“Brittney, I have a movie membership. That is my only life outside of this place.” The bun on her head wobbled with her duh expression.
“Let’s talk after this.” I nodded to get us back on track.
“Right. So we have this footage of finding out about each other, touring the apartmentandthe first day visiting…”
“Oh, so the most awkward moment of my life, the most shocking moment of my life, and the most humbling moment of my life.” I listed with a smile.
“No, no. I promise there is no protagonist or antagonist. I realized there’s a lot of discourse surrounding the two of you, and I would rather die than paint either of you in a negative light.” Nina’s face was serious. She meant business. Even if her business was my business.
She continued, “This is purely for fans to get to know the both of you. Make light of what kind of started as super heavy and contentious. Which is what the confessionals are going to do.”
I nodded slowly, seeing my version of those two days so clearly in my head. How the hell did we not look like we wanted to kill each other?
“And this footage is usable? Not like, you know, awkward and stilted?”
Nina almost barked out a laugh before she realized I was serious. “Oh, God no. You guys aregoodtogether. I even had Marcello up in the bleachers recording your one on one.”
“And at no point it looks like I want to trip Nola when she’s not looking?”
Nina shook her head. “Not really, no.”
“And it doesn’t look like Nola wants to duct tape my mouth shut?”
“Is it really that bad between you two?”
“No, not anymore. But in the beginning, I’d say those weren’t thoughts thatdidn’tcross our minds.”
Nina leaned back in her chair with a smirk, her fingers drumming on the desk. I didn’t know what she was thinking, and surprisingly, I didn’t think I wanted to.
“Nina, I trust you, maybe, not like one-hundred percent, but nearly for sure. Jaguars fans are ripping into me, and it’s surprisingly affecting me more than I thought.”
“I hear you.”
“So…please just be gentle with me.”
“Girl.” Nina reached her hand across the desk. “I got you.”
Nina was right. The content was so good; I knew exactly what I wanted to say in my confessionals to fill out the rest of the story. Talking to the camera came almost as natural as breathing butI knew Nola was going to be uncomfortable.
“When you get Nola for her segments, play up that little-to-no talking thing she does. It’ll contrast well to my chatterbox moments.” I offered my advice because I simply couldn’t help it. Even if I didn’t get the bug to be a performing artist, I critiqued media like it was my full time job. Some of my best opinions have come out of dinner talk with my family on what was new or flopping across the arts.
“I love that idea.” Nina beamed as she cleaned up her tripod and camera. She took the SD card out and plugged it into her computer. “Thank you for being a team player, Brittney. You don’t know how much time you saved me on begging.”
“This stuff is fun to me.” I shrugged.
“And it’s natural. You two need to keep it up.”
“Come again?”
“Your stories of you and Nola matching? You two watching tv together? That stuff helps us too.”
“Oh, I wasn’t doing it for public attention…” I didn’t finish my sentence, suddenly hyperaware of any personal moments at home I shared with Nola included. In the time since our strictlyfriends, no slip up arrangement, we somehow managed to do something together everyday .
I'd shared my life haphazardly, with no agenda behind the photos I snapped. We made dinner together, and it was too salty. We ordered lumpia and sisig the other day and Ihadto shout out the restaurant. Nola overloaded the dishwasher and suds started pouring out. These were all moments I’d shared for fun. I had no idea it could be construed as anything more than what it was.
“Well anyway, you two are great and Nola should be coming in later. Do you want to see the final cut before our socials post?”
I shook my head, trying to come out of my overthinking spiral. “No, I’m good! I trust you, Nina!”
