Scorpio

by Lauren Landish

  “What? I had a pretty simple choice, it seemed. On one hand, a guy that I’m falling for but who was totally gaslighting me. And on the other, a guy who’s really into me, but I don’t have feelings for him. At least I don’t look like a fucking idiot choosing the guy who actually likes me.”

  McKayla purses her lips and looks around the room. “Listen, how do you know he’s not really into you? I mean, a few days ago you, both looked so goddamn gaga over each other I was ready to go get a diabetes test.”

  “I saw some of what he’s said in confessional,” I admit, and McKayla sighs. “What?”

  “You don’t think that shit gets edited to angle it a certain way? You know it will. They gotta turn a five-minute confessional into a forty-five-second soundbite. Did you hear all of it?”

  “No,” I reply, “but he did say he wasn’t in love with me. And then he virtually ghosted me on our suite date. And just . . . I made my choice.”

  “You’d better think more on it!” McKayla says, shutting her mouth when I look at her angrily. “Listen, this whole thing, it touches me, okay? I know, I know, I’m the smart-mouthed bitch who does hair and isn’t supposed to give a fuck, but Em, I like you. And I want you to be happy.”

  “I’d like to be happy too,” I admit, sighing. “Now, let’s get down to makeup and get ready, or else Brad’s gonna bitch and Meredith’s gonna bitch even more.”

  “Wait,” McKayla says, grabbing my arm. “Seriously, tell me you’re going to think some more on this!”

  I look into her eyes, touched by the compassion and the fire burning in them. It’s so fierce, it hurts when I nod, swallowing. “I’ll do the right thing.”

  McKayla grins. “Then let’s go make you fucking gorgeous.”

  I know I look beautiful. Brad and McKayla really outdid themselves in the prep for the final scene, but there’s no real pep in my step as I shuffle on set, taking the cards from Nate. “Hey, you okay?” Nate asks, looking at me. “Remember, this is the last chance to make a good impression for the audience. We really need you to deliver.”

  I nod, and for a moment, I think about what I told McKayla. Do the right thing. But no matter what, there is no right thing. I feel like I’m making the wrong choice either way. Nate looks at me again and turns to say something to Meredith, who I can see is going straight Marie Antoinette on some poor schmuck, but before he can say anything, I reach out and grab his arm. “No. I can do it.”

  “Okay.” Nate says, and I force myself to smile, rolling my shoulders back and hoping that the glitter in my eyes doesn’t look too false. I walk onto set, taking my place on the final podium.

  “Change of plans,” Meredith says, approaching me. “No limo, the LVPD wasn’t willing to shut down the street to let us get the shot we wanted. Apparently, Celine Dion’s show demands more respect than we do. So after this, we’ll have one more scene after nightfall, you two getting into a helicopter and flying off. Very Fifty Shades, you know.”

  “Whatever, I’m good.” I see Hayden and Lee come on set, both of them looking stunning in tailored tuxedos, and my heart clenches in my chest. They look their best, with their hair styled perfectly, their jawlines both looking strong enough to crack granite, and their tuxedos making them look like ten million bucks. But in my heart, I know that what I’m about to do . . . it’s just not right. But my brain is telling me that if I switch my decision, I’m going to be doing the wrong thing, too. Either way, I lose.

  Meredith yells, “Action!” and the cameras start to roll. I see her give me a countdown. I’m sure that right now, they’re probably getting voiceover footage for the finale before she waves and points at me. I’m on.

  I look between the two men, Lee looking hopeful and sincere and Hayden looking like he’s barely controlling some anger below the surface, although I don’t know why he’s the mad one. Putting on a false smile, I begin to speak. “Talk about a journey. Hayden and Lee, I’ve had such an experience with each of you and will always treasure the dates we’ve had. Hayden, whether it was horseback riding, watching you play football, or our private dates in the hot tub and then in the Asian fantasy suite, you’ve given me memories that will last a lifetime.”

  “You, too,” Hayden replies. “Emily, you’re an amazing woman.”

  I expect him to say more, but he closes his mouth, and I turn to Lee. “Lee, from that first date, you’ve been the man who turns up the heat. It took me a while to see the real you, but when you opened yourself up to me, I was touched and moved as well.”

  “Emily, I know it took me a while,” Lee says, smiling shyly. “I kept kicking myself after every date we had, saying that I should have opened up more and that I was a fool for being too afraid to do just that. Thank you for the patience you showed me, and I hope that you’ll give me the chance to show you more.”

  “Well, now’s the time to find out,” I reply. I pause, feeling my nerves bubbling up inside me. I can see the emotions in both of their eyes, their faces lit up by the lights from the fountain. Meredith hollers at me when I take too long, and I quickly swallow my nerves to get on with this. “Hayden, Lee, please step forward. I’ve thought long and hard about this. So gentlemen, let’s see if we’re a Match. Please . . . turn over your cards.” With a 1-2-3, we turn over, and Lee’s face breaks into a huge grin and he swoops forward, picking me up in a hug before I even have a chance to say anything.

  “Match made in heaven, Emily!” he says as he spins me around. He’s obviously happy, and I try to smile, but my eyes meet Hayden’s over Lee’s shoulder and lock. His eyes are blazing, and he looks like he’s about ready to put his foot right up Lee’s ass. He’s obviously angry but trying desperately to hide it. Finally, he steps forward and shakes Lee’s hand.

  “Congratulations, Lee. She’s a great woman.”

  “Thank you. That she is,” Lee says. Hayden turns to me, and I see not just anger but something else in his eyes as he gives me a little side hug before turning to walk off-set without even a congratulations or a goodbye.

  What the fuck was that? I don’t understand what happened to him. We were doing so well and I thought we really had something till he went cold fish on our suite date. Am I really that blind or stupid or both? Apparently so. “Hay—”

  Meredith interrupts me, calling out in her loud voice. “Hayden, wait. We need to film the teaser scene before you go inside.” Teaser scene? What the hell does that mean?

  He turns back, looking me dead in the eye but talking to Meredith. I see the anger flaring in his eyes, and a vindictive flash that I know all too well. Hayden’s hurt. Why? How? I want to ask him, but he just answers Meredith instead. “Now? I’ve got the lines memorized, but I didn’t think it’d be now. You know what? Fine, let’s get it over with.” Hayden walks up to a mark just in front of Lee and me, looking in the camera.

  “Thank you for watching Season 1 of Matchmaker. It was such a fun roll of the dice, and next season, it’ll be my turn. I’ll be the Match for thirty new suitors. So ladies, send in your video applications. Are you my match? Guess we’ll have to play and see.”

  I realize what he’s said and my stomach plummets as I feel Lee tense beside me. Under his breath, I hear Lee mutter, “What the fuck? That’s supposed to be me.”

  I look up at him, but before I can say anything, Meredith starts clapping loudly. “And that’s a wrap, people! Great job, everyone! If you’ll head inside to your rooms, we’ll be through shortly for final instructions. Lee and Emily . . . get ready for the chopper scene. It’ll take you back to Los Angeles. You’ve got interviews tomorrow.”

  Emily

  I plop into the chair, McKayla and Brad staring at me open-mouthed. Brad looks like he’s about to cry while McKayla just looks pissed off. “What the actual fuck just happened? I thought you said you were going to do the right thing.”

  Brad puts a hand on McKayla’s arm, obviously trying to slow her roll. “I think what McKayla means is . . .” he says, his voice squeaky until he clears his throa
t, and when he speaks again, there’s no hint of the lisp or the silly effeminate makeup artist, but a pissed off guy who’s genuinely hurt. “Nope, can’t do it. Emily, what the fuck, bitch?”

  I look back and forth at them and lose it, tears gushing down my face as I break down. Blubbering, I try to explain that I found out Hayden was playing me, didn’t love me, and was gonna make me look like a fool so production had me pick Lee to make the show a better ending. McKayla listens for a minute, then sighs. I don’t know if she’s disgusted, angry, or pitying me. I just know it makes me cry all the harder until she puts her hands on my shoulders, pulling me in and letting me calm down slightly. “Chickadee, I don’t know what you saw or what you heard, but I’ve seen players and I’ve seen men in love. Hayden would look at you when your back was turned, and his eyes weren’t looking like a player. He would talk with the other guys off camera, and every word he said was respectful and full of meaning for you. To top it off, he was begging us for help to have alone time with you off camera. I think you may have been played, just not by Hayden.”

  I gulp, swallowing back my tears as Brad brings me a cup of coffee, the hot drink helping me calm some. “But what if it was just part of his devious plan to win the show? Get some recognition? It fucking worked, did you hear? The asshole is the lead for next season, so joke’s on me.” I disintegrate into tears again, Brad being quick to scoop my cup up before I burn myself.

  Nate pops his head in the door. “Uh, excuse me, ladies, can I come in?” He steps in, closing the door behind him without waiting for a reply. “Meredith sent me to suggest you pack pink tones for the show in the morning. Quote, ‘to make her look flushed and happy’ for the interviews. Oh, and sparkly for the chopper shot, wardrobe has a jewel-encrusted pantsuit for her to wear.”

  Brad turns, a hint of his lisp coming back as he talks to the production assistant. “Thanks. We’ll keep that in mind, but kinda busy with a crisis here, Nate. And tell wardrobe to stop dressing Emily like a stripper.”

  Nate looks at me, obviously uncomfortable. “You okay?”

  There’s something about his question that pisses me off, which at least clears my tears for a moment. I turn to him, huffing. “No, I’m not okay. And you damn well know it, too. You were there in that meeting and know Hayden played me the whole damn time. I fell for him for real and now my heart is broken.”

  Nate looks shocked at my outburst and tries to speak, but I’m on a roll now and I need to let the pain out of my soul. “Now I get to go on TV and fake being in love with another man so I don’t hurt a bunch of other people. Oh, yeah . . . y’all just keep pulling the puppet strings. I’ll go with Lee and do the interviews. I’ll do my best to work a smile. But really? I wish I’d never done this show.”

  McKayla and Brad hug me into them, whispering ‘it’s okay’ and patting my back, shooing Nate out. We get through the prep for the chopper shot, and by keeping the camera behind me most of the time, Meredith’s able to get a shot of me and Lee climbing into the chopper together. Inside, Lee’s muttered words come back to me, but I’ve had enough pain for one day. When we get back to LA, we head straight to the hotel. Before my room door even closes, I crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head.

  I spent the whole night alternating between pacing and ranting and curling up and crying. By morning, I look like hell, and I feel even worse. McKayla and Brad do their best to perk me up, both with makeup that feels inches thick to cover my red eyes and light jokes to lighten the somberness surrounding me. Whatever drama there might have been last night, and regardless of how exhausted the two of them have to be after driving back to LA, they do their best to cheer me up.

  In the green room, Meredith addresses Lee and me. “Okay, guys, the hosts have a set list of approved questions. You just need to answer like lovebirds looking forward to the rest of your lives together without giving away too much. If anything seems too deep, promote the reunion show to find out. Remember, while this is going to be taped, that doesn’t mean we want it to be super edited or anything.”

  “How long until the finale is shown?” Lee asks, and I nod. Maybe we’ve got different reasons for this, but I have to know how long I have to keep up the happy face charade before I can let it show that I’m broken up inside.

  “The delay isn’t as bad as some of the shows, only a few weeks,” she says. “The reunion show will be filmed the night of the finale, and we’ll get you the details on that soon.”

  A few minutes later, we walk out to hugs from the show hosts, who are acting like it’s the middle of the morning instead of one in the afternoon. I guess it’s just more of the magic of television. Settling into a couch, I do my best to keep my ‘game face’ on as the hosts check their question sheets. “Congrats, you two! Sounds like a Match was made for the Matchmaker! Tell me how you’re doing.”

  Lee slips an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close, and I try to look comfortable even as I’m cringing inside. Lee’s dressed perhaps more casually than I’ve seen him except for the physical challenges of the show, in a polo shirt and khakis that make him look . . . kind of suburban. “Well, we had so many great dates and I think I just swept her off her feet. She had to pick me as her Match.”

  I smile politely, not able to say a word as the hosts give me a lead that I fail to pick up. Finally, the host plows on. “Emily, it seemed like you had several great dates and connections with several suitors. In fact, there’d been lots of chatter, even betting pools, about whom you’d pick. I’ll admit that my bet was for Hayden. What happened there?”

  I feel Lee tense a little but figure he doesn’t want to talk about Hayden when it’s supposed to be our promo time. “Yeah, the guys were all really great, some more my type than others. The final two were definitely my frontrunners from the very beginning. It was a hard decision.” I take a steadying breath, refusing to cry on fucking TV about Hayden, and I can feel the anticipation in the air as the host waits for more.

  The seconds drag out, and Lee takes the opportunity to pull me to him. “She just couldn’t deny our chemistry . . .” before he covers my mouth in a kiss, using a finger to tip my chin up to meet his lips. The host makes an oohing sound, and I’m a little relieved at the break from the Hayden subject. After a few more easy questions, we’re done.

  I am glad to get offstage. I’m so sick of this fakeness that I can’t put up with it for one minute longer. I already heard Meredith talking with the producer of the morning show program. They’re going to use a ‘canned audience’ sound for the kiss. This is a huge joke.

  Whatever, I know there’s a few more interviews to take care of still before Lee and I have to work out the details of how we’re going to maintain a relationship with our real lives still going on. It’ll be hard. We live on opposite coasts, but I’ll be willing to give Lee a fair chance. I mean, I was so head over heels for Hayden that I didn’t really give Lee the attention he deserved, and maybe I should.

  Back in the green room, though, Lee is visibly frustrated, not quite yelling but definitely a bit loud. “Em, you’ve got to answer the questions about the suitors better. I can’t save you every time. Both of us have a lot riding on these appearances. Get it together and don’t fuck this up.” I’m shocked and put off, but before I can react, he walks off, shaking his head.

  Hayden

  “Hey, Hayden, good to see you again,” Meredith says. It’s been a week, and I’ll admit I’ve pretty much zombied my way through the past seven days. I go to the gym because I’m supposed to. I talk to Jay because he calls me, but other than that, I just sleep or veg. “How have you been?”

  “I’ve been fine,” I reply, tugging at my jeans. Fuck getting dressed up for this.

  “Hmm, really? Because I gotta tell you, gorgeous, you look like shit,” Meredith says. “I mean, really hot shit, but still shit.”

  “I think I picked up a bug in Vegas,” I lie through my teeth. “You know those buffets aren’t the cleanest places, and after filming wrapped, I sort
a went on a bender for a day or two while you guys were footing the bill.”

  “That’s just fine. You’ve got time to get yourself back into shape,” Meredith says. “Okay, down to business. Check this out, this will be airing the day after the finale. Edited down, of course. They took a half hour for what’s probably going to end up being five minutes on the morning shows.”

  Meredith picks up a remote on her desk, and the TV mounted on the wall fires up. I get to watch their fucking interview on TV, not wanting to but at the same time forcing myself. I want to see what Emily says about me and the other guys. Hell, I want to see what Lee says.

  As the interview continues, I feel my hands clenching in my lap as I listen to Lee. That asshole, figures he’d talk trash. Not just about me, but everyone. He does it in a passive-aggressive way that makes it seem natural, but that’s Lee. I took a moment to chat with Dean two days ago, and he explained it best.

  “Lee’s the straw on the camel’s back sort of asshole. None of his comments, by themselves, are worth punching him in the mouth over. But you add them all up, and eventually, you just hate the guy and want to kick his ass. The moment you do, though, he gets to look all innocent and shit because you look like a petty asshole listing a hundred and fifty pieces of pitty-pat shit. And nobody who isn’t the target of his words is going to get it. They just laugh it off like it’s nothing. But when you’re on the receiving end . . . you wanna go Tyson on his ass.”

  That’s Lee to a T. And while he does make a couple of comments about being the best match, he seems to be fully in his “camera personality”, not his real self. I saw it too much over the weeks of filming. The guy would save all his backstabbing and his comments for when he knew nobody would be able to call him on his shit.

  I wonder if Emily has spotted the difference yet. Nope, I’m stopping that train of thought in its tracks because it doesn’t matter. She picked him, not me. And that’s all that matters. I wonder if she knew she was gonna pick him even when she was with me. Hell, maybe she fucked him too. I don’t think so, but I thought I knew her. Maybe I didn’t.