Reality Wedding

by Laura Heffernan

  “How are you, bae?” She rushed toward us, and Birdie reached out her arms. One of the paramedics stepped between them, and Shannon frowned at him. “It’s okay. I’m also the mother.”

  “She’s with me.” Birdie gasped out the words, her face red.

  The paramedic stepped aside, and Shannon moved closer. She grasped one of Birdie’s hands in both of hers, then leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

  “Told you so,” she said.

  “Shut up. You’re doing this next time.”

  “With pleasure.” She straightened and turned back to me and Rachel. The doctors started to wheel Birdie down the hall, and the three of us followed. “As you may have guessed, I’m Shannon. It’s nice to meet you both.”

  Rachel introduced us quickly as we walked down the hall.

  “You’re the one getting married tomorrow?” Shannon asked me. “Are you allowed to be here?”

  I shrugged. “This is where I want to be. I’ve spent all week doing the Network’s bidding. I’m not leaving until the baby’s born or they drag me out.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Birdie said.

  “If you can keep the baby in until around four o’clock tomorrow afternoon, it would help me out,” I joked.

  Birdie flashed a thumbs-up as she disappeared through another doorway. Shannon and the doctors went with her, but Rachel and I sat down to wait. I didn’t have any intention of returning to the fake rehearsal. Although I’d been kidding, I wouldn’t care if we wound up staying through the ceremony. Not when it would take a miracle for Justin to show up.

  As nurses went in and out, muffled voices reached our ears. There wasn’t anything for us to do until the baby was born, so I logged onto the hospital’s Wi-Fi to send Justin and Ed updates.

  Rachel glanced up and down the hall. “Did we just escape the Fishbowl without any production people? How did that happen?”

  “I’m sure they’re here somewhere. Probably followed in another car. I bet Janine is standing at the admissions desk now, trying to get permission to come in with cameras.”

  “So, we’ve got like five minutes to talk while they find the waiver Birdie would have needed to sign?”

  “Something like that. Why?”

  “What’s up with Logan? You’re not really going to marry him, right?”

  After a glance up and down the hall, I told her everything: The agreement between me and Justin. The real wedding that already took place. Justin’s job, the contract, the Network’s threats. How I considered Logan a friend and confidant before he got a marriage license without telling me. By the time I finished, her brown eyes resembled saucers.

  “Physically, he’s attractive. You’re not blind; I can’t deny that,” I said. “He smells amazing. But I never would’ve flirted with him without Justin’s permission. Not even for the cameras.”

  “OMG, hold on a sec.” She pulled out her phone and started swiping frantically.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Something J-dawg said. The two of them were riding over to the house one day, and they were talking about all the ladies Logan used to get, back in the day—he’s such a tool.”

  “Which one?”

  She glared at me for a second before her face relaxed into a smile. “I was talking about Logan. Anyway, J-dawg asked him how he did it. What he did to convince all those women to sleep with him.”

  “Being good looking and charming isn’t enough?”

  “Nope. Hold on.” She stopped swiping and turned her phone toward me. “Look at this.”

  The phone showed an image of a small, glass vial full of an amber liquid. Above it, I had to read the name and description three times.

  “He wears pheromones?”

  “Yup. I thought it was just locker room exaggeration, but it makes sense now. That’s why he always stands so close to you, and why you felt a pull toward him. It’s not physical, it’s chemical.”

  A flood of relief hit me. “That also explains why I didn’t find him remotely attractive when we fell into the pool. The pheromones washed away.”

  “So what happens tomorrow?”

  I shrugged. “Want to marry Joshua?”

  She giggled. “Oh, hell no. I mean, honestly, he is a different person away from the cameras. He’s sweet, he’s sensitive. He’s…amazing in bed.”

  Her revelation didn’t surprise me in the slightest. The air between them had crackled since day one on The Fishbowl. They accidentally locked themselves into one of the changing rooms together the first night. I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear they’d snuck off onto the grounds during the show, either before Joshua’s elimination or after he came back. But I’d never asked, and Rachel was usually pretty private about that stuff.

  “…but?” I prompted her.

  “It’s all physical,” she said. “I thought I’d develop deeper feelings for him over time. But when we’re in public, it’s like hanging out with my obnoxious younger brother. I’m ending things for good after the wedding.”

  “If you want to end things on camera, you be my guest,” I said. “That’s just what this wedding needs—a break-up halfway through the vows.”

  “Think I’ll pass,” she said. “Although I probably would’ve gone for Logan if he’d been genuine.”

  “It’s just as well that Joshua was here and you never spent much time with him. The last thing we’d need is you actually falling for Logan while he was pretending to fall for me.”

  “Truth.”

  The doors at the end of the hall swung open, and Vera appeared, camera already held to her eye. Rachel squeezed my hand, signaling that we’d finish our conversation later. Before going into the delivery room, she recorded quick interviews with both of us.

  Less than a minute after the door closed behind her, it opened again. Vera backed through the door, still holding the camera to her eye. Once she cleared the threshold, Shannon appeared, inches in front of her, backing her farther into the hallway.

  “Nope nope nope,” Shannon said. “I don’t care what Birdie signed. You’re not doing this. Sue us.”

  The door slammed shut, and Vera wheeled around to face me and Rachel. We sat stone-faced, not knowing what to say or do. She dropped her bag on the seat beside us, then set the camera on top. “Guess I’ll go get some coffee. You guys want anything from the cafeteria?”

  We shook our heads, and the doors swung shut behind her. Rachel and I sat in silence, eyes glued to our phones, as if in unspoken agreement not to start any other conversation we didn’t want the Network to overhear. I wouldn’t put it past the Network to leave a recorder taping inside Vera’s bag.

  The clock ticked onward, and nothing happened. No one went through the doors. The heart monitor beeped softly. Vera didn’t return. After a while, I laid on the bench, using my arms as a pillow. Rachel moved the camera bag to the floor, and did the same. It had been a long and emotional week. Almost as soon as I found a comfortable arrangement, I was out.

  Sometime later, the creaking of hinges woke me. The clock on the wall told me it was nearly three o’clock in the morning. A nurse peeked out the door. “Shannon wanted me to tell you two it’s almost time. Mama’s struggling a bit, but both of them should be just fine soon enough.”

  Rachel started to ask a question, but the nurse shook her head. “I’ve got to get back in there. Sorry.”

  In my half-awake state, I couldn’t quite manage to form words, so I smiled a thank you. She nodded as if she understood. Rachel put her head back down on the bench and was snoring softly within seconds. Vera sat farther down the hall by the doors, sipping coffee. When our eyes met, she lifted a second cup from beside her and held it toward me.

  Although a tiny voice reminded me of the breast milk/pot brownies fiasco from Real Ocean, Vera hadn’t been involved in that. Besides, my eyes were already droop
ing again, and she was the one who got Mom when things started to go well with Fake Patrick. The coffee beckoned. I got up, leaned against the wall beside her and accepted the cup gratefully.

  “I’m glad we got some time alone,” Vera said.

  “Me, too, actually. Thank you so much for bringing my mom to the house earlier this week. When I think about what would’ve happened if I’d spent the rest of the week making amends with that actor…” I shuddered.

  “Officially, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She winked at me. “But you’re welcome. I couldn’t watch you grow closer, knowing it was all a farce.”

  “Did the Network forget to remove your soul when you signed up?”

  “Hey, we’re not all bad. You seem cozy enough with Connor, and he’s one of us.”

  “True. Sorry.”

  “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, though. I’ve been hoping to get you alone for days,” she said. “The Network is not looking out for your best interests. They don’t care about you and Justin.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know. Leanna is forcing me to marry a stranger tomorrow.” I sipped my coffee, wondering what worse thing the Network could have planned.

  “It’s not Leanna. It’s Janine. She’s trying to take over, get her own show.”

  “But Leanna’s in charge, right? I don’t trust either of them.”

  “Technically, but Janine’s been pushing her out. She didn’t know about Logan, and Janine told her they found your real dad. That girl’s a snake.”

  After the way I’d been treated, it was tough to dredge up any sympathy for any of the producers. But if what Vera was saying was true, maybe Leanna was more like the cool, friendly PA I’d first met than the cutthroat bitch she now seemed. Or maybe this was a trap. “As far as I’m concerned, they’re in this together. They’re both snakes.”

  “Then why did you agree to do the show with them?”

  With a glance at the camera sitting beside her, I filled her in on Leanna’s conversation with Justin’s boss. Even if the camera were on, which I doubted, the Network would never air me talking about how they blackmailed people into doing their shows.

  Vera held one hand over her mouth until I finished. “That’s ridiculous. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. It’s almost over.” I sipped my coffee again.

  “True, but there’s still something you gotta know.”

  Not that I wanted to look a gift horse in the mouth, but it seemed odd that one of the production assistants would just happen to decide to bare her soul to me. There had to be a catch. This must be some kind of trick, like Logan helping me get a “fake” marriage license that turned out to be real. “Why should I trust you?”

  “I’m quitting,” she said. “This isn’t why I moved to Hollywood. I wanted to make documentaries, deconstruct systemic racism, create movies that changed the world. Not follow some reality diva around—no offense—while the Network manipulated her into ruining her relationship and running away with some trust-fund asshole.”

  “I would never run away with Logan. I don’t know what the Network thinks is going to happen tomorrow, but that’s not it.”

  “They’re brainwashing you,” she said.

  My body went completely still. The Network had done a lot, but invading my mind? No way. “You mean the pheromone-cologne Logan’s wearing? That’s not strong enough to get me to throw everything away for him.”

  “No, listen. Janine made subliminal messages to play while you sleep. ‘Logan is so smart, Logan is so good-looking, Logan is going to make some lucky woman very happy…’ Hella messed-up stuff like that. Pumped into the show’s speaker system, hidden beneath a layer of background music.”

  “No. No way.”

  “Yes way. Listen.” She pulled out her phone and tapped away.

  A few seconds later, music poured out of the speakers, filling the room. The same pop-y, fun type of music they played every night before I went to sleep. She tapped the screen, and the music faded. She turned the volume up, and a whispering voice repeated her words.

  Chills went down my back. I stared at the phone, hands over my mouth, as the words kept playing. Bile rose in my throat, and I leaned my head back against the wall. “Please turn that off.”

  “No problem. Just needed you to hear it.”

  “Have they been playing that all along? Is that why…” Is that why Logan and I kissed? Is that why he’s been affecting me? Because the Network pumped fake emotions into my head and he’s wearing pheromones? There was no way to end that sentence out loud, but Vera saw the conflict in my eyes and answered me, anyway.

  “That’s probably why you’ve been drawn to Logan,” she said. “But I don’t think it’s been all week. They started when Justin’s flight got canceled. I’m not sure. It was Janine’s idea. Maybe the original plan was for you to jilt Justin for Logan, maybe not. But you needed to know.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

  “I just found out. While I was in the cafeteria, I got a text from Janine, asking me to play the music while we sat here waiting. Hell, no, I won’t.”

  “Thank you,” I said. The words seemed woefully inadequate. “Really. Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me. You could lose your job for telling me.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Like I said, I’m out. I didn’t sign up for this shit.”

  “Still. If there’s ever anything I can do to return the favor, please let me know.”

  “Just…be true to yourself. Don’t let the fame go to your head. There’s more to life than reality TV.”

  A lot more to life, like Justin. Like Sweet Reality. Like Sarah and Rachel and Birdie and all my other friends and family.

  “Anyway, I’m outta here,” she said. “I’m not going to intrude on a woman giving birth. Janine wanted me to sneak shots of the actual labor, but eff that. I walked in so I could say I tried, but that’s it. I don’t care what Birdie signed before coming on the show; some things are private. Someone else can interview her and Shannon in the morning. Have a good one.”

  I thanked her again, and she stood, stretching.

  Vera’s coffee cup swished into the trash can by the door, and a moment later, she was gone. I remained leaning against the wall, not moving, staring at the still-swinging door. The coffee cup grew heavy in my hand, and I let myself flop down in the spot Vera vacated on the bench lining the wall.

  The Network brainwashed me. If Birdie hadn’t gone into labor, I’d be sleeping right now in a fancy hotel they arranged, dreaming of Logan with no idea about the garbage they pumped into my head. Was a few nights enough? Would their plan have worked? What if I’d gone on camera and promised to love, honor, and obey Logan because of the Network’s interference? If I’d signed the marriage license, they would have made me commit a felony. For ratings.

  It didn’t matter that no one knew Justin and I were already married. Messing with my mind, with my emotions, with my free will, was wrong. Right then and there, I made a decision.

  Tomorrow morning, I’d go back to the house. But I wasn’t going to play along anymore. I was going to walk down that aisle, turn around, face the cameras, and flat-out refuse to cooperate. Even if Justin showed up, no way in hell we’d marry on TV now. Then I was going home, to be with my husband, who would never, ever be Logan Cassidy, no matter what anyone said or did.

  Behind the door, Birdie screamed, jolting me out of my revenge fantasy and reminding me that something much more important than a fake wedding was happening about fifteen feet away.

  Rachel bolted upright on the bench, eyes wide. “What happened? Is she okay?”

  “I don’t know. The nurse said not much longer about half an hour ago.” My voice trembled. Through all the contractions on the way here, Birdie plastered a smile on her face. When she fell and broke her ankl
e, she didn’t scream like that.

  Another moan sounded from beyond the wall.

  I started toward the door, but Rachel pulled me back down. “There’s nothing you can do in there. You’d just be in the way.”

  Birdie’s voice trailed off through the doors. More muffled voices. I couldn’t make out any of the words. Overhead, someone said, “Code ninety-nine. OB. Room three. Code ninety-nine. OB. Room three.”

  “I don’t suppose ‘Code ninety-nine’ means ‘the baby is here’?” Rachel asked.

  The doors at the end of the hall swung open. Nurses came rushing through, wheeling a cart behind them. They spoke in such a rush, I couldn’t make out complete sentences. Crashed. Mother. Baby. My blood pounded in my ears.

  They opened the door to Birdie’s room and pushed the cart inside. I took a step forward, but one of the nurses turned to me. “Authorized personnel only. Sorry.”

  The door swung shut. I still couldn’t hear Birdie’s voice. Or a baby.

  “No, Rach, I don’t think ‘Code ninety-nine’ is good at all.”

  Chapter 21

  Confessions from the Chapel, Friday night:

  Tina: I hope Jen knows what she’s doing. You never get a second chance to get your wedding pictures done. What if she has bags under her eyes? This is horrible timing on her friend’s part.

  Logan: I’m not worried at all. She’ll be back. How long can it possibly take to have a baby?

  Hospital Cam, two hours earlier:

  Shannon: Get that *beep*camera out of my *beep* face, or I’ll break both of you. Out, out, out. Now.

  My heart skipped a beat as the significance of what we’d seen crashed down around me. Rachel and I clasped hands, unable to speak. A tear trickled down the side of her face. I couldn’t breathe. I forced myself not to look at her. Any more tears, and I’d lose it, too.