Chapter 8 #2
Nate manages a nod that Dave must interpret as agreement because he walks away as if it’s all settled.
“Nice going, Gnat,” I whisper once Dave is out of earshot, pulling my hand from Nate’s.
“You were there earlier today! At least for the beginning. What else would you have had me do?”
“I don’t know, but you’re not pulling this off.
” My words are harsh, but he’s the one who said he could be his brother.
Did he think it would be easy to step into Brody’s shoes?
Or did it just not matter since it’s not his job on the line?
Nate is the only one who doesn’t clearly benefit from the show succeeding, and that means he needs the most convincing to give this season and the plan his all.
“I’m trying. I can’t help it if I’m not Brody.” There’s a venom in Nate’s voice I don’t expect, but it weakens with a calming breath. “Look, we need to get Brody on a call ASAP.”
“What?”
“Brody needs to know what’s going on. He can figure out where things are going wrong before we get busted and ruin everything.”
“You want to tell Brody about this?” It’s a dumb question because this is the exact course of action I want to take. It just isn’t the one I expected Nate to suggest.
“We have to tell Brody,” Nate says, as if that’s the obvious or only course of action. “This show’s everything to him. Despite what you may think, I intend to do what I can to help him and this show succeed.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay,” Nate echoes.
As we grab a lantern and start back to our bungalow, I wonder if it’s possible that Nate and I agreed on something.
By the time we get Brody on a call back at the bungalow, recap the first excursion, and explain Dave’s feedback, I am exhausted. Too exhausted to put up with Brody’s tunnel vision regarding his show.
“Dave said the show is at risk?” Brody asks for the third time. If I couldn’t see him lying in his hospital bed, I would guess he was jumping on the first plane to Fiji to swoop in and save the show. Not that he can in his current state.
“This was your idea. Your plan,” I remind him, since Nate has gone unusually silent after presenting the facts of the situation.
“That’s because I thought the two of you could pull this off!”
“It’s just me who isn’t. Abigail has been great,” Nate interjects, stunning me into silence. Did Nate compliment me, and at his own expense?
If Nate clocks my surprise, it doesn’t deter him. “Instead of pointing fingers or berating me for not excelling at an acting job I didn’t want in the first place, could you jump in with something constructive? Perhaps how to turn things around and be more like you?”
“That’s what’s best for the show,” I cut Brody off at the pass in case he wants to whine more about how this isn’t playing out the way he had envisioned from the safety of his hospital bed.
“Okay.” Brody sighs loudly as he leans his head back on the hospital pillows, providing us with a less-than-ideal angle.
“Bro, don’t make us look up your nose.”
Brody’s neck snaps back down as he glares at the camera. “I’m thinking.”
“Well, being blinded or sick to our stomachs won’t help us here.”
Brody groans and then snaps the fingers on his mostly uninjured arm. “That’s it!”
Nate’s brow furrows. “What’s it?”
“Personality! The show is only partially about the actual excursions. The rest is about bringing the moment to life. Showing them why Brody Bannam is the go-to person for vicariously exploring the adrenaline junkie lifestyle.”
The last bit is from the latest updates we made to his media kit, but I don’t point that out. At least he’s embracing his brand, though that’s never really been a question. Brody’s entire life is about his brand.
“Personality?” Nate asks. “How do I ‘bring personality’ when I’m the only one on screen?”
“Easy!” Brody says. “Imagine Rush fans are right there with you. Address them like friends and share insights about the excursion and lifestyle.”
“How am I supposed to have insights when it’s my first time doing something like this?”
Nate raises a good point. Brody has been in the game for years—long enough to film two seasons of Rush and multiple seasons of Just Jump before that.
Plus, Brody claims to have been an adrenaline junkie before the cameras became interested in him.
While Nate is doing his best with the situation, he’s still new to all of this.
He doesn’t have a robust history to tap into, stories from doing similar activities, or pro tips for those watching the show.
Just himself. After what Dave said earlier, that isn’t enough.
“Just talk about what you’re doing and why you’re doing it that way,” Brody says. “Present a few unique insights so you’re not just going through the motions on screen.”
“I guess I can try.”
Nate’s response doesn’t inspire confidence, but he looks to be thinking the suggestion over.
The uncertainty in the air has to be palpable from Brody’s hospital room, yet he continues to take a tough-love approach. “Nate, you need to do more than try. Succeed. Otherwise, why did you go to Fiji? Are you looking to ruin my show?”
“Are you serious? I’m doing all this for you.” Nate spits back at the screen. “You don’t even appreciate it.”
“I’ll appreciate it when it works. Do you know what I’ve sacrificed to take the show this far? Most new shows fail after season one, and we’re on our third.”
Nate’s jaw tightens, likely biting back more words that would escalate this already heated conversation.
“Nate is helping.” My conviction surprises even me. “We’re both trying, but you’re not making it any easier.”
“I’m in the hospital, Abby. I’m doing what I can.”
Nate’s jaw twinges. “Being in the hospital made you forget to tell us about the team dinner?”
“Team dinner?” Brody’s brows furrow, then shoot up. “Oh, that’s something Jamie and I started to get the crew hyped for filming or whatever.”
“It’s supposed to build team morale and set an intentional energy for the season.” At least that’s what Jamie said earlier.
“Yeah, that too.”
“Jamie says she walks to dinner with you each season.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. If Brody understands the question beneath my observation, he doesn’t address it directly.
Instead, he gives a lopsided shrug. “I suppose that’s how I remember to go.”
Brody’s casualness about Jamie and forgetting the dinner puts me on edge. We’re trying to help, and he’s keeping key pieces of information from us. “Is there anything else you forgot to tell us?”
I don’t know what I expect from fishing like this, but I have to ask.
“Not that I can think of.”
“Okay, just keep us looped in,” Nate jumps in. “We’re doing our best to keep you updated and save your show. It’d be great if you could meet us halfway.”
“Fine,” Brody agrees, not making eye contact with the screen.
“Fine,” Nate echoes. “I’ll step out so you two can say goodnight.”
As Nate stands, I motion for Brody to say something to inspire Nate. Tough love and hard facts might inspire Brody, a veteran at this sort of thing, but it isn’t helping his brother. Nate needs encouragement to pull this off. That much is obvious.
Brody, either not understanding my gesture or not caring to, gives a good-shoulder shrug and lets silence linger between us until Nate is out of the room.
“You could be nicer to him.”
Brody rolls his eyes. “Abby, I need to know. Do you think he can do this?”
“Don’t you? You insisted this plan would work and talked us into it.”
“I know.” Brody lets out a long sigh. “I think he can. It’s just more difficult than expected. You know my brand and show, and now Nate. What do you think? If there’s any chance this season is going to be a flop, I need to get ahead of it. You’re my boots on the ground.”
More like strappy sandals, but I get his point.
Nate is trying, and he’s taking the plan more seriously than I initially expected.
Things almost imploded at the airport, but we got through it by working together.
Since getting to Fiji, he’s embraced his role as Brody, interacting with the crew as if he’s been working alongside them for two prior seasons, asking me to grab whatever Brody would normally drink from the bar, and handling the hike like a true athlete.
Not to mention he’s creating Brody’s necessary brand materials, like the show teaser he nailed in one take over blended cocktails.
Plus, he’s surprisingly convincing at selling the idea that we’re together by advocating for me not to be called Abby by the crew, defending me at dinner when I wished him a broken limb, and holding my hand when others can see it.
None of that aligns with what I knew of Nate before Fiji, but here I can see firsthand how hard he’s trying to make this plan and the show work. Brody questioning Nate’s dedication and capabilities from Vegas is just plain unfair.
“Nate can pull it off,” I say finally. “Give him a chance. Trust him—trust us—to do our part.”