Blind Reality

by Heidi McLaughlin

  “I want to spend all my free time with her, and make time that doesn’t exist be time for just the two of us. I never want to get up in the morning for fear that I’ll be cold because her body keeps me warm at night. I find myself watching her comb her hair and it’s fascinating. I love that she wants to workout, but not willing to give up her cake. She’s real, not a plastic filled human trying to be someone she’s not.

  “My fear is that I’m tainted by the ugly of the world and can’t see the beauty that is in front of me. My hope is that I’m enough for her, but the angry, bitter man inside of me says I’m not and I never will be. My stubbornness is going to drive Joey away and I’m not sure that I know how to stop it. I made a mistake. From day one I’ve told her something that I can’t take back.”

  I sit back and stare off into the dark space, hating myself for being in this mindset. If I hadn’t let her break down my walls, I wouldn’t care that she’s talking to Bronx, but I do. I’m angry and I’m hurt. The sad thing is, I deserve it. I have to own everything that she throws at me because I created the divide between us. The rules I put in place were meant to protect her, not hurt me.

  “Tell us about Joey?” The voice is male, different from Linda. I cock my head toward the camera. I should get up and leave. I’ve already said too much, been too open with the viewers and with myself. The actor in me is saying—fake it. Give them the goods and play this whole situation off, but I’d be lying to myself, and if I can’t be honest with who I am, what good will I be to Joey?

  “Joey …” I say, remembering the first time I kissed her. Even with the blindfold on I felt something. It took no time for her to work her way into my life without even trying, even when I was fighting her every step of the way.

  “The way she smiles can bring me to my knees,” I tell the camera. The viewers. Her parents. Jules. What I don’t tell them is that the way she says my name in those passionate moments we’ve been sharing makes me crumble. My knees shake at the thought of her lips touching mine. My resolve has weakened and honestly I’m not sure how much longer I can survive her unintentional onslaught. I need her not only physically, but emotionally as well.

  In hindsight, this show was not a good idea for me. I never expected to develop feelings of longing and lust for someone I barely know, and now that I have I don’t know how to make things right for her, or for us.

  The last time I felt like this was with Jules, but even when I saw her on screen and heard her tell me that she can’t wait until I’m home, I knew I had fallen for Joey, even with all my barriers up. With Jules, things were different. I didn’t seek her out for companionship or to be my girlfriend. We just fell together. It was easy and convenient, until it wasn’t. When Bronx made his presence known, I knew I was on the same path as my parents and I didn’t want that. It was too easy to go our separate ways, even if we end up back together every now and again. She knows I’m not serious about her, but refuses to accept it.

  I seem to be the one who can’t commit, or follow though. Maybe it’s out of fear or I have to learn how to open myself up more and realize that when I have a beautiful woman standing in front of me, one that is willing to be my partner through the most unconventional circumstances, I need to take the bull by the horns and seal the deal. I’m just not sure I can. What Joey wants from me, I don’t think I’m capable of giving.

  Again, I’m a coward.

  When I signed the contract, I never thought Barry would follow through with having me on the show. When my agent informed me that I had to fulfill my obligations and appear on the show, he was angry that I got him and myself into this mess and asked if this was a ploy for money. It’s not about that at all. It’s about me wanting to make a difference in people’s lives, which is why I’m giving my winnings to the foundation; the very center that helped shaped who I am today. I told myself that I’m here to win, not fall in love.

  I may be lying to myself right now.

  My lower lip feels raw and there’s blood on the tip of my finger after rubbing where I’ve bitten through without any cause or concern for the pain. I didn’t even know I was chewing on it until now. Who knew a question like this would send me into a diatribe in my head, justifying why I’m here and what I’m feeling for Joey?

  “Do you want to continue?”

  My head cocks to the side as I focus on the camera. I hate the detached feeling of this room. I don’t care if the couch is comfortable and there are throw pillows everywhere. It’s cold, unwelcoming, and invasive. I can’t tell the viewers what I think about my wife because I’m not sure I can say the words out loud.

  “Joey is unlike any woman I have ever met before. She makes me laugh and I have a feeling she’ll be the one to make me cry.” The words tumble out of my mouth. I can’t stop them. I don’t want to. If I can’t tell her, I’ll tell the viewers, the fans. I’ll give them some insight as to how I see her. I want them to fall in love with her.

  “Are you looking forward to a future with her?”

  “Do I even have a future with her?” I ask the voice behind the dark screen. “The producers seem to think otherwise or they wouldn’t have pulled that little stunt with Jules Maxwell, or have brought in another man from her past. Honestly, I stand a better chance with her ex in the room than I do with Bronx.”

  “Please answer the question, Joshua.”

  In this moment, I want this show to be over. I want to get out of here and start dating Joey to see how we are in real life. I want her to experience the Hollywood premieres, after parties, and nights alone on my couch. Can she keep up? Will she complain?

  Does she know that the moment she steps out of my apartment, the cameras will be back? That people, fans, will watch her every move? They’ll track what she eats, wears, and where she goes every single day. Will she smile for them like she smiles for me? Or will reality hurt her, much like reality is hurting us now? Does she burp in public? Is she the type of girl who is constantly in her stretch pants and a tank top because it’s today’s norm on what dressed up looks like?

  What does she look like dressed up in a fancy gown with her hand resting on my arm? How will she react on the red carpet? As my wife, the public expects her to be there and what if she can’t? Joey didn’t come on this show to marry a celebrity; she just got lucky, or unlucky in her case. She also wasn’t expecting to have her marriage annulled once the show stopped airing either. I feel sorry that she got stuck with a bastard like me.

  Running my hands through my hair, I sigh heavily. It’s good for the ratings, me contemplating my answer. It gives others a hope they didn’t know they were looking for, that they could snag someone famous. Joey, even though she wouldn’t want this, is the poster girl for all women who have celebrity crushes.

  “Yeah, of course, but shouldn’t the question be whether or not she’s looking forward to a future with me?” I stand and leave the confession room before they can ask another question. Being put on the spot is not something I enjoy. I don’t know many who do, but usually I’m prepared with a “no comment” or I can offer a smile and a slight shake of my head and that usually gets the reporters off kilter enough that they move on. Not this time. I can’t look them in the eye when they ask, and that bothers me.

  The house is empty when I step out. The sound of laughter is faint and coming from outside. It’s too nice to be inside and when you have walls surrounding you, tensions seem to run high. Walking through the house, I look in the rooms for Joey as fear runs through me, wondering if I’ll find her with Bronx. I don’t think Joey is that type, but he is. He has no qualms weaseling his way into an existing relationship and I have no doubt he’d do the same with Joey, given half the chance.

  As I step outside, the California sun blinds me. Immediately, my arm is up, covering my eyes as I try to adjust and work past the dark spots. Amanda and Millie are sunbathing. Gary and Cole are working out. My stomach drops as my eyes travel to the laughter and I find my wife and enemy in the pool together, with his wife wa
tching. I think I’d be okay if Rebekah was in the water, but she’s just sitting there, in a dress while Joey is in her bikini, sitting on Bronx’s shoulders.

  If absence makes the heart grow fonder, it’s working. I want what I cannot have, what I pushed away. I had her, and she’s slipping through my fingers. I don’t know if it’s just pure stupidity or my ego getting in my way, it doesn’t really matter because right now all I can see is Bronx screwing up my life again.

  I have to ask myself if the money is worth it because right now, the answer is no.

  I’ve never seen the look of jealousy on a man before, until now. Sure, Tony would scoff when I professed my undying love for Joshua when I watched him on TV or saw him in a magazine, but he knew it was just an infatuation and something that would never come to fruition. Looking at Josh now, as he watches Bronx and I in the pool, tells me that he’s jealous, but of what? Is it the fact that I have a friend in the house or the fact that my friend is Bronx? Neither should really matter because he’s already tossed me out like yesterday’s trash. The end is looming for us. It’s flashing like an airport beacon getting ready for a plane to land. Even after we’ve been together, he hasn’t said things are different. Words are usually spilled in the heat of passion, but not from Josh.

  I can’t change Josh’s mind. I’ve tried repeatedly and have only continued to hurt myself in the process. Would I rather be with him right now, and not when we leave this house? Yes, in a heartbeat, but he doesn’t want that. He has Jules waiting for him on the outside and I don’t care what he says, he’ll end up with her. He always does.

  I tap Bronx’s shoulder, letting him know I want to get down, but it’s not soon enough. Josh is already back in the house with a weak attempt at slamming a sliding glass door. I don’t even know why I was up there to begin with, or why I didn’t ask to be put down right away. When he swam under my legs and lifted me up, it caught me off guard, but I thought it was all in good fun. Seeing Josh’s expression, though, tells me that he finds nothing funny with this situation.

  “I should go find Josh,” I state as soon as my feet touch the bottom of the swimming pool. Bronx holds my waist and allows tiny water droplets to fall onto his face without a care in the world. I find it rather annoying myself, but whatever. His hazel eyes make up for my annoyance and there’s no mistaking how women can become lost while looking into them. Maybe it’s an actor thing and part of the mystery of being so sickeningly beautiful. I’m not sure, but looking him in the eyes is dangerous and should be avoided at all times.

  “I’m sure he’s fine.” Bronx half slants his head toward the door and as I glance around, I notice that Josh is the only one inside, and he’s alone. Normally, I’d be an eager beaver and go running to find him especially since I haven’t seen him all day.

  “I have to go,” I say as I step away from his grasp. Even though his fingers linger on my skin when I move away, I don’t turn back as I rush out of the pool and into the house. As soon as I step inside, I regret not grabbing a towel because the air conditioner is on full blast and the house is freezing. I cross my arms over my chest and run toward my bedroom where I find Josh packing his clothes.

  “What are you doing?”

  He doesn’t stop or look at me as he continues throwing his clothes into his bag. I’m half wondering if he emptied the contents, and this is his way of organizing his things, since neither of us have actually unpacked due to always changing rooms.

  I find a towel and quickly dry off the water and step into a pair of sweatpants, slipping a T-shirt on over my head before placing my hand on his.

  “Josh?”

  His gaze meets mine and I wish it hadn’t. His eyes are on fire; he’s angry with me. He rips his hand away from underneath mine and continues to throw his clothes in his bag.

  “Joshua,” I say his name again in hopes that he’ll at least talk to me.

  “Don’t. You don’t get to talk to me right now.”

  “Excuse me?” I commit the most childish act known to mankind and pull his bag away from him. He sighs and drops whatever piece of clothing he has in his hand.

  “Joey, I don’t want to fight.”

  “Well I do, so let’s have it.” I cross my arms in defiance and stare him down. Maybe this was the problem with Tony. When he said he cheated, I accepted it. I didn’t try to fight for us, not that I would have, but I was so indifferent with everything. Yes, my heart broke and I shed far too many tears but I didn’t call him, text him, or even answer his emails. Once he said the words, I ran and never looked back.

  I can do that with Josh, too, because we’re ending. We have an expiration date, as much as I wish that weren’t true, it is. However, I’m not willing to end on bad terms. I want to say that things were happy and fantastic for the ninety-days we were married. I don’t want to walk out of this house with regrets.

  Josh runs his hand through his hair and offers up a pained half ass grimace. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s got a broken bone or something with the way he’s looking at me.

  “I don’t want to fight, Joey.” His voice has changed. He’s not angry, but sounds defeated, almost sad.

  Did I do this to him? If so, it wasn’t my intention. The last thing I want to do is hurt him even though he’s hurting me. He’ll never know it, though. I’ll never be able to tell him how much it hurts knowing he’s walking away from me, from us, before we’re even given a chance.

  I sit down on the edge of the bed, pulling my leg up under me. “I’m not looking for a fight either, but we need to talk about what you saw outside.”

  He shakes his head and sighs. When he walks past me I think for a moment that he’s leaving me here, but he’s just shutting the door to give us some privacy from our housemates. I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s showing me a vulnerability that is often hidden behind the walls he keeps up.

  Joshua sits next to me, keeping the standard “friend” space in between us. “I know I made a mistake last night by asking you to stay away from Bronx. I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

  “You didn’t,” I say, slightly confused as to why he thinks he did. I try to reach out to him, but he shies away. Any progress I was making in bringing down his walls has evaporated.

  “I must’ve because you didn’t come to bed last night—”

  I hold up my hand, telling him to stop talking. But before I can finish, Linda instructs us to all go to the living room.

  “Figures,” he says as he gets up. I expect him to wait for me, but he doesn’t. The door slides open fast, and he’s muttering something as he disappears down the hall. I follow behind and by the time I reach the living room, he’s already sitting on the love seat.

  I take the seat next to him thinking he’ll lean into me like he usually does, but he’s still angry, even more so now that we were interrupted. As soon as everyone’s in the living room, Patrick Jonas appears on the screen. His smile is creepy and I’m starting to despise him.

  “Newlyweds, how are we all doing?”

  Bronx and Rebekah are the first to answer with a rambunctious ‘super’. I roll my eyes and try to focus on Josh. I can tell his teeth are grinding by the twitching in his jaw. His leg is bouncing up and down, and it’s obvious that he’s eager to get the hell out of here.

  “We have a luxury competition for you tonight, a night out at the movies. Before you get too excited—this is a singles competition. One husband and one wife will win. You will not be competing as teams in this one. Everyone to the backyard, please.”

  “What the … are they …” Josh grabs his hair in what I can only guess is frustration and lets out an awful sound. It’s a cross between a grunt and scream. I don’t know what to do to because aside from how ridiculous this game sounds, he wants to win, and that’s what we usually try to do together—as a team.

  “Come on, let’s go win,” I say as I grab his hand and pull him outside. As soon as I see the setup, it’s clear that the producers have upgraded this par
ticular game to obnoxious levels and it’s complete and utter crap.

  “This is so cool,” Gary yells out as he claps his hands.

  “Do they really expect us to fight each other?” Millie asks, standing next to me.

  “No, they expect Bronx and I to fight, and for the rest of you to pick sides.” Josh walks toward the ring that is set up in the middle of the yard. Hanging from eight different hooks in different colors are sumo suits. I’ve seen these in videos—they might look fun but it’s something I’ve never wanted to try.

  “I’m going to ruin my nails.” I look at Amanda and shake my head. Millie and I walk toward the hooks with Amanda and Rebekah on our heels. We stand there, inspecting the awful plastic looking suits that they expect us to climb into.

  “Oh God, I’m going to chafe.”

  “You know, for once, I agree with you, Amanda.” I give her a wink. She’s right, we’re going to chafe, and it’s not going to be pretty.

  “Well, you could always just lose,” Rebekah suggests as she takes her suit down from the hook.

  “Oh the hell we will,” Millie replies as she grabs her suit.

  “I’m not going to like this,” Amanda says, and for the second time today I agree with her. I’m going to hate this game, but there’s no way in hell I’m losing. Even though we aren’t competing with each other, Josh has to feel the same way. That’s been our goal from the beginning, to win. Win the competitions so we can win the fan votes. Sure, we’ve lost a few, but the effort has been there.

  “Look on the bright side,” I say to Amanda as I pull my suit down.

  “And the bright side would be that I can kick your ass and not get kicked off the show?” She smirks, which only fuels my desire to whack her upside her head.

  “If you’re lucky, you may end up with a night at the movies with either Josh or Bronx,” I reply with a highly sarcastic tone as I lean into her. “But be careful, neither of them like women who pick their seat.”