Chapter 25
Six weeks. It took me six weeks to completely destroy the credibility of the UK’s hottest new dating show and turn my life around.
Is December Fools a thing? Because that’s what this feels like
Gemma’s cryptic AF. What does that even meaannn???
This is so stupid. It’s all made up!
Thanks to members of the live audience secretly filming the drama unfolding once the feed cut out, we didn’t have to do anything more for people to start demanding the truth from the creators of the show. Very quickly, the channel cancelled series two. I reinstated my Instagram account and posted the video of what happened to me, along with a “story-time” telling everyone about the year I’d had, keeping specific details of the show out of it but making it clear reality TV and real life are two very different things. The goal was to give people a new perspective, but more than anything, it felt good to get everything off my chest.
Without expecting them to, my castmates – because that’s what they are: performers in an unscripted drama, not game-show contestants – flocked to the comments to voice their support, and that gave viewers of the show even more to question. If the people I supposedly hated, fought with, and backstabbed on the show cared that much, surely I couldn’t be half the villain I was made out to be. That, plus the reunion, set the wheels in motion, though a lot of people still had it out for me and accused me of playing the victim.
But then Pete insisted on a catch-up.
We both thought going along with his plan on the show would redeem my arrival. It wasn’t until we got out that we saw how much worse things got for me by staying. So, being the schemer he is, Pete pitched me a new idea, and the next thing I knew, we were in a bougie London home staging a photoshoot. It was all glamour, both of us dressed to the nines, posing on a sofa in a beautifully decorated living room. We both had duct tape over our mouths, which was what got people to realise this wasn’t any ordinary photo. When his fans and my haters zoomed in, they found all kinds of easter eggs alluding to something more going on. We both had our fingers crossed and wore a friendship bracelet on each of our wrists. His said the word “just”, and mine said “friends”. On the shelf behind us was a stack of books, fake-dating rom-coms mixed in with TV editing tricks, Frankenstein, an intimacy coordinator handbook, a legal guide to NDAs, and a book on the Meisner acting technique. And if that wasn’t enough, there was also a candle on the table with a label that read “smells like bullshit”.
What I wasn’t expecting was Pete’s caption:
Take nothing at face value. This wonderful and kind woman changed my life, and I owe her everything. She isn’t who you think she is. Look past what you see on the surface, and you’ll discover that too.
I don’t blame Pete for my downfall – I thought faking it with him was a good idea too at the time – but I do give him most of the credit for my vindication. It had to start with me though. I had to believe I was worth saving and be willing to put myself out there again.
It took me too long to speak up and defend myself, but I’m never going to let anything or anyone silence me again.
That picture was the final nail in the coffin and there was nothing the TV execs could do about it, because technically we didn’t mention the show directly. They had enough to deal with as it was. After that, huge opportunities, like the ones I’d dreamed of being offered when I chose to take part in the show, started coming in. Modelling agencies and talent management companies tried to convince me to sign with them, promising me the representation I deserved, but I turned them all down. I know how to land brand deals on my own and how to get paid work on my terms, and that’s what I’ve started doing again. No contracts tying me down – nothing but the content I create, post, and own being shared in return for payment. No more feeding plants for me. I don’t need an empire; I just want a peaceful life.
Although, there is one contract I’d sign up to over and over again…
“Keep them closed!” Tom covers my eyes and shuffles us inside his cabin. I’ve barely set foot on the ship, and already he’s up to something. “And…open!”
My lashes, still wet with happy tears, blink as they adjust to the light again. I take in Tom’s room. It’s exceptionally tidy and decorated with tinsel and fairy lights. Even though I was disappointed not to be back with him in time for Christmas, it meant I got to spend the holiday with my whole family, which we all thought would be a rarity with both me and Oscar working on ships. Then, when Oscar went off to meet Eliza’s family for what I’m sure was an incredibly wholesome evening, Tom and I celebrated our first Christmas together virtually, which was…everything other than wholesome.
“Welcome to your new room.”
Huh?“But what about Jack?” Surely all three of us can’t share. Not full-time. He’d get sick of us.
“He’s happy with his new arrangement.”
I wrestle with the guilt that I’ve indirectly evicted him. “But?—”
A sly grin spreads across Tom’s cheeks and he places his hands on my waist. “There’s been a development.”
“Care to elaborate on that?”
“I’ll tell you later, but right now…” He presses his lips against mine and moans with satisfaction. He does it again, the moan even bigger, as if he’s eating his favourite flavour of ice cream. “Oh man, I can’t believe I get to do this again.” He kisses me once more, his hands roaming to my bum and squeezing me like he was desperately trying not to do at the gangway. “Can’t do this on FaceTime.”
I giggle, pulling him in even closer to me, unable to get enough of him.
“Oh, I should tell you, there are rules that apply to this living set-up. Well, only one, but I take it very seriously.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“No clothes past this point.” He walks into the centre of the room and draws an imaginary line on the floor from the end of the desk to the wall on the opposite side. “And the rule is, if you’re caught past this line in your clothes, they get taken off for you.”
I smile, thinking of all the fun we’ll have living together properly. “But you’re past the line right now.”
“Who said I was the only one the rule applied to?”
And with a smirk as sexy as that, how can I resist? I cross the line and go to him, immediately reaching for the hem of his T-shirt. “As if I need a reason to take your clothes off.”
“Can’t I…see him tomorrow?” I say through a yawn as I lean on Tom’s shoulder. Today has been long enough without the jet lag.
“Push through, Princess. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
“Why the mystery? Why can’t you tell me?”
“You’ll see.” He squeezes my thigh.
I grumble, and he kisses the top of my head.
I attempt to keep my eyes open by people-watching while we wait for Jack to join us in the bar.
“Stay awake, baby,” Tom says softly, and the next thing I know, I’m staring back at my face on his selfie camera. Oops. “Smile for the grandkids.”
Effortlessly, I do.
Once I braved it and began posting on socials again, Tom finally took the plunge and did the same. After multiple weeks of gigging back on land, he has a huge backlog of content stored up to use. And now he knows what he’s doing, he’s going to make it stretch over a longer period of time. His plan is to post stand-up clips until he eventually runs out, then he’ll go back to “not-vlogging” with me. His online return has been well-received. Of course, we can never fully escape people who want to rain on our parade, but we aren’t giving anyone the power to destroy us.
“Here he is!” Tom gets up, and I do the same.
I was expecting a new hairdo, a face tattoo, a piercing, or something big, but Jack looks exactly the same as before, except…happier. Almost as if there’s a spring in his step.It’s not until I look at the girl holding his hand that I realise why he might be okay with not sharing a room with Tom anymore.
“Who’s that?” I ask Tom tunefully, excited Jack’s opened himself up to love again.
He looks at me with an amused grin. “Sadie.”