“Mm-hmm,” she hums.“Your favorite.”
“How do you know that?”I ask, feeling very certain now that something bad is definitely going to happen today.
“I have my ways.”She winks.“So, how’s it going with the song?”I watch as her fingers pluck at the shoulders of her baggy sweater until the neck is off-center, baring just a sliver of a freckled shoulder.
“It’s good.I’ve got most of it memorized.I can play it for you, if you want?”I turn back towards the stage, assuming the answer is yes.I mean, that is why we’re here.But just as I lift myself back onto the stage, she stops me.
“Wait, Levi.”
I want to ask why and for what, but the slam of the door tells me I’m about to find out.This time there’s no clacking of heels or heavy shoes.Whoever it is walks without making any sound.Almost like a...deer.No...But sure enough, Tate comes into view.She smiles from under her long, half-dried hair.
“Tate, you made it and in such good timing.Come, sit over here by Levi.I got you a chai latte with whole milk, is that right?”she asks in a way that says she already knows.
“Yes, that’s amazing.Thank you.”It occurs to me then that she didn’t ask how Jan knew that was her favorite drink.The conspiracy theories start to stack in my brain, and if I’m not careful, I could be one bad thought from a complete blackout panic attack.I concentrate on my breathing.One Mississippi...
“Okay, so I bet you’re wondering why you’re both here.This is a singing competition, yes, but before that, it’s a TV show...”
I see Tate’s eyes circle to mine in my periphery.I don’t meet them; I keep my eyes firmly on Jan, focusing on every word that comes out of those lips so I can dissect them later.
“What does a TV show have to do with us though?”I ask, knowing I’ll regret it.
Jan glances at me sidelong.“I’m getting to that.Thank you, Levi.Cameras.Some big, some small.Some so small, you might not even notice them.In places like a kitchen pantry...”
Tate’s whole mouth flings open, chai coming out in tiny coughs.“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”She grabs a napkin from the coffee carrier.A rose-like shade blossoms up her neck and cheeks.Obviously, I know what she’s implying, but I don’t care and am certainly not as affected as Tate is.
“What’s your angle, Jan?It’s not like that’s going to air on the show.”
She looks at me with narrow eyes.“I’m not finished.Ahem, cameras.They can be outside by the lawn furniture or inside, say, a recording studio.”
My chest tightens and my breathing goes shallow.I pull my fingers into a fist, clenched at my side.I’m nobody’s plaything.
She smiles.“This is all to say, you two make great television.”My eyes flick over to Tate.
“We...make good TV?”Tate repeats.
“Very good!”Jan confirms.“From the awkward first meeting on the driveway to catching Romeo here with the bartender, to last night’s...”
“No consent,” I say, standing.Tate looks over wide-eyed.
“I’m sorry?”Jan says, but it’s tight.
“I don’t consent.I don’t want that footage aired.”
She chuckles and it’s downright devious.“Oh, honey, you already gave me consent when you signed the agreement to be on the show.It’s airing, and the only thing you have control of now is what happens next.”I feel the darkness coming from around the edge of my eyes and I sit back down, taking careful, sweeping breaths.
“I brought you both here,” she continues, “to let you know I’m changing your set.”
I press my hands into my face, attempting to suppress the rising frustration and impending panic attack.“Jan, I’ve spent the last however many hours learning this song.The song you picked and okayed!”I’m yelling now and I know that’s not cool.Regardless of what happens, I need to keep my temper on lock.Localized heat circles my back.I peek through my fingers.Tate has moved closer and is rubbing her hands in soothing circles.I hate how much it helps.How much I like it.What am I doing?Here?With Tate?Nothing is making sense.None of this is part of the plan.I stand to leave.I need a walk, I need fresh air.Air that doesn’t exist in this concrete jungle.I almost make it to the door before a small hand wraps itself halfway around my arm.I look down unamused.
“Let me go, Tate.”
“No, you said you were going to win this contest.”
“Yeah, that was before it became The Bachelor.”She lets go and my feet stop moving.
“Come on...the Levi I know wouldn’t let that stop him.”
“You don’t know me.And I don’t know you.It’s been barely two weeks, Tate.I don’t think anyone’s at liberty to say what someone usually does or doesn’t do.”With each word, she takes one small step backwards, till we’re no longer side by side.Her eyes slide down along with her smile.Hurt is etched across her face.I want so badly to reach out, to apologize, to tell her she’s right about me.But I don’t.Instead, I take the final steps out of the studio.
