Blind Reality

by Heidi McLaughlin

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this is a set-up to not only boost ratings, but to rock the two marriages that don’t seem to be that strong. Those marriages would be Gary’s and mine. And some jackass producer has brought in the one guy who could make me lose my cool.

  The way Bronx is watching Joey and not his wife, who is making stupid eyes at Gary, leads me to believe that they know each other. But how? Not once has she mentioned anything about knowing this slime ball and I would think that their friendship, or whatever it is, should’ve been forthcoming.

  I should’ve asked her more about her list and who was on it. Maybe she hid him for fear that I would freak out, like I’m freaking out now. He likes her. I can tell by the way his eyes are following her and how they lit up when she fell into his arms. His eyes are smizing and here I thought only chicks knew how to do that.

  “We’ll give everyone a few minutes to make introductions,” Patrick says from behind the comfort of his teleprompter. If he were in here I’d be strangling his neck, even though he’s not to blame. He’s just the patsy.

  Bronx takes Rebekah’s hand in his and they introduce themselves, starting with Amanda and Gary. Amanda snorts when Rebekah holds Gary’s hand a little too long. “Don’t worry, I feel ya,” I want to holler out to her, but I refrain. The child in me wants to take Joey and run down the hall with her yelling neaner neaner neaner, but somehow I think that will be frowned upon.

  Cole and Bronx chat it up a bit and it annoys me that I can’t hear what they’re saying over the stupid music that is coming out of the loud speaker. Seriously, cut to a commercial already.

  When Bronx and Rebekah step in front of us, I’m rigid and no amount of pinching from Joey is making me any less so. He hugs her again, lingering longer than what I’d consider appropriate. I need to get her alone and quickly. My mind is racing, and while I don’t suspect they’ve slept together, the thoughts are there. Call it jealously, but I like knowing that I’m number one on her list, but if he’s also on there, we’re going to have a problem, especially if she didn’t tell me. And if this is a ploy by the producers to step up my game, so be it. If I have to fight for Joey’s affection, I’ll do it. I refused to do it for Jules, but I will for Joey. It’s because there’s more at stake with Joey, Jules can’t hold a candle to the beauty that Joey has in her.

  Aside from meeting Joey, I’m regretting the decision I made to be a part of this show. Who in their right mind would try to put a wedge in between a married couple? My own question makes me pause. This is exactly how life is and they’re just making that abundantly clear to us. I just sure as hell wish that it were with anyone other than Bronx Taylor. Couldn’t it have been Joey’s ex? Him, I could handle, but not this. It’s bad enough that I have to interact with him on a work and social level.

  My hand clenches as I stare him down. This man … I have no words for how much I despise him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a healthy competition among peers—it keeps you real to your craft—but when you purposely try to sabotage an audition or gloat about a part you landed over said peer, that just makes you a sleaze ball. And I’m not even considering that Bronx Taylor is the reason Jules and I broke up for good. She didn’t cheat, that much I do trust about her, but he pushed her to and that was enough for me to call it quits.

  “Newlyweds, if you’ll head to the backyard, we can start our next master suite competition.” Patrick Jonas’s voice is grating on my nerves and I have to bite my tongue to keep from lashing out. I roughly grab Joey’s hand in mind and all but drag her to the backyard. She crashes into my back when I pull up short. The backyard is a large Hungry Hungry Hippos game board with skateboards and laundry buckets. This is going to be interesting.

  “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me?” I throw my hands up in the air and groan.

  “What is your problem?” Joey asks as she pushes me toward our pink hippo.

  “It’s pink,” I say, pointing to the stupid ugly hippo that has a flashing hot pink sign in its mouth that’s blinking our names.

  “That’s your problem because our,” she points at our hippo, “is pink?”

  “Yes! I hate pink. I think it’s stupid and dumb and—”

  “Hey, Joey. How about we do lunch when the show’s over?”

  My blood boils as Bronx steps forward, taking Joey’s hand in his, and raises it to his mouth, kissing the top of it. Her eyes flutter and her cheeks turn pink. Pink! My hands clench into fists as I maneuver myself to stand in between them. I puff my chest out and square my shoulders causing Bronx to back-up. His hands are up as if he’s trying to back down from a fight. This isn’t some audition for a street gang movie, but real life … the reality television version of it anyway.

  “I’d love to.”

  “You’re busy,” I spit out.

  “I am?” she questions me as her hands land on hips in defiance.

  “Somehow I think she’ll be free.” He winks as he walks toward his station.

  “What the hell is going on?” she asks as if she doesn’t already know.

  “Couples, to your stations.”

  I don’t have a chance to say anything because she walks away. Bronx is watching and laughing. I have a feeling he knows why he was sent here, and he’s succeeded in a matter of seconds. Everything we’ve been building on is crumbling faster than the Berlin Wall and there isn’t jack shit I can do about it right now. We have to win this competition so we can hash everything out in private. And while we’re arguing and hopefully making up, Joey and I will need to discuss boundaries later. I know she doesn’t like Amanda and I’ve respected that. She’ll need to do the same when it comes to Bronx. At least I hope she will.

  With my luck, she won’t. I’ve already told her we’re done at the end of the show so why should she respect my feelings? She shouldn’t, and I don’t really have the right to ask her either. I’ve been sentenced to thirty days in purgatory all because I’m a dumb ass. Telling her that I don’t want to be done now will only look like a desperate ploy on my part. Thank you very much, Married Blind, for screwing up my plan.

  Bronx and Rebekah laugh, as they stand ready at their red hippo—the hippo color I wanted—but not before he turns and winks. Is he winking at Joey or me? I can’t be sure, but either way that gesture is enough to piss me off even more.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  In this moment I want Joey to take ahold of my shirt in her fist and yank me to her. I want to hear her tell me I have nothing to worry about. I want to feel her lips press against mine in a gesture meant for only us. But she doesn’t. Joey stands in front of me matching my posture with an angry scowl on her face. I know I’m in the wrong, but refuse to admit it.

  “I told you I don’t like pink.”

  “Since when?”

  I shrug and look away, acting like a disinterested child.

  “Unbelievable,” she mutters as she turns away from me.

  I have feeling that any progress we’ve made these past few weeks is now swirling down the toilet and it’s not even Bronx’s fault. He’s the just catalyst for my self-destruction.

  “Listen,” I say when I come to stand behind her. I press my body into hers and she goes rigid. “Joey?” I try to sweeten my voice, to show her the desire I feel when I’m near her, but she doesn’t budge. “Let’s win this one, okay?”

  Joey doesn’t respond. She just stands there waiting for our instructions even though the game looks fairly self-explanatory.

  “Now that everyone has met each other, let’s begin.” Patrick’s voice over the loud speaker annoys me, but I can’t let that show on my face. It’s game time and even if Joey doesn’t want to win this one, I do.

  As soon as everyone is at their colored hippo, Patrick continues. “Welcome to the live action version of Hungry Hungry Hippos. One of you will lie flat on the skateboard and hold out your bucket while the other pushes you by your ankles. The object is to collect as many matching balls as you can before the bu
zzer. If your hand touches the ground, you’re disqualified.

  “Newlyweds, take your positions.”

  “Do you want to be on the bottom?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her and am instantly rewarded with a smile, even if she does shake her head. I’m just relieved to see that smile.

  “You have no idea,” she mumbles as she gets down on her knees and climbs onto the skateboard. Seeing her like that, on her knees, makes me wish we were somewhere else, and unless we win the master suite the only place we can be alone will be in the shower. Everything we’ve done has been in the shower, minus the one time in bed that is completely foggy as hell. My no sex rule was really, really stupid, but it was a necessary evil.

  “You’re going to have to lean when I say right or left,” I instruct as Joey gets situated on the board.

  “I know, Josh.” Her voice is stern, telling me that she’s annoyed with me. It’s funny how you learn so much about someone in such a little amount of time. Joey bends her legs up so I can hold onto her ankles. I grab them firmly and give her a slight push.

  The timer starts ticking down; giving us fair warning that the game is about to start. I look over at Gary and find him staring at Rebekah. When we’re done, I need to ask him what the deal is between them because they definitely have history. When I glance at Bronx, he’s staring at Joey, fueling my anger toward him and this situation.

  The buzzer sounds and I hesitate briefly before lurching us forward. Joey works the game like a champ, leaning in the direction she needs me to go. We bump and collide with others as she tries to capture all the pink balls that she can, and as much as I want to look and see how the others are doing, I can’t. My focus has to remain on Joey.

  At the sound of the horn, I drop her legs and fall to my knees. I didn’t think it would be exhausting, holding her ankles like that, but it was. I crawl over and sit next to her, waiting while she counts how many pink balls we were able to capture.

  When she’s done, I stand and pull her with me. I put my arm around her, tugging her into my side. She relaxes into me and I use this opportunity to place a kiss on her forehead. “You kicked ass,” I tell her, praising the job she’s done. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to stay on the board.

  “Thanks. I just hope it’s enough to win.”

  “Me too.”

  “Newlyweds, was that as fun to compete in as it was to watch?”

  I want to say no, but I grumble a somewhat positive response.

  “Cole and Mille, how many yellow balls do you have?”

  “We have eighteen yellow balls,” Millie replies as I look at our bucket. I’m confident we’ve beaten not only them, but Gary and Amanda as well. When I look toward Bronx, he’s smirking. We can’t see into each other’s buckets, and that’s a bit unnerving to me. All I know is that we need to have just one more than they do.

  “Joshua and Joey, how many pink balls do you have?”

  I chuckle like a child because it seems like Patrick Jonas likes to draw the word out longer than he needs to.

  Joey glares at me before clearing her throat. “We have twenty-four pink balls.”

  I bite my tongue when she answers for fear she may end up stabbing me later on when no one is looking. There’s an audible sigh as Cole and Millie walk off the game platform.

  “Josh and Joey, you’re currently in the lead.” I throw a fist pump into the air just for the viewers.

  “Gary and Amanda, how many green balls do you have?”

  “We have twenty green balls.” As soon as Amanda answers, they’re stepping off the platform before Patrick can go through his spiel. Now all eyes are on Bronx and Rebekah. My thinking is that they wouldn’t want to win the first competition because that could pit the house against them. But this is Bronx Taylor we’re talking about, and he doesn’t care who he steps on to get to the top.

  “Bronx and Rebekah, how did you enjoy your first competition?”

  “It was lovely, thank you.”

  “She seems very prim and proper,” Joey whispers and I nod agreement, but not before I wonder why Joey cares.

  “Tell us, how many red balls were you able to capture?”

  Rebekah looks over her shoulder and beams at Bronx, causing my stomach to lurch. “We have twenty-five red balls,” Bronx states all too smugly for my liking.

  “Crap,” Joey mutters as she takes my hand to walk us off stage. I tune out Patrick and his celebratory congratulations to the happy couple. Rebekah’s squealing is enough pain for my ears.

  “Houseguests may return inside.” The black screen starts to lift as we wait to go back in. None of us are in the mood to talk to Bronx and Rebekah, at least those of us who are of the male species. Amanda is yapping his ear off and all I can think is thank heavens it’s him and not me right now.

  When we step in, the house has changed. The couches are gone, having been replaced by loveseats and, in addition, the first picture taken of each of us as married couples are on the wall. Millie walks over to hers and traces around the edges.

  “They’re going to survive this,” Joey says as she walks over to the photos. I want to tell her that we will, too, it’ll just take some work, but I don’t think she’d believe me.

  I wander down the hall and into the red room. I’m hoping Joey and I can just stay in here since we never packed our belongings. I’d rather not fight for a room tonight.

  A room?

  Stepping back into the hall, I walk toward a new opening. Sure enough while we were playing outside, they somehow brought another room into the house. The wonders of Hollywood magic never cease to amaze me. This room is green and reminds me of grass; definitely not one I want to be in.

  I turn at the feeling of a hand on my shoulder. Bronx is standing behind me with a smug look on his face.

  “What?”

  “Tsk, tsk, Wilson. I’m here to win,” he says as he walks away. Before he rounds the corner, I swear I hear him say your woman.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” I exclaim as Bronx pulls me into his arms. I know to viewers it’s going to look like I followed him down the hall, but the hall just happens to lead to the bathroom and that’s where he found me. He sets me down, brushing lose hairs away from my face.

  “I didn’t know you were on the show until they made me watch every episode.”

  Bronx and I spent hours studying for exams and writing papers together. We had three of our four classes together our first semester. I had a crush, but when he left it faded.

  “I can’t believe you’re married,” he says, stepping back and apprising me. “It really agrees with you.”

  I want to tell him thanks and that I’m in love, but admitting the latter is far too painful so I shrug and hope my facial expression tells him everything he needs to know.

  “You’re married, too!”

  “Yeah, Rebekah and I have been married for about two months.” I don’t know if it’s game play or not, but it seems odd that we’ve all been married the same time.

  “I’m so happy you’re here. It’ll be nice having a friend in the house.” I sit up on the counter, watching as he looks everything over. When he dropped out he said he’d keep in touch, but never did. It didn’t take long for him to make a splash and cause a few waves, but it’s a go big or go home type of world. “Tell me about your wife.”

  He shrugs, and stands in front of me. “Met her at church.”

  “You go to church?” I ask, raising my eyebrow.

  “I did while I was filming my last movie. It looked inviting, and I found it to be so much more.”

  “Interesting.” I hop down when I hear voices starting to filter down the hall. The last thing I need is to be caught in a compromising situation with Bronx. Since his arrival only hours ago, Josh’s demeanor has changed. I know there’s a story there, and it has to do with Jules. At one point, Jules was rumored to be dating Bronx and another guy, but by the time the rumor started to stick, she was with Josh only to not be with him again. Honestly, thei
r relationship has been nothing but a Hollywood train wreck.

  Amanda and Millie come in, both eyeing me. I turn to face the mirror, better to watch my back that way, and pretend to fix my hair. Amanda is all over Bronx, touching his arm and chest, laughing as if he’s said something funny. I don’t want to watch her fawn over my friend. I’ll leave the daggers and hair pulling to Rebekah.

  I follow Millie out and into the backyard where Gary is in the corner talking to Rebekah. It only takes her a second to realize that people are watching before walking toward us. “Everything is odd with Bronx and Rebekah here,” Millie says as she sits down. Cole walks out with two pitchers of daiquiri, pouring a glass for Millie.

  “I know.” Before I can get comfortable Bronx steps out, followed by Amanda. She sits down in a huff and pulls a full pitcher into her lap.

  “Wanna talk about it?” Millie asks. I’m curious what Amanda’s problem is, but I don’t care enough to ask.

  “Gary and Rebekah have some sort of history. I mean, look at them.” She blatantly points to the corner where they’re talking. From an outsider’s view, yes something is going on, but it’s not like Amanda cares about Gary.

  “What if he cheats?” she whines, earning an eye roll from me.

  “Automatic annulment, didn’t you read the contract?” I ask.

  “Yes, but what about my heart?” she answers mid drink and just in time for Rebekah to head our way. Awkward doesn’t even begin to describe us right now.

  Yeah, I don’t know about that because I’m in my own pickle. Josh walks out with a plate of meat and what looks like potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil. This is why we’re a match. When life stresses me out, I make cake. When he’s stressed, he cooks.

  Bronx walks over to Josh and pats him on the back. I sigh at the sight of both of them standing side-by-side. I’d like to see them in a movie together, but I doubt that will happen any time soon. There’s no mistaking that I’m a fangirl through and through. I watch all the awards shows live with my own predictions of the winners written down and a bowl of popcorn in my lap. I buy the all the magazines, even the tweenie bopper ones with the pullout posters. I’ve camped out, waiting in sub-freezing temperatures just to get an autograph or a chance at a selfie. I’m there at midnight, watching the latest new release and returning the next day to watch it again. I’ve had unrealistic fantasies about the two men standing yards away from me. One is and has always been, since he came onto the scene, my dream come true. The other was short lived and even when he became famous did nothing for me. In my eyes, Joshua is the catch and Bronx is just the side dish.