Chapter 16
“It’s not that I don’t respect your opinion,” Eli says, walking with the studied grace of a gymnast as he, Fonzie, Kay Lee, and I stroll through the corridor that connects the conference center with the hotel. It’s been an exhausting day.
Looking down at Eli, I squint to focus on what he’s saying.
“You are the master, after all,” Eli continues, “but my instinct is telling me not to incorporate that move.”
Fonzie shakes his head while I hold on to a very unprofessional sigh. Eli asks me the most questions of anyone on the show and takes the least amount of my advice.
Nineteen-year-old Kay Lee, one of only two contestants shorter than Eli—the other being Yolanda—listens to him adoringly. Her pink Stetson shadows brown eyes that are as wide and innocent as a child’s.
I shrug. “In the end, you have to be responsible for you. I was only pointing out that you barely included a balance element.”
“Yeah, I get that, but it’s audience vote.”
Kay Lee laughs. Eli bites his lip, as if he didn’t mean to give away the fact that he doesn’t think the audience will really give a damn about the weekly fitness themes.
“Did you give similar advice to Yolanda?” Fonzie asks.
Oh, man. He’s the third contestant to ask me about Yolanda. Do they think I’m giving her advice that I wouldn’t give to everyone? “Yes, in fact, I did.” Actually, I was harder on her, and she rose to my challenge, literally. “When I coach, I give each of you the advice I think you most need.”
“Did she listen?” Kay Lee asks. “Or is she more like Eli—all ask and no action?”
Eli barks a laugh.
I’m not sure if she’s insinuating something sexual between Yolanda and me, so I answer blandly. “She incorporated the balance and flexibility elements I suggested.”
Eli’s eyes widen as someone puts a hand on my shoulder. A smile breaks over his face. “Hi, Parker. We were just discussing our routines with Easton.”
I nod hello to Parker. Today, her lipstick and nails match her outfit, a sleek-ass terracotta pantsuit with a green belt. This woman is a walking challenge to the status quo.
She joins us with a brisk, “Gang, do you mind giving Easton and me a minute?”
“Of course,” Eli says, voice tight. “Let’s go, gang.”
He saunters off with the others, glancing back once to give Parker the stink eye. Nothing about Parker is shy or reserved or gentle. I like that about her, but I can see her dismissal hit Eli the wrong way.
Parker and I continue in step. It’s late, we’re done filming for the day, and I think we’re both eager to get back to our rooms… except, her eyes gleam with excitement.
“You’ve seen the dailies?”
A smile rises across her face like the sun breaking the horizon in the morning. It suffuses her with light. “You knocked it out of the park. I knew you were good. I’ve seen your social media. You have a natural charm and an ability to keep it light even while delving into more serious issues. But what you did today? You were playing for keeps.”
She has no idea how right she is because I’m playing to keep my company. “Thanks. I’m pumped about our first show’s ratings, but I think the first week of actual competition is going to double those numbers. What did you think of everyone’s routines?”
She bobs her head for a second, a pendulum considering. “Fonzie is dynamic and personable in that Midwest way. Colette is gregarious and open.”
She ticks down the list of contestants. “Elijah—Eli—understands the game and is captivating in that way of finely-featured, beautiful gay men. Sil has that whole androgenous, safe-but-sexy thing going on. Cameron has those rough and somewhat endearing qualities of a former MMA fighter. If Rocky were a good ol’ boy from Louisiana, he’d be Cameron. Kay Lee knows her brand and is sticking to it like glue. She’s all Korean-American country girl with blonde highlights and big white teeth.
Though Kay Lee did show up today in cutoff jeans and a pink Stetson, I blanche at this characterization. An unsettled feeling slips into my stomach. Parker isn’t evaluating routines. She’s evaluating people as characters for her show.
“Unfortunately, our good doctor is proving to be a challenge. He’d be better with a half hour talk show. I need action. I’m not sure if it’s his training as a physician, his focus on yoga, or his upbringing, but he needs to stop explaining everything.”
As she expands on her opinions, part of me wants to shout, “What about their routines, their styles, the content and the impact their creativity will make on people’s conditioning and mindset?”
Yes. It’s her job to tell a story, but hearing her talk about people as two-dimensional characters makes me feel like I swallowed six slices of greasy pizza.
She keeps talking as we pass advertisements for a local Brazilian dance troupe set up along the long, wide passageway. “And Yolanda is plain old fire. Those hips are magic. When she kicks it into high gear, she heats up the screen. Surprising since she’s so vanilla otherwise.”
How could Parker have seen Yolanda in that mouthwatering outfit today, seen her smile, and the way she fought to make magic from that routine and still call her vanilla? “I see nothing vanilla about her. She’s able to motivate and articulate during the toughest routines. She’s an incredible instructor.”
Parker smirks. “Oh, it’s obvious what you think about Yolanda. The scenes with you two…” She fans herself with her long-nailed hand, lolling her pink tongue out for emphasis. “Some of the best footage yet. I love that whole ‘grumpy coach trying to resist sexy sunshine’ dynamic you two have going. I intend to use that chemistry, assuming she stays on this week. Which is a safe assumption, since her routine was so damn hot.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” I swallow my rising voice and my rising anger as we cross into the hotel lobby and onto tiled floors. What did I give away in that session? I thought I was being stern with Yolanda, a little harsh even. Dammit. The last thing I need is for Paul and the board to see me acting the horny teenager. “I don’t want the other contestants to think I’m more interested in helping her than them.”
Parker angles her head to the side as she stares at me. I get the impression she’s trying to figure me out, like a 6’-4” puzzle.
“Why would they? There’s great footage of you coaching all the contestants. And didn’t I just see you giving extra time to three of the contestants?”
When I don’t answer, she shakes her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll be building arcs for each of them. It’s what I do. And what I do well, which is why you hired me. But the footage with Yolanda and you bursts with sexual and personal chemistry. It’s not something that can be manufactured. It’s alive. I’d be an idiot to ignore that. Does it make you uncomfortable?”
The feeling I get around Yolanda is anything but uncomfortable. She makes me feel a little too good.
I clear my throat. “If Yolanda is given more airtime, it’ll appear she’s being elevated. That’s clearly against show rules.”
“I’m not giving her more airtime, East.” She says this as if insulted. “We have rules about equal airtime, and I’ll stick to them. But if the footage I get with you and Yolanda tells a deep and dramatic and more engaging story than what I get with you and Fonzie, well then, that’s going to be part of the show. I’d be foolish not to use that kind of footage. So, if you’re okay with it, I’ll keep at it.”
I’m not okay with it. “Are you talking about manufacturing situations so that you can get steamier footage? Because that seems unfair.”
She shoots me a disbelieving look. “Unfair? In what way? All the contestants are aware of the rules. Each of them knows it isn’t only their routines, but their engagement with you and with each other that sets the stage for how we present them.
“That’s why each of them tried to build their own angle with you. Elijah decided to challenge you, thinking the tension would play well. Something, I’ll obviously use. It adds to the show.
“Colette has gone for the sisterly confidant and friend. I’ll use that, too. Fonzie is all about the bromance and ten-laughs-a-minute. That’ll work into the show. Doc treats you like an equal. Cameron like a rival. Kay Lee like a big brother. All good for the show, because as we lose a contestant a week or every two weeks, I’m going to need to fill the same amount of time with fewer people. I need angles I can use to intrigue our viewership. The contestants know that. And I thought you did, too. So, I have to ask myself: why are you so upset with me moving in this direction with Yolanda?”
Sweat breaks out behind my ears and rolls down my hairline. I can’t admit my situation with the board, but she needs some honesty from me. “She’s hot and someone I have history with. I don’t like the idea of looking like I’m giving her preferential treatment, especially after that scandal with my ex.”
Which is true. Equally true is that the whole reason I’m doing this show is to restore my reputation. I lose all sense of that fact, the cameras, and my reactions when I’m with Yolanda. If Parker is putting us in situations where that sexual tension is highlighted, she’s making my goal harder.
Parker grimaces with her teeth gnashed together as she absorbs what I said. Her lips relax. “It’s not the same. This is all in front of the cameras, Yolanda isn’t your current anything, so as long as you don’t give in to that chemistry—and I know you’re a big boy, so I won’t even go there—I really don’t see any problem.”
“Giving in to the chemistry isn’t going to happen, but not feeling that chemistry… I don’t even know how to turn something like that off. It’s like fighting to hold back a sneeze. It’s so unnatural.”
It keeps blindsiding me, even when I’m fighting hard to create cool distance.
“Okay.” She taps her fingernail against her bottom lip. “Obviously, I can’t control your reactions to Yolanda, so what do you need from me?”
This is a very direct woman. So direct, I now realize I’m an idiot. I’m the only one in control of my reactions. Telling her not to feature Yolanda and me is not only asking her not to do her job, but truly unfair to Yolanda. She has a right to her airtime, despite my raging libido.
So, what do I need?
“Just please don’t put anything out there that makes it seem like I’m…” a man pining after his long-lost love, “playing favorites with Yolanda. I’m working my ass off for each contestant, no matter who they are.”
“Ah, I see. That I can definitely do. You’re really quite balanced in your coaching,” she says, “so I’ll make sure to emphasize that.”
Her reassurance helps but doesn’t eliminate the pressure in my shoulders. Sure, this situation with Yolanda is a lot different from what happened with Cecily, but it comes down to the same thing—my life’s work is being put at risk because of my feelings for someone. Fuck that. No matter how different what I feel for Yolanda seems, I won’t make that mistake again.
As my history with women shows, my feelings aren’t trustworthy.