Chapter Two Hell Is a Hospital Waiting Room
Chapter Two
Hell Is a Hospital Waiting Room
Several hours and a lifetime later, I’m in the waiting room at the hospital, sitting scrunched up in one of the chairs, trying to answer emails on my phone. But my brain is having a heyday, ricocheting from worst-case scenario to worst-case scenario. If I’d stopped to talk to another teacher after class or taken too long at the grocery store, I wouldn’t have made it in time. This was a close call. Too close.
And how are we going to foot the bill for the ambulance and this hospital visit? What if my mom had suffered a concussion or something worse than a mild case of smoke inhalation? Would I need to take time off work? Could I even get a sub in?
When I nearly send an email to a student’s parent instead of my co-teacher, I slide the phone back into my pocket. I can’t afford to make more mistakes, not now.
I slump back in my chair, my gaze snagging on a stack of fashion and sports magazines on the side table. I pick up Glam Gossip from the top of the pile and start thumbing past the paparazzi shots of celebrities in sweats, balancing bags of Dunkin’ Donuts, and glossy images of other celebrities strutting on the red carpet. There’s a short interview of a TV-star-turned-influencer debuting a new skincare line, followed by a two-page spread of a glamorous-looking blond actress. The bold headline shouts: “Dawn Taylor ‘Makes It Work’ After Devastating Setback!” I skim the article to see if any of Dawn’s strategies would work for me. Turns out, I can easily make a comeback with the right spiritual guide, truckloads of acai-infused water, and a million-dollar PR team.
“There’s the hero of the hour!” It’s Chase, striding down the hallway with my fleece and a latte in hand. He looks sheepish. “Sorry I’m late. I left my phone in the bathroom, and I didn’t see your calls until after work. But I brought fuel!”
“I’m really glad you’re here,” I say. I stand, dropping the magazine next to me, and sink into his arms. He wraps the fleece around my shoulders, and for the first time all day, I feel almost warm.
“Don’t lie. I know you’re just happy to see the coffee,” he teases, handing me the cup. I smile at him, even though the idea of spending six dollars on a cup of coffee hurts my head. I resist the urge to remind him that there’s free coffee in the hospital. The gesture is very sweet, but I’ve seen Chase’s credit card bills, and I know how much is left before they max out. He may not have student loans to pay, or family to support, or really any responsibilities whatsoever, but he does need to start being more fiscally smart. For someone in finance, he’s shockingly bad with money. My best friend swears he was a personality hire.
But today was a terrible, no good, very bad day, and my life planner app is always sending me notifications about gratitude. I focus on the warmth of the latte as I take a sip.
“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it.
“Of course,” he says, grinning. Then he sobers. “How’s your mom doing?”
“I haven’t gotten the full report, but I think she’s going to be okay. So far it seems like it’s only smoke inhalation. We got lucky,” I explain, using the doctor’s exact platitude to get the words out. “They want to monitor her for twenty-four hours, and since they’re putting her in an overnight room, they said I should hang out here.”
“That’s great, babe,” he says, running his hands up and down my arms. “What about you? Are you okay?”
I’m not, and I haven’t been since I opened my mom’s door, but I nod anyway. “Don’t worry, an EMT already checked me out.”
“I bet he did. Have you seen you?” Chase says, winking at me. He fans himself.
I can’t help but laugh because Chase is the looker of the two of us. I often catch baristas trying to get his number at our coffee shops, or heads turning on the sidewalk just to catch a second glimpse of Chase with his sandy-blond hair, vivid green eyes, and “I’m made of boyfriend material” demeanor. Mrs. Tabitha, the social studies teacher in the classroom next to mine, once called him my “trophy boyfriend.”
“Seriously?” I say with a smile. “I look like garbage right now.” I’ve been stress-sweating, and I smell like a Korean BBQ gone wrong. I feel like I’ve aged ten years in the last few hours.
“Well, you’re the sexiest garbage I’ve ever seen.”
“Gross,” I say, grimacing. Chase leans in to kiss me, but I don’t feel like kissing him in front of everyone in the waiting room, so I pull back and deflect. “Hey, tell me something good. What was your big news?”
“Oh, yeah!” His face lights up. “I know you’ve been worried about your student loans and your mom’s bills and stuff, but I’ve got it all figured out.”
“Uh-huh?”
“We’re going to become millionaires!” he crows. His arms drop from my shoulders to gesture widely. He’s probably imagining he’s holding one of those huge novelty checks.
“And how do we do that?” I’m praying he hasn’t used his credit card to buy a million lottery tickets.
“We’re gonna go on…reality TV!”
Right. I almost wish he’d bought lottery tickets. I take another sip of my latte, but it’s lukewarm and all the foam’s gone.
“Look, I know it sounds crazy,” he says. “But hear me out. FlixCast is putting out this new show where they ‘put couples to the test.’ It’s like The Amazing Race , but for relationships. And it’s on a tropical island.”
“So it’s nothing like The Amazing Race. ”
“You got me there.” He laughs. “I know I’m not doing a very good job explaining, but it’s a fantastic opportunity. Just check this out.” He searches “dawn taylor dating show what is it” on his phone and opens the first result.
Dawn Taylor to Play Host and Executive Producer on New Reality TV Show Dawn Tay’s Inferno: Love Is Hell
Get a first look at the hot new reality TV show that puts true love under fire.
BY MAXINE DEAN, GLAMGOSSIP.COM
Hollywood, CA. After walking out of her last project and retreating from the public eye for the last three years to “ focus intensely on herself ,” Dawn Taylor, 48, the sassy and dynamic celebrity best known for her lead role in the sitcom Cocktails & Confessions and her salacious, modern-day “Dear Abby” style talk show Drama Trauma , is ready to take on the world of reality TV as the host of her latest project, Dawn Tay’s Inferno: Love Is Hell.
Love Is Hell is a competition-based reality show where loving couples compete in a series of challenges designed to test their commitment to each other. Inspired by the epic poem Inferno by Dante, which describes a journey through the nine circles of hell, each episode is themed around common human failings such as anger, gluttony, and greed, forcing couples to navigate obstacles that range from smolderingly sexy to deeply emotional, all aimed at uncovering how well each person truly understands their partner.
Dawn Tay’s Inferno: Love Is Hell is set to premiere in the spring as a ten-day special event, with new episodes airing daily and only hours after filming concludes, thanks to new proprietary editing technology touted by Get Real Productions executive producer Peter Dixon.
This marks Taylor’s first foray back into the spotlight after controversy surrounded her departure from what would have been her film debut in Beauty and the Beaker , a rom-com about a supermodel who falls for a scientist in postapocalyptic LA. Taylor took heat on the set for demanding a private security team of “hotties only,” ultimately walking off the set and quitting the project. Cast members and the director cited her as a precipitating factor when production subsequently shut down and executives shelved the entire film.
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486 COMMENTS
GLAMFAM12: wasn’t dawn cancelled lol
SECRETSXSECRETS: She was being STALKED. She could have been murdered dead!! She quit to save her life
GLAMFAM12: IIRC her fans sent her bougie cookies not a bomb
RIDEORGOSSIP77: creepy that they knew how to get to her imo
RYANW: ok but I too would like a hotties only team of bodyguards
SECRETSXSECRETS: THAT IS FAKE NEWS SHE NEVER ASKED FOR THE HOTTIES
LOAD MORE COMMENTS
Chase bounces on his heels as I skim through the controversial comments section. “The winning couple gets a cash prize of a million dollars,” he says excitedly.
I love his enthusiasm, even if he’s being completely delusional right now. I humor him. “I do like the sound of a million bucks. So how would we win exactly?”
“With our powers combined,” Chase says, wrapping an arm around me and squeezing. “I’ll handle the physical stuff, and you’ll handle the mental stuff. We’ve got brains and brawns! We’re a dream team. The dynamic duo. The three musketeers minus one!”
“You know our odds of getting on a reality show are very slim, right?” I say gently.
“Normally, they would be,” Chase says, “but my old lacrosse bro works for the studio. He hit me up this morning. He said they’re looking for more diversity in the cast, and he thought we’d be a good fit since, you know.”
“Since I’m Asian,” I say.
“Oh, yeah, maybe that’s what he meant,” Chase says. “I thought it was because you’re a math teacher. They probably don’t get a lot of those on reality TV.”
Maybe it’s the roller coaster of a day I’ve had, or the adrenaline from literally saving my mom’s life, but I feel distinctly untethered from reality. Could this really happen? Could Chase and I actually go on a reality show and win?
There’s no way. But then again, I’m an expert at winning. Not at life, clearly—just look at my bank account. But reality TV isn’t real life. Plus, I’ve got a competitive streak a mile wide, and I’m killer at strategy. Put me in any kind of competition, and I’ll crush it. Board game night, team-bonding laser tag, academic quiz bowls, you name it.
I can’t believe I’m considering this. I’ve never thought about going on a TV show. What if I completely embarrass myself? What if I say something weird, or have a nip slip? What if they have to pixelate my boob on the top streaming platform in America, and my mom sees it? Competing on a reality TV show is so far outside my comfort zone.
But my comfort zone doesn’t have a million dollars.
“Let’s discuss it,” I say finally.
“Way ahead of you. Already applied,” says Chase. “Bryan said that the applications were coming in fast and furious, but he’d make sure we were at the top of the talent pool. All you have to do is sign the waiver. We’ll have to submit an audition tape too, but that’s just a formality.”
Chase texts me a link and when I open it, I’m met with a solid wall of text that goes on for over a hundred pages.
“What is all of this?”
“No idea. Pro tip: You don’t have to read it. You just have to sign it,” Chase says.
I scan the first few pages. It seems fairly standard: I grant permission to use my image and my voice in perpetuity, for promotional purposes, and so forth. But there are a few lines that jump out to me. “?‘I release Get Real Productions from any and all liability for any injury, dismemberment, death, or trauma, emotional or physical, that may occur,” I read out loud. “I don’t like the sound of dismemberment. Or death.”
“Don’t worry,” Chase says. “That’s all regular waiver stuff. It’s reality TV. Nothing bad’s actually gonna happen.”
I think of the news article I’d scrolled past about a contestant on Nepo House getting airlifted out of Joshua Tree because he was vomiting so hard he ruptured his esophagus.
“Chase,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I can’t sign this. You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to apply for this show.”
“But I’m asking now,” Chase says.
“That’s not—” I begin, and a door swings open.
A nurse looks around, clipboard in hand. “Ms. Chen?” he calls. “Your mom’s settled in her room now. You can come back and see her.”
The nurse brings us to my mom’s room, and there she is in the bed, connected to an oxygen tank and vitals monitors. But she’s awake and alert, and that’s enough for me. I don’t know if I want to rush to her side or cry at the door. Luckily, Chase knows what to do. He puts a hand on the small of my back and walks us both forward.
“Mrs. Chen, so good to see you,” Chase says. “Maybe a little too young to take up smoking, yeah?”
My mom smiles indulgently at him, patting his hand. “You’re so funny, Chase.”
“Tell that to Alice,” he says, and they laugh like I didn’t pull my mom out of a burning apartment earlier this evening.
“He’s funny, Alice,” my mom says. “When’s the wedding?”
“ Mom ,” I choke. “We haven’t talked about it.”
“Alice is still recovering from my proposal,” Chase puts in.
There were a lot of dark nights when my mom first found out she had cancer, when we weren’t sure how things were going to go. We fought a lot, both of us stressed and afraid. During one of our fights, I found out that my mom was terrified that I wasn’t married yet.
“What if something happens to me, and I leave you here all alone?” my mom had asked, tears in her eyes.
“I have Chase,” I told her.
“He hasn’t even proposed, and it’s been three years,” my mom said, sniffling.
“We’re not ready,” I said. “And it’s not like he’s the only person in my life. I have friends, you know.” I didn’t point out the obvious, which is that my mom is divorced, but that doesn’t mean she’s tragically all alone in the world. I mean, she has me. But that was too low of a blow.
I’d broken down later and told Chase all about our fight, and the next week he proposed. And I said yes, because it made sense.
The ring had been gorgeous, a large diamond set among a dazzling array of other tiny diamonds. I made him return it and get me a much more modest ring for a fraction of the price. We only got store credit on the return, so now whenever we have to buy something, I just hope that Macy’s carries it.
My mother was never a big fan of Chase. He wasn’t a doctor or a lawyer or an engineer—hell, he barely graduated from college—and worst of all, he wasn’t Chinese. My mother said I was a different person around him. But I thought that was probably a good thing. Chase made me cooler, more relaxed, more confident. My mom would say complacent.
But I guess she changed her tune after she found out about the cancer, because she cried actual tears of joy when she found out we were engaged.
“Don’t tell me Alice still wants to do the ceremony at the courthouse,” my mom says, still holding Chase’s hand.
“I know you want a big wedding, Mrs. Chen. Don’t worry, I’ve got your back on this,” Chase says with a wink.
“We’ll talk about it later,” I say firmly. “Mom, why were you trying to cook tonight? You know you’re supposed to be resting. The doctor said you shouldn’t push yourself too hard.”
I can tell by the scrunch of her nose that my mom doesn’t appreciate my tone. She hates being told what to do.
She waves her hand as if sweeping my words away. “You had a long day. I wanted to cook for you.”
But I don’t need home-cooked meals. I need my mother. I need her alive. I can’t bring myself to say that, though. It’d be like turning down a hug from her. Food has always been her love language, for better and for worse.
I kneel so that I’m eye to eye with her, and switch to Chinese. “Mama, you have to take care of yourself. That’s your job now. I can take care of everything else,” I promise, even though I can barely take care of myself some days.
Speaking of which, we never had dinner, and my mom can’t afford to be skipping meals. “I’m going to get dinner for you, okay?”
Because she’s stubborn as hell, I can tell my mom’s about to object and say she doesn’t need anything. But instead, she starts coughing. I offer her a sip of water, but she flaps her hand at us, motioning for us to go.
“I’m going to rest now,” my mom announces, like she’s making a royal proclamation. At the door, I look back, and she’s already falling asleep. She looks so small in her bed, her wispy gray hair falling over her face. Her wrinkled hands are curled into her blanket, and her mouth is pinched, like she’s about to fight someone over the price of eggs. Despite her nagging and her smiles earlier, she looks more fragile than ever. My chest squeezes at the sight, and I close the door before the feeling overwhelms me.
There are egregiously high prices posted outside the hospital cafeteria, so instead of going in, I steer Chase past it, toward the vending machines.
“Vending machine dinner?” he asks.
“Vending machine dinner,” I confirm.
“Just like in the dorms. Good times,” Chase says. He genuinely means it, and I love him for that. “What are you feeling? Oreos or ramen?”
I scan the machine for something nourishing for my mom. In addition to borrowing all those cookbooks, I joined a Reddit group when my mother first got diagnosed. There’s a whole subsection devoted to the ideal diet for battling cancer—fresh vegetables, expensive mushrooms, the works. Some people swear by a brand of olive oil from Italy that costs over three hundred dollars a bottle. But right now, I’m balking at a five-dollar granola bar. Frustrated, I knock my fist softly against the glass.
To hell with it. I’m getting her something from the hospital cafeteria. Something filling and nutritious, no matter the cost. And in that moment, I decide.
“Chase?” I say as I bring up the waiver on my phone.
“Yeah, babe? You want some of these Oreos? They’ve got Star Wars flavor.”
“I’m in,” I say, showing him the waiver. I skip to the end and sign it, right then and there. “But if we do this, we’d better win.”
[FILE #B045 AUDITION TRANSCRIPT: CHASE DE LANCEY AND ALICE CHEN]
INTERVIEWER: Tell us a bit about yourselves. How did you meet?
CHASE DE LANCEY: Alice and I met in college during our senior year. She was a math major—
ALICE CHEN: With a minor in public health, thank you very much—
CHASE DE LANCEY: And I was majoring in communications. I kept seeing her at the Campus Grind, the café near the university library, and she was always so busy studying.
ALICE CHEN: Look, not all of us are brilliant auditory learners.
CHASE DE LANCEY: She would take up a whole table and cover it in textbooks. You ever see the movie A Beautiful Mind ? It was like that. I thought she was cute, so I asked if I could get her a coffee, which didn’t go so well.
ALICE CHEN: I thought he was just a very hardworking barista. I had no idea he was asking me out!
CHASE DE LANCEY: So anyway, I took her order, hopped behind the bar and—
ALICE: And made me the absolute worst cup of coffee that I’ve ever had. And then the manager came over and kicked him out.
CHASE DE LANCEY: But not before I left my number on her receipt.
ALICE CHEN: The whole thing was so funny that I ended up texting him just to find out what his deal was.
INTERVIEWER: Can you tell us more about your relationship? Chase, what do you love about Alice?
CHASE DE LANCEY: Alice is cool. She’s fun to hang out with, and she has an answer for everything. And she’s got, like, survival skills. Did you know if you don’t empty the little lint trap in the dryer, it catches on fire?
INTERVIEWER: And Alice, what do you love about Chase?
ALICE CHEN: Chase…well, he’s just impossible not to like. He collects friends like those katamari balls. Every time we go somewhere, he makes a new friend. And I’m a natural worrier, so it’s nice to be around someone who’s so confident and positive. Even when things are going wrong, he’s there with a joke to lighten the mood.
CHASE DE LANCEY: And I’m great in bed.
ALICE CHEN: Chase!
[Alice buries her face in her hands.]
INTERVIEWER: What makes you think you can beat the competition?
CHASE DE LANCEY: We’re amazing together. Alice just gets me.
ALICE CHEN: Our relationship is solid. A perfect equation.
INTERVIEWER: And what makes the two of you think you’re a good fit for this show?
CHASE DE LANCEY: Oh, that’s easy. We’re winners.