10. 8.
8.
Callie
“It makes no sense, anyway. It’s not like Mackenzie knows what really happened.”
I rub my temple, nodding my head. Before I have a chance to say anything, Summer continues. “There’s nothing to it. People wouldn’t bring us here just to be judged that way. It’s about what Sebastian wants, and he gave no–”
“Can you just calmly tell me what happened?” I ask, pointing to the camera.
I’m with Summer for a solo interview for the last twenty minutes, but she’s talking a mile a minute and we can’t use any of it if she doesn’t start making sense ASAP.
I breathe deep in, signaling she should follow my lead. With her mouth clamped shut like it’s an effort, she does. I smile and then roll my finger forward, telling her she can start.
Hopefully, this time, she will start from the beginning.
“Well, last night after we came back from the pool hang, Mackenzie was doing her makeup and talking loudly with Emily about some of her theories. She was saying the girls who weren’t invited to the first group date were included in the pool hang so Sebastian could decide who he was eliminating next.”
I wish she would stop calling it “the pool hang”. But Mackenzie isn’t completely wrong. She missed the part that every date can seal the deal. It wasn’t exclusively the pool hang. Damn, now she got me calling that, too.
After the mini-golf date, Sebastian still wanted to get to know the other girls. It’s hard for him apparently, as he can’t stop complaining. But not every date in The Final Rose will be super cute. There are thirsty women out there and we have to make a show for them, too.
So, we took Sebastian’s shirt off and sent him to the pool with a few girls, including Summer. Once everyone returned to their rooms, instead of asking how it went, Mackenzie staged a conversation with Emily where she shared theories about the elimination process.
That’s how I ended up here this late at night. I have to get the interviews before everyone has a chance to sleep on it and realize Mackenzie is simply talking out of her ass.
“If I was going to believe her, I’d have to accept that he has a favorite since day one! This is not how it works!”
Since Summer’s speculations of how the show works don’t exactly make good TV, I steer her away from it. “Why do you think Mackenzie said what she said?”
“Jealousy.” Summer replies promptly. When I point in the camera’s direction, she licks her lips and tries again. “I think Mackenzie is jealous.”
“Mackenzie is trying to get us scared,” Isla says in her solo interview, half an hour after I’m finished with Summer. “She wants to see everyone on their toes. The glory of being selected for the first group date didn’t last long enough.”
“The other girls think she’s jealous. Were you jealous when you weren’t invited to the first group date?” I ask.
Isla shrugs with her small shoulder. “We all want an opportunity to get to know Sebastian. But I really don’t think fighting is the solution.”
She clearly doesn’t understand how reality TV works. I nod anyway because, at this point, I’m beyond tired. At least I got the nice girls’ interview. Anya is dealing with Mackenzie and Emily right now, and while I wish I was a bug in that room, I’m happy to be spared.
“You look tired,” Vera tells me while she’s being mic-ed.
I huff a laugh. “Thanks. You look gorgeous.”
“I mean, the dark shadows under your eyes completely work for you. You go, girl.” She plays and I laugh for the first time since this mess started.
Not that I don’t love a good drama, but Mackenzie could’ve waited until the morning to spread lies. I've been in the mansion since dawn, the twenty-four-hour mark is approaching. I’m tired and in need of a shower, but I also get that sometimes, things like this happen. Sometimes, we can’t leave interviews for the next day.
Once Vera is ready to go, I start. “Tell me what was happening in the room when the girls were in the pool hang.”
Vera wrinkles her nose. “Are we calling it that?”
I blow a raspberry and raise one hand. I gave up fighting it.
Shaking her head, Vera starts. “From the moment the group date was announced, Mackenzie thought she was going to be included. She was showing her two-piece to Emily and said she couldn’t wait to hang with Sebastian by the pool. When they sent the names, I thought it was obvious. We had our date already and now it was the opportunity for the other girls to connect with Sebastian, but Mackenzie was really annoyed by that. She made--”
She stops herself mid-sentence. I frown. I like interviews with Vera because she’s always the voice of reason. She tells us how it is, making my job much easier, especially when I need to perform through the night.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“She made a few comments about Grace’s body and why she shouldn’t be in a bikini.”
I close my mouth in a line. I’m not going to say that The Final Rose is inclusive, because it’s not. The show has a long way to go until it shows regular bodies on TV, but it has improved immensely since the first season. Grace is cute as a button, short, blond, and perky. She’s our southern belle, who likes horseback riding and has the nicest accent. She has the body to do the activities she’s interested in.
Good for her. I hate Mackenzie.
I hate that every season we need to have a villain and she's fitting too well into the role. I hate that she talks like that about the other women, even if it's good television. I'm done with people like that.
Vera frowns, releasing a long breath. “I don’t want to talk about that. I don’t want to expose Grace like that. She heard what Mackenzie said. She can say something if she wants.”
I nod, getting what she’s asking. Vera is always happy about retelling everything that happens with scientific precision, but we need to be careful with comments about someone’s body. Vera doesn’t want to victimize Grace, and I get it. Against my The Final Rose training, I nod, promising I won’t push the subject.
Once we are done, she hugs and thanks me, but I'm not too sure what I am being thanked for.
And then I interview Grace, who simply skims through Mackenzie’s comments, showing she’s not interested in giving the woman extra screen time. Mostly Grace is upset that Mackenzie and Emily are trying to spoil everyone’s fun. Grace is easy-going like that.
I leave the interview room when the sun is peeking in the horizon. I can’t believe I finished all the interviews, I think as I close my eyes and sag my body to the wall. I managed to be supportive, connect with the girls, and stay away from Sebastian.
I groan as thoughts about him enter my mind.
After Anya talked to me, I promised to show her my commitment. I came back the next morning with laser focus. A machine called Callie Sosa.
Mackenzie’s big mouth was great for my plans. It kept me occupied, my focus on the girls and the girls only.
Head in the game, Callie!
I watch the morning crew arrive, and the night cameramen go. I stay in a little trance, deciding if I should push for another couple of hours on the set until I crash, or just throw the towel now.
My thoughts are interrupted when the front door swings open and no one but Sebastian waltzes in with a big cup of coffee in hand.
It’s like lightning moving through my body. I jump outside my skin. My hand finds a door handle and I yank it open without looking where I am going.
When I close the door, darkness takes over and I realize I just locked myself in a closet.
I breathe through my nose, my hand over my chest, trying to control my heart rate.
I can’t do this. God, and if I can’t do this?
This is my job. Sebastian is my job. I don’t have time to hide from him.
On the other hand, staying with the girls is my job, too. Eventually, living together and competing gets under everybody’s skin. I’ll be busy as fights and disagreements sparkle through the mansion. For the next few weeks, I’ll be a young mother to my overly grown and very misbehaving children.
Biting my lip, I stay put while I hear Sebastian go about his day, saying good morning to the crew and preparing for today’s schedule.
Anya knows something weird is going on and if I’m being honest with myself, I know it, too. Something strong pulls me to Sebastian. It takes one second, and he’s able to disarm me.
I’m stupid to believe his intentions and now that Anya is watching me?
I can’t let this take over my life.
Avoiding Sebastian isn’t going to be a big deal. I’ll concentrate my efforts on the girls. Other people can keep an eye on him.
The closet door swings open, and of course, Sebastian is there. I gulp, and he watches me with humor I don’t appreciate. His mouth curves gently as he holds the door open.
“Someone saw you getting in here, but they thought, why would Callie stay that long in a closet?”
I swallow a lump. “I’m checking something.”
“Care to share what?”
“No.”
“No? So, it’s a secret?”
“It’s not a secret. You’re just not invited to know.”
“Damn, you’re cranky in the morning.”
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m always cranky.”
“Do you want me to bring you coffee?”
“No, just close the door.”
He stops for a second. “This door?”
“Can you close the door, please?” I ask again, my eyebrows raised.
“And leave you in a closet in the dark?” I bite inside my cheeks, refusing to be in this joke. He looks at me like I’m nothing but fun, his eyes shining.
“Yes, I’d love if you--”
“No problem,” he says and swings the door closed.
As soon as it clicks close, I groan. This is stupid. If I’m this bad at avoiding him, I won’t last a minute. Now I’m in the dark, in a goddamn closet, for no good reason. If I’m going to put real distance between Sebastian and me, it needs to be because I know deep in my bones that we must establish some boundaries.
I take a second preparing to see the world. I don’t owe anyone an explanation. I can just go back in there and–
The door swings open again. I’m ready to cuss Sebastian, but it isn’t him who is looking back at me. It’s Anya.
She frowns, with a denim jacket in her hands. We look at each other for a second longer than what is comfortable and then she hands me the jacket, assuming I’ll hang for her.
“I don’t like how weird you’re getting.”
And then she closes the door in my face.
Awesome, Callie. Awesome.
I drive to my parents’ home because it’s Saturday, and the weekend is a great excuse to eat mom’s food, and I don't want to be alone right now. I’m full of nervous energy from being awake for too long.
I had an energy drink while I waited for the morning traffic to clear up and then I got into the car. I shouldn't have. I was hiding in a closet not too long ago, that's a clear sign of insanity. My mom can sniff that shit a mile away.
My cheeks burn in shame when I think about how ridiculous it went with Sebastian today. If I want to keep my job, I need to find a way to relax and take a step back.
I hate the feeling of being watched and that's how I feel since Anya called me out. Like she saw something I wasn't ready to admit to myself.
I'm different this season because he's here. I'm not ready to face that.
Thankfully, I arrive at my parents’ home. As soon as I park and open the door, I hear the music coming from my old neighborhood.
This place is the complete opposite of The Final Rose mansion. It feels hotter here, sunnier, and homier. During the weekends, everyone is working on their lawns, people coming and going from their weekend jobs and a couple of barely legal ones are obsessively cleaning their cars with loud music on.
“Ah, Callie! Looking good.”
I turn to the right as Raul wiggles his eyebrow and bites his lips, crossing his arms over his chest in front of the most ridiculous altered car I’ve ever seen.
“I was your babysitter, Raul!” I roar as I open the house’s small gate.
“And I remember every minute!” He doesn’t give up, even when I laugh and I open Mom’s front door.
Inside, things aren’t that different. Mom is playing music in the kitchen as she makes tamales like she does every weekend.
Coming here was a good idea after all.
Mom is singing and dancing away and I put my arm around her midsection holding her close. Her hands grip me, “Oh, hello, Calliope.”
“How do you always know it’s me?” I release her, not before giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“Because my Callie smells like flowers.” She smiles, turning around to see me. “And because the other options are three men, and I can tell the difference.”
I chuckle, and she takes my chin between her fingers. I’m not quick enough to escape, and she’s turning my head toward the light, watching me with narrowed eyes.
“You look tired.”
“I’d like people to stop saying that.” I step away from her hands.
“Who else is saying you look tired?”
“No one, mom.” I moan. “Can I help with the cooking?”
She grunts, turning to the counter again. “You need a nap, no? How late did you work yesterday?”
Mom hates that none of us have nine-to-five jobs. She’s proud of hard work, whatever it is, but she worries. She thinks Saturdays are for the family and Sundays are for church. Even though Dad had always worked weekends, she still lectured us four, anyway.
“I work hard. Aren’t you proud?” I deflect by bumping my hip on hers, swaying with the music.
“I’m proud of all my children.” She nods. “I’d be prouder if they knew when to quit.”
“Sosas aren't quitters, mami.” I joke.
She arches her eyebrows and scoffs. “Come on then, you can't tell me you're too tired to help now or I get to lecture you about working too hard.”
“Of course, I can help..” I lie through my teeth.
I don’t last long. When I open my mouth with the third yawn, she sends me to the sofa for a nap. I don’t get a lecture, but a kiss on my temple as she says, “You can’t make good decisions if you’re tired.”
And she must be right because when I close my eyes, I only see Sebastian and how little I want to step away from him.