Sidecar Crush

The beginning of the episode had focused on Rudy Barron, a professional basketball player who’d left the NBA last year, and Simone Prince, the daughter of a wealthy hotel mogul. They’d seemed to get along fine during filming, but from the first episode, the footage had been edited to make it appear as if they were enemies. A clip of Simone glaring at something off camera was quickly followed by a shot of Rudy.

Then I was back on screen. Everyone was in the cabin, sitting by candlelight. The episode’s challenge was over, and I already knew Brock had won, earning immunity from being voted off. We’d filmed the end of this episode several different ways. In one of the versions, I was voted off, but Brock valiantly gave up his immunity so I could stay. Another had someone else being voted off, and me making a dramatic show of being relieved. I wondered which ending they were going to use.

Brock got up and looked around. The camera switched to me, glancing in what looked like Brock’s direction. He tipped his head, like he was signaling someone—me, apparently, although I didn’t remember that—and went into a back room.

The camera panned across the rest of the cast, showing them going about their business in the low light. Like it was important to establish that everyone was busy—no one paying attention to Brock.

I got up and slipped into the back room with him.

My stomach turned over. I remembered going in there with Brock. The producers had delivered a message from his wife, but denied his request for a phone to call her back. She’d been laid up with a broken leg, and he was worried about her. But we weren’t allowed contact with the outside world during filming.

He’d told me about it earlier that day, and I’d known he was upset. So when he’d gone back there, I’d sat and talked to him for a while. I hadn’t realized the crew had still been filming.

Low voices carried through the door, but it was as if the microphones couldn’t pick up the words clearly. It sounded like a man and woman speaking, but there was no telling who it really was. The scene cut again to show that the other cast members were still oblivious to whatever was supposedly going on behind that door.

The camera panned to the back room, and subtitles with our names appeared on the bottom of the screen.

Leah: Are you sure you’re okay?

Brock: Yeah, I’ll be fine.

Leah: Good. Come here, then.

Brock: *groans* We really shouldn’t.

Leah: No one will know.

Brock: Are you sure?

Leah: Positive. *sound of a zipper* Trust me.

Brock: Oh f***, Leah. Holy s***.

Anger bubbled up in my stomach. They’d actually put sound of a zipper on the damn screen in the middle of words I’d never said. My cheeks flushed hot and I turned it off.

“That wasn’t real, Daddy,” I said, suddenly keenly aware that my dad had just watched what was apparently his daughter about to give a guy a blow job in a storage room. “None of that happened. That wasn’t me talking. They made all that up.”

He gave me a sympathetic smile. “Ah, sweetheart.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I didn’t want to cry. I was angry, and tears weren’t going to do me any good. I got up and went outside, bringing up Kelvin’s number.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Do you know what they did on that damn show?” I asked. “Have you seen it yet?”

“Babe, you’re three hours ahead of me,” he said. “It hasn’t aired yet.”

“They made it look like I fucking blew Brock Winston in a storage room.”

“Whoa, calm down,” he said. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Are you kidding?” I tried to lower my voice so my dad wouldn’t hear, but it was hard to keep myself under control. “Kelvin, they used fake subtitles. I never unzipped his fucking pants and talked him into a fucking blow job.”

“Leah, take it down a notch.”

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head and my throat felt like it was closing. I gaped at the darkness, my mouth hanging open, unable to get a word out.

“Babe, listen,” he said, his voice infuriatingly calm, “ratings are going to be through the roof on this episode. Hang on, I’m checking something. Oh god, Leah, this is perfect.”