by Maggie Way
"Ma'am, there are thousands of passengers on this voyage. I can't possibly remember everyone," he points out nastily. "No ticket, no cruise," he gives me a hateful smile, and I am certain that he remembers me. I want to ask him if he intends to make me walk the plank, but I fear that his answer might be in the affirmative.
"Did you lose your ticket?" Andrew asks, perplexed. "We had to show them with our identification when we disembarked the ship, he prods, evidently trying to make me remember.
"I've never had a ticket," I tell him. "I gave them my ID when we got off. They didn't ask me for a ticket." I can hear the panic starting to surface in my voice.
Just when I'm beginning to wonder if this is some kind of trick that the show has set up to capture on film, Jamie appears. She whispers something in the ear of the man who seems to love being my obstacle. He rolls his eyes, but steps aside to let me pass.
After we decide to get cleaned up for dinner, Andrew leans in to give me a sweet kiss goodbye. We don't want to let each other go. We end up making out in the hallway, until an older passenger clears her throat as she is trying to edge past us to get to her cabin.
"I miss you already," Andrew tells me as he turns reluctantly toward his room.
Jake follows me as I float down the hallway in the opposite direction––giddy with happiness––to my own room.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Andrew waits for me in the marble entryway to the dining room. Even though we still manage to be the last ones to arrive at the table, being on Andrew's arm makes me not worry about it a bit. I'm no longer consumed with how everything will play out on the screen. Besides, it can't possibly be much worse than how I've already been portrayed.
The presence of Andrew makes everything better. I feel like I have someone by my side who is ready to jump in to defend me, clear up any misunderstandings, and guard my back no matter what.
Bellamy and Cam are fully open with their enamored feelings for each other. Not that they hid it very well before, but now they seem to want the world to know that they are an item. In fact, they have scooted their chairs so close together that they are practically on top of each other. She isn't glaring at me, so I'm guessing Andrew's arrival has helped ease any awkwardness about her relationship with my husband. I hope she has also realized that I'm not nearly as spoiled or evil as the show made me out to be.
Paul and Tiffany are still clearly in the midst of their honeymoon phase. They are practically mooning over each other and totally ignoring the delectable appetizer plates that have been presented to us. I wonder if they will win the prize money since they are apparently the only wedded couple that might still work out.
I feel bad for Josh. He is the only one of the cast who doesn't seem to have any hope of finding love via the show. It might not have worked out as intended for the rest of us, but at least we have love interests. It makes me wonder if he feels left out and lonely. If he is, he gives no outward signs of it. He seems utterly happy-go-lucky, as if he doesn't have a care in the world. Perhaps his intentions behind joining the show leaned more toward the money and fame side rather than the love side of the equation.
I hadn't planned on finding love, but figured it would be a wonderful bonus if I could discover it. I would have never dreamed how things would veer off in a direction so marvelously different from the producer's plan during filming.
If I had been able to write a script for how things would go, I would have been portrayed as a better person on the show that aired, but I would have still found Andrew, and he would be exactly the kind of sweet, thoughtful, funny, sexy, humble, and dreamy man that he is. I smile over at him and he returns my loving gaze. Every time I glance his way, I'm still bowled over that it's really him.
Perusing the menu filled with fancy cuisine choices, like broiled lobster tails, steak Diane, prime rib, and rack of lamb; I am struck with the urge for something a little less heavy and high-end. "You know what really sounds good?" I ask the table at large. After pausing to let them wonder for a moment, I reveal, "A big, juicy cheeseburger and fries!"
The ship's captain looks appalled by my pedestrian suggestion, but the rest of the heads around the table nod to affirm their agreement with my idea. When the waiters arrive to take our orders, Cam takes the lead. "Burgers, fries, and Coke all around," he tells them loudly.
We all smile and hand over our menus, glad to be having a more 'normal' meal tonight, with the exception of the Captain, who calls one of the waiters aside to order the steak. When the waitstaff bring bottles of ketchup to set around the large table, Stubing picks up the bottle nearest him disdainfully––as if it is filled with slug-covered turds––and sets it aside. Someone clearly doesn't know how to relax and cut loose at all, I decide, but I keep my thoughts to myself. Besides, his fuddy-duddy reaction is already obvious to everyone.
The mood at the table is much more relaxed tonight, with the exception of stuffy Stubing. We laugh and tease each other as we become decidedly more comfortable in each other's company. I hope this friendship and easy camaraderie will be presented on tonight's show, rather than them opting to continue to portray us as competitors who can't stand each other and will do anything to one-up one another.
That hope might just be wishful thinking on my part...
Chapter Twenty-Nine
We head down to the theatre as a cheerful group, having no idea what the next hour of not-so-real reality television is about to rain down on us. Something deep inside me brings about a feeling of foreboding, but I attempt to squelch it by forcing the premonition to the backburner. For some reason, I don't want to believe the show will distort us into something we are not––even though I have already experienced it first-hand.
The episode starts innocently enough with a quick recap of our beautiful wedding ceremonies and the wild pool party that ensued afterward. There is a quick break for a word from the show's sponsors, and then I see my face flash on the screen.
They do an extreme close-up of me nervously saying, "I do" at the wedding. The scene then cuts to Cam carrying me over the threshold into our bridal suite. When Cam turns to kick the door to our room closed, he smiles and winks at the camera. They have added a cheesy chime sound and his tooth actually sparkles à la the 1950's as if to say, Excuse me, while we christen our marital bed.
Andrew shifts uncomfortably in his seat as the seemingly romantic rendezvous plays out on the giant screen. He has let go of my hand and moved his body as far away from me as he can, without leaving the seat adjacent to mine.
I turn to him and whisper, "It's not what it looks like." He nods once in acknowledgment of my words, but I can tell by his aloof body language that the video footage is bothering him.
He's not the only one who is troubled by seeing Cam whisk me into his arms with the insinuation that we are going to share our wedding night bed. The tentative truce that I could feel myself forging with Bellamy is blown out of the water as she leans around Cam to shoot eye daggers in my direction. I'm surprised by her strong reaction because I would have thought she would realize by now that the show's producers skew everything to suit their needs.
The show tonight seems to be focused almost entirely on me, which––before all of this started––I would have thought to be thrilling. The fact that they are portraying me as the slutty villain is rather disturbing, though. Scenes of me appearing to flirt with nearly every man on board the ship begin flashing on the screen.
I see myself laughing and touching Paul's shoulder as we play miniature golf together. Tiffany has magically been cut from the shot, so it appears that I have her husband all to myself––even though she was there with us the entire time.
The show's announcer does a voiceover as Syd and I appear on the screen sneaking into the ladies room together. "Ruthie is off to her next rendezvous," the voice says, insinuating that the two of us have gone in there to indulge in a naughty tryst, when in actuality we only went in there to have a private, camera-free chat.
At this point, I'm n
ot a bit surprised when the camera shows me catching the blown kiss from the pilot boat captain. Scrawled underneath my likeness are the words, "An island paramour?" I'm amazed they bothered to add the question mark, since they seem so determined to show me as a complete hussy.
The show continues in this vein––taking every opportunity to display innocent interactions I have had with men during the trip as naughty rendezvous. By the end, they have made it appear like I am a sex-hungry, man-eater who devours every male in sight. It would be laughable, if it hadn't seemed so believable. Even knowing the truth about each of the scenarios that had been shown, it was easy to misconstrue their meaning when confronted with the creatively edited video footage that had just been live-streamed to the world.
Andrew hasn't looked in my direction since the beginning of the show, and I can practically feel the anger and hurt feelings bellowing off of him in waves. I want to shout at him that what he has seen isn't real, but it is hard to deny something that seemingly has video proof. How can I expect him to accept my innocence when I have a hard time believing it myself after what we just saw?
The show finally ends with a teaser clip for the next episode. The announcer says mysteriously, "Has Ruthie already found her next victim?" I'm horrified when the scene cuts to a still shot of my Big-O face.
The camera is pointing down towards the water from one of the top decks of the ship. It is positioned directly above Andrew's balcony where I am splayed out leaning back over the railing, clearly in the throes of ecstasy. Although it is dark, the light from inside the room gives enough of a glow to the picture that my face is easily recognizable. It is obvious that I am naked, even though the side of the ship blocks the lower half of my body from view.
Two tiny stars have been placed over my nipples, allowing me to retain that tiny bit of modesty. I suppose I should be thankful for that small favor, since the show streams on the internet and doesn't have the same restrictions as network television would. I wonder if there is video to go along with the picture and if it will be aired on the next episode. I guess I will have to wait with the rest of the world because the screen goes black.
T.J. jumps up on the stage to give us the early results from the program's release. He is smiling, so I can tell that their plans to utterly mortify and humiliate me are bringing them the desired results. He shakes his head, flashing his crocodile-like grin before saying simply, "We are blowing up the internet."
After a raucous round of cheers and catcalls, the crowd in the auditorium disperses. I feel glued to my seat, even when Andrew bolts up from his chair and out of the theater without speaking a word to me. I try to tell myself that I will be able to straighten all of this out, but it feels overwhelming.
When I picture my friends and family watching tonight's unflattering episode of the show and then seeing that picture of me obviously being the recipient of intense oral pleasure, I want to crawl into a hole and hide for the rest of my life. There are just some things that your parents should not have to see, and this definitely fits that bill. The idea that there might be incriminating video to follow makes me break into a cold sweat.
I sit immobile in my seat as the theatre clears out. Several people come up to chat with the other cast members, but no one bothers to talk to me. I'm sure they are at a loss for what to say. I would be, if the situation were reversed.
Someone plops down beside me and I don't have to look over to know that it is Syd. He is the only one on this ship who believes in me unconditionally and gives me unfailing support. We sit in silence for a long while. When he finally speaks, his words are so perfectly Syd that they make me laugh.
"I'd take having my orgasm face shown to the world over having resting bitch face any day of the week, Honey."
Chapter Thirty
After giving Syd a hug and assuring him that I will be okay, I head up to the upper deck for some fresh sea air and solitude. I'm trying my best to keep things in perspective––I might be the most scandalous hussy on the internet right now, but notoriety is a fickle thing and will quickly shine its spotlight on someone else.
If I had known how the show would villainize me, I wonder if I would have agreed to be a part of it. Without the show, I wouldn't have rediscovered Andrew, so I have no doubt that I would have agreed to it, even if I had been given full disclosure.
I know that Andrew was hurt by what seemed like my brazenness on the show. I just hope that he will listen to reason and realize that things are not actually what they appeared to be. He is what matters to me. I just have to convince him of the truth. I'm excited to do just that, but I think it's best to give him some time to cool off. He was obviously hurt by the show's unfavorable depiction of my morals.
Looking out over the front of the ship, I enjoy the warm breeze coming off the water and blowing my hair back. Bending down to rest my chin on my hands on the railing and look down at the dark ocean, I wonder what mysterious creatures lurk deep below the surface. It cheers me to think that dolphins, turtles, crabs, and stingrays might be frolicking right underneath us, with no regard for the ship passing over them or the pesky problems the people on that ship are having.
"Don't jump." Andrew's voice startles me as I'm peering overboard. He walks up close behind me at the pointy bow of the ship.
I turn to the side, my ear near his mouth. "I thought you were angry with me."
"Syd talked some sense into me," he admits. "I know the show blows things out of proportion and makes things look different than they really are. I just needed a reminder."
I nod, immensely relieved that he is proving to be able to not take the show at face-value. "You're the only one I'm interested in, despite what it seemed like on the show."
"I know," he whispers soothingly near my ear before adding, "and the rest of the world will see it too. We'll get this mess straightened out," he promises.
"They made me seem so horrible," I say sadly, wanting to believe that we will be able to fix things, but not quite able to envision it.
"It's going to be okay," he reminds me, brushing my hair to the side and plying the side of my neck with sweet kisses.
I tilt into his soft lips, basking in his tenderness. "I was afraid you believed it," I admit. "I thought I lost you."
"You can't get rid of me that easily," he assures me. "Besides, Syd threatened to kick my ass if I didn't smarten up and find you to talk through things."
"He did?" I can't stop the laughter from bubbling up. Picturing slender, gentle Syd trying to bully big, tough Andrew is endearing, yet comical.
"He did," Andrew confirms before adding, "That guy really has your back."
"Yeah, he's the only one," I grumble, even though I feel exceedingly grateful for Syd's loyalty.
"He's not the only one, Ruthie," Andrew informs me. "I want to have your back, your front, and everything in between," he says sweetly, placing his palm over my heart. His lips forge a trail from my ear to my cheek as he says between kisses, "I think I'm falling in love with you."
I turn to face him, in shock. "You...you...you're falling in love with me?" I stammer.
He grins at me, "I've never seen you at a loss for words." My eyes roll at his almost-insult, which makes his grin widen before he closes in to brush his lips over mine. "Yes, I'm definitely falling in love with you. I feel like shouting it to the whole world," he gushes.
"You may have just now told them," I give him a sad smile. At his questioning look, I add, "Who knows where they have cameras."
"I don't care about that," he tells me. "What I care about is you and how you feel."
"I think I've been falling in love with you for a while now," I admit, being intentionally cryptic about how long I have harbored these feelings for him. I don't want to scare him away by revealing my almost-obsession too soon.
"It's fast, and it's crazy, but it feels right," he gushes, and I nod in total agreement with his assessment.
He turns me around to face the water and brings his front to touch my back.
We hold our arms out to the side and interlace our fingers, Titanic-movie style. "You make me feel like I am the king of the world, Ruthie."
His words vibrate near my ear making me tingle. "There's no place I'd rather be than right here in your arms," I reveal to him, and I mean it. My emotions have been all over the place since this trip started, with unbeatable highs and devastating lows, but I feel like we have now gotten to exactly where we are meant to be.
Chapter Thirty-One
It starts out as a fairly normal day. Andrew and I devour a massive breakfast on his balcony. I'm wearing one of his soft tee shirts, which is way too big for me. We are both famished from a long night of naked cavorting in his bed. He has delightful sensual tricks up his sleeve that make the magic act in his show seem pedestrian. I should feel tired from a lack of sleep, but I can't bring myself to feel anything but completely satiated and content.
He leans over to give me a deep kiss. I am tempted to get swept away yet again by his touch, but I remind us both, "We aren't safe out here. There are eyes and ears everywhere." I point upward and our gazes both follow the path I am indicating. No cameras are visible, but we aren't willing to risk having another secret video taken of our lovemaking.
I am just getting ready to suggest we go inside for some sudsy fun in his teeny-tiny shower when I notice a boat racing to catch up with us. It pulls alongside us and I peer down at the frantically waving passengers.
"Is that...?" I squint to get a better look. "No, it can't be," I try to convince myself.
"What?" Andrew asks, trying to figure out what I'm alluding to.
"That looks like Baggy, my grandmother," I inform him as I run inside the room to throw on some shorts and head down to sea level to see what is going on.
Sure enough, it is my crazy grandmother and her husband. Baggy has frantically waved her arms so much that our ship's crew has radioed up to the bridge to have us idle to see what the commotion is all about.