“I swear, if I ever find out you were lying…”
“You’ll what, Jeff? What are you going to do? Are you threatening me now?”
“No,” I said, my mood darkening. I knew I was treading on thin ice and as much as I wanted to lay into Lee, I had to be careful. Like him or dislike him, he was still my boss and I still had a job to do. It would only make my life worse if I pushed this any further.
“Look, I’m not going to take anything you’re saying right now to heart because I know you’re upset,” he said and though he meant for it to be comforting, I only heard patronization. My blood pressure spiked again but I bit back the comment I wanted to say in favor of something more tame.
“I am upset. How couldn’t I be?” I asked.
“I understand. Like I said, I get it. That being said… are you going to be OK to cover the speech tonight?” he asked. My heart lurched at the thought like I hadn’t been asking myself the same thing all night long the night before.
I took a deep breath and tried to collect myself before I answered. I was torn. On the one hand, I desperately wanted to see Kile so I could try and change his mind, but on the other hand, I didn’t want to reopen the wound. Regardless of all of that, though, I was a professional and I was on a contract to finish this stupid series, so I’d finish it.
“I’ll be fine,” I said in as level a voice as I could manage.
“Are you sure?” Lee asked. “I can send Ross and the crew without you. You don’t really need to be there, anyway. It’s totally up to you.”
“No. I’ll do my job. Ross and the rest would be lost without a sheep herder to tell them what to do and how to do it,” I said and he chuckled.
“True enough. I knew you’d tough this out. I’m proud of you,” he said and I smiled and nodded though I didn’t take his compliment to heart.
“Thanks,” I said, struggling to maintain the even tone of voice I’d been going for.
“Look, I know this sucks ass right now and hurts like hell, but if it’s any consolation, I think when this is all over and the dust has settled, you’re going to look back at this moment as one of the best to ever happen to you,” he said, his smile broadening as he leaned forward.
“You’re right,” I agreed, though I doubted he was. If anything, I’d look back on this as one of the worst things to ever happen to me, and that included my on-air meltdown a few weeks earlier that’d cost me everything I’d spent ten years building.
“And once this documentary gets out there and flexes your journalistic muscle to the general public, I think you’re going to be glad that you did it and that it turned out the way it did. People are going to be blowing up your phone wanting to talk to you. I might not be able to convince you to stay here,” he said.
“You will,” I said. Truthfully, I wanted to walk out of NewSpin once this was all over and never set foot in the building again. I wanted to forget that this part of my life had ever happened and I was looking forward to future job offers that may or may not come. Maybe they’d take me out of D.C. and as far away from all of this as possible.
“Feel any better?” he asked after a few moments of silence had passed.
“Yeah, a little bit,” I lied.
“Good. I figured hashing this all out might take a load off of you. Keep your head on straight, Jeff. We’re almost there, but we’ve got work left to do to really knock this out of the park. I’m counting on you and so is everyone else,” he said.
“I know. I won’t let you down,” I said and I meant it, though it wasn’t to make him happy or to make him look good. I thought only of myself and where this might take me if it went well, because I didn’t have any other options once the news about Kile and me broke.
“I’m glad to hear it. Now, there’s one other thing we need to talk about since we’re running up against it,” he said and my anxiety returned.
“What’s that?”
“The premiere. We’ve got some big stuff lined up for this and I want it to go well. I don’t need to know details, but I do need to know if you and Avery are going to be OK appearing together in a live setting,” he said. Jesus, this just keeps getting better, I thought.
“We’re going to have to be, aren’t we?” I asked and he chuckled.
“‘Atta boy!” he shouted, slapping the desk and making me jump. “Cameron’s coming home next week and he’s already agreed to be the host for the premiere. He’s super excited to meet the two of you,” he continued and I had to search my thoughts for a moment before I realized who he was talking about.
“What’s he been doing all of this time, anyway?” I asked, almost sure I didn’t really want to know the answer.
“He’s been making a piece on Bollywood,” Lee answered. Of course, that’s perfect, I thought disdainfully. “You’re not the only one we’re exploring documentary stuff with.”
“Cool. I’m looking forward to seeing it,” I lied, knowing full well I’d never watch it willingly.
“So am I. Speaking of, I actually need to call him really quick… are you going to be OK if I let you back out there?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I said, jumping at the opportunity to get the hell out of his office and away from him.
“Great,” he said, already picking up the phone. I stood and made to leave but he called after me.
“Yeah?” I asked, turning back.
“Go home and get some sleep. I can’t have you looking like you’ve been beaten on camera,” he said.
“Yeah, I’ll do that,” I said. I doubted I’d actually be able to sleep, but I appreciated the chance.
“Oh, and good luck tonight,” he continued.
“Thanks, I’m sure I’m going to need it,” I said and he smiled sadly at me before punching numbers on his phone. He had no idea how true it was.
No matter what happens tonight, I’ve got to keep my head on straight, I told myself as I crossed the newsroom back to Dylan’s desk to grab what little amount of things I’d brought with me. It’s going to be tough, no doubt about it, but I can do it, I said, wondering if I really could.
22
Kile
“You don’t have to do this,” Joel said, watching me in the mirror as I put the finishing touches on my makeup. I’d asked him to come tonight as support, though I hadn’t told him the whole truth behind why I needed that support, and now I regretted asking him.
“Yes, I do,” I said, though I definitely didn’t want to. In one day I’d lost it all—Jeff, my career, everything—and it wouldn’t be long before people saw the tabloid photos and started reposting and sharing them online. The Flame hadn’t yet been flooded with hate mail but it wouldn’t be long. Still, if I wanted to get through this with any shred of my career left intact, I had to go out on that stage and deliver this stupid speech, no matter how badly I wanted to avoid it.
I applied more makeup to the dark circles that had formed under my eyes thanks to the sleep I hadn’t gotten last night after Jeff left. Thankfully, the stage was primarily lit from the floor, which would help minimize the risk of anyone noticing how ghastly I looked. The makeup alone wouldn’t do the trick.
“Why? What do you think it’s going to do for you?” he asked.
“It’ll make me look more respectable.”
“How? How can any part of this prevent the shitstorm that’s about to hit? Why don’t you just cut your losses and cancel this thing? It’s not too late,” Joel said.
“Yes, it is. The room is already three quarters of the way full and I’m not scheduled to go on for another ten minutes,” I said. “Imagine how much worse it’ll make me look if I cancel after almost everyone is already here. They’ll be livid, then they’ll see the photos of Jeff and me and really go to town on me.”
“So what? It isn’t always about what the public thinks, Kile. You’ve got to take care of yourself, too,” he said, his hand reaching out to rest on my wrist and pull the makeup pad away from my face. Yeah, I’ve tried not giving a shi
t what the public thinks, and look how that worked out for me, I thought, the images on the front cover of the tabloid flashing in front of my mind for the millionth time.
“I am taking care of myself. I’m not at home clammed up, drinking alone, and feeling sorry for myself. Instead, I’m doing something about it,” I said, knowing it wouldn’t convince him because it didn’t even convince me.
“Are you ever going to tell me everything?”
“The tabloid doomed both of us. That’s really all there is to it,” I said.
“I still can’t believe this, all of this,” he said. “And I can’t believe how well you’re holding yourself together. I’d be a fucking mess if I were in your shoes.” Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean I’m not a fucking mess, too, I thought. I didn’t dare hope Jeff wouldn’t be in the audience tonight because I knew he would be, sitting there with his stupid pen and paper, like the journalist with a job to do that he was.
Thinking of his face closed my throat as tears threatened to spill out of my eyes and ruin my makeup. This should never have happened, I thought, trying to steel myself. I should never have agreed to do this stupid documentary, should never have spent time with him alone, should never have allowed him to get inside my head. But I had and there was nothing I could do to change it.
What’s done is done, I told myself. Right now I need to focus on my career, or what’s left of it. When I saw Jeff, because I knew he’d make sure I did, I wouldn’t make the mistake of letting him in my head yet again. I’d stay strong and keep my distance—I had to.
“Are you OK?” Joel asked. For a moment, I’d forgotten he was there.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“It’s easy to see what you want to see, even if it isn’t really there,” I said and he laughed.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Just switch yourself off like that.”
“Necessity is the mother of invention,” I said, turning in my chair to him. He searched my face, a sad smile on his. “Don’t do that. Don’t you dare pity me or feel sorry for me. I don’t need it and I sure as hell don’t want it.”
“Hey, just because you’re a robot with your feelings doesn’t mean all of us have to be,” he said.
“Mr. Avery, are you ready?” a man dressed in black asked, thankfully interrupting the conversation I didn’t want to have.
“As ready as I can be,” I answered and the man nodded.
“Follow me, then,” he said. I stood from the chair and Joel grabbed my forearm as I passed. I looked down at him without a word.
“Kile, it’s not too late.”
“It’s far too late,” I said and shrugged off his hand to follow the stagehand. He led me around a corner and stopped me just at the edge of the curtain. The stage gleamed in the light before me and my nerves flared up. I swallowed, hard, closed my eyes and took a deep breath to prepare as the stagehand wired me up with a microphone. I can do this. It’s no different from all the other times I’ve done it, I told myself as a voice filled the room, announcing the start of the show. That’s it. It’s a show, an act. Just get through it.
“And now, please everyone welcome Kile Avery,” the voice said and the stagehand gestured for me to step out. I walked out onto the stage to cheers and applause, wondering if they’d still applaud for me once they laid their eyes on the tabloid. Still, I waved and clapped along with them. It’s an act. All just an act, I reassured myself.
“Thank you so much,” I said, my voice filling the room and surprising even me. “Please, please, take your seats everyone,” I said, and though a few people remained standing and cheering, the majority sat down. And then I spotted Jeff. Three rows back, dead center. He hadn’t been standing, hadn’t been clapping, so I hadn’t seen him, but now there was no mistaking his silver-blond curls and piercing blue eyes. I froze, and all of the resolve I’d been trying to build up leaked out of my mouth along with the breath I’d let out at the sight of him. It’s fine. I knew he’d be here. Just go, get started, I told myself as I scrambled.
“Thank you all for coming tonight,” I said. “It means a lot to me,” I continued, driveling at this point, but I needed the time to gather my thoughts. The buzzing of the bright lights on the floor in front of me filled the silence and my head for a few moments until I remembered what to say and decided how I’d say it.
“Love is bullshit,” I said, the same way I’d started the last of these things, only this time the truth of it had taken on an entirely new sting. The audience laughed, as I knew they would, and a few clapped and whistled to show their agreement. “I’m kind of famous for saying that these days, aren’t I?” I asked to more laughter.
I paused and stole a glance at Jeff, who wore a smirk as he scribbled something on his paper. A glint caught my eye and I squinted to find Ross and two other cameramen standing at the back of the auditorium. This is the last time. The very last time, I told myself.
“But I have to be honest. I didn’t always believe that. It’s a pretty radical thing to say and believe,” I continued, more to distract myself from Jeff and the camera crew than for any other reason.
“For a while, for the better part of my life, actually, I thought that love was what we were all supposed to be aiming for. That’s certainly what I’d been taught to believe, anyway,” I said. “And then I got cheated on,” I continued, to boos and jeers. “I know, I know. Screw the guy who did it,” I laughed. But at that moment, I couldn’t even picture Brandon’s face, much less feel angry toward him. All I could see, all I could think about, was Jeff. His eyes were locked on mine and I hoped he knew where I was going next.
“As bad as that moment was—and let me tell you, it was awful—it was nothing compared to what came later,” I said and the crowd fell silent, probably confused about where I was heading with this.
“I thought I’d learned my lesson when I got cheated on. That was when I started posting videos online about love. I suspect most of you have already seen them,” I said. “For about five years, I went on believing that love is, in fact, bullshit. And then I met someone, someone who made me rethink all of that, as much as I resisted him at first,” I said and looked back into the audience to find Jeff staring wide-eyed at me.
“I thought I knew what to do this time around, but I didn’t have a clue. Against my better judgment, I let this guy in, thinking maybe love deserved a second chance,” I said. “And maybe it did. I think I loved that guy, I really think I did,” I continued, my voice cracking, my eyes burning from the tears I fought back. Jeff was mouthing something to me, waving his hands in the air to get my attention, and everything else around me seemed to freeze as I read his lips:
“Don’t do this,” he was saying, over and over again.
“I’m sorry, everyone. I can’t do this. I really can’t,” I said and the people looked at each other, confused and upset, as I stepped off the stage. The stagehand gripped me, trying to convince me not to walk away like this, but then Joel was there tearing the guy’s hands off me. My mind raced, full of shame and guilt and confusion, as Joel steered me backstage but it didn’t matter. I needed to get out of there and fast, before anyone had the chance to see me like this. Before Jeff had the chance to see me like this.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Joel, my voice shaky.
“Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “Do you want to go?”
“Yes, please. I can’t stay here,” I said, and he nodded.
“I’ll pull my car around. Wait here,” he said, helping me sit back down in my makeup chair before he darted away. When he was gone and I was alone, I heard the commotion coming from out in the auditorium. Part of me wanted to go back out and try to right things, to apologize and give the rest of the speech as I’d written it, but I couldn’t. Not as long as Jeff was there.
I should’ve banned him from the event, I thought. I had the power. I could’ve called Lee a
nd demanded he keep Jeff from showing up. I thought I could face him, thought I could stay strong and keep my wits about me, but I was wrong. I didn’t want us to be apart, not really, but it had to be this way.
“Kile?” a voice asked, the last voice I wanted to hear. I turned around to find Jeff standing there, his eyes watering.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “You’re not allowed to—”
“I don’t care. I had to talk to you. I have a press badge.”
“That doesn’t mean I want you here. You’re making this way harder than it has to be.”
“We don’t have to do this,” he said, stepping forward. I leaned back. I didn’t want him to touch me. I was afraid of what it might do, of what I might do, if he did.
“Yes, it does. We were never supposed to be a thing, Jeff. We fucked up by thinking otherwise, and we’re going to pay for it. It hasn’t happened yet, but it will.”
“I talked to Lee,” he said, sidestepping me and catching me off guard. “He didn’t have anything to do with it. He swears he didn’t,” he said and I laughed. I can’t let my guard down, not again, I thought. He’s trying to disarm me, trying to get back in. I can’t let him. For the good of us both.
“It doesn’t change anything. You know as well as I do we can’t do this,” I said.
“Why? Why can’t we? I don’t give a shit about NewSpin, I don’t give a shit about this stupid documentary. All I care about is you,” he said.
“I know, and that’s exactly why we can’t,” I said. “I told you, Jeff, if it weren’t NewSpin, if it weren’t this documentary, it’d be something else. We can’t be together because we were never supposed to be in the first place. God, I hated you then. I can’t ever go back to that, but I can’t be with you, either,” I said and his face fell.
“You don’t believe that. I know you don’t.”
“You don’t know half as much about me as you think you do.”
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