"Welcome to today’s episode ofPaint and Spill. I’m your host, Trevor Lockwood. Joining us is none other than new music sensation, Olive Herring." He turns his attention to me, and I give him an awkward wave. "Olive, I assume you know how this works?"
No. I’ve never watched a single episode. I found out this segment existed in the car ride over here. "Yes."
The lie comes out easier than I expected it to, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he looks away from me, filling in the audience while I pay close attention to the rules so I don’t mess this up.
From what I gather, it all seems pretty straightforward.
He fires question after question at me, and I answer them to the best of my ability, while we sip our champagne and paint a picture on the blank canvas in front of us.
Once he’s finished his explanation, I determine that while I haven’t got a single creative bone in my body outside of music, I will do my best to try to paint whatever image he tells me to.
He picks up a cue card from in front of him, clearing his throat before reading it out loud. I feel my cheeks heat at the look he gives me, and I know in my gut that I’m not about to like what he’s going to say.
"The image we’re painting today is a basketball court." He smiles with an eyebrow raised, and I immediately know the way this interview is going to go.
Of course, an interview aboutmycareer is somehow flipped and focused on a man I barely even know.
I should've seen it coming.
Here. We.Go.
***
‘She’s so robotic.’
‘Is there anything else to her other than her ability to sing songs?’
‘How can anyonenotfind her boring??? Seriously.’
‘Trevor is asking her all the right questions, but it’s like having a conversation with a tree.’
‘Oh my god, how does my girlfriend like this chick?’
‘She’s such a plain Jane. I think I fell asleep watching this interview like, three times. At least her voice is soothing, I guess.’
‘YAS QUEEN, give us absolutely nothing.’
‘Why does she deflect when asked about my boy? Seems Avery already has her on a short leash.’
‘At least Jones doesn’t have to worry about her talking too much during—’
"Surely you’ve read enough of those comments?" My attention snaps to Josie, my eyes burning from my fixation on the screen. I watch her over the top of my laptop screen, her expression all too smug. Like she’s caught me doing something embarrassing, and cannot wait to tell my parents.
I didn’t think the interview would go live right away, but it was uploaded to YouTube almost immediately after we got back to our hotel. The views climbed quickly, and comments rolled in with it.
I knew people could be assholes, but I didn’t think it would have this type of emotional impact on me. Maybe I’m not as tough as I used to be. Or maybe living in a small town didn’t truly prepare me for the real world and the harsh realities.
I did well, though. I avoided any questions about my personal life at any cost, like my PR training taught me to do. I could tell Trevor was getting frustrated.
I may have intentionally not given him a lot when he tried to squeeze me dry, but I also live a very boring life. Nothing exciting is happening to me aside from the tour.
It’s as simple as that.
I don’t have a love life, I definitely don’t have a sex life, because all I really have time for is work. And even then, I haven’t even had the time to try to write anything new.
I woke up this morning to texts, phone calls, and Instagram messages, all from people wanting to know what was happening between Avery and me, to which I responded, ‘absolutely nothing.’ My family believed me, but Lizzie was disappointed. She told me she wanted to live vicariously through me because the men back home were simply boring, or already happily married.
I laughed it off and changed the subject to Willow.
