Blind Reality

by Heidi McLaughlin

  [Make-up fix]

  [Check lighting]

  [Break over]

  [Audience applause]

  “Welcome back. When we last left our houseguests, Amanda and Gary were getting cozy in the master suite.”

  [Audience oohs]

  “Let’s go live to the house to see how life is treating them, and to see if everyone is ready for tonight’s competition.”

  [Audience cheers]

  [Switch to the live feed]

  “Hello, newlyweds.”

  [All respond]

  “Gary and Amanda, how are you enjoying married life?”

  “Well, Patrick, the jetted tub in the master suite is to die for. I don’t think I ever want to leave,” Amanda’s reply is a bit too bubbly for me. She’s bouncing in her seat right now, happy to be the center of attention. Not that I blame her, it is nice when the focus is on you, unless you’re me. I’d rather not be the focus of anyone’s attention until this stupid game is over.

  “Oh yes, I hear it’s fabulous. I may have to come in and try it.”

  Creeper!

  I feel like yelling out that they should try the shower, but it’s probably not appropriate and would likely lead to more questions, like “how are you and Josh?” Me and who? Oh yes, my husband … the one who told his roommate his devious plan to wed and not bed, on national television so he could win half a million dollars to save the community center where he grew up. He’s noble, I give him that, but the rest of him needs work.

  Patrick Jonas carries on, while I tune him out. You can tell who his favorite houseguest is, and right now it’s Amanda. It could be because of her clothing. She’s taken to altering the “outfits” we’re given to wear for competitions, and made them more … well, Amandaesque. The tops are cut to show off her ample, and likely fake, breasts and her shorts are rolled so high … You get the picture.

  Amanda has also resumed the former and now active hobby of staring at Joshua, all the time. At first, when the show started, it bothered me because she was so nasty to me. Making snide comments about how I didn’t deserve someone like him. She’d touch him, running her fingers down his arms and he’d laugh. He placated her because it’s his job. But now, now that she knows Jules Maxwell has rocked our boat, she thinks she has a chance with him. Her new daily routine consists of doing yoga while he’s working out; making sure her rump shaker is facing him. I applaud her ability to bend and twist, but for the love of all things holy, no one wants to see your beaver dam, especially not Josh.

  If there’s one thing I know about Joshua Freaking Wilson it’s that he doesn’t do plastic, and Amanda is as plastic as they come. Sad to say, but I’d much rather he ends up with Jules instead of Amanda. But my opinion doesn’t matter. Once the show is over, I’ll never see him again. Right now, I can’t even fathom being friends with him. It’s not worth the heartache.

  Joshua taps me on the shoulder, getting my attention. I smile at the creeper, Patrick, and listen to him explain what we’re competing for.

  “Tonight you’ll compete in your first luxury competition. The winners will be flown to Tahiti for an eight-day excursion.”

  Everyone in the room claps or let’s out some kind of excited squeal, except for me. I don’t want to win. There’s no point.

  “So if we win, do I get the trip?” I whisper into Josh’s ear. He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, but doesn’t appease me with an answer. Needless to say, our relationship is not what it was before the video messages were shown to us. I know it’s not his fault that Jules said what she did, but it definitely drove the final nail in my proverbial coffin as his wife. I had been hanging on by a thread with breaking down his walls and getting somewhere in his heart. I had hoped that when the show was over, he’d take me into the green room and profess his undying love for me by ripping up the annulment papers. That hope no longer exists. It’s not going to matter what I do, I’ll be single in a few shorts week.

  Jules Maxwell made sure of that.

  “Newlyweds, we’ll meet you out back.”

  Everyone is in a hurry, rushing for the door, except for Josh and me. I don’t want to win, there’s no reason to. We won’t be taking the vacation together so I’m not even sure why we’re playing.

  “We should be the first out,” I suggest. “No reason to even compete.” Standing up, I turn and face him, giving him a shrug. I feel like a mediocre person in this game, like it’s not going to matter what I do or what competitions we win because it’s all for nothing. It’s all over for me once the final vote comes in.

  Joshua stands and run his hand through his hair, he forehead wrinkling as he frowns. Is he frustrated? Maybe, but this is what he wanted, minus me willing to lose. “I don’t want to throw the competition, Joey.”

  “So I get the trip?”

  “I told you I’m sorry about Jules.”

  I scoff. “This has nothing to do with Jules. You want an annulment at the end of the show. I want a vacation and I have no intentions on taking one with an ex.”

  He shakes his head with narrowed eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly shuts it. It’s a victory for me, another wall going up to protect my heart, until it isn’t. His lips are against mine before I have time to flinch. Fingers grip the back of my neck, intensely. I let out a small whimper because dammit, I want this. I want him.

  But he doesn’t want me or maybe he does, but my heart can’t take it. I’ve had a taste of him, and yes I want to feast on his platter, but he’ll be the death of me.

  Pushing him away, I run the back of my hand across my face, slowly and with emphasis. “I think it’s best if we don’t show any affection when people aren’t around,” I say as I walk away from him. The need to protect my heart is greater than receiving delicious kisses from Josh. Even if they’re toe curling and goose bump inducing.

  The backyard is transformed into a mini Tahiti. I instantly hate it. I’d love to see Joshua and me sitting on the beach under the sun. Relaxing by the cover of shade trees and eating dinner under the moonlight. Midnight strolls, hand in hand, along the beach with waves crashing over our feet. Waking up under white gossamer with the sun filtering through the open window and the smell of the sea air making us feel calm. It’s all a dream that I thought was within my grasp.

  “I made you a drink, Joshie.” Amanda bounces up to him, making sure her breasts are on full display. I glance at Gary who looks defeated. I’m not sure if I feel sorry for him or not. He likes her, maybe even loves her, and at one point she liked him.

  That is until Jules happened.

  I raise my eyebrow at Josh, who looks green. “I’ll take it,” I say, grabbing the red liquid filled glass from her hand. Without hesitation, I bring it to my lips and drink solidly, downing most of the cocktail. “Hmm, this is good. Want to try it, Joshie?” I add emphasis the “ie”. At most, I called him Josh and thought about calling him honey or babe, but never Joshie.

  “I’ll take anything you give me,” he replies, taking the glass from my hand. His eyes never leave mine as he drinks. When he pulls away, he leans forward and kisses me with his cold, but flavored lips. Amanda huffs in the background; her annoyance matches mine where she’s concerned. Maybe I should use Joshua to help Gary out. The only problem with that is I’ll get hurt in the long run. I have too much to lose, even if I don’t have him now. Dignity costs a lot in my eyes.

  Josh pulls me behind him to where our names are listed in front of the wave pool made to look like an ocean, complete with sand. The producers have gotten fancy and have the sound effects of the beach playing overhead. It’s as real as it’s going to get for me unless I figure out a way to put my stupid anger aside and play this game to win. A half million dollars is enticing, and could be well spent on a whirlwind vacation. Who knows, I could go to Italy and meet my dream guy.

  Except my dream guy has me wrapped in his arms with his mouth dangerously close to my ear while we listen to Patrick Jonas explain the rules.

 
; “Each couple will take their place on the surfboard. One spouse must stand the entire time, and neither may touch the water. The last couple will be crowned the winner. Please step onto your surfboard.”

  We do as we’re instructed. The board wobbles a little, and Josh stills me with his hands on my hips.

  “If we’re both going to stand, I think we should hang onto each other. We’ll take breaks sitting down.”

  “Or we could just jump in now and get it over with,” I offer the easiest solution.

  He cups my face, shaking his head. “We’re not losing. If we don’t go together, you can have the tickets.”

  Except in the end, we lose to Amanda and Gary. I’m not sure how it happened, but it did. I was standing against Josh, my head on his shoulder and with my eyes closed. The sun had already set, and we were soaking wet. He was holding me, trying to provide some warmth, but it wasn’t working. I was shivering, and we lost our balance. The surfboard started to wobble, and when a gust of wind was blown on us, Josh slipped with his foot going over the board and touching the water.

  Ten hours of standing and we lose.

  After a long hot shower, I’m somewhat warmed from the chill. I crawl into bed, in the white room, and close my eyes. The bed dips and I feel Josh get in beside me. He pulls me close so that we’re spooning. We haven’t done this in weeks, not that I’ve allowed him to touch me. I missed this, though, even if I couldn’t admit it to him.

  “Please stop ignoring me,” he whispers against my skin. For a brief moment, my heartbreaks at the pain I hear in his voice. I don’t have a choice. I’m not like him. I haven’t been trained to be able to shut off my emotions like a light switch. I’ve liked him for so long that when I found out I was married to him, it was a dream come true. Sure, it’s a fantasy type dream, but nonetheless it was my dream and it was happening. Regardless of how long our marriage lasted, it was my fairytale. And yes, he shattered that fairytale early on, but he never shut me out. Josh treated me like I was his equal; his friend and partner.

  I wish I were the type to tell him how I feel. Aside from him knowing that he’s my celebrity crush, he doesn’t know that I genuinely like him and I’ve fallen for him while we’ve been in this house. He doesn’t know, each day, up until the fateful date of the video messages I hoped and even prayed we’d walk out of this house hand in hand and into his waiting car. Destination unknown, but we’d be together and willing to start a life with one another. The only thing he’s willing to start is a past. Again, I don’t know if I can be his friend after the show.

  Two options are in front of me. Pretend I’m already fast asleep, or tell him how I feel and what I want, even though I know he’ll never be able or willing to reciprocate the feelings. I keep thinking that if he knew me, the real me, he’d see that I’m more than a woman whose mother thought she was so desperate that she put her on national TV to find a husband. I can be the wife he needs if he’d just open himself up to the chance of falling in love with me.

  My mind is made up for me when my body turns in his arms. His beautiful brown eyes are sad. The usual spark of life seems to be missing. I trace his frown lines, hoping that they’ll magically disappear with my touch.

  “I wish I could be enough for you. I wish that when you looked at me you saw your future, not someone temporary. When I see you, I see the stars lighting our path through life. I see us doing something great and magnificent. I don’t care that you’re famous because that’s not how I see you anymore. To me, you’re the one who makes sure I’m warm at night. You make me feel like I matter, and I want the opportunity to show you that you matter to me as well.”

  His eyes glisten and he pulls me closer. No more words are exchanged as I kiss him lightly on the mouth before snuggling into his chest. His breathing lulls me into the most perfect dream ever, one where he and I are together in the future.

  “Hey?” I tap her lightly on the shoulder, but she doesn’t budge. Her shallow breathing tells me she’s asleep and quite comfortable nestled into my chest. She hides her face to block out the camera that remains on for the midnight perv watchers. This is why I prefer the master suite so much. I enjoy my sleep and being in the white room is particularly hard on my sleep pattern. It’s too bright in here.

  I have so much to say to her, but I’m a coward. I want to look into her light blue eyes while I open my heart, but I’m afraid of her reaction. It’s not that I think she’ll tell me no, it’s what comes next. What happens when I’m not enough anymore?

  My mom once told me that eyes are the road to someone’s soul and that you can tell everything about someone just by looking into them. You can tell if they’re lying, sad, happy, or even full of mischief. When I’m given the opportunity to look into Joey’s eyes, I’m searching … searching for the answers that I need in order to survive both her and this game.

  I contemplate waking her up. It’s been an hour since she laid it all out there and I’ve been here thinking about all of the things I want to say to her. When my parents started fighting, I learned to keep everything bottled up. Neither of them had time for my problems because they were dealing with their own personal fallouts. To them, I was just a piece of property that they were fighting over. No one ever asked what I wanted except for Gene, the director at the community center where I started spending all my time. He’s the reason I’ll gladly give up my winnings. The center needs it. The foundation, doors, and windows are in need of repair, not to mention all the furnishings are beyond ruined. Flooding did a number on the building and I want to help them get back on their feet. Gene, he saved me and now I need to save him. The money I give yearly covers supplies, but not the repairs.

  Joey stirs in my arms, and instead of letting her go so she can roll over, I pull her closer. The faint scent of her perfume lingers, reminding me that I love the way she smells. Not everyone wears the right perfume, but Joey does. It complements her and puts crazy thoughts in my head. Like the need to spill my guts even though she’s sleeping.

  “Joey,” I whisper, hoping to wake her. When she doesn’t stir, I know that if I don’t say what’s on my mind, I’ll never get the words out. “When I look at you, I ask myself why you’re not enough for me, and the truth is, you are, but I’m not enough for you. My world is hectic and ruthless. It’s not very stable. It’s demanding, the hours are long and I can be gone for weeks on end. I like the fact that you see us doing something great and magnificent because that means you see the real me, not the actor or your celebrity crush.

  “When I see you, I see a woman who can accomplish anything. I see my future slipping away because we met on a reality television show. Before I even arrived, my agent had the annulment papers already typed and ready for your signature, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you after the show ends. I’m just afraid that once we’re in the real world, you’ll see how ugly my life truly is. I’m afraid of losing you to Hollywood.”

  I thought I’d feel better after saying those words, but no such luck. I know the words need to be said to her, when she’s coherent and can understand them. Our eyes need to meet, maybe our hands will connect and the words can just tumble out of my mouth. In my fantasy world, she slaps me in the face for waiting so long and shuns me the rest of the show, making our annulment a piece of cake. In reality, at least what I’m picturing as my reality, she jumps into my arms and kisses me so passionately that I’m left with the choice of either pushing her away or taking her to bed.

  I so desperately want to take her to bed.

  When Barry called, reminding me of our agreement, I had to tell my agent, Matt. I believe he had a heart attack as he ran through every scary life-changing scenario and suggested the no sex rule. I agreed, because the last thing I wanted was to be attached to someone I didn’t like. It was my lawyer, Jason, who added the annulment. Matt agreed. I didn’t fight them on it, since they’re paid to look out for my best interests and protect me. I’d give anything to get one of them on the phone and explain to them th
at I’m falling for the girl. That what I’m feeling is real and that maybe the annulment isn’t such a good idea anymore.

  They’ll be angry, sure, but it’s worth it for me. I want … no, I need to spend some time outside of this house with Joey. Seeing her in my life, on set and whatnot, can either make or break us. I have a feeling that Joey is resilient, but maybe not against the likes of Jules Maxwell.

  Before I know it, all the house lights are on again signaling daylight and Joey is turning in my arms. She stretches, opens her eyes, and graces me with a smile. I don’t want to let her go, but forcing her to stay cuddled up against me like a caged animal probably isn’t the best way to hold onto her. And just like that, we’re awake and starting a new day.

  I’m starting the new day without any sleep, since my mind wouldn’t shut off long enough for me to relax and shut my eyes. Behind my closed eyes, all I saw was my life without Joey. Me living on the streets of Venice bumming coins from tourists while she’s off gallivanting with some über famous actor who not only stole my lead, but my lady. It’s farfetched, I know, but it could happen. Of course, I have people in place to make sure that never happens, but it could. My heart could break so bad that I just give up.

  “I’m sorry for staying in your arms all night. I must’ve been tired.”

  She’s apologizing for being comfortable? I made her feel like she has to do this, it’s not right.

  “I didn’t mind.”

  “Right,” she murmurs as she gets out of bed, leaving the room. She’s wearing one of those undershirt tank tops with shorts. Adorable, yet too overdressed for bed in my opinion. Although, being in the white room, we aren’t left with many options for clothing. If we were to strip down, our goods would be all over the web in minutes and my manhood would probably have its own twitter. Funny as that may be, I don’t think my lawyer nor agent would appreciate it as much.