Author Games: On Air

The Meeting

The room is silent, its inhabitants are motionless and the air is starting to feel thick and unbreathable. Everything from the picked-at takeaway still lingering on the table to the exhausted minds of the four producers is going stale. Daylight has been and gone and the night is starting to really dig its heels in, a few stars peeking through the orange fog of light pollution. Outside the city buzzes along, full of life and music and people generally having a good time, but none of this does anything to cheer up the four people slumped around the table. This meeting has been going on for four hours. Their mill of ideas is at an all-time stagnant low and time is running out.

Executive producer Alithia sits with her head in hands, staring down into a cup of tea. She has been sat in that position for so long that the beverage has been drained of any heat and sits stone cold beneath her. Elpis has slim fingers poised and ready to type over a laptop keyboard but no ideas arrive to fill the void of the blank computer screen in front of him. Instead he sits in the bizarre contradiction of appearing both constantly on the brink of action and painfully still. Pandora has given up on the meeting entirely and has taken to tracing the path of distant traffic through the window overlooking the city with an expression that says she'd rather be far, far away. The only movement in the room comes from Kalea constantly crossing one thumb over the other of her clasped hands, decorated with a collection of rings that jingle along with the motion. Nobody even has the heart to snap at her.

"It is a disaster." This is the most Alithia has been able to say since learning that their biggest celebrity - and any hope of drawing in viewing figures to save the show from cancellation - has refused participation. Now they are short of options. Year after year, series after series, has left the pool of possible housemates drained of everything but the dregs. She tucks a few loose strands of straight black hair behind her ears and returns to glaring at the cup of tea as if it has in some way personally offended her.

"We know," Elpis sighs. He's finding it hard to contain the bitter mix of frustration, disappointment and boredom swirling amongst his thoughts. Being reminded of the dire situation only sets off another flare of thinly veiled exasperation and he slams a pale fist onto the table and rubs at his eyes. More coffee is needed.

Kalea follows the distance between her two colleagues back and forth with her eyes. The tension is beginning to wear down the cords of Alithia's eternal patience and Elpis' calm manner. Soon one of them will break, and the anticipation of the breaking point is putting her on edge. She gives them both a glossy, lipsticked smile.

"Instead of dwelling on who we don't have - why don't we concentrate on who we do have," she chirps. The others stare at her; she flushes and turns her attention back to her fingernails. Alternating yellow and pink; very fashionable, not that her fellow producers would know about that.

"Yes, because that is so much more encouraging," Alithia says, sarcasm dripping from her tongue. "We have a pitiful selection of deadbeat has-beens and Z-listers with illusions of grandeur. They would arguably be more at home in a zoo." She pushes forward the sheet of paper with the list of possible names. If the dead-weight of her tone doesn't indicate the miserable reality of the situation, giving the list a quick once over certainly does. The room falls into silence again as Kalea examines the list, searching painfully for some kind of beacon of hope.

"I've never even heard of her."

From her corner of the room Pandora finally stirs. She takes her eyes away from the window, fixes the sleeves of her dress and finally acknowledges her colleagues with a look that warns them she is about to speak. Alithia gives a sweeping gesture that nearly knocks over her stale tea: the floor is yours, Pandora. And for God's sake let this be a good idea or we'll all be sacked in the morning.

"Maybe that isn't such a bad thing."

"Exactly! A bit of positive thinking!" Kalea nearly leaps up from her chair at the prospect of someone willing to take on her view of things, even if that person is the notoriously tricky Pandora.

"Don't get me wrong - this list is shockingly bad." Once Pandora is certain Kalea's hope has been sufficiently deflated she presses on. "But why not embrace that? Car-crash TV. If the IQ of the general public is sinking, lowering our standards could be exactly what this channel needs."

Elpis leans forward, frowns, speaks. "We don't need the good celebrities. Just a collection of the most obnoxious, desperate and deluded ones. The ones you can laugh at. Which is what we have..." He trails off and glances back down to the list of names. What was before a death sentence has become a potential gold mine of classic TV moments. His mind throws up women in offices, sandwiched in identical cubicles, shrieking over what you-know-who said to so-and-so last night. Teenagers sharing clips on their phones. Gaining hits. Spin-off shows. It has worked before.

"Stick them under the same roof, turn the cameras on and you have something so disastrous that people can't help but watch."

During this speech Alithia lifts her gaze up from her hands and looks to the rest of her colleagues. The struggle for originality has worn away their integrity - and broken the coffee machine - but integrity is weak currency nowadays. And the coffee machine can be replaced. Maybe by one of those ones advertised by the very A-lister who has just turned them down. Poetic justice.

"Other people's idiocy is always so fascinating, don't you think?" Pandora asks, a slow and not entirely unsadistic smile creeping across her face.

The room judders back to life, the meeting resurrected and the hopes of the producers along with it. The uselessness of the concoction of 'celebrities' will be shared and common knowledge. To use Pandora's phrase: car-crash TV. It will be deliberately awful, and therefore compulsive viewing fit for the whole nation. The critics will hate it, but the critics hate everything that doesn't come with a cutesy indie soundtrack and a pretty girl in a beanie hat and this show has never been one for the critics anyway. It will be a total, deliberate, compelling disaster.

The only people lacking that vital information will be the housemates themselves...