Chapter 6
Doug
I hadn’t seen Justin Justice in almost twenty years, at least not in person. His music career took off in his teenage years, and he’d been trying to relive the magic for several albums now. I could see why he decided to jump into reality TV. It was a genre that had successfully revived a lot of stalled careers.
When I walked into the photo shoot, he turned and gave me one of his signature Hollywood grins before coming over to pound me on the back in a manly hug. His oversized watch clanked against my shoulder blade.
“Hey, man. Long time no see. How’ve you been?” The concern mixed with pity in his eyes made me feel ten years old again. I strangely preferred the schoolhouse bully version of him to this.
“Things are great. Excited to get started.” I detached myself from him and turned to see Willa leaning against a pillar watching us, watching all the proceedings with a bored look she used when she didn’t want people to know what she was really thinking. She looked like the supermodel she would have been if she wasn’t so short. The hair and makeup people here were a lot better than the small budget team we had at Strength Warriors, though she’d be beautiful in a gunny sack, too.
I knew she had to be incredibly nervous about this whole thing. This show was her baby, and the chemistry between the judges was an important part of that. I’d promised her things between Justin and I would be fine, and I intended to keep that promise. Contestants came and went, with various levels of talent, but the judges determined a hit or a dud.
Camera people darted around taping down cords and adjusting lighting, and all the while, Justin continued to talk—about the amazing organic coffee he drank every morning, how his stylist highlighted his blond hair just enough to brighten his face on camera, and about his basement gym. I nodded at the right times and continued to look around for Alan Alders, who was nowhere in sight. Not that I wanted to talk to Alan, I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to suddenly creep up on me.
Justin stuck by my side like we were buddies. Which I guess now we were. I wasn’t quite as confident in how I was going to play this whole thing as I’d been five minutes ago. I hadn’t expected him to latch onto me like this.
“Where’s Victoria?” I asked.
“Dressing room. They’re putting us all in white.” Justin gestured down at his white jumpsuit, white sneaker ensemble. It didn’t look all that different from how he usually looked on TV so I hadn’t noticed.
I snuck another glance at Willa in her fitted white dress, hitting mid-thigh. She caught me watching and gave the end of her dress a little tug, though it did no good. Only so much of her was going to be covered.
Eye candy, that’s what she was here. Poor Victoria Laurens hadn’t filled that role in at least a decade. She was here as the icon. The irony was, they’d swap places in a heartbeat.
“What’s it like working with Willa?” Justin asked, his eyes darting around like he was afraid she’d know we were talking about her.
“She’s tough, and she doesn’t mess around.”
“Yeah, I got that vibe. So, has she mentioned me?”
“A little.” Perhaps Justin had only latched onto me as a means to get closer to Willa. It was a motive I could understand, but it didn’t make me any more eager to help him out. Would he go back to hating me once Willa and I became an item?
“We can talk more later, dude. Wardrobe’s found you.” Justin pointed to a thin, older woman with a clipboard making her way toward me. “I don’t want them noticing I cut the shoulder flaps off their jumpsuit.” He pulled the pieces out of his pockets to show me and then quickly retreated around a pillar.
“Doug Keller?” The woman adjusted her trendy little eyeglasses as she looked down at her clipboard.
“That’s me.”
“Well, good. I’m Angela, the production director. You’re the last one we need to get to wardrobe, so let’s be quick about it. We finally finished taping Victoria into her dress.” At that last part she turned and narrowed her eyes at me. “You did not hear me say that.”
I made a locking motion over my mouth. “Say what?”
Her face softened a little as she realized I wasn’t going to rat her out, and then she hurried off with me on her heels.
They had a rack of white clothing sectioned off, and she grabbed all the articles on the end and clipped them to a pole inside a small dressing area marked with my name.
About ten feet away, Victoria Laurens ruffled her huge white ball gown with a plunging neckline in front of a mirror, too taken with her own reflection to notice me watching. Her iconic mop of curly hair had been died a dark cherry color with eye makeup to match.
In a matter of minutes, they’d have the three of us together, arms around shoulders, Victoria probably pinching someone’s cheek like we were a cute little TV family. This was so different from playing a character on Strength Warriors, and for a few seconds a panic attack hit. I was insane to think I’d fit into all this. Yes, I was still playing a bad guy, but that was where the similarities ended.
I removed my shoes and took off my belt before I even took a second glance at the clothes they were providing for me.
The shirt was starched so stiffly it looked like it might get up and walk off on its own. And the pointed collars… I thought maybe it would all look better on, that it was the fashion-challenged side of me that couldn’t see the potential, but when I put on everything they’d given me it looked even worse. The wide white belt, the straight tight pants…
There was a knock on the metal pole outside my dressing area. “Hey, Angela said to give you your shoes and the eyewear they picked out for you. I’ll tie your bow tie.”
I parted the curtain. “I don’t wear glasses. Twenty-twenty vision. And I don’t want a bow tie. This shirt looks bad enough as it is.”
