Chapter 6
SIX
BITCH — MEREDITH brOOKS
It only takes a few hours for me to get the shots of the dock that I want.
By the time I actually board, most of the crew and contestants have arrived and are already preparing for the sailaway party, the first official activity of the show.
Granted, I haven’t watched many of the recent seasons, but I know the format well enough.
Tonight, the contestants will meet one another for the first time on the dedicated Love at First Sail deck before the ship departs.
With sixteen contestants, half men and half women, it will be all hands on deck—literally—so, I want to be sure that I’m prepared and ready.
With that many personalities in one very small space, something dramatic is sure to happen—whether by accident or by design.
As I enter the grand atrium in the center of the ship, my attention is immediately drawn to the vibrant shades of neon purple and blue that bathe the entire space in an ethereal glow.
Several balconies overlook this area, and two expansive silver staircases twine up toward each level, their banisters lit with neon lights and a column of what looks like falling stars draped in a looping descent at the center of the spiral.
A nod to the ship’s namesake, one half of a huge amethyst geode, its center exposed to reveal hundreds of sparkling purple gems, sits in the middle of the space, deep purple benches lining the display.
Its twin half is recessed into a solid section of the atrium’s glass ceiling, forming the centerpiece of a huge, glittering silver chandelier that extends nearly down to the floor.
I wonder if, in another life, I could enjoy a space like this—decadent in its own luxurious way, and a true master class in lighting.
And yet, all I can think about is how distracting all the neon lights are.
So unnatural. Unnecessary. My mind wanders back to the streets of Rome, with its sunbaked terracotta rooftops and creamy limestone and ochre buildings, and I’m suddenly sad that I didn’t have more time with Sora during our excursion to the city center.
I find the main concierge desk without issue, tucked discreetly behind a gleaming column of silver, and check in. I take my key card, quickly forming a plan to go repack my kit in my room and maybe get changed, but before I can even attempt to find my way, Glen has me cornered.
I’m still not over our conversation from this morning, despite the fake smile I’ve got plastered on my face, and I can feel heat clawing its way up my neck.
It suddenly feels like it’s a thousand degrees in here.
“Hey, Chlo, I’m so glad I ran into you. Look, I hate to do this—” Glen starts, his tone wheedling. He places a hand on my arm and gives me a saccharine smile that says “I need something from you.”
“Sure, what’s up?” Internally, I’m screaming. All I want to do is take a hot shower and wash this day off me before I spend the rest of the night with a twenty-pound camera strapped to my shoulder.
But I don’t want to appear like I’m too much for Glen.
“I’m going to need your eyes on Demi’s contestant tonight.”
“The difficult one?”
“Yup—the blond. I can’t remember her name.
Misty? Moira?” he says, his tone becoming hushed.
“Demi has been working her all day. She’s a bit of a diva, that’s for sure.
Several tantrums, very high-maintenance.
But she’s also a bit cold. I’m hoping to mix in a bit of tequila and see what kind of spicy confessionals we might get from her tonight. ”
There’s hunger in his eyes. I know the more drama that happens on-camera, the bigger Glen’s bonus will be, but it feels…wrong, to cheer for someone’s very public downfall for the sake of ratings.
The poor girl.
But then I think about Demi’s face, twisted in a sour grimace as she berated Glen this morning. Maybe I should be more worried about Demi. If this contestant really is as difficult as they say, I’m just hoping I can keep out of her way.
“No problem, Glen. Anything else?”
“You’re the best, Chlo. No, nothing else, I’m just going to—” Before he can finish his sentence, a PA hauling a load of gear on a dolly a few feet away manages to bump into a woman holding a champagne flute.
She whirls to give the poor kid a piece of her mind, and Glen is off in a flash to fix the problem.
I take the opportunity to escape, and head down a hallway that leads to the cabins.
Once I’ve found my room, I collapse onto the bed. I feel the familiar tug of jet lag as it tries to pull my body into sleep, but I resist. I can’t nap right now.
Thankfully, a knock at my door quickly has me back on my feet, and I swing the door open with a little more force than necessary. Sora smiles at me from the other side, her cheeks flushed. The dark purple circles that sat under her eyes this morning are still there, though, and I feel for her.
“Hey! How are you feeling?”
“Oh, I’m alright,” she replies. “Mind if I come in?”
I hold the door open and she lurches forward, then plops down on the edge of the bed with a groan that tells me her exhaustion is bone-deep.
Scrubbing a hand over her face, she sets her dark eyes on me with a sober frown—there’s no sign of the perky, ambitious young woman I met on the plane.
“Thanks again for what you did at the hotel this morning. I…wasn’t myself.”
“Yeah, no problem. This—” I gesture vaguely to our surroundings, “is a lot. Believe me, I get it.”
I busy myself with unpacking my camera and setting up the battery chargers.
“Yeah, it is a lot,” she repeats. She looks shell-shocked. For a minute I wonder if she’s fallen asleep with her eyes open, what with the way she’s blankly staring off into the distance, but then she lets out a long, deep sigh.
“I’m sure it’s obvious by now, but this is my first shoot. Like…not just my first time traveling, but my first real gig. I don’t even graduate until June.”
It is obvious, but I’m not going to tell her that.
Defeat laces her words. Her shoulders are hunched inwards, and I recognize the turbulence brewing in her expression.
I know that girl. The one who’s so overwhelmed by this new world that she’s frozen with fear, second-guessing everything she does or says, her inner monologue repeating the same thing over and over again: run.
I was that girl.
Honestly, I’m still that girl.
Well, I guess that woman. Or ma’am, if you’re every person I meet before they learn my name…
The pain on Sora’s face transports me back to a time in my life when I was floundering on the set of my first gig, putting myself out there, taking that daunting step into the unknown for the first time.
I loved it.
And it broke me.
I cross the room and sit next to her on the bed.
“Been there. One of my first shoots was in Iceland. Call time was 6 AM, and we were being shuttled to the filming location. I guess with the jet lag and the fact that it was dark for something like twenty hours of the day, I slept through my alarm. The director called, and I basically sprinted down to the lobby of the hotel to find everyone waiting on me. Thankfully, I was only ten minutes late. But he gave me a very firm lecture.”
It still made me feel sick recalling that moment and the prickling sensation of shame that oozed throughout my entire body as he told me, in no uncertain terms, the call time is the call time. And next time? They’d leave without me.
“Oh my God, I would die,” Sora breathes as she turns to face me, her eyes wide. I chuckle.
“I was mortified. He should have fired me.” Looking back on it, any other DOP would have kicked my ass to the curb without a second thought.
But he didn’t, for some reason. Maybe he saw something in me.
Maybe he needed me. Maybe I reminded him of his daughter, or, hell, even himself.
I still think about him. For all the misogyny this industry bred, there were some men I had worked with over the years who had made a conscious effort to help me. Not a lot of men…but some.
“Did it happen again?”
“Well, I started setting way more alarms from then on with the hope that I wouldn’t sleep through another call time.
But I think the anxiety of not waking up really messed with my head…
My body fell into this rhythm of waking up, every hour on the hour, to make sure I was, you know, not in danger of being eaten by a lion or something.
I was so obsessed with not screwing up that my nervous system interpreted the whole experience as a threat. ”
Sora’s brows arch upward. “Well, thankfully, sleep is not something I am struggling with right now. I could literally sleep on my feet in a hurricane at this point.” I feel my mouth tilt up into a small smile.
“This job…it’s a lot for anyone. Once it’s over, you’re going to go home, and no one else will understand how it felt for you to be here—to meet new people every day, to become used to the little details of a new environment, even just seeing a different night sky at the end of each day.
And worse yet, there are no nine-to-five hours, no mandated breaks.
Parts of this job can be so brutal…but also really exciting. ”
Sora takes a deep breath and nods. “I didn’t expect to feel that way this morning. I think…I think maybe it scared me a little bit.”
“It won’t be that way forever.” Sora’s expression relaxes ever so slightly.
“Can you teach me how to be in two places at once? Because that seems to be a problem I’m going to have.”
I laugh softly and stand to continue working on my pack. “That, sadly, I cannot. What’s conflicting?”
“I have to meet one of the producers tomorrow to shoot some contestant confessionals, but I’m also supposed to drop off the crew’s menu orders at the same time, on the opposite side of the ship. I don’t know how I’m going to do both.”
“I can drop them off,” I say, matter-of-factly.
Her face brightens, and she jumps up. “Really? Oh my gosh, that would help so much!”
“Yeah, it’s no issue.”