and never bother me with their own troubles, but I hate to answer the phone when they call.  My label just signed three phenomenal bands and I can’t work up the energy to get them into the studio and on the streets.  I can’t do anything.  I don’t want to do anything.

That’s why I’m sitting here in my living room watching The Lion King and crying even though Mufasa died almost twenty minutes ago.  I can’t help it.  The tears just keep on coming.  Aiden is at an away game in Atlanta and I left work early because I “felt sick” (notice the quotes there.  That means I was lying).  Really, I just couldn’t look at my desk or my computer or the studio schedule in front of me for another second without killing myself.  I’m serious.  I was about to take a ball point pen to my throat.  So I left.

And now I’m crying for a dead lion.  I mean, I’m literally crying over an animated character who could care less about me.  He’s probably off in lion heaven eating hyena sausage and antelope pudding.  Mufasa doesn’t need me.

Before I can lunge into another fit of tears over this latest discovery there’s a knock at my door. I don’t move at first, but after a moment, there’s another hard knock.  It’s probably just David from next door, this little boy who likes to drop by some nights to talk to me.  He’s a great kid really, really sweet and not afraid to say anything.  If I have kids someday I want one just like him.