Unscripted

by Natalie Aaron

  Of course Joe decides to share his story, and it’s no surprise; it involved nachos, a kegger and a Super Bowl party. After being pressed, the girls all claim they are ineligible for membership, but I swear the blonde one was blushing.

  I shift my weight from one foot to another and wonder how long I have to be here tonight. It’s 10:30 p.m., but I’ve been here since 11:00 a.m. and my eyes are already feeling heavy.

  I turn to Christine. “I’m going to the production room to grab a cup of coffee. You want anything?”

  “No, I’m cool,” she says without looking up from her clipboard.

  “Okay, I’ll be right back. You have a good time.” Christine shoots me a dirty look as I skirt away.

  Walking down the hall inside the house, I notice hushed whispers emerging from the back office. That’s not unusual for a shoot day, so I continue on and walk straight into what appears to be a particularly cozy moment between Will and Lisa. They’re sitting very close together, as in millimeters apart, and Lisa has just taken her hand away from Will’s face. Startled by my appearance, both turn in their chairs to look at me.

  “Oh, uh, hi there. I’m just going to grab a cup of coffee and I’ll be out of your hair.” I rush over to the coffeemaker as I swallow an inexplicable lump in my throat.

  That didn’t look like work. That was intimate. What the hell? The image of Will kissing Lisa creeps into my head, and an angry flush burns at my cheeks. How could he be into her? Judging by the way he reacted to Sasha Leeds I would think he’d see right through this crazy beyotch.

  “Hey, Abby,” Will says a little too cheerfully. “We decided to watch the action from the monitors. It’s important that the guys don’t think they’re being scrutinized tonight.”

  “Mmm hmm,” I say as I load my coffee with three spoonfuls of sugar.

  “You know, that shit’s terrible for your body.” Lisa glances over her shoulder and stares directly at my ass. “It’s not fat that makes you fat. I stopped eating carbs a year ago because they turn straight to sugar.”

  I take a sip of my coffee and smile, trying not to show how conscious I am that one of my thighs equal two of hers. “Guess I’m just saving my body that extra digestive step.”

  Will laughs uncomfortably, slowly edging farther away from Lisa’s chair.

  “Funny,” Lisa says, turning back toward the monitors.

  “How’s it going out there?” Will asks.

  “It’s good. Ryan already went to bed. The other guys are just getting progressively more drunk.”

  “Okay, just make sure no one gets too drunk. They shouldn’t even be in the hot tub while they’re drinking. Keep an eye on them. I don’t want anyone getting hurt,” Will says.

  “Sure,” I say, making my way back toward the door.

  “Holy shit!” Lisa leans closer to one of the TV monitors. “One of the guys just snuck up the back stairs with a girl. Abby, go and grab a camera guy and get the hell up there now!”

  Without saying another word, I sprint out of the room, thankful for a reason to escape.

  I search for Grant outside and finally spot him standing by the pool. “Hey, Lisa just saw one of the guys going upstairs with a girl.” I point to the back of the house. “He snuck up the back staircase.”

  “Goddammit.” Grant shakes his head. “Who is it?”

  “I couldn’t tell. She noticed it on one of the stationary house cameras.”

  “Okay. Take Devon and Mitch with you.” He gestures to a cameraman and sound guy.

  “Go upstairs and find where they’re hiding.”

  I nod my head, grab both guys and creep straight up the marble staircase toward the east wing.

  I peek in three of the four bedrooms, which by the way are all absolutely disgusting. Not one piece of clothing is hanging in any of the closets. Shoes, dirty cups and plates filled with half-eaten food litter the floor. I wrinkle up my nose because the smell reminds me of old cream cheese. It’s a damn good thing Katie never goes into this end of the house or she’d be canceling her contract with the network and catching the next flight out of town.

  The last room is also a nightmare, all except for Ryan’s corner. His clothes are all neatly folded and are placed lovingly in the cubbyhole beside his bed. The floor surrounding him is spotless, and even his bed is made though he is currently lying on top of it, sans shirt (Will and Lisa who?) reading a book.

  “Hey, did you see one of the guys come upstairs a few minutes ago?” I whisper from the doorway to the Greek God with the washboard stomach.

  He shoots me an all-knowing grin. Ryan is the kind of guy who will rat anyone out in this game. I’ve got to hand it to him. The boy wants to win.

  “Well, I did happen to hear a few voices coming from a bathroom in the first room on the left,” he says, placing the book down on his chest.

  I smile, whisper a quick “thanks” and drag the guys back to the first room. This time, however, I notice a strip of light peeking underneath the bedroom’s en-suite bathroom door. Damn. How did I miss that?

  “Do I knock?” I mouth to Devon, the cameraman. He shakes his head.

  “There’s a camera in there,” he whispers in my ear. “The guy’s probably so drunk he doesn’t even remember. Let him hang himself.”

  I tiptoe to the bathroom and place my ear silently against the door. At first, I can’t hear a thing, but after a few moments there is the distinct sound of a woman’s giggle. I turn to Mitch, the sound guy, to make sure he can hear everything. He touches his headphones and nods a yes. Thankfully, the couple forgot to take off their mics, which is expressly forbidden anyway, but cast members try to get away with it all the time. So now we have them on camera, and they’re still mic’d, and they have no idea that we’re catching every sordid detail that’s going on in that tiny bathroom.

  After an eternity of giggles, whispers, kissing sounds and, God help me, moans, the bathroom door finally opens. Stripper Girl comes out first adjusting her bikini top, sees us and immediately starts to laugh. “Holy shit, Frank! You’re so busted.”

  Frank shrugs his shoulders and plops onto a big comfy chair. “Big fucking deal.”

  “Hey, I need to grab an OTF with you, Frank,” I say.

  “Why not. Don’t run away, Jasmine.”

  “I’ll just be over here, baby,” Stripper Jasmine says as she adjusts her bikini top.

  I look over at Devon and roll my eyes. He smiles and crouches down next to Frank in order to get a good close-up.

  “So, Frank, what were you doing in the bathroom?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Can you please include my question in your answer?”

  “I was doing nothing in the bathroom.”

  “Can you tell me who you were doing nothing in the bathroom with?”

  “I was doing nothing in the bathroom with this lovely lady over here.” Frank points to scantily clad Jasmine who is now standing next to the window, fluffing out her hair in preparation for her big camera debut.

  Devon pans over to her as she makes her way back toward Frank. She sits in his lap as he places both arms around her neck.

  “What do you think Katie will say?”

  “Dude, Katie’s dating all of us at the same time. Why can’t us guys have a little fun? Right, baby?”

  “Yeah,” Jasmine says, cracking her gum loudly.

  I smile at Frank. “That’s a good point. So, you don’t think this will affect your strategy? Actually, what is your strategy?”

  He pauses for a second. “Well, I know Katie. And she’s a pretty jealous girl. So, I figure, if she finds out about this, it’ll drive her fucking nuts. I remember one time in the eleventh grade she heard I made out with Betsy Hanover, and she fucking bawled to me about it for hours, but then apologized for being such a bitch and begged me to take her back. This is my strategy!”

  “Uh huh.” I nod my head. “Well, it sounds like you know Katie pretty well.”

  “I know Katie better than any of the dickhea
ds here.” He smiles smugly.

  “Okay then. Do you have a message for Katie?”

  Frank looks into the camera. “Once you pick me, I’m all yours. Until then, you’ll just have to share The Frank.”

  “Great. Thanks.” I turn to Jasmine. “Do you have anything you want to add?”

  “Nope,” she says as Frank nuzzles her neck.

  “All righty. Let’s all go back downstairs. Sound good?”

  No longer acknowledging my existence, the couple head out of the room, arm in arm, as Devon, Mitch and I follow closely behind.

  I think I know who Katie will be getting rid of in the next elimination.

  It’s 12:30 a.m. and the party is finally winding down. We were paying the girls by the hour, so they left promptly at midnight. There were no big goodbyes between Frank and Jasmine. Just a quick hug, and kiss on the cheek.

  Christine and I are now sitting on the terrace steps watching the guys in the hot tub discussing the evening’s events. I’m exhausted. It’s been a long night. Plus, I still have that drive home from Malibu to West Hollywood, which will take me at least forty-five minutes. I have to keep reminding myself that I willingly signed up for this job. I believe my words to Will were, “I have no life.” Why did I do that again?

  “Abby.”

  I hear a curt voice echoing behind me from inside the house. Turning around, I see Lisa standing with Knit Cap. I almost forgot about the incident with her and Will earlier. Stretching out my arms and legs, I stand up, yawn and walk over to them.

  “Hey, I want you and Tom to go back to the office and edit all of the footage with Frank and that girl so it’s ready for Katie to view in the morning,” Lisa says as she glances at her expensive diamond-encrusted watch.

  Tom scratches his head through his ridiculous purple cap. God forbid he should ever take it off. “Sounds good to me,” he says through a mouthful of crooked teeth.

  I must have a look of horror on my face because Lisa continues. “I know it’s late, but the tapes were already sent back to the office and have been digitized into the Avid so they’ll be ready to go when you guys get in.”

  I begin to frown, and I mean really frown, like an “I want you to get hit by a bus” frown. I cannot believe that this woman wants me to go with my least favorite person back to our office in Hollywood and edit the Frank and Jasmine footage now. I’ve been here for thirteen and a half hours, for God’s sake.

  I can’t hold it in. Up until this point, I’ve been super-polite, but now I’m pissed, I’m tired, I’m cranky and I’m hungry. “You know, Tom is a lead editor. He seriously doesn’t need me. It’s only going to be a short clip reel for Katie. No big story arcs. I’m pretty sure he’s got it covered.”

  “I want a producer there with him. We can’t afford for anything to go wrong.”

  “I’ll come too,” pipes up Christine, who has just sneaked up behind us. “I want more edit bay experience. Plus, the more the merrier.”

  “That’s fine. The three of you guys can take the production van back down to the parking lot. It shouldn’t take you more than half an hour to get back to the office.”

  I can’t let this go without a fight. “What time is Katie going to watch the footage tomorrow?”

  “Around eleven in the morning.”

  “Well then, maybe you can get a producer who wasn’t on tonight, along with another editor, to come into the office at around 6:00 tomorrow morning? Doesn’t that make more sense?”

  Lisa places one hand on her hip. “No, it doesn’t. I don’t want anything to go wrong. What happens if the Avid crashes? Or the footage wasn’t digitized properly? There wouldn’t be enough time to edit it and get it over to us by eleven. Plus, it’s too late to call anyone now. I’m sorry, but you guys are just going to have to do it. I don’t hear anyone else complaining.” She waves her hand toward Christine and Tom. “You guys can all take tomorrow off.”

  “But tomorrow is my wire-working date. It took me days to set that thing up.”

  Lisa shrugs her shoulders. “It’s not a big deal. Amy can produce it. Just sleep in tomorrow. Relax. Maybe get your hair done or something.” A subtle but oh-so-malicious smile emerges from the side of her mouth.

  Lisa is a bad bad woman.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Nothing beats a paper cup full of Oreos to get you through a fifteen-hour shift. At least that’s what I’m telling myself as I walk from the office’s craft service table, back to the dimly lit edit bay, clasping my second helping of cookies.

  Knit Cap, Christine and I have been at the office for over an hour trying to cut the reel for Katie. Unfortunately, the Avid has crashed three times, so we’ve barely made a dent in our work. It’s odd, because during that down time, we’ve all been pretty quiet. Normally, Knit Cap would be yapping away, cracking bad jokes, flirting shamelessly and yelling out his trademark “Titty!” at every cut. But tonight, he’s acting all businesslike and professional. It’s completely bizarre. When he does speak, it’s only about the content of the footage and how we should arrange it. I’m almost tempted to ask him if he’s feeling okay.

  Even Christine, who’s sitting a good three feet behind us on a black vinyl couch, hasn’t said a word. Twice I’ve had to turn around to make sure she was still awake.

  “I’m just observing you guys. I’m not sleeping,” she says, putting on her oval tortoise-shell glasses.

  “Okay, but you’re pretty quiet over there. Maybe you should just go home and get some sleep.”

  “I really don’t have much experience in the bay, I want to stay.”

  “Mmm. Okay, but no snoring.” I turn back to Knit Cap. “So since we only have the one stationary camera in the bathroom, and nothing to cut to, I think you should just take the most salacious moments, and then fade to black in between each moment.”

  “Got it. Which moments do you want?” asks Knit Cap without even turning to look at me.

  “The first one can be when they walk into the bathroom and lock the door. Then let’s use the one where you see them kissing by the shower. Then we’ll do the one where he picks her up and puts her on the sink and they make out for a bit. Last, I say use the shot where he takes her legs and puts them around his hips. We’ll fade to black one more time and then show them walking out.” I look straight at Tom, waiting for some kind of response. How can he resist it? This is a perfect moment for an obnoxious Knit Cap comment.

  Instead, he nods his head, gives me the thumbs-up and starts to type away. Maybe it’s the fact that we’ve all been working around the clock. Or perhaps he’s just trying to act cool in front of Christine. Either way, I’m surprised, but relieved.

  As Knit Cap bangs away on the keyboard, Christine leans over to me. “I can’t believe how bitchy you were to Lisa tonight. It was hilarious.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Arguing with her about working tonight. I’ve never seen anyone talk to her like that.”

  “Like what? I wasn’t bitchy. Maybe a little cranky, but certainly not bitchy. I was just giving her some constructive criticism about her plan, that’s all.”

  “No one argues with Queen Lisa,” Knit Cap adds with a smile. “Didn’t you see how red her face was getting?”

  “Mmm hmm, it was bitchy.” Christine taps her pen on her notebook.

  “Come on! It was ridiculous having us come here so late. Have a better plan, Crazy,” I say, my arms flailing.

  “She is gonna torture you,” Christine sings.

  “What about you? ‘The more the merrier,’” I say, imitating Christine’s squeaky little voice.

  “Hey, you were on your own. I was just trying to defuse the situation.”

  “Traitor,” I say jokingly. “Eh, I’m off tomorrow, this will all be forgotten.”

  “Doubt it.”

  Yeah, me too.

  “So.” Knit Cap spins around in his chair and faces us. “Who else has picked up on the sexual vibe between Lisa and Will?”

  The image
of Lisa pulling her hand away from Will’s face appears in my head. My stomach lurches at the thought. But why? I don’t like Will in that way. I respect him, sure. I think he’s a great guy. He’s smart, and yes, even handsome, but that’s it. He deserves better than Lisa.

  “I haven’t really noticed. They don’t act like a couple,” Christine says.

  “They’re together all the time. Plus, Mike the grip said he heard two people going at it in the hedge maze two nights ago.” Knit Cap smirks at Christine. “It would only make sense if it were those two. They disappear and shit all the time.”

  I shift uncomfortably around in my chair. “Really?”

  “Hell yeah. I see the way he checks her out. He’s totally into her. Guys know these things.”

  That’s so not Will’s style. He’s refined. Professional. I could never see him ravaging a woman yards away from the rest of his crew. Plus, Lisa would never do it in a bunch of bushes. Only the Four Seasons for that Jimmy Choo stiletto-wearing shrew. I shake my head to get rid of the image.

  I turn to Christine, hoping she’ll dispute this Neanderthal’s opinion, but she’s focused on scraping off her chipped nail polish. “What do you think?” I ask, trying to be casual. Inside, my stomach is churning. “You think it could have been Will and Lisa in the maze?”

  Christine shoots Knit Cap a dirty look. “I doubt anyone was in that hedge maze. Everyone knows Mike’s full of shit. He probably made the whole thing up.”

  Knit Cap shrugs his shoulders and turns back toward the Avid. Both of them are clearly done with the discussion and want to get back to work.

  I shove an entire Oreo cookie in my mouth and resolve myself to the fact that Lisa and Will are not a couple. And even if they were, I wouldn’t care at all.

  After my hell day, I sleep until noon, and awake to find Zoë in campaign mode. Her goal? A bonding dinner with Douglas. She says it’s a rare occurrence for me to be home (of course she doesn’t mention that it’s also a rare occurrence for her to be home) so we might as well take advantage of it. Zoë has a way of making me feel guilty.