Is it just me or is the curvy girl the most interesting one this season? I’m calling it! I’ve found wifey! #BeforeMidnight
@messyfeminist359
This Cindy girl is FIERCE! Where can I get those shoes? And that dress? #BeforeMidnight
@RealMelanieGoodwin
Who do I get in touch with about these feather dream shoes? I NEED THEM. #BeforeMidnight
@THEalexismartin
Honestly, I was about to tune out of this season of #BeforeMidnight and then Cindy showed up.
I keep scrolling. There is an endless supply of screenshots. “Some of these people are f-famous,” I manage to stutter. “Like blue-checkmark famous. Melanie Goodwin is tweeting about me?” Every single one of the famous model’s tweets becomes an instant viral sensation. Seeing my name next to hers is surreal.
“Uh, yeah,” says Beck. “Everyone is hyped on you! There are GIFs, hashtags, andPeopleeven published a piece with their picks for the top five and you’re in it, baby!”
My jaw drops and my eyes widen as I slide down the wall, no mind for my dress. “People? As in the magazine?”
Beck sits down next to me. “Yes! They even called you an up-and-coming designer with an eye for exquisite footwear!”
My heart pounds frantically. An up-and-coming designer? I’m flattered, and yet I feel like a fraud. “What! How did they—”
She nudges me with her elbow. “I might have fed them a quote or two.”
I lean my head on her shoulder. “Thank you.” After a moment I add, “I feel bad about Drew.”
She pats my head. “Drew is going to be just fine. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning with an extra hundred thousand Instagram followers and some brand deals in waiting.”
“Really?” I ask.
“The magic of television.”
Her walkie-talkie beeps. “Beck? Does anyone have eyes on Beck?” Wes asks.
I sit up, and she talks into her walkie-talkie. “Beck here.”
“Oh good,” he says. “I was about to put an AMBER Alert out on you.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming.”
Beck stands and then holds out a hand to help me to my feet, which is no easy thing to do in a minidress and platforms.
“Do you think he even likes me?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Enough to keep you. That’s what matters.”
But is that enough? Is that all I want? For him to like me just enough so that I get my full fifteen minutes in the spotlight?
We walk out of the trailer, and Beck points me to a side entrance where I can easily sneak in.
“Good night, up-and-coming designer!” she quietly calls to me.
When I make it back to my room, I’m exhausted, and I guess so was everyone else, because my three roommates are sound asleep. The room is definitely more lived-in than it was when we first got here. Shoes and makeup on every surface and bras hanging from doorknobs and headboards.
After I get out of my dress and put on some shorts and my holey sleep shirt, my hand hovers over the radio hidden in my suitcase. For a moment there tonight, it really felt like Henry and I got lost in each other. The cameras and other women sort of just faded away…but in that moment, he didn’t even know if he was going to send me home or keep me here.
I grab the radio and sneak out to the balcony after slipping on my hoodie. I have questions. Questions I would like Henry to answer.
