Read Playing Games Online

Authors: Jill Myles

Tags: #romantic comedy, #guitarist, #reality tv, #travel abroad, #jill myles, #rock star hero, #rock hero

Playing Games (2 page)

BOOK: Playing Games
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He shot me a nasty look, as if reading my
thoughts. "Katy, you'd better race like you've never raced before,
or so help me—"

I raised a hand. "I will. Just don't expect
me to be excited right now, okay? The only thing I'm going to be
racing for is some Pepto."

He was right, though; I should have eaten
something that day. Of course, I hadn't counted on being quite so
nervous.

We'd arrived for the casting call last night
and had been sequestered in the hotel rooms given to us. No contact
with the outside world for the next three weeks, according to our
non-disclosure agreements. No cellphones, no email, nothing. I'd
had to temporarily put my business on hiatus, and it rankled a bit,
but I just thought of that twenty grand. I’d make it up to the
customers I’d disappointed somehow.

As soon as we'd woken up that morning, we'd
been dragged into a whirlwind of preparations for the show. A
casting assistant had been assigned to us and had gone over our
bags one more time, removing everything that might interfere with
'the experience.' No sunglasses. No hats unless approved first by
the network. No clothing except the mandatory gear they'd given us.
One backpack apiece. No food or drink, nothing that would set off
airport security, and for me, no bright lipsticks. They'd even gone
so far as to assign me a hairstyle - the two dorky pigtails I'd
worn for the initial casting call. They wanted to create a ‘look,’
they'd told us. We were characters on a show, and characters needed
a memorable look. It was in the contracts, and I'd had no choice
but to comply. My look, unfortunately, seemed to be backwoods
cowgirl.

That was probably my fault. Stupid pigtails
at the audition.

Our clothing was not so bad. The show had an
athletic sponsor, and so everything we wore was branded with the
same logo, right down to my sports bra and panties. Each team was
assigned several shirts with the name written across the back, and
a color for their team. Brodie and I were yellow, and I had black
leggings with a yellow racing stripe, a yellow t-shirt with KATY
written in big letters across the back, a matching hoodie, and a
puffy yellow jacket for colder climates.

Once we'd been patted down, we were dragged
to pre-show interviews. The network itself took at least an hour's
worth of interview footage with me, one with me and Brodie
together, and then we'd been rushed around to a few different radio
and TV press junkets for use in the future.

And then we were dashed into a sedan and
drove to where we currently stood - a football stadium. Not just
any stadium, but the Cowboys Stadium. Row after row of seating
loomed over us as we walked out onto the field, cameramen circling
us.

We stopped in the end zone, like we’d been
instructed, and waited for the other teams to slowly trickle out.
We were the first ones on the field, which would give us a prime
opportunity to gawk at the other teams as they arrived. Nearby,
cameramen tested their equipment while others filmed us for intro
shots. In the distance, the host sat in a director's chair getting
his makeup touched up.

I already wanted to collapse from nerves. Who
knew that a game would be so stressful?

Brodie nudged my arm again. "Look. Here comes
the first team."

I couldn't help but look, since Brodie was
trying to drive his elbow into my upper arm. We'd marathon-watched
the two previous seasons of
The World Races
to try and
figure out the kinds of people they were going to cast as our
opponents. Like casting had mentioned, they definitely had a type
of character they liked to cast: newlyweds, guy best friends, girl
best friends (which they wanted to hook up with the guy best
friends, naturally), a dating couple, siblings, a child-parent
relationship, a gay couple, a D-list celebrity couple of some kind,
and then a ‘comic relief’ couple. Sometimes the comic relief was a
pair of rednecks. Sometimes they were nerds. They always did
terrible in the challenges, since they weren’t picked for
athleticism.

Sometimes the team dynamics overlapped. The
comic relief could be siblings, and then that would leave room for
another couple or another celebrity or something. I was told from a
gushy assistant that the producers liked to mix things up a little,
but they stuck to stereotypes overall. We were creating a 'story,'
she reminded me.

Like I was going to be able to forget?
Characters. Story. Everyone in casting mentioned it every five
minutes.

"Girl besties," Brodie murmured at my side.
"Or lesbians. They look pretty strong."

"Way to be a creep, Brodie. Now
you
sound like casting." But I admit, I tried to figure out their
stereotype, too. They
did
look strong. I didn't recognize
them, which meant they weren't the celebrities, so they had to be
the female best friends team. One wore a shirt that said 'Summer'
and the other said 'Polly.'

They stood at a marked spot a fair distance
from us, and the next team came out.

"Here’s someone else. They're obviously
mother and son," Brodie told me, nudging me and staring at a couple
walking in behind the two female athletes. 'Wendi' and 'Rick' were
easy to pick out, I decided. Wendi had gray hair and a matronly
figure, and Rick, well, Rick was a skinny kid with long hair in his
face, big glasses, and skinny jeans. The entire effect was supposed
to make him look trendy, but it just made him look incredibly
awkward instead.

More teams flooded out of the entrance, pair
by pair. We saw Hal and Stefan, dressed in flaming pink shirts,
holding hands as they walked in. Cute. I liked them already. Then
there was a pair of blondes with enormous hair and loud voices that
talked with their hands - Steffi and Cristi. Myrna and Fred were
the elderly couple, though they looked pretty fit despite the white
hair. There were a pair of alpha males named Joel and Derron that
went into a military stance as soon as they arrived, which made
Brodie frown. My brother didn't like competition, and that pair
looked like they'd be tough to beat.

I was relieved to see a man and a woman with
matching mullets, cowboy boots, tight wranglers, and kerry green
team shirts. Kissy and Rusty. Thank god. The comic relief wasn't
us.

"Hey, isn't that Dean Woodall?" Brodie leaned
in to my ear. "The Olympian?"

I perked up. I’d seen him on TV before. "You
think so?"

"Yeah. Not happy about that. They sure did
cast a lot of athletic people this year."

"I think he's retired," I told Brodie. I
remembered him from
Endurance Island
last year. I'd been
addicted to the TV, fascinated by the romance that played out
between him and a fellow contestant. Sure enough, Abby was at
Dean's side, dressed in a purple shirt to match his. Her curly hair
was pulled into a loose ponytail on top of her head and when they
came into line, Dean's arm went around her waist. Double cute. They
were clearly the newlyweds
and
the celebrities.

Or so I thought.

"Holy shit."

I tore my gaze away from Dean and Abby to
glance at my brother, Brodie. "What now?"

"The celebrities," Brodie breathed, staring
down the field. "Holy shit, they got
Finding Threnody
."

"Huh?" The name sounded vaguely familiar, but
I was more of a country girl. I was short and couldn't see around
Brodie, since he'd moved and was now standing directly in front of
me and blocking my view. "Who's
Finding Threnody
? It's a
band?"

"They're huge," he told me. "Don't you know
the song 'Dark Stars?'
'
Worm in the Apple?'"

Um, okay. "Doesn't sound like my kind of
thing. I don’t like rock." When he paced in front of me again, I
pinched his arm. "Stand still, damn it. You're not a freaking
window."

Brodie sighed and moved back a step, giving
me my view. Of course, it wasn't an unobstructed view, because the
camera crew was hovering around them as they sauntered down the
field, toward the starting line. It was clear that they were
designated to be stars of the show. That was fine with me. I
studied them. Both were wearing black as their team color, and the
woman had hair that was dyed black with bright red ends. Her nose
was pierced and she had small tattoos along her neck and sleeving
her arms. The man had lip piercings, eyebrow piercings, and his
arms were just as heavily tatted as hers. The man frowned at the
group, while the woman gave us all an arch smile.

Their t-shirts read LIAM and TESLA.

Of course. Total rock star names. I could
feel myself giving a mental eye roll as the woman sauntered up to
the starting line and stuck her hip out, revealing jeans covered in
chains and zippers. Naturally. "I can tell you right now I'll be
glad when they're gone," I told Brodie. I'd taken an instant
dislike to the two rockers. Maybe it was their attitudes, or the
way the cameras crawled all around them, but they didn't seem to
have the fun sort of spirit that the others brought. Hell, even
Dean and Abby - who I'd thought were the celebrities this round -
had seemed genuinely excited to be here.

Those two? Just acted a bit like they were
slumming it to be around the rest of us. Which got on my nerves.
Contrary to what everyone thinks about country girls, I'm not the
most friendly and open type. I may have my hair in pigtails and
wear jean shorts, but that's as far as the stereotype goes. You've
got to prove yourself to me before I like you. And right now? Liam
and Tesla were on my 'do not like' list until proven otherwise.

I glanced around, but no one else was coming
out of the stadium. I quietly counted teams as the cameras did
another pan of us lined up on the starting line, scoping each other
out. Ten teams. Ten men, ten women. I wouldn't be the fastest
woman, I guessed, judging by the competition, but I wouldn't be the
slowest, either, so that was fine with me. And Brodie was fit. Our
odds were decent.

"
Makeup
! It's hot as piss out here and
my forehead is shining. Where's the goddamn makeup artist?"

All eyes immediately turned in the direction
of the angry voice. My jaw dropped a little as I saw Chip Brubaker,
the normally smiling host of this show and
Endurance Island
.
As I watched him stalk down the field, he grabbed a powder puff out
of a woman's hand and dabbed at his forehead. “When I say makeup,
you come running. Understand?” he yelled again.

I leaned in and told Brodie, "Guess his
smiles are just for the camera.” I saw Abby roll her eyes at the
host's antics.

Chip finished patting down his face, examined
it in the mirror held up for him, and then strode past the
scurrying assistants. Someone pointed for him to stand on an X
marked on the grass, and he did. As soon as he stepped there, it
was like a light switch was flipped. His face lit up in a friendly
smile and he grinned at us as if we were his new best friends.
Cameramen immediately circled, filming.

"Welcome to
The World Races
! I'm your
host, Chip Brubaker, and you're about to undertake an incredible
journey around the globe." He spread his arms in a magnificent
gesture. "You'll travel to exotic locations and foreign countries,
competing against each other for a quarter of a million dollar
prize."

We cheered and clapped appropriately at that.
Brodie was getting excited. He bounced on his feet in place, which
was just making me anxious. I clutched the straps of my heavy
backpack and concentrated on Chip as he rattled off the rules of
the game. Blah blah find a clue, perform a challenge to win a
World Games
disk. Each teammate had to compete to win an
individual disk and then there was a team disk. Once you had all
three disks, you could advance to the finish line for that round.
It was the same as it was every year.

"This time on
The World Races
," Chip
said, and then gave an ominous pause. "We're switching the rules up
on you a bit. The team that conquers the first country on our map?
Wins an Ace in the Hole." He held up a big, obviously fake looking
Ace of Spades that was larger than a sheet of paper. "This ace will
allow that team to save one other team at any point in the
game."

"Why would we want to do that?" I hissed at
Brodie under my breath. "I thought the object was to get rid of
everyone else?"

He shrugged and gave me a 'shut up' look.

"You can use this ace to your advantage and
save a team you're allied with," Chip said. "Or not. The choice is
yours. There will only be two aces in the entire game."

The cameras suddenly swiveled again,
startling me. All but one began to film our reactions as Chip
raised his hand in the air.

"Are you ready to begin
The World
Races
?" Chip bellowed. "At the far end of this stadium, you'll
find that the opposite end zone is covered with hundreds of
footballs. Ten of these footballs are numbered, and the number you
get pertains to your airline seat. Only teams one, two and three
will be on the first flight out. Good luck! May the best team
win!"

Nervous butterflies began to sprout in my
stomach.

Chip lowered his arm. "GO!"

We ran.

~~ * * * ~~

 

Brodie was the first one at the massive field
of footballs, and I wanted to cheer my brother on. I stumbled
early, twisting my ankle, and yelped in surprise. I recovered
quickly and limped over to the footballs, the last one to arrive.
Ignoring the cameras that hovered like vultures, I stared at the
others as they pushed forward. People were tossing their packs
aside and grabbing footballs like they were covered in gold.

Okay, clearly
I'd missed out on the memo that told us we had to act like insane
people.

I picked my way forward and kicked aside a
football, looking for a number.

BOOK: Playing Games
6.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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