Authors: Natalie Aaron and Marla Schwartz
It’s Saturday afternoon, and while Zoë is hiding at her parents’ house, I’m sitting around waiting anxiously for Jeff to come by and pick up his stuff. As I turn on the TV and try to distract myself with reruns of
South Park,
the doorbell rings. I take a deep breath and answer.
“Hey,” I say, giving Jeff a hug. His unshaven face scratches against my cheek. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay, I guess. Still in shock. Uh, how’s Zoë?”
God, this is awkward.
“I think she’s okay. Sad.” Lie. This morning she was nothing short of chipper as she stuffed Jeff’s DVDs, toothbrush, clothes and his iPod speaker into a thick plastic bin. “I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t know what the hell happened. One minute, all she can do is talk about planning the wedding, the next…” His voice trails off as he massages his forehead.
“I know. I think Zoë has just been really overwhelmed with everything that’s been going on lately. She’s really confused right now.” I look down at the floor. I have no idea what to say to him.
“She’s not confused. I’ve never seen her more certain. She just…turned, she fell out of love with me.”
“That’s not true. Zoë loves you, the timing just wasn’t right.” I know these ridiculous platitudes aren’t helping, but it’s all I can think of. I honestly don’t know why she broke up with him.
“I think she’s seeing someone else.”
I shake my head. “No way. No. Zoë wouldn’t do that.”
“Well the alternative is she’s a cold bitch who just turns her feeling off over money. What’s worse?”
I flinch at the harshness of his words. “I don’t know why Zoë did what she did, but she must have had a good reason. I feel just terrible about all of this.”
“Sorry, Abby, this isn’t your problem. I know I’m putting you in a bad spot here. Look, don’t tell Zoë about any of this, okay?” Jeff grimaces as he looks down at the contents of the box.
“Course not. I just want you to know that I’m here if you need me. We’re friends too.”
“Thanks, I’ll be okay. I gotta head out. Talk to you soon, kiddo.”
We hug goodbye. Jeff slowly picks up his box of belongings, and walks out of the apartment.
There’s no way Zoë has been having an affair. If she were, I would know it. But it is strange that she can just compartmentalize her feelings like that. They were together for years. I was actually envious of what they had, even if their engagement wasn’t exactly storybook. I don’t get it. I just don’t get it.
For the first time in six years, I’ve had an actual break between shows. It’s been two blissful weeks of sleeping in until 10:00 a.m., a few lunches out with Stephanie and a couple of matinees with a bizarrely happy Zoë. I’ve actually exercised, developed a skin-care regime and cleaned out my closet. But that all comes to an end today, my first day on
Second Time Around.
I’ll miss the carefree life, but I’m ready to get a paycheck.
The first person I see as I walk into the maze of matchbox offices and cramped cubicles is Christine. She skips over to greet me.
“I’m so glad we’re working together again. This is going to be so much fun,” she says.
“I hope so.”
“It will be. Especially since we’re a team again. I’m going to be the best segment producer ever.” Christine smiles. “They’ve cast the main girl. Her name is Katie, and she’s a real-estate agent. They told her the show is like
The Bachelorette.
She has no idea what she’s in for.”
“Wow, aren’t you a walking memo.” I chuckle.
“I overheard a few people talking about it. They cast all of the guys too. Four of them are ex-boyfriends, two are childhood crushes and then the other six are just totally random strangers. You’ve got to see their headshots, they’re totally hot.”
“Yeah, I bet,” I say. I’m such a pessimist.
“They also hired this comedian guy to be the host. I’ve never seen him before, but supposedly he used to host a game show or something like that a few years ago. His name is Stone Waters. Ever heard of him?”
“No, I think I would remember that name. Hilarious.”
“I think this show is going to be a hit. It’s such a cute idea. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I don’t know if I would watch it though, but it’s cute.”
Christine shrugs her shoulders and walks over to the crusty-looking coffee pot for what looks like a cup of tar.
Just then, a deep voice whispers in my ear, “What’s the matter, Crabby? You already bitching about the show?”
I snap my head around to see Grant smirking. He instantly envelops me in an enormous bear hug.
“I haven’t seen you in months. What have you been up to? Are you working here?” I ask excitedly.
“Slow down there.” Grant laughs. “At first, I was just hanging out and golfing.”
“Ach, I hate you.”
“Don’t hate me too much. I was only off for a couple of weeks. After that I got an opportunity to direct a couple of shows back-to-back so I jumped on that. And now I’m here.”
“That’s great. Hey, Grant, this is Christine, she’s one of the segment producers.” I motion my head toward Christine, who has just poured about a bottle’s worth of Coffee-mate into her cup.
“Nice to meet you,” Grant says as he thrusts his hand to Christine for a shake.
“What are you doing on the show?” Christine asks.
“I’m the director.”
“Director? Nice.” I nod.
“Thanks.”
“Grant was my producer on
Matchmaker,
” I explain to Christine.
“Oh wow. That’s cool. So, what does a director do on a show like this?” Christine asks.
Is she kidding? Everyone knows what a director does. “He deals with uh, contestants, and the crew and just, general, directing.” Oh damn it, why did I open my mouth?
“Oh. Okay.” Christine scrunches her eyebrows together. Clearly, she isn’t buying my in-depth analysis of Grant’s job. “Oh look, there’s Larry. I’m going to go say hi. Nice to meet you, Grant.”
After Christine is gone, Grant shakes his head at me. “You loser. How long have you been doing this?”
“You can just shut the hell up. None of the shows I’ve worked on were ever big enough to have a director. Besides, no one can say what a director
really
does, you just direct, uh, the people.” Grant is grinning at me. “Oh, just tell me. I don’t want anyone else knowing that I have no idea what I’m doing here,” I say, lowering my voice.
“Christ. All right. I’ll be setting up the shots for every scene and every interview, directing the camera guys, making sure the lighting is fine, all that good stuff. I’ll make it look pretty,” he explains in a parent-to-child sort of tone.
“Got it,” I say. “And so, as a field producer, what exactly will
I
be doing?” I whisper.
Grant lets out a huge laugh. “Man, we’re in trouble.”
“Thanks,” I say, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“You’ll be doing the same thing I did on
Matchmaker.
You and your segment producer will be helping to brainstorm and plan the dates and some of the scenes in and around the house. You’ll follow story in the field so when it’s time to interview everyone, you’ll know what to ask them. Sometimes you might have to direct a cast member to say or do something in particular. And I’m pretty sure there are about three other producer teams, so you guys will be splitting up the days between you. Come on, you know all this shit.”
I lower my eyes. “Yeah, yeah I know, but titles mean something different on every reality show. Plus, I know I can ask you these things, and you won’t judge.”
“Oh, I’m judging your ass all right!”
Hmphf.
I forgot what a cocky bastard he could be sometimes.
After filling out our new-hire paperwork, we’re all called to a conference room for a meet-and-greet. In addition to Grant, Christine and myself, there are about twenty-five other people. I’m assuming they’re the other producers and segment producers, the production supervisor and coordinator, maybe the camera guys, sound guys, and a few production assistants.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a black ski hat bobbing amongst the sea of people trickling in through the doorway. Great. That fat head and stupid hat can only belong to one person.
Knit Cap.
“Hey, Abs!” Tom says, as he takes the only available seat, which as befits my crappy luck, is directly next to me. “How you doin’?” he says, attempting a ridiculous Joey imitation. That joke isn’t past its prime at all.
Get some new material, pal.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Uh, I work here?” he says, sounding totally smarmy.
“I know, but you’re an editor so you shouldn’t be starting work on this for another few weeks.”
“I wanted experience in the field, so Will gave me an assistant camera job and then afterwards, I’ll move over to post.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I thought it was a good idea to get an editor’s input in the field. This way I can really get a chance to direct the camera guys.”
Grant, who up to this point seems to have been ignoring our conversation, leans over me. “Hey, I’m Grant, the director. I think I’ll have it covered, but it’s nice to know you’ve got my back.”
I fake a cough to cover my laugh.
Knit Cap looks shocked. “Oh, dude, totally. It’s just that I’m the
lead
editor on the show, so I thought I could give them a few tips. You know, nothing big. Just to help out so when it’s time for post, it’ll be gold.”
“Well if I need an editor’s perspective, I’ll know where to look.”
I quickly glance down pretending to read my confidentiality agreement. The amount of testosterone Grant’s flinging around is laughable. But Knit Cap deserves it.
Will walks into the room and puts a folder on the table. I smile and wave as he looks over at me. He doesn’t wave back; he just looks over at the guy across from me and smiles. What the hell? Now my hand is frozen in midair. I look like an idiot. I try to deflect by dragging my hand through my hair, but of course, a big lock gets stuck on my ring. Stupid curly hair. I yank my hand out as subtly as I can (while also pulling about twenty hairs in the process) and cross my arms.
Will takes a sip of coffee and whispers something to the pretty blonde standing next to him. She’s wearing black trousers, with a simple tight white tank, and a cute, short, fitted blazer. She’s also the size of a pencil. Why can’t I carry an outfit like that off?
“Hello. Can I get everyone’s attention please?” She smiles at Will like she’s just solved world hunger and he steps forward.
“Hey, everyone. I’m Will Harper, one of the executive producers. I’ve met most of you already,” he says, glancing around the room without stopping to look at anyone in particular.
“And if we haven’t met, we’ll have plenty of time to do so.” His cell phone vibrates and he looks down at the display. “Excuse me, I have to take this call. I’m going to leave you all in the very capable hands of Lisa.” He gestures to her and leaves.
Lisa flips her hair off her shoulders, displaying a very defined clavicle bone. Hmm, I’ve always wanted one of those. Maybe I just wasn’t born with one.
“Welcome to
Second Time Around.
I’m Lisa, the supervising producer. I hope you’ve all signed your confidentiality agreements. The network is adamant about keeping this show under wraps so we absolutely cannot talk about the concept with anyone.”
Whoops. I’ve already told Zoë, Nancy, Stephanie, my parents, Zoë’s parents, my hairdresser and countless other people what the show is about. Oh well.
“Will and I are really excited about the show,” Lisa says, with a tight smile. “The girl we’ve cast is amazing. Her name is Katie and she’s very hot and
very
TV-friendly. The guys are all great too. And that brings me to my next point. I know you’re all professionals here, so I don’t need to remind you that there will be no fraternizing with the cast members.”
Hmm, isn’t that technically a reminder?
“No talking to them unless it’s regarding the show. Basically, no socializing whatsoever. Today we’re going to be checking out the location of the house where the guys and Katie are going to live, and where most of the filming is going to take place. It’s in Malibu, and we’ve got three crew vans waiting to take us all there. So if you don’t mind gathering up your stuff, we’ll meet you all outside in five. Oh, and as a side note, two representatives from the network will be joining us, so be on your best behavior, please.”
Goody, a field trip!
I love field trips. It means I don’t have to stress out about anything.
“She’s hot!” Knit Cap breathes in my ear as we all begin to slowly file out of the cramped room. “You might have some competition. But don’t worry, I’ll save you a seat on the bus.”
“Actually, I’m all set. I’m sitting with Christine. We have stuff to go over.”
“Then I’ll save you both a seat, if you know what I mean.”
He’s such an ass.
I force Christine to wait in the hall with me while Knit Cap picks a van. The idiot is milling about, talking to the girls and playing with his iPad. “Just pick a van,” I say to the window.
“So I have a few friends who’ve worked with Lisa before,” Christine whispers, looking around to make sure no one can hear her.
“What did they say about her?” I ask.
“Total bitch. She gave one of my friends hives.”
“Ewwww. Really? I wonder if Will knows she’s like that?”
“Probably not. Guys don’t see it or get it. Wait and see. She’ll probably be all over Will kissing his ass.”
Christine and I are finally loading into the last minivan to Malibu.
Crap.
We’ve ended up in the Boss Van. Will and his “very capable” supervising producer are sharing a seat; behind him are two impatient-looking guys in suits. Must be from the network. Will is so engrossed in his conversation with Lisa that he doesn’t even look up as we squeeze ourselves into the van. I can’t believe he’s gone back to this old game again. I thought we were past all of that. We came to an understanding, it was like we were old friends. Okay, maybe not old friends. Acquaintances. Colleagues? Whatever. He’s not acknowledging my existence and it sucks.