My Gay Roommate

Chapter 29 - Hey, I'm On T.V!

Chapter 29 - Hey, I'm On T.V!

I couldn’t believe how tongue-tied and nervous I was. It was hard to walk, like my legs would give away any moment now. My throat was bone dry, and butterflies were doing dips and three sixties in my stomach. My palms became clammy and I tried not think much about the fact that: I was in a T.V studio.

It hadn’t really sunk in when I’d first arrived, but now, thrill and fear rushed through me.

Dan and I continued to follow the odd man in the black suit, stumbling forward to catch up with him. Damn, he and his long legs sure could walk fast!

Dan seemed to be in a stink mood, his shoulder heavily slumped.

I considered asking if he was nervous, but decided I was too mad at him to do so. Who did he think he was, calling me stupid for no apparent reason? What exactly had I done to show that I was stupid?

We headed down a very long hallway and just at the end of the hallway, there was a long curtain. I saw Miranda and Conner just in front of it, chatting quietly.  Seeing Miranda set me off, my fear being replaced with anger.

She saw us, scowled deeply and looked away.

Conner exhaled, pacing back and forth. “Thank you, John, for bringing them. The interview is just about to start, so quickly Dan, tell me what you’re going to say.”

“I didn’t know I had rehearsed lines,” Dan said flatly.

“You don’t,” Conner said uncertainly. “But you do know what you’re going to say, right? Anything that convinces people that you’re not married to Miranda.”

Dan shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, yeah, I know.  But what happens if they start shit talking me?”

“They won’t do that,” Miranda interrupted in a strained voice. “I’ll be the one they’ll shit talk. I’m the one who lied, after all.”

Conner sighed. “Now Miranda, I don’t want you to start yelling, okay? Be calm about it. Remember, Angelina and I will be back stage.”

Her face darkened. “I don’t care,” she snapped. “I don’t care about you, or stupid Angelina, or about anything else! I just want to get this God damn interview over with!”

Before anyone could respond, I heard a loud voice boom: “And now we have our special guest, Miranda Dalton!”

Conner’s expression grew anxious and Miranda swallowed. “Be calm,” he whispered as she nodded and disappeared behind the curtains. A heartbeat later, the room exploded into ear-splitting applauds and I covered my ears, annoyed.

“Miranda!” the interviewee exclaimed, and carefully, I peered behind the curtain.

Miranda was seated in one of the two loveseats, across from the interviewee who had glowing, beautiful chestnut brown skin and curly black hair. My heart nearly failed on me when I saw millions and gazillions of people sitting just before them, cheering and clapping away.