Bronx and Rebekah are with Steven now and I’m able to watch from backstage. They’re playing his version of the Newlywed game and Bronx is struggling to keep his answers PG. Rebekah, of course, is very prim and proper, giggling at just the right moment when Bronx reveals his answers. They make me sick, but in a good way. We’ll be going to dinner tonight, along with our PAs, and I’m hoping that I can get to know Rebekah a bit more. Her time was short in the house, with her entering when the season was almost over, and we didn’t start off on the right foot.
This part of the show ends and Steven is walking off stage. He high-fives his staff, stops in front of me and takes my hand.
“It’s great to meet you, Joey. I’m looking forward to our segment.”
Before I can respond, he’s whisked away and I’m left standing there like an idiot with my hand still sticking out.
“You’d think you weren’t married to a movie star,” Lou says as she pushes my stiff hand back down to my side. “Are you going to hurl?”
I shake my head, and swallow. “I’m fine, just shocked that he even knew my name.”
Lou rolls her eyes and leads me back to the make-up chair. She pushes me to sit and instructs the make-up girl that I have sweat spots that need to be covered on my face.
“Steven is one of the best in the business. He does his research on his guests so he doesn’t have to rely on cue cards. He wants to be personal and make sure you enjoy the interview.”
“That’s good, right? Or not, because he could bring up my ex and I really don’t want to talk about him on TV.”
Lou sighs and sits down on the small counter under the mirror. “He won’t bring up your ex or anything about your life prior to being on the show. Be careful of how you answer, though, because if you were to answer why you went on the show and you say because you found your ex with your best friend, he could run with that. So be mindful.”
“Okay,” I reply, trying not to add a list of things to my already frazzled brain.
“Five minutes.” A man wearing a slew of headgear walks by yelling at everyone. The make-up artist finishes and Lou takes my hand and leads me to the back of the stage where I will walk on. Another person is waiting and starts adding a microphone to my dress and the belt I’m wearing. For a day I didn’t have to wear one, and I already hate it again.
“My next guest scored big on this season’s Married Blind when she found herself kissing none other than Joshua Wilson. Please welcome Joey Wilson.”
I step out, wave at the crowd, and shake Steven’s hand again. He asks how I’m doing while the music plays and he waits for me to sit down before he takes his seat.
“Welcome, welcome.”
“Thank you. It’s so great to be here.”
“So what’s it like to have your life filmed twenty-four hours a day?”
I take a drink of the water that has been set out for me, stalling so I can craft my answer accordingly. “It’s like living under a microscope, and if you’re up when everyone is sleeping, you can hear the cameras moving, or following you. That’s creepy.”
“Are the cameras everywhere?” Steven winks, causing me to laugh.
“Except the master suite.”
Steven pretends to be shocked, but we both know he knows all about the show. From what we were told, he’s a big fan, which is why he brought us all on here. “So let’s cut right to the dirty, …you know, since you brought up the master suite. What’s it like kissing Josh Wilson? I think all those women want to know.” He points to the audience and they start screaming. I can’t help but smile. At least they’re not slinging insults at me.
I bite my lower lip, contemplating how I should respond. For me, kissing him was magical, earth shattering, and way more than I ever thought it would be. Hell, I dreamt about that moment and for it to come true—there are no words. But no one needs to know that.
“Well I guess that would depend on what time of day you’re asking about, Steven.” My attempt at being funny is met with resounding laughter. I’m mentally patting myself on the back for being quick on my feet. Truth is I don’t care what time of day it is, each kiss is better than the last.
“Did you ever expect to be kissing Josh Wilson?”
“Oh gosh, not in a million years. We’re kept pretty much in the dark, pun intended, until after the first kiss. I believe I passed out when I saw him.”
“You did. We have the footage.”
Lovely, just want I want to be reminded of. I turn and watch the clip and everyone sighs when Josh touches my cheek with his hand. As I watch his lips press against mine, my fingers graze my lips, yearning to feel the burn once again. Last week when I saw Josh, I should’ve jumped in his arms and kissed him one more time, just so I had a fresh memory of what it felt like to be kissed by him. As soon as I hit the floor, I can hear the laughter of a few people in the audience. Thankfully there are more ahhs being thrown my way.
“I guess he’s just that smooth,” I say, with a shrug.
Everyone erupts with laughter and cheers. Score one for Joey. I can’t help but maintain my perma-grin. Any fear I had about being on this show has been quickly dissolved. Steven is fabulous.
“How in love are you and Josh?”
“Oh I don’t know. I guess as in love as any couple that spent the past ninety days together.”
“Hmm, I wonder if Josh feels the same way? Let’s see what he had to say this morning.”
No, let’s not because he doesn’t feel the same way, but I can’t say that. The producers have asked that we keep up the pretenses of being married so that people will believe in the show’s magic. This time I turn cautiously in my chair to watch the clip.
Josh’s face lights up the screen, bringing tears to my eyes. I miss him already and it’s only been a week. I don’t know how it’s going to be when I’m not seeing him ever again. This heartache is going to be a hard one to get over. Not because he’s my celebrity crush, but because I truly fell for the man he is. I love who he is on the inside and had hoped we’d have some type of future together.
He’s surrounded by four women I love watching. I even tried getting tickets once, when Josh had a new movie coming out, but to no avail.
“I fell in love,” he says before adding, “You guys are going to love Joey. She’s very excited to meet you all.”
He’s in love?
I’m excited to meet everyone?
Wait … he’s in love?
I wipe away tears that have fallen before turning to face Steven and the crowd again. I refuse to believe the words coming out of his mouth. He’s an actor. It’s part of his job to pretend to be someone he’s not, and I wouldn’t put it past the producers to have put him up to this. They allowed a video message from Jules to air during our time in the house. Surely, they’d ask him to do this.
“Well there you have it folks, Joshua Wilson says he’s in love with Joey.”
Everyone claps, but I can’t help feeling that they’re being forced to do it. As soon as we move into a break, Lou is by my side. She’s excited about Josh’s proclamation of love. I don’t have the heart to tell her that it’s fake, that he’s being forced to say that. Our love for each other is completely one-sided.
My make-up is fixed and one of the production assistants shows me where to stand for the next segment. I picked two songs earlier, Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” and Rick Springfield’s “Jessie’s Girl” for karaoke. I have no idea what Steven has chosen.
Steven joins me on stage, looking fresh and relaxed. I don’t know how he does this multiple times a day because right now I’m not sure I can finish one show.
“All right, it’s time for karaoke. I’ll go first,” he says as he takes the mic in his hand and starts moving to the music of “Footloose”. He dances out the final scene of the movie, much to the audience’s pleasure.
I step up and close my eyes, remembering my practice session in the green room earlier. Once the music starts, I mouth the words to my favorite Gag
a song and get the crowd going. They’re up on their feet, singing with me. When my song ends, I take a bow and hand the mic over to Steven.
“Wow! I don’t know if I can top that, but here it goes.”
“You Give Love a Bad Name” kicks off and Steven whips out his air guitar. Everyone starts laughing, even me. I begin playing the air drums, causing Steven to laugh. When he finishes, he gives me a high-five and tells me to knock them dead.
The beat to “Jessie’s Girl” starts as I take the mic and dance around stage. The show’s band is into it, all playing their own version of air instruments. When I’ve hit my last fake note, Steven is there clapping and telling everyone to have a safe night. We stand there and wave until the cameraman announces that he’s done.
“Thanks for coming on,” he says, as he gives me a hug before disappearing behind the curtain.
And just like that my media tour in New York City is over. In two days, I’ll see Josh and my life will change forever.
This past week has been long, one of the longest of my life. I know that if I were able to talk to Joey, it would make things go faster, but each call went unanswered and each text unreturned. I’m going with the notion that she didn’t bring her phone to New York instead of her ignoring me. I’m trying to think positively.
It’s not working.
My wife thinks I want a divorce. When we first met, I did. The idea of marriage frightens me to no end. Joey deserves happiness. I want to be the one who provides it for her, but I have to learn how.
I stare out my apartment window. My view is nothing spectacular as my apartment is on the second floor and overlooks the community swimming pool. Palm trees offer shade and ambience, but it’s a place I never visit. A few of the college co-eds that live in the building party there often and Rob joins them occasionally, saying they’re fun to hang with. He likes the attention. I get enough of it when I’m on set, I don’t want it when I come home. Right now the only attention I do want is from Joey, and she’s not willing to give it. That means I need to fight for it.
“What time is the car picking you up?” Rob asks.
Glancing at my watch I sigh. “In about twenty minutes.” Rob stands next to me, likely looking at the same scene I am: a mom with her two kids, splashing in the pool.
“Are you nervous?”
Putting my hands in my pockets and feeling the smooth edges of the velvet box I picked up yesterday, I shrug. “Not for the show, but I’m nervous about seeing Joey.”
“What if she says no?”
Rob and I spent last night drinking and gossiping like two women. Words were slurred and truths told. It’s easier to admit that I’m in love with Joey, or falling in love with her. She’s easy to love with her quick wit, killer smile, and the way her body was made to fit mine. I’ve heard that before, the part about a body fitting yours, but didn’t believe it until I held Joey in my arms. The beginning of my end was when I kissed her on stage. The way my body responded to her I knew I was a goner. I just refused to admit it.
“I’m scared of what could be. I drove the point home each time we got close in the house that this was over as soon as the show ended, but in the last month something changed. Every time I thought we were on the same page, another curve ball was thrown at us. First it was Jules and her bullshit video. Then Bronx moved in and if that’s not enough, they freaking know each other. And then there’s Jason. The worst part about Jason is that I had just told her I’d be right back. She won’t return my calls or texts. I have no idea what I’m walking into today.” I lean against the window, clearly feeling sorry for myself, and let out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess if she says no, I file the paperwork and dissolve the marriage.”
The intercom by the door buzzes and Rob goes to answer it. It’s my show-appointed PA telling me the car is here.
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter, as I grab my sport coat, checking my pockets for everything and opening the door. “Wish me luck.”
“You’re Joshua Wilson, you don’t need luck.”
The one thing Rob doesn’t know about is Joey is about her fangirl crush. I’ve kept that to myself for fear he’d say something to piss me off, embarrass Joey when they meet, or tell Jules. I think it’s cute and makes for a fantastic story. I love the fact that I’m her number one because I have to admit that she’s mine as well.
The drive to the studio lot where Helen is filmed is only a few miles from my apartment. The driver takes the side roads, which in LA can cut up to thirty minutes off your travel time. My heart starts racing as soon as we go through the gates. My eyes are searching everywhere for any sign of Joey. The moment the car stops, I’m out and crossing the lot to the nondescript door that is marked only by a stage number.
“Joey,” I call out as soon as I step into the hallway. People turn and look at me, offering me strange looks. My PA is running behind me, her heels clicking on the concrete. She’s on her phone rambling a mile a minute with her arms flaying about. If she’s not careful, she’s going to hit someone.
I turn into the greenroom, and it’s like a weight has been lifted off me. There she is, in a royal blue dress with her hair in curls. Her back is facing me as she speaks to Millie. Cole comes up to me, standing in my line of sight and grabs my hand.
“It’s good to see you.”
Dude, I just saw you a few days ago, is what I want to say, but don’t. “You too, man.”
“I have some news that I need to tell someone before I explode,” Cole says, looking a bit agitated.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
He pulls me into the corner of the room, but my eyes never leave Joey. I hate that she hasn’t turned around to acknowledge me. I’m her husband; she should at least look at me or turn her head when people walk into the room.
“So what’s up, Cole?” I’m not trying to rush him, but damn it if I don’t need to go over and see Joey. I need to make sure she’s real and not a figment of my imagination.
“My mom doesn’t like Mille,” he tells me in a hushed tone.
“Oh.” I furrow my brows because I’m not sure how to answer him or what advice to offer. The fear is there that Joey’s parents won’t like me, but they already said in the video feed that they couldn’t wait to meet me, so I’m banking on them loving me.
“Right, but the kicker is that she’s pregnant.”
“Wow, congratulations, man!”
He shakes his head. “What do I do?”
“Um…” I run my hand over my hair, knowing it’ll be fixed before we’re sent on stage. “Well you’re already married, so I guess you decide who moves in with whom and raise your family.”
Beads of sweat start to pebble on Cole’s forehead and he pulls at his tie. He glances over his shoulder at Millie, who doesn’t make eye contact with him.
“Cole, are you a mama’s boy?” It’s a harsh question and I probably could’ve phrased it better, but sometimes being blunt is the only way to go.
He looks at me sheepishly and gives me a grin turn grimace.
“Ah shit, man, you gotta cut the cord. You’re married and about to have a baby!” I say as quietly as possible. It’s times like this when I think my relationship with Joey is perfect. We don’t have this drama, now that Jules has been set straight, thank God.
“How?”
“Move far away and start your life with Millie. She’s a fucking knock-out and you guys hit it off from day one. Don’t throw that shit away.”
I pat him on the shoulder and step away. When I reach Joey, I slide my hand into hers, smile at Millie, and lean down to whisper in Joey’s ear, “Can we talk?” She doesn’t go rigid like I expect, but doesn’t necessarily hold my hand either.
When she turns to face me, I’m dumbstruck by how beautiful she is. Her hair is framing her face perfectly, and her subtle make-up is drawing attention to her light blue eyes. I could get lost there for hours if she didn’t find staring creepy.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur as the back of my hand
caresses her face. She leans in; the movement is slight, but I feel it. Her eyes close and I can tell she’s fighting her heart and mind. I need her to listen to her heart.
“Josh and Cole, you’re up.” My hand drops the second my name is called. I stare at him with the ‘are you fucking serious right now’ look.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Joey, kissing the tip of her nose before following the assistant to hair and make-up.
As soon as I sit down, my leg starts bouncing. I’m on edge. I’m pissed. I miss Joey. I only need five minutes to pour my heart out before we go out on stage. Why can’t someone throw me a damn bone? I’m sick of being in the doghouse.
“Stop moving,” the make-up artist says and from experience I need to listen or I may end up looking like a cast member from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I’ve seen it happen to Rob, it’s not pretty.
“Three minutes,” the same assistant walks by, yelling into the room.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumble, earning a dirty look from the make-up artist. “Sorry,” I tell her, not wanting to piss her off.
“You’re a pro,” she says. “Your hair and make-up doesn’t take us long.”
She’s right because with one minute to spare, my flaws are hidden and my hair is looking like I just woke up—pretty much like the hair I came in with.
Cole and I are ushered out; he’s still sweating and the make-up artist assigned to him is doing everything she can to keep his face painted. She calls for an ice pack and slips it down his jacket, much to his chagrin. I stifle a laugh and want to pat him on the back, wishing him luck, but feel it’s unnecessary.
We’re seated in order: Cole and Mille, followed by Joey and myself. At least I can press my leg against Joey’s to feel close to her. I change the way I’m sitting so I can put my arm around her and hold her hand with my free one. She doesn’t relax into me, but that doesn’t stop me from kissing her shoulder.
Blind Reality Page 25
