“By whom?” Will whispers in my ear.
“Dylan, obviously,” I murmur back to him, and we both silently chuckle.
We’re standing behind a curtain just off the stage, waiting for our cue, and to be honest, I’m perspiring a little due to the hot studio lights and an absolute fear of the unknown. Will seems positively giddy with anticipation while I pretty much feel like vomiting. Did I mention this is being filmed live? Oh, yes, I did. But, there’s also a live studio audience. Why do people say a live audience? As opposed to a dead one? When has that ever happened? “This show was filmed before a dead studio audience.”
Dammit, Arabella, focus, already!
Dylan walks across the stage while she says, “Now, if you haven’t been living under a rock for the past few months, you already know that ABN has a very special nature documentary series coming your way starring the gorgeous and talented Princess Arabella herself and, of course, Will Banks, one of the world’s greatestand hottestoutdoor enthusiasts. We whisked them off to the Congo and dropped them into the jungle where they were forced to make their way out with nothing but their wits and each other.”
Dramatic pause and hair flip. “And let me tell you folks, things got pretty steamy out there in the jungle, if you get my drift.” She aims an open-mouthed wink into the camera. “So, without further ado, let’s get them out here, shall we?”
The audience bursts into applause. Will takes my hand and we walk out onto the stage together. I smile brightly while I tighten my grip and pray he won’t let go.
“Welcome, Your Highness and Will!” Dylan says, with her arms open. When we reach her, Will lets go of my hand, and Dylan gives me a kiss on each cheek, then does the same for him.
Now that we’re out on the stage, I can get the lay of the land, and at first glance, I don’t like it even a bit. There’s a cheesy red heart-shaped love seat and matching chair where I’m assuming we’ll conduct the interview portion of things. There are two wooden posts ominously set up on the far side, which have me more than a little concerned because I know they’re not there to dress up the stage since they’re under a large sign that reads “Posts of Defeat.” My eyes land on a counter bearing a sign that says, “Gross Out Kitchen.” There are several plates covered with silver domes which cause the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. What in the bloody hell is crawling around under those shiny domes? Oh bugger, why did I agree to do this?
“Now, you two are probably wondering what is about to happen to you. I know I’d be curious,” Dylan says. “So, I’ll let you in on what we’ll be doing tonight. A normal celebrity interview would be way too dull for the world’s most adventurous couple, so we’ve come up with what might be the most exciting interview format ever. ThinkTruth or DaremeetsSurvivormeetsThe Newlywed Game!”
Will glances at me excitedly, and I mirror his expression while I order my legs not to run out the emergency exit. Oh, they want to run so very, very badly.
Dylan gestures over to the seating area and we follow her over like… two rubes about to be humiliated on national television. We’re all sitting now. There’s a light blinding me, and I squint as she says, “So, it’s no secret that the two of you have been an item for a few months now. Never before has there been a case of two more polar opposites who end up finding love with each other. Will, orphaned at age seven, grew up sailing, surfing, exploring deserted islands in the Caribbean, while the princess grew up in a lush palace with hundreds of servants catering to her every whim. I don’t want to use the wordpampered, but if the glass slipper fits… am I right?”
The audience seems to find this less insulting than I do. Instead of booing her as I hoped they would, they break into laughter while Dylan throws them a wink. Oh, how I wish I could sink into this tacky crimson couch and disappear forever. Actually, no. I wish I had my brother’s ability to snap back with some cutting yet witty remark. Instead, I continue smiling like a very vapid princess. Oh, excuse me, a vapid, pampered princess.
Will covers my hand with his. Oh, that’s nice and warm and comforting right when I need it. God, I love him.
“That’s what I thought at first too, Dylan,” he says.
Wait. What?
I’m about to give him the raised eyebrow when he continues. “But it’s really an unfair characterization of Arabella. Her life hasn’t exactly been all roses. I never realized how much pressure there must be on royal children, what with being hounded relentlessly by the media and being judged for every little thing they do. And like me, she lost a parent at a very young age, which I know from experience makes things quite difficult, but she’s a person who rallies when the chips are down. And I can tell you this is one princess who’s made of pure steel.”
Dylan wrinkles her nose slightly. “Well, we’ll all have to tune in each week to find out if you’re right. On that note, shall we get on with the games?”
The audience cheers, and Will sits forward a little. “Can’t wait.”
I can. I can definitely wait.
Oh God, she’s giving instructions and I’m not hearing a word she’s saying. I’m watching her mouth move, but her words aren’t making any sense.
“…For every wrong answer, you’ll have to eat one of the food items (and I use the term food loosely) from our Gross Out Kitchen!”
Will is picking up two stacks of large white cards and two Sharpie pens. He’s handing me a set and keeping one for himself.
What am I meant to do with these? What are the rules? Why is it so hot up here?
“Lower the No Cheating Wall!”
No Cheating Wall?What the shit is going on? I glance up as a large white divider slowly moves toward us from the high ceiling. Will scoots away from me to give room between us, and I have to say, it feels a bit ironic that something isliterallyseparating two people who only moments earlier promised each other we wouldn’t let anything come between us. The only bit of the man I love that is visible to me now are the tips of his dress shoes. Shit. Now I can’t copy off him, and I have no idea what we’re meant to be doing to avoid eating bugs… or worse.
Dylan holds up some cue cards. “Remember, write down your answers, but don’t say anything or give each other any hints! We’ll start off with something easy. Question one: Arabella, what would Will say is your most attractive attribute? Will, write down the answer, and Your Highness, please write down what youthinkhe’s going to say.”
Bollocks. How isthatthe easy question? It’s obviously my naughty bits, but I can’t exactly write that down, now can I? Breathe. You can answer this. He’ll write something gentlemanly because he won’t want to embarrass me. Lips? No, still sounds dirty. Eyes? He’d never write down anything that lame. Sense of humour? No, I’m not very funny now that I think about it. Dammit. Why can’t I be funny?
“Oh, Princess Arabella is having some trouble with this one. Will was quick to write down his answer, but she is really struggling with this one.”
Shut up. I’m trying to guess what Will wrote down. Sense of style? No. Sense of justice? Yes. That’s it. I take the lid off my Sharpie and get writing. When I finish, I place the card behind the others and look up at Dylan.
