The last of the L.A. contestants were auditioning today, and then Alan was jetting the whole crew off to Austin, Texas. The next few weeks would be nothing but hotel rooms and convention centers, though I’d talked Alan into letting me take my dog. After all, if Victoria could take her yappy Pomeranian on the road, I should be allowed a sleepy arm accessory too.
The dog was kind of good company. I stroked her back while we watched TV at night and attempted to make her play fetch so she could get a little exercise.
The truth was, I missed Doug. I’d let him in, and then punished him for it. I wasn’t used to people who didn’t have an agenda, who genuinely cared. That wasn’t something to lightly throw away like I did.
But he was stuck in the audition room all day, and I was stuck out here with the hopefuls. I couldn’t fix things between us right now even if I wanted to.
Vince and Juan, my camera guys, got into position as we headed back into the ballroom where the final trickle of contestants were waiting.
I wasn’t sure if it was the lure of me or the cameras, but everyone converged on me at once. I put on my smile and shook hands one by one, asking who was nervous, and who couldn’t wait to have this over with.
An assistant brought me a water bottle, let me take a couple sips, and then buffed my nose before retreating out of the shot. It was hard to tell what time it was or how long we’d been here. I was pretty much regulating time by when they fed me and how many contestants were left.
When it was fifty-contestants-left o’clock, an assistant came to let me know I was being summoned to the audition room for a short break. I was thrilled. The contestants waiting to go in, not so much.
On entering, I quickly shut the door so no one outside would hear the shouting. Alan and our new director, Stanley, were leaning over the judges’ desk, interrogating a stone-faced Doug. Victoria watched with interest while she sipped her mineral water. Justin was fidgeting nearby, probably debating whether or not to intervene.
Alan stuck a finger in Doug’s face. “I hired you on to bring controversy, to bring tension. You add tension to these auditions about as well as a lobotomy. Looking bored is one slice of a bad guy role and we have enough footage of that to last all season. You do as I say or I’ll replace you and use your outing as a publicity stunt.”
“Now wait a minute—” The director tried to cut in but Alan cut him off.
“So you think what he’s giving is working?”
Stanley rubbed his balding head. “No, you’re right. For this to work, we need fun banter and zippy one-liners. I’m not seeing either of those things. Doug, in reality TV, everyone gets typecast. Sometimes it’s an embellishment of their natural personality, and sometimes it’s nothing like them. That’s standard procedure. Do you think Victoria is really pawing after every twenty-something Hollywood wanna-be who comes in here?”
Victoria gave a self-satisfied smile. Praise, even when used to lecture someone else, was still praise.
Alan was about to take a turn yelling, but Stanley put out a staying hand. “Wait, Alan. It’s time for you to let me do my job. Go sit down.”
Instead, Alan headed straight for me, looking murderous. I was the one who insisted on Doug, and therefore, to blame for all of this.
