What’s Love Got To Do With It

Chapter 1

“WHAT’S LOVE (GOT TO DO WITH IT)”, SEASON TWO PROMOTIONAL MATERIALS

APPROVED BY STREAMFLIX, ET AL.

The views and opinions expressed in the following materials are those of the speakers / source program participants and do not necessarily represent those of Streamflix Media, its employees or subsidiaries, and / or the organizations / groups they may be affiliated with.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:

“WHAT’S LOVE (GOT TO DO WITH IT)”, Second Season: Final Round casting interviews, Bonus Features mix: “In Their Own Words.”

[transcript]

Camera footage shows Blake Lawrence sitting on a stool. He is shirtless in board shorts, facing the camera. He smiles and winks.

BLAKE

My name is Blake Lawrence. I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and thirsty women. Well, you know. Women, men, whatever snacks are on the table. Not picky with the equipment somebody’s packing, so long as they’re hot.

I’m a love ’em and leave ’em type of guy — smash and dash, and that’s how I like it.

Nothin’ too deep or serious. Here for a good time, not a long time, amirite?

What’s that? My number? You lookin’ for digits or a hook-up count?

[laughs] Uh, are my cast-mates gonna see this?

Footage jump-cuts to:

Paxton Montgomery sitting on a stool, facing the camera. Paxton speaks as he pull his legs into a yoga-style child’s pose and squints.

Paxton

So, really, it’s inspired as [CENSORED], when you think about it — the realization that we are each only one piece of the greater puzzle, fragments in our comprehension of the whole, somewhat hopeless to understand without the divine clarity of group mind.

And yet, the key to such enlightenment, well — it’s, it’s surprisingly physical.

[pause as a producer speaks off-camera] Orgies.

I’m referring to orgies. I like them very much. They make me very happy.

Blake

You know, I feel like, people see this [gestures to his body] and their priorities shift. Let’s just say, they’re not thinking long-term, marriage material.

Paxton

Generally speaking, you don’t make meaningful connections during orgies. [he pauses, head tilting to one side] Generally.

Blake:

Would I be open to it? Like, a relationship? Or just sleeping with someone twice? [off-camera clarification] Um, yeah, I guess. Why?

Paxton

I don’t understand that question.

Blake

Settling down is for other people. Not me. I’m happy with who I am. I’m hot, I’m young, my bed’s never empty. [laughs] I’m good. [Blake is told the cameras have cut, his smile vanishes immediately.]

Paxton

I don’t think anyone cares to get to know me well enough for something like that to happen organically. It’s an interesting concept, but unlikely. Sex is connection enough for me. [Paxton looks down at his hands. There is a long pause]. I’m very satisfied.

[end transcript]

_____________________

The luxury catamaran sporting the salt-soaked netting Blake is currently splayed out upon is a far cry from his modest one-bedroom overlooking an overflow parking lot.

Or anything he has back in Kansas, really.

The boat’s double hulls cut effortlessly through the turquoise waters of the Gulf of Mexico, sending warm spray dancing through the air as it races Blake and several of his new cast members away from the fancy hotel they’ve been held inside since the airport.

Sleek fiberglass curves in the deep to run parallel against tree-lined shores belonging to a swath of land that seemed to rise from the ocean itself.

Over the rim of his sunglasses, Blake’s eyes scan swiftly, searching for any signs of life — Cameras, maybe, or lighting equipment marking a future filming location and his temporary home-away-from-home.

Up until this morning, they’ve been kept separate and somewhat sequestered in their hotel rooms, banned from using the resort facilities unless accompanied by a producer, and so far, Blake hasn’t actually found a producer willing to stand guard while he swims a few laps.

Needless to say, between that and the electronic device ban, it’s been a boring couple of days.

Not exactly what Blake imagined he was signing up for when hastily scribbling his John Hancock over, rather than above, the dotted line of his very first reality show contract.

…Especially when the recruiting for said show revolved unapologetically around phrases such as, “enjoy the hedonistic holiday of your dreams while getting paid to let us film it.”

As far as Blake is concerned, it’d take a real narcissistic nightmare to read that and think, “Oh, this is for me!” And yet, here he is.

Blake supposes the way the next twenty-four hours go will have a lot to do with whether he speaks to his surrogate sister, Jess, ever again.

If the last forty-eight are any indication, magic eight ball says, “all signs point to no.”

Not that Jess forced him to steal Hayden’s camera in order to film a video audition and mail it off to Hollywood.

Nor did she drive him to the airport and put him on a plane, all in service of attending the highly coveted, invitation-only, in-person round in L.A.

which would narrow those video submissions down even further.

And she definitely wasn’t the one who begrudgingly gave Blake’s lawyer brother his unsigned contract (just to make totally sure he wasn’t accidentally selling his soul) before freely scribbling away and returning the stack to Streamflix Studios’ Human Resources team, his bank account information carefully stapled to the back.

No, all Jess did was mention the ad in passing.

She even framed it as a joke, dunking on Blake for his endless parade of hookups that never stayed past breakfast. “Might as well use your skanky lifestyle to make bank,” were her exact words, snarking as she tossed the newest issue of Backstage down in front of him, pages landing with a smack against the break room table.

Still, Blake would never have known about the opportunity if Jess wasn’t endlessly trolling that magazine and the internet for open calls, so it’s definitely her fault.

Chick thinks she’s the next Anna Kendrick or whatever (not that Blake would know who that is, of course.

He definitely has not watched Pitch Perfect and its sequels while crying fat tears into bowls of Crunch Cookie Crunch, thinking about how lonely he is).

Heck, Jess still believes she’s superstar material, despite going on hundreds of auditions and boasting a working resume nearly as short as Blake’s.

And Blake’s worked at Jess’ stepdad’s auto shop and nowhere else since he was sixteen, so.

It’s just — Blake’s never had money. Comes with the territory of raising his kid brother nearly on his own.

Their father was too drunk and too depressed to do the job himself, basically causing trouble and making things worse for everyone until he finally had the decency to kick the bucket and let Blake off the hook with caring for him, too.

Maybe once upon a time, Blake thought he could have something better, but kid dreams are just that. Dust in the wind, baby.

Reality is, the night his mom died, Blake’s dreams went with her — even if he didn’t know it yet.

That’s okay with him, though. He raised a good kid.

Blake is damn proud of Hayden and frankly, himself, if only for delivering a whole ass human alive and decent, responsible, even, to adulthood.

But kids ain’t cheap, and Blake’s used to busting his ass only to dump every penny made into Hayden’s well-being.

Whether it’s rent or essentials or tuition (or Hayden’s ever-growing feet), there’s always been something.

It’s only within the last year — after Hayden graduated law school and took a job with an up-and-coming firm specializing in human rights cases, go get ’em, Tiger — that Blake has eased off on insisting that the kid accept his help.

So now, he’s sort of floundering. Blake has his own debts — not the least of which he owes to Charlie, Jess’ stepdad and both his longtime boss and the closest thing to a real father Blake’s ever known.

After his dad crashed the muscle car from the sixties Blake basically grew up in, resulting in the accident that took his life, Blake desperately wanted to rebuild it from scratch.

Coping, and all that. But again, money wasn’t a thing he had going for him, and classic cars are expensive.

Being a forever friend of his father’s himself, Charlie understood that rebuilding that damned thing was Blake’s way of grieving — that it was the fix he could never make happen for his equally broken father.

Which is beautiful and all, and Blake will never not be grateful to Charlie for fronting him the repair costs, but chick-flick moments aside, that shit ain’t free.

Not that Charlie’s asking, but Blake wants to pay him back.

Maybe it’s the last part of his grieving process or maybe he just thinks Charlie deserves it, either way — now that Hayden is all adult-shaped and supporting himself, Blake’s determined to get right.

Sure, he could bust his ass pulling overtime for the next ten years and put away pennies a week, but so sue him, Blake also wants to live a little, too.

He’s put his entire life (gladly) on the backburner for his brother’s sake, sacrificed every shot he could have taken to make damn sure that Hayden was always okay.

So on he flip side, as much as Charlie deserves his money back, Blake would really like to stretch his legs before he’s sixty, gray, and aching from existing, running out a life that’s practically over.

So whether Jess was joking or not, the idea of Blake semi-prostituting himself on camera for fun and cash in a luxurious tropical location? Not the worst half-baked idea he’s ever heard.