Chapter 19 – Pookie #2
The host, Matty Banks, stands in front of the chairs, drinking wine with one hand while reading through cue cards with the other.
He's a notable professional who spent the first ten years of adulthood playing baseball before pivoting to the world of entertainment.
At first, he hosted game shows, but after coming out of the closet, found a new home at the head of Flaunt TV, the premiere network for queer audiences.
Word on the street is he's a total dick, but you know what they say about rumors?
Meh, fuck it. This one's probably true.
Production ushers us to our seats, which we don't get to choose.
The seating arrangements have been chosen carefully for maximum drama.
Starting on the left couch, from left to right, is Boone, Dixon, Braxton, and myself.
Matty Banks sits in the chair beside me while Mr. Pink sits in the other.
On the couch opposite of us, from right to left, is Gunnar, Maverick, Avalon, and Tamra.
We do a final mic check as the minutes count down to zero, and when we run out of time, that's when we go live.
The lights dim as the Pink Stallions logo flashes on the screen.
There's a quick montage of scenes from the season, but they're spliced together like a strobe light with fast cuts.
Matty's voice narrates the opening: "One year ago, the sexiest, wildest, messiest bartenders on the East Coast set out on a journey to document their lives living in the city that never sleeps.
It wasn't all work, though. The explosive, record-setting first season featured all the play, the fights, the drama, and the friendship.
It all culminates here tonight, right where it all began as the Pink Stallions assemble for the first time since filming wrapped... "
Already, a narrative is forming. We all still work at the bar, so we see each other all the time. This whole 'for the first time' bit reads as hyperbole to stoke up the drama, but I digress.
"If we know anything about the pink men and women of NYC, we know to expect tears, drama, and revelations.
We picked up the cameras from the time the cast arrived, and if you think what you're about to see is shocking, just wait until they all come face to face in the Pink Stallions' first-ever reunion. "
Braxton's fingers crawl over mine, and he offers my hand a gentle squeeze before prying himself away.
It's a quick gesture that works to calm me for a split second until another montage begins playing, showing the events of this afternoon leading up to the big show.
It begins simply enough, with the cast walking up the alley as we arrive.
The cameras follow us inside. It cuts to what sounds like Dixon and Mike arguing.
The camera zooms in and focuses on the two of them standing in the back hallway, propped up against the closed darkroom.
"You're not going to pull this shit today," Dixon seethes.
"I'm tired of pretending—" Mike's words trail off as he spots the camera at the end of the hall.
The video cuts to Avalon brushing past Maverick, giving him the cold shoulder. Then, she's standing outside in the cold with a puffer jacket, smoking a cigarette. She looks straight at the camera. "We haven't talked for like... I want to say two weeks."
Matty's voice rumbles overhead as the screen fades to black. "But nothing was more explosive than what happened just moments ago in the dressing room."
The video begins blurred, and it's hard to make out anything, but the sound of the two men arguing is impossible to mistake—Braxton and Gunnar.
"If you're going to hit me, why don't you just fucking do it?" Gunnar questions, his words sounding like a taunt. "All you do is run your fucking mouth."
"What the fuck are you going to do about it, Mama's boy?" Braxton quips back.
The scene pulls into focus: the two of them are locked in a scuffle on the floor.
Now, I was sitting there when it happened, but none of those words were said.
They've had less than an hour to build a narrative that suits them.
They've once again pitted Braxton and Gunnar against each other by splicing together words they most likely said at one point, but not today.
The screen fades to black as the stage lights gradually brighten.
Matty smiles directly at the camera in front of him. "The Pink Stallions reunion starts now." He carries that same smile as he shifts his attention to Maverick. "Hi, Maverick, how are you? Are you excited?"
"I'm happy to be here, and I'm happy to be looking this good." He laughs softly, and I realize in that moment that he's perfect for this. He's always so cool, calm, and collected, and he seduces the camera like he was born to own it. "How are you, Matty?"
"I'm excited to be here with y'all. Like everyone else, I've watched the season play out, and it has been a riveting experience.
" The audience claps and cheers as Matty grabs the top cue card off the small table between Mr. Pink and him.
"You're an openly bisexual man, and the fans have been fascinated with your on-again, off-again relationship with Avalon.
" He holds up a cue card and reads a message from a fan.
"Jen from Michigan asks, 'Why don't Maverick and Avalon just find a third?
It's clear he wants the best of both worlds, and it's even more clear she's okay with sharing. '"
Maverick greets the host's intrusive question with his trademarked grin and wags his finger. "Everyone knows I like to have fun." He points to Avalon. "She has just as much fun. And look, I get that our relationship might be confusing, but it works for us. Good question, though, Jen from Michigan."
Avalon nods. "I agree completely. Like, when we're on, we're good. Even when we're off, like we're still good."
Matty nods. "So good that you two haven't spoken in two weeks.
" It's catty and bitchy, proving my point that he's not a nice person.
"I want to turn the attention to Braxton, who we just saw in the intro package getting into yet another skirmish with Gunnar.
" He grabs another cue card. "I know that fight just happened, but there were plenty of others before it.
Ashley from Pennsylvania wants to know what it is about your guys' relationship that brings out the worst in each other? "
"He's an asshole." Braxton gestures to Gunnar on the opposite couch. "He knows that. Everyone knows that. Everyone here on these couches cares about each other, but we're like a family. Families fight."
Matty grimaces. "I don't fight with my family."
"Well then," Braxton begins with a chuckle, "they probably talk about you behind your back. I'd much rather they be direct."
I peel my gaze sideways and watch as Braxton nervously scratches at the nonexistent stubble on his chin. Here lies Braxton, dead by word vomit.
"Pookie," Matty steals my attention with a calculated grin. "You're the newest cowboy on the strip, and you've made quite an entrance, stealing the hearts of the fans."
"Thank you," I say with all the politeness I can muster, but I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Brenda from the Netherlands wants to know what it was like coming into this friend group blind."
Whew.I breathe in quiet relief. An easy question. "I didn't really know what to expect coming in, but I'm thankful for the warm welcome I received—"
"That's interesting that you phrase it like that," Matty interrupts me.
"Many would counter that you had a rocky introduction to this group, but we're going to have plenty of time to discuss that later on.
" He points to the camera and smiles—the same smile that's starting to grate on my last nerve.
"Coming up next, we talk to the leading men of Hell's Kitchen about how their lives have changed in the last year.
We'll be back after this commercial break. "
As we break for commercial, I turn to Braxton with a heavy sigh and a subtle shake of my head.
He leans to whisper in my ear, "That guy is a fucking prick."
"No shit," I whisper back.
The commercial break lasts for approximately three minutes, and we spend the next two segments talking about lighter stuff—what it's like to live in the city, how we were all struggling to pay our bills before the show, what our favorite and least favorite drinks are to make, and if we've ever gone home with a customer.
Everyone raises their hands, admitting to the last question.
Everyone except me. In retrospect, perhaps I should have raised my hand to help throw the wolves off our scent.
It's been about an hour, and the time is flying by.
But the cruel hand of fate slows the minutes to a crawl as Matty gleefully announces the intro to the next segment.
"He was gone as fast as he came, but nobody caused more of a stir than Cameron Shields.
From the time he stepped foot in this friend group, tensions soared.
" He directs his attention to Gunnar as he grabs a cue card.
"Thomas from Nevada asks, 'What happened to Cameron?
Gunnar was smitten, and then he simply vanished, never to be seen again. '"
Gunnar forces a laugh. "Thomas clearly doesn't know me. I can be smitten one day and bored the next." He claps his hands. "And that's the boring truth. I got bored."
"But can't you see how it would appear suspicious that he vanishes in the middle of a group trip? Surely, there's more to the story."
Gunnar meets my gaze for a quick moment, swallows a dry lump, and looks back at Matty. He wets his lips, and I can see the lies forming on the tip of his tongue before he utters them: "I cheated on Cameron. He found out after our sit-down with Pookie and Braxton, and he left right after."
Matty shares a look with Talon, who stands behind the opposite couch. Talon pulls a stack of papers to his mouth and nods, giving Matty some kind of signal. Or maybe I'm just paranoid.