They head off to another interview room, already looking smitten with each other. Excellent.
“And then I have Tracey and Grant, Maria and Johnny, Lee and Olivia, and Jill and Ken. Please find each other and we’ll be around soon to check on you.”
Everyone finds their partner and quietly disperses. Ariel looks delighted by it all, which kind of worries me. If she wants to see me fail and she’s happy right now, I’ve clearly already done something wrong.
I guess I’ll find out what it is soon enough.
***
Oh my God.
Yep. I’ve well and truly screwed up. Not that I could have known what I was doing. Ariel knew exactly what would happen if she hid all the relevant information I needed to make good pairings. I would inadvertently match up the wrong people and it would make for awesome car crash TV. I know that the format of the show means they all have to date each other anyway, but I was hoping to ease them into it by first giving them someone they were at least a little bit compatible with.
When I head over to Brittany and Blake’s interview room, I find Brittany sitting outside the door staring into space with her arms crossed. Blake is inside, but he already looks defeated.
“What’s going on?” I ask, heading in and sitting down beside him.
“I can’t. I just can’t,” he says softly.
“You can’t what?”
“I can’t date someone who has the complete opposite ideals to me in every way.”
“How are you different? But also, surely you knew you’d be faced with people you wouldn’t normally encounter in your everyday life?”
“Yes, but this is ridiculous! That woman out there stands for everything that’s wrong with the world. She votes for One Nation, she likes to hunt animals, and she thinks we should have more relaxed gun laws!”
“Okaaayyy…I can see how some people might disagree with those things…”
“This is some kind of sick joke, isn’t it?” he rants. “Pair up the vegan activist with the woman whose favourite pastime is shooting defenceless animals!”
I look at him in dismay. “You’re vegan?”
“Uh, yes. I only wrote it down a million times during the application process, because I wanted to make sure they would be able to cater for me if I made it through.”
“I’m so sorry. There was a bit of a mix-up with all the paperwork and we didn’t have access to that information during the initial pairing decisions. I promise we didn’t do this on purpose.”
He looks at the floor, his face gloomy. “I don’t know what I was thinking even applying in the first place. My friend Darren made me do it, but I told him something like this would happen…”
“Let me talk to Ariel and we’ll see what we can do. I mean, you’ll have to hang out with her eventually, but I might be able to arrange someone else for your first date.”
“Thanks,” he says, not sounding hopeful of a positive outcome.
I leave the room and head into the next one. I’m hoping everything’s going okay here.
Wow. This is more than okay. Chelsea and Dean are curled up on the couch together and talking as if they’ve known each other forever.
“Hey, you two,” I say, coming in and crouching down in front of them.
“Oh, hey,” Dean says, seemingly annoyed that I’m interrupting his precious time with Chelsea.
“I take it things are going well?”
“Sorry, what?” Chelsea murmurs, unable to drag her eyes away from Dean.
“Never mind. I’ll leave you guys to talk a bit more and I’ll come back.”
I don’t think they even hear me as I head into the next room.
Tracey and Grant are sitting together on the couch, as far away from each other as possible. The air is filled with a sort of awkward anxiety.
“All good in here?” I ask tentatively.
Grant barely makes eye contact. “Uh, yeah.”
“Are you two getting to know each other?”
Tracey nods, looking like a scared bird.
“I take it you’re both feeling a little shy?”
Tracey nods again.
“Okay, well, I know this is not a normal situation, but you’ll relax as time goes on. I’ll leave you both to it. Pretend the cameras aren’t there. I’ll be back in about ten or fifteen minutes to check on you.”
Grant shoots me a sideways look before staring at the wall. Okay. That situation is going to require a little work.
The next room is worse. Maria and Johnny seem to have both indulged in several early morning mimosas. For God’s sake! It’s not even ten! I remember Ariel talking about Maria being a borderline alcoholic. Of course I would pick the only other one to pair her up with.
“Hi guys. How’s it going?” I ask.
“Fine. I was just, oops…” Maria stumbles forward and somehow spills out of her dress so that one of her nipples is practically staring Johnny in the eye. He notices, and a lazy grin forms across his face.
I glance at the cameraman, horrified. “You didn’t film that, did you?”
He shrugs. “I just give everything to Ariel. She makes the final decision.”
“Please consider not giving her that bit. We need to sober these two up. I’m going to get some coffee.”
I find an intern running frantically about the place and corner her. “Can you please get two large black coffees and take them into Maria and Johnny?”
She nods and hurries off. I’ve only got two other couples to check on, but I’m not expecting much.
When I enter the second-last room, I sense a chilly vibe. “Is everything all right in here?” I ask nervously.
Lee is sitting on the couch, looking relaxed, but Olivia is perched on the other end with a blank stare.
“Olivia?”
She slowly meets my eyes. “Mmm?”
“Can we talk for a minute?” It’s clear that she has a problem with Lee.
She nods and follows me out. I close the door behind us so Lee can’t overhear our conversation.
“Are you feeling uncomfortable because of the cameras?” I ask.
“No.”
“Because of Lee?”
She doesn’t say anything at first.
“It’s okay. You’re allowed to tell me if there’s something wrong.”
She lets out a puff of air. “Look, I really want to do this show. I believe you can find love somewhere like this, but I’m a bit devastated that you paired me up with a racist misogynist.”
I frown. “What did he say?”
“We were talking about our backgrounds and I mentioned how I’m part Thai. And his response was ‘You don’t look like a…’ sorry, I can’t bring myself to say the words. And then he followed it up with ‘It doesn’t matter. Asian chicks are all subservient and I like that.’”
I cover my mouth in horror. “I am so sorry. I promise I didn’t deliberately pair you up with this guy. I was kind of dropped into the situation with limited information. Let me see what I can do and I’ll get back to you.”
She nods. “Do I have to go back in there?”
“It’s up to you. The cameraman will be in there, but if you don’t feel comfortable, just stay out here.”
“Thanks,” she says.
I figure I’ll just check on my last pair and then work out how to sort out this mess. I open the door to the last room and brace myself. Oh. Jill and Ken are sitting on the couch talking politely to each other. They both look up as I enter and smile.
“Everything okay in here?” I ask.
“Yep,” they say in harmony and then laugh.
“Great. Keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll be back a bit later.”
I head over to where I left my folder and flick through it again. I feel like I’ve been sprung with a surprise exam that I haven’t studied for. Worse still, someone is actively trying to make me fail.
Ariel glides on by, sipping a coffee. “How’s it going, my star consultant?” Her eyes are glinting, p
roving how much she’s enjoying the chaos unfolding.
“I’m, uh, not sure a lot of my pairings are working,” I admit.
“On the contrary. This is all gold. We’ve got more dramatic footage in the first half hour than I would have got on my own. You picked the perfect pairs for maximum drama. Well, except for boring old Jill and Ken over there. But I’m sure once we pair Jill with Lee and Ken with Brittany, things will change.”
“Yeah, about that. I don’t think Lee should be a part of the show. He’s racist and sexist, and I don’t think that’s the kind of message we want to be promoting.”
“Pfft. You and your moralising. This. Is. A. Reality. Show. Everyone who signs up knows what they’re letting themselves in for. If they read their contracts, they’d see they signed their lives away the second they entered the studio.”
“But when I was talking to Patrick…”
Ariel cuts me off. “I don’t give a crap what you and Patrick talked about. I let you have your little moment in the sun the other day, but that’s over now. Patrick may have decided you’re his pet project, and I’m still sure it’s because you’re fucking him, but this is my show. I have the final say.”
I sigh in exasperation. “For the last time, I am not sleeping with Patrick. But he did hire me, because he wants to try something new.” I almost let it slip that he was thinking of cancelling the show, but I catch myself in time. “We shouldn’t be in competition with each other.”
“Sweetheart, to be in competition with each other implies that I consider you an equal, when I do not. But clearly you do.” She storms towards the door. “You know what? I’m not doing this shit. You’re in charge.”
I watch as she leaves. I don’t know if she’s serious, or how long she intends to keep this up, but I can’t say I’m particularly upset. I know I’m not qualified to do her job, but at least this will give me some time to resolve the casting issues without having her standing around gloating.
I take a deep breath and head back into room one. There are a lot of fires to put out.
TWENTY-ONE
Okay, so it turns out I’m not very good at putting out fires. I used to be great at negotiating with people in real estate, but reality show contestants are a whole different breed.
Firstly, there’s not really any financial incentive to use against them. They’re not getting paid to be on the show. In fact, some of them had to give up their jobs, either permanently or temporarily without pay to be here. Secondly, they all have massive egos. Well, most of them do. Tracey and Grant are the exception. You’d think I’d be able to use that to my advantage somehow, but they all have that fake humility thing going on—so I can’t even promise them more airtime, because they pretend it’s not important. And thirdly, I don’t have the benefit of anyone in the industry to ask for guidance. In real estate, I had Mum and Dad, plus the twins to run ideas by if I found myself in a tough situation. Here, Ariel has gone AWOL and the other producers are avoiding me like I have some sort of contagious disease. I guess they think if they help me, Ariel will punish them later.
We were supposed to be finished with initial interviews by early afternoon, but when I asked to look at some of the raw footage, we had almost nothing to work with. At least nothing I would feel proud to broadcast.
I tried to bridge the gap with Brittany and Blake and make them find something in common, but they literally are complete opposites in every sense of the word.
On top of that, Chelsea and Dean have disappeared. I mean, physically gone, and no one can find them.
Tracey and Grant can’t seem to get over their shyness and alternate between staring at the floor and ceiling. I’m not even sure they know what each other looks like.
Maria and Johnny, despite downing large black coffees, seem to get sloppier as the day goes on—to the point where they’re both half naked and rubbing themselves up against each other. I order the cameraman to stop filming and leave them. He argues at first, but after I threaten to call Patrick, he shrugs and finally takes a break.
I don’t know what to do about Lee. He shouldn’t be here, but I don’t know if I have the power to replace him. So for now, I just let Olivia sit wherever she’s comfortable.
And while Jill and Ken are easy to manage, they don’t make for good TV, with their bland conversations about the secret to perfect bread making, and how cute their nieces and nephews are. I knew it was going to be hard, but I didn’t realise it would be so tricky to create natural situations where people talk about interesting things and develop chemistry organically, without resorting to stunts. I have to admit, I can almost see why Ariel had been relying more and more on staged intervention.
At 3pm, I approach a producer called Mason. He seems to be the most senior around here after Ariel.
“Uh, Mason? Do you mind if we have a quick chat?”
He looks around as if he’s looking for an excuse to turn me down, but doesn’t find one. He sighs. “Fine.”
“I want to apologise for…everything. When I took this job, I thought I would just be helping out Ariel and tagging along to see what you guys did. I didn’t mean for it to turn out the way it has.”
“Honey, you need to understand, Ariel hates to have her authority challenged, and you are a constant reminder that Patrick can do whatever the hell he wants. My advice is to just stay out of her way when she comes back.”
“Do you think she’s doing a good job?” I ask timidly.
He laughs. “My opinion doesn’t count.”
“Well, it does since she left me in charge. I know I can’t do this job on my own, so I want to work with you—and the other producers—in a collaborative way.”
He looks at me suspiciously. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“It means you just do whatever you normally do, but maybe run any new ideas past one of the other producers to see what they think. It doesn’t have to be me. And all I ask is that you guys maybe consider a few of the suggestions I put forward. I don’t expect you to implement all of them, but just give me a chance.”
He folds his arms. “Like what?”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s one of your suggestions?”
“Oh. Like finishing around five or six each afternoon? I think staff morale would be higher if they knew they had consistent working hours. And the cast would be more receptive if they had a bit of extra downtime.”
He narrows his eyes. “Go on.”
“And I want everyone treating the cast like human beings, not objects.”
He chuckles. “So naïve. So idealistic.”
“But it’s not impossible, is it? To be nice to people?”
His face turns serious. “No, it’s not. And if that’s the extent of your demands, we can work with that. I’ll chat to the others and tell them to give you a break. I can’t promise anything, though.”
I smile, relieved. “Thanks, Mason. Obviously, I’ll have a few other things I’ll want to run past you, but I only want to be treated the same as everyone else. Also, I think maybe you should take the lead while Ariel is away.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Ariel will probably go nuts at both of us if she finds out. She’ll be mad at me for not letting you drown, and you for not following orders.”
“I think the show’s more important than worrying about things like that.”
He nods. “You’re right. It is. Well, if you’re prepared to deal with her wrath, I am too.”
I hold my hand out to shake Mason’s. He takes it and gives me a wry smile.
“Let’s just hope we don’t completely ruin the show before the queen returns.”
***
The rest of the afternoon is only marginally better. While the producers warm to me slightly after Mason talks to them, they don’t suddenly become my best friends—but they do seem to like the idea of finishing a bit earlier. So at 5pm, Mason and I tell everyone to go home, and the ca
st go to the villa for the evening. The show is still a mess, but we’ll just have to try again tomorrow.
“What do you want to do about Chelsea and Dean?” one of the other producers asks me on the way out. “We still can’t find them.”
“Just leave them. We’ll figure it out later.”
I leave the studio completely exhausted, taking the contestant folder home with me and hoping I can use it to solve my problems when I return in the morning.
Jules has already left for the day, so I catch a train home, wondering what one earth I’m doing.
I know I had a small win with Mason and the staff, but there is still a long, long way to go. Maybe I’m not cut out to work in reality TV after all.
***
I stay up until midnight, poring over the contestant folder. It takes me a couple of hours just to get everything into some sort of logical order. I make a lot of notes, and put all the important stuff into a single sheet for each person like I had wanted to do earlier.
It soon becomes obvious that Ariel arranged the information so I would pick the pairs I did. And she also hid important details that would immediately broadcast their incompatibility if I’d seen them.
I know the whole point of the show is to mix unlikely couples together, but I really do feel like the viewers want to watch love stories form. That’s not going to happen if we put a redneck conservative with a vegan activist. They need to have the same core values.
By the time I give up for the night, I’m still not quite sure what I’m going to do, but I feel I at least have the complete picture now.
I set my alarm for 6am and am determined to get in before anyone else in the morning.
But when I show up at 7am, it turns out Ariel has beaten me there. I wonder if that means she’s taking her job back.
“Morning,” I say cheerfully, pretending I was expecting her.
“I’ve been checking up on you,” she says without preamble.
“Um, okay. And what did you find?”
“I discovered that you were fired from your last job for non-performance.”
My mouth falls open. “What?”
“And I was also told you weren’t a team player and didn’t achieve your sales targets.”
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