God knows he's given me enough reasons to these past two months.
For starters, fanslovehim. He's the hot new IT boy. His socials are blowing up. He seems to be striking a balance I'm incapable of, being meaner than me but also nicer than me at the same time. The number of memes that came out of the doga session in the park is wild—all of him and his stupidly toned arms in a black rhinestone KUWTV tank top that isn't part of our official merch line, and none of me despite crawling around on all fours like a dog for crying out loud. Viewers are loving his soft, earthy side as much as they live for him giving shit to others becauseothersis mainly me.
Okay,onlyme.
He's rude, arrogant, teasing, and shows up late onlywith me. To the rest of the cast, and to any other people on camera, he's sweet as fucking pie.
I confronted Eddie about the whole thing last week. He denied anything was up at first but eventually caved and confirmed my suspicions. My favorability numbers have been going downhill, and Cabot has been brought in to reinvigorate the show through somevillain vs. villainaction. If he succeeds, guess who won't be getting their contract renewed at the end of the season?
I wonder if Cabot knows he's being played like a puppet. Cast because he has the right look and fits the right mold, a storyline producers want to fill.
But that moment we shared in the hot tub, that was real. I haven't been able to get it out of my head since it happened. We haven't discussed it since, but all I know is there may be more to Cabot Ledger than meets the eye.
So, as much as I would love to hate him for being a walking, talking reminder that my career could be coming to an abrupt, forced end, I can't.
Now, if only I could stop thinking about himat allfor the next five minutes, that would be lovely. I've got a scene to shoot. The story producer is about to give me the lowdown. It's a clinic scene, which are my favorite. I don't know who's going to walk in with what animal. It's the closest thing I get to being a real vet as opposed to just playing one on TV.
"It's a kid," she tells me.
"Right." Once in a while, the producers give me a 'soft segment' to show my human side. Last season, my scene with a single mom struggling to run her ranch after her husband's death went viral when some outtakes leaked showing me actually being, wait for it, nice to her between takes. "How old?" I ask, nervous because I'm not super great with kids. It's not that I don't like them, I just never hang out with them.
"He's nine." She smiles like she's just about to deliver some wonderful news. "And he has special needs."
I push away from the desk even though the assistant director just got me positioned perfectly. "Are you kidding me?"
"What's the problem?"
"What is this show becoming? It's not enough to have all of us parading around in barely anything this season, now you're throwing in some emotional manipulation, too."
"What are you talking about?"
"Did you see the Jacuzzi footage? That wasn't cool. Riff could clearly see Cabot wasn't okay. I signaled to him we should stop, but he pushed for me to keep going. And now you're bringing ina kid who has special needs so that what? We get more views on TikTok? This is bullshit."
"It's the way it is, Scooter. We have to keep the show fresh. Sex sells," she tells me. "And so does emotional manipulation. You're a smart guy. You know that."
She's right. I do.
But since I'm being pushed out anyway, maybe I should stop resisting and just go with it. Why fight the inevitable? It's not as if anyone around here is going to listen to anything I have to say anyway.
"Give the scene to Cabot," I say, unclipping my lav mic from inside my shirt collar. "I don't want to have anything to do with this."
There's a knock on my bedroom door the following night, which is highly unusual. We're not filming, and all five—well, nowsix—of us are under strict instructions not to interact with one another without cameras. It's for continuity, they tell us. The producers don't want anything getting resolved or progressed without capturing it on film. Messes with the narrative, apparently.
I was just about to get into bed, so I’m in my Henley sleep onesie. "Come in," I call out, not bothering to throw anything over the top of it since we've all been copping eyefuls of each other in Speedos lately anyway.
The door opens, and like a thief at the Louvre, Cabot slips in and shuts it behind him without making a sound. He's wearing the same clothes he was for the group dinner scene where the main topic of conversation was us shit-talking Seth and Gabriel, teasing them that they should just hook up already.The producers have been pushing for that storyline since season three, but Seth and Gabe are the two most stubborn people in the world and refuse to relent…even if it's clear as day they're into each other.
"Hey, sorry to barge in on you like this." He stops talking, and even in the faint glow of my bedside lamp, I catch him giving me a once-over.
"You're not supposed to be here," I say, more curious than ticked off.
He fidgets, rolling his weight from one foot to the other. "I know. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
"Why wouldn't I be okay?"
He's clearly restless, and something must be on his mind for him to be breaking the rules like this, so I walk over to the small seating area by the massive window.
Cabot follows. "I heard about you walking out of the clinic scene yesterday. The one with the little boy. I got called in to do it and overheard some of the crew talking about what had happened."
