The Desirables

One

"We're really looking forward to having you on the show Juno. We think you'll be very popular. Just remember though that whilst your welfare is incredibly important to us, our main aim is to create some cracking TV. We don't get killer ratings without killer drama if you know what I mean, so don't be shy. Forget the cameras are there and do everything you wouldn't want you parents to see." Travis Taylor leant back in his chair, which groaned in protest under his weight. Despite wearing aviators, I could still feel his beady eyes staring back at me from behind their tinted shields. 

The harsh lighting in the interview room did this man no favours. The Portuguese sun had burnt his nose and the peeling skin was flaking away. Beads of sweat slithered down his neck and soaked into the collar of his white shirt, which was barely staying done up. I clocked the gold wedding ring on his finger, the skin bulging out from underneath. Someone had willingly committed to this man. What a life sentence.

"As producer, I will be on set pretty much all the time so if you need anything, come to me." He smirked, leant forward and moved his sunglasses down so that they sat on the bridge of his nose. The man didn't seem to blink, yet another one of his unnerving qualities.

"Are the others already settling in?" I asked, attempting to change the subject. 

"Oh yes. You're the final one to arrive. Let's say we like to save the best for last." He was enjoying every second of making me feel uncomfortable, and despite my best efforts I think I was doing a pretty crap job of hiding it. 

"When can I go and meet them?" 

Travis glanced at the watch on his wrist. "Probably now. They should have enough footage of them all prancing around by now. It's time for some fresh meat." 

He looked me up and down as he had been doing for the last hour that I'd been sat here waiting to be called for my entrance walk, but this time he licked his lips. I went to open my mouth to speak but nothing came out. I needn't have bothered though, he quickly filled the silence.

"When I say fresh meat, I mean you doll."

"I guessed," I said, squirming slightly in my seat.

"If I weren't already hitched, I'd definitely be showing you the wallpaper in my trailer."

I looked at him in disgust. I knew exactly what he meant by that the dirty bastard. 

"Who am I kidding. I'd show you my wallpaper in a heartbeat, wife or no wife. Nothing's ever stopped me before."

"But I hate interior design. And judging by the tragic shirt you're wearing, I'm sure the wallpaper would be exactly the same." 

His face turned a bright shade of red and he quickly looked down at the Hawaiian shirt that was barely holding together. I could practically hear the buttons screaming in agony as they tried to hold the fabric in place. 

"One thing you need to remember when you're busy sunning yourself in there young lady, is not to piss off the one guy who can make or break you. If I don't like you baby I can make the whole world not like you. It's as simple as that."

"Is that a threat Travis?"

"I think it might be, yeah." He glanced at his phone as the screen lit up. "They're ready for you, doll."

"Great," I said as I got up from the chair. "I look forward to seeing your other shirts soon."

"You only get one shot at walking in so make it count Juno. That is unless I like your arse, in which case I let you walk multiple times." 

"You know what Travis, I think you might be the reason God created the middle finger." And with that I held my middle finger up to his face as I walked out of his office, through the automated doors and out into the Portuguese sunshine.