“Four!Three!Two!”I force a smile that stiff and fake.
Thick smoke shoots up, lights explode in bursts of color, and the screen goes black before the campaign video rolls.It runs for less than twenty seconds, but after that, the ad with Alan and me is scheduled to play—a full forty seconds.
The product clip ends, and the screen freezes for a few seconds.Sweat trickles down my back even though the December air bites at my skin.And then it happens.
“Hmm…”My face fills the screen, my voice a loud mumble over the speakers.
“Hi, can I help you with something?”The pharmacist’s voice cuts in, clear as day.She’s the same woman now standing off to the side of the stage, watching herself act with me on the giant screen.
* * *
I’m stretched out on the sofa in my apartment.Jessy’s still glued to his phone, fielding questions from reporters and juggling posts on both my personal and office social media accounts.
The condom brand launch is over, and the response is overwhelming.The whole point of the ad was to make buying condoms look as normal as picking up a bottle of vitamin at the pharmacy.
Did it grab attention the way we hoped?Hell yes.The ad goes viral on social media, spreading like fire at a blown-up gas station.Celebrity gossip sites are already crediting Mallory West as the brain behind the idea.
Not everyone takes it the way we intended though, and criticism starts pouring in.The comments section is flooded with condemnation, insults, and full-on bullying.Our supporters are fighting it out with haters, while the controversy itself climbs to the top of the trending list under ‘#condomad.’
“Oh, shit.”Jessy drops onto the sofa next to me.
His shoulders slump and he presses his temples like his skull’s about to crack.He tosses his phone onto the coffee table with a rough thud.
“Is it really that bad?”I ask him.
“They’ve lost their minds.I can’t take this anymore.They’re literally calling for a boycott.”
“Christ.”My voice comes out weak, and I’ve got nothing comforting to add.
“Gimme that.”Jessy holds out a hand for the unopened beer can on the table.I pass it over, he pops it open and chugs, only to start coughing right away.
“Hey, slow down,” I say, grabbing a bottle of warm mineral water from the table and patting his back while he hacks.
He sets the beer down and gulps the water until his throat clears.My body drops back onto the sofa, and I crack open my third can, taking a long pull.The buzz hits me fast, leaving me a little tipsy.
Yeah, being drunk is easier than dealing with all this pressure and madness.The ad’s been out less than twenty-four hours and already people are split, screaming on both sides.There’s nothing I can do about it, so I just keep drinking to numb myself.
Now I’m floating, and I don’t give a damn what happens to that ad anymore.If it gets boycotted, fine—at least no one will watch it.It’ll disappear overnight, buried under threats and moral outrage about public sex talk.
But I don’t say any of that to Jessy.He’s been working his ass off to keep my image intact, and this might be the hardest hit of his career as my agent.His head must already be packed with stress, and I’m not about to push him over the edge.
Most importantly, Laird won’t be able to see it again.He promised me he wouldn’t even go looking.
I glance at the wall clock.It’s already five p.m., he should be done with work by now.Has he caved and seen it anyway?I haven’t had the guts to check my phone since I walked back into the apartment.
At least for tonight, I’m cutting myself off.I’m too burned out after the campaign to deal with anyone else.I pull on a thick blanket and curl up tighter on the sofa, trying to keep warm.
Me:
The ad’s catching heat.I’ll be holed up at the apartment, drinking with Jessy if you want to find me.
That’s the last message I send to Laird.
8
Eureka!
Laird
