“We can’t have this show fail now. And clearly no one is taking the initiative to actually do something to fix this mess. So I’m going to try.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks. I think I’m going to need it.”
***
Gemma Stiles is a petite brunette with wild curls that frame her elfin face. I like her immediately. I hope that feeling continues.
It’s eleven when she shows up at the villa, ready to take notes for her exclusive piece that will hopefully counteract all the negativity that the book has generated.
I’ve been expecting her, so I meet her at the door and hold out my hand to shake. “Hi, Gemma? I’m Lauren.”
She shakes my hand firmly. “Hi, Lauren. Thanks for inviting me.”
“Okay, so I’m going to get straight to the point. Obviously, the new book makes us look bad. I want to prove to you that we don’t operate like that anymore.”
She opens her notebook and holds a pen poised over the top. “But you’re admitting you were like that in the past?”
“I can’t say for sure, because I wasn’t employed by the show until recently, but yes, I did witness a few slightly uncomfortable auditions when I was employed as a receptionist.”
She scribbles down a few notes. “You went from receptionist to consultant?”
“Yes.”
“What timeframe are we talking? How long were you on reception?”
“Not long. I was very lucky to be offered a consultant role quite soon after I started at the studio.”
“And how do you think you managed that?”
“I guess it was partly that I had previously worked with Patrick James on another project…” I know classifying a mobile phone deal as a project is taking it a bit far, but I also don’t want to become the subject of the article. I want Gemma to see how everyone is contributing to the show’s culture.
“Okay.” She writes a few more notes. “And what skills do you bring to the table?”
“I have a background in real estate and telecommunications, both which require a high level of negotiating and communication.”
She smiles. “I’ll bet. But you don’t have any formal qualifications in journalism or film studies?”
“Nope. But then working on a reality show is more about creating good content. And you get that by understanding the people you work with. Also, I’m a long-time viewer of the show, so I know what has worked in the past, and what hasn’t.”
“Interesting.” She keeps scribbling. “Do you mind giving me a tour after I’ve finished talking to the cast? Between you and me, I’ve always been a fan of the show. It’s kind of thrilling to finally peek inside the villa.”
I hide a smile. I knew I picked the right journalist for this job.
“Sure. I was the same when I first arrived. It’s a bit surreal, finally being here in person.” I lead her into the living room, where some of the contestants are chatting.
Mason walks past and shoves a document in my hand. “Get her to sign this as a precaution,” he whispers in my ear.
I skim it over and see that it’s a confidentiality agreement. I hand it to Gemma. “If it’s okay, before we begin, I’ll need you to sign off saying you won’t post any spoilers. And as a courtesy for landing the exclusive, we’d like to read your article before it goes live.”
“I can do that. But you also need to let me write honestly.”
I hesitate, but figure it’s worth the risk. Besides, the cast and producers shouldn’t have anything bad to say now. I hope.
“Okay.” I turn to the cast. “Hey, guys. This is Gemma. She’s writing an article for Network Gossip. She might want to ask some of you about your experience on the show.”
They look at her interestedly. I know most of them are starting to get cabin fever, so any new faces are a novelty. I don’t blame them. Even though I’m allowed to leave each evening, I’m sick of the villa. I would hate to lose access to the outside world for six weeks. But I also think the comparison to prison is a little over the top.
I watch as Gemma sits down next to Ken and starts asking him about his time in the villa. That’s when Ariel marches in. She takes one look at Gemma and raises both eyebrows at me. “Kitchen, now.”
I follow her in. Jeez, she can be dramatic sometimes.
“Who the fuck is that?” she asks.
“Gemma Stiles from Network Gossip.”
“And what the hell is she doing here?”
“Interviewing the cast,” I say calmly.
“And who gave you the authority to allow that?”
“Another producer and I decided. I tried calling both you and Patrick this morning, but neither of you answered. So I took a calculated risk…”
“And how did you choose her? Did you go through an official selection process?”
“There wasn’t time. I trusted my gut…”
“Your gut?” She throws up her hands. “Oh, well, if that’s what your gut told you to do, that’s all that matters.” She whips out her phone. “Wait until Patrick hears about this. You know, one time I tried to get a journalist in during filming and he almost had me fired? And I had vetted a dozen publications before I selected the exact one I knew would act as our puppet. He didn’t care. No one from the media comes in during filming. Ever.”
My earlier bravery starts to fade. Shit. Is Patrick going to be mad?
“Yeah, hi, it’s me,” Ariel says into her phone. “I just thought I’d update you on what your little consulting genius has done this morning.”
I assume he says “What?” because her next words are “She brought a tabloid reporter into the villa. Who is now interviewing the cast without supervision.”
She’s quiet for a second and then thrusts the phone at me. I almost don’t want to take it.
“H-hello?” I say, holding the handset a few inches from my ear just in case he starts yelling.
“Lauren, Lauren, Lauren. What’s going on?”
He doesn’t sound angry. But he doesn’t sound happy either.
“I, uh, didn’t know how strict you were with the no media rule. I just saw that we were being eaten alive and I wanted to give someone an opportunity to come in and see for themselves that we didn’t operate like the book claims.”
“Do you remember that I said I was taking care of it?”
“I do. And I’m sorry. I thought maybe whatever I did would complement your strategy…”
“My strategy takes time. And you shouldn’t have gone behind my back, or Ariel’s.”
“I’m sorry,” I say in a small voice. “I did try calling you and Ariel, but I couldn’t reach you. So I discussed it with one of the senior producers instead.” I glance up at Ariel and see she’s standing there, looking like a big sister taking satisfaction in her younger sibling’s punishment.
He sighs. “Okay. But this is on you if it backfires.”
“I know. And I’ll take full responsibility if it does.”
He laughs. “And how will you do that?”
“I don’t know. I’ll quit? Track down the journalist and make her force a retraction?”
His laugh gets louder. “Lauren, you are going to be the end of me. Look, I have to go. But tell Ariel I’ve sufficiently reprimanded you and you won’t do it again. Tell her I’ve approved the journalist, but just this one time.”
“All right, thank you. And sorry again.”
I hang up before he can change his mind.
“He said the journalist can stay this one time.”
Ariel rolls her eyes. “I should have known he’d take your side. You must be damn good in bed for him to treat you this way.”
I know she’s just angry, so I ignore her. “I’m going to go and check on the interview.”
I leave her fuming in the kitchen and find Gemma. “Is everything going okay?”
“It’s going great. Thanks, Lauren. I should only need another half hour. And then if I can have that tour of the villa on my way out, I’ll be all set.”
“Sure. Just call out when you need me.”
I seat myself in the corner of the living room and open my laptop under the pretence of working, but I’m really eavesdropping. Patrick and Ariel have made me paranoid.
I just hope I haven’t made a huge mistake.
TWENTY-SIX
Fortunately, my gamble pays off and Gemma writes a glowing account of life in the villa. She does allude to the fact that some of the show’s practices may have been a tad barbaric in the past, but acknowledges that the current cast are happy, and in fact, really like the producers and the environment of the show.
Within twenty-four hours, Network Gossip’s article goes viral. One minute, all the morning talk show hosts are speculating on whether the next season of MultiDate will even make it to air, and the next, they’re fighting over who gets to secure an exclusive interview with each evicted couple in the coming weeks.
I send Gemma a bunch of flowers to thank her, and tell her I’ll try to secure another invite next season to show her that the set has changed permanently for the better. Obviously, as long as there is another season.
There’s no time to rest, though, because we only have two weeks before we’re off to our first destination on the ‘every continent’ tour. The first stop is North America.
My role on the show gets a little easier once Ariel settles down. She begrudgingly acknowledges that I did the right thing with the interview, and as a result, starts to treat me more as a colleague than a nuisance. It gives me time to finalise dates and potential situations for the contestants in each of the countries we’re about to visit.
I use my last few days to pack. One thing I hadn’t considered is that we’ll be on the road for six weeks, visiting every different climate the world has to offer. That means a lot of luggage.
I don’t own any winter gear, so I make a trip to Anaconda and stock up on thermal underwear and a good waterproof jacket and pants. I also know I’m going to need some sturdy boots, and some lightweight shirts and shorts for Laos and Uruguay.
On my final night, Finn makes a curry and offers to share it with me. We sit at the dining table, and I almost wish we were in the living room so the TV could act as a third person to distract me from the fact I’m about to be leaving him for an extended period of time.
“You know it will almost be Christmas by the time you get back,” he says.
“Actually, I hadn’t thought of that. And then Emma returns too.”
“Yeah.” He seems contemplative.
“Then you can go on your crazy trip. I’ll have to take notes and let you know which places are worthwhile visiting.”
He smiles. “I’d like that.”
“Do you want me to leave when Emma moves back?” I hadn’t planned on broaching the subject tonight, but it sort of just popped out.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to unless you want to. The lease doesn’t end until June, so obviously you can stay until then. But if you decide you want to leave earlier, we can take you off the paperwork.”
“Do you think it would be easier if I left?”
He gives me a long look. “I don’t know. But I like having you here.”
I blush and try to hide my discomfort by concentrating on my curry. But after a moment, I sneak a look back at him. The intensity in his expression makes my heart skip a beat.
“I’m going to miss you while you’re away,” he says quietly.
I keep my gaze fixed on him.
“I’m going to miss you too.”
***
The flight to Vancouver is long, with a middle-of-the-night refuelling stop in Hawaii. It gives me way too much time to think about Finn and that last dinner. After we finished eating, he disappeared into his room and I didn’t see him again. But he did leave a handwritten note on the kitchen counter the next morning.
Hey roomie,
Sorry – I’ve got a busy day and wanted to get to the gym before work, so I won’t be around to say goodbye. But I hope you have an amazing trip and I expect to see lots of photos on Instagram.
See you when you get back.
Finn x
Part of me wonders if he left early to avoid any awkwardness. I probably made it too clear I was emotionally attached to him, and he didn’t want to have to deal with that. At least I will soon have six weeks of non-stop action to distract me.
Due to the time difference, we arrive in rainy Vancouver at almost the same time we left. It’s mid-morning and very cold.
The cast and crew are tired and miserable, and we still have a long trek ahead of us.
Ariel goes with Reid and some of the producers in a minivan, while I accompany the cast on a bus. We drive through the streets of suburban Vancouver and my fatigued brain finds it fascinating that we’re on the other side of the world, but the houses look identical to the ones we just left.
We continue up to the CBD and alongside the bay, and despite the weather, I can see the appeal of this famous city. It feels spacious and clean, and I can see the mountains in the distance. Up ahead, lush forest surrounds us before we cross a bridge and drive along a highway heading west.
Fifteen minutes later, the bus rolls onto a large boat and the bus driver encourages us to all get out and sit upstairs for the duration of the ride.
It’s almost lunchtime, so we seat the cast near the buffet. It saves us having to stop somewhere else on the way.
My phone buzzes.
Everything going smoothly?
It’s Patrick, checking up on us.
Yes. We’re all pretty tired, but good otherwise.
Excellent. I’ll be flying out tonight, so I’ll see you tomorrow.
Wait, what? Does Patrick normally fly halfway around the world to check on the filming of one of his shows? Particularly one he’s thinking of cancelling? I suppose he might want to make sure he’s getting value for money, or want to confirm that the new direction is working, but still.
OK, I type back. (I mean, what else can I say?)
I help myself to a plate of chow mein noodles and potato salad, and take a seat near the window on my own. I wonder if Ariel knows Patrick is coming. I glance over to where she’s sitting. She’s positioned herself on the other side of the floor, also on her own. I’m starting to wonder if we’re actually more similar than I’d like to admit. We both warily watch the contestants to make sure they don’t do anything stupid in public. Not that I’m questioning their ability to act like intelligent human beings—it’s just that being out of the villa after six weeks has made them all a little hyperactive.
I look over at Reid, who seems to be charming two women at the buffet. If they’re not Australian, they’ll probably have no idea who he is, because MultiDate isn’t broadcast internationally.
I can’t believe I was so smitten with him before! Sure, he’s good looking, but he’s actually a little creepy. I overheard Mason telling one of the other producers that he saw Reid getting a little too excited again when the studio’s hair stylist was shampooing his hair, so I’m assuming it’s an ongoing issue. I looked up fetishes after that, and found out there was one called tripsolagnia, which sounded exactly like Reid. I’m guessing that’s what Jules was referring to when he first told me about Reid’s unusual bedroom habits.
I finish my noodles and get out my phone to read another Murakami book. I’ve now gotten through three of his titles, and I’m completely hooked. I keep forgetting to tell Finn he converted me.
Two hours later, we reach Vancouver Island, so we all get back on the bus and endure the three hour drive across to Tofino. I feel obligated to stay alert and ensure the cast are still behaving, but because I couldn’t relax on the plane, the bus soon lulls me into a restless sleep.
I’m jolted awake a few minutes later when I hear yelling from the backseat. It turns out Brittany has gotten into an argument with Maria. They’re the two most outspoken women in the group, so I suspected it would only be a matter of time before something like this happened.
“She st
ole my lipstick!” Brittany protests.
“Why would I want your gross old lipstick?” Maria retorts. “You probably have herpes anyway.”
“Um, I think you’ll find that no one on this bus has herpes,” Brittany points out. “Don’t you remember the physical you had to undertake before filming? Oh, that’s right. You were probably too drunk to remember. I’m surprised you weren’t disqualified because your liver is screwed.”
“Ladies, please. Enough with the insults. Brittany, we’ll buy you a new lipstick if it’s that important to you. And Maria, you know we’ll find out if you’ve been stealing from the other contestants. Now both of you be quiet. We’ve still got a long trip ahead of us until we get to Tofino.”
Both of them cross their arms and look like sullen teenagers. Jeez. Why did I think I wanted to work on a reality TV show again?
I can’t fall back to sleep, so I stare out the window and let the endless line of fir trees on the side of the road hypnotise me.
By mid afternoon, we finally arrive in Tofino, a gorgeous town that feels like a surf village, albeit with single digit temperatures. Our accommodation is a bunch of beachfront cabins that look like wine barrels half buried in the ground.
A sense of relief washes over me. We finally get to stop. Ariel had already organised who would be staying in each room, so I gratefully head off to my cabin, which I’m sharing with three other female producers, and head straight to bed.
I need to sleep for at least fifteen hours.
***
We don’t start filming again until late morning the next day. Ariel has now made me an unofficial producer, so I spend my time interviewing a couple of the girls about their current state of mind.
Olivia seems to be really enjoying herself. Once we got rid of Lee and replaced him with Sam—who was one of the backups I liked from the beginning—she’s developed a strong connection with him, but also Dean. But she’s become quite good friends with Chelsea, who is still also obsessed with Dean. And while Dean hasn’t yet strayed from Chelsea, it looks like he might want to. I kind of feel bad for saying it, but I’m loving all this ‘organic’ drama. I can see how easy it is for the producers to dehumanise the contestants, and I need to remind myself not to lose my sense of compassion.
MultiDate Page 20