Chapter 5

Chapter 5

BRYNN

"Seeing myself vulnerable is a difficult thing. I don't let people in easily. When I let Mark in, I thought maybe he was someone I could trust with not breaking my heart. It was not all about me wanting a relationship. It's about letting someone in to love me, and it's not easy. Love has never been easy for me." 

The woman sitting in the black velvet chair shrugs in place, trying hard to steel her face from showing the emotions she's feeling. A break or two in her voice escapes as she continues to tell her story.

"I think I never allowed myself to love anyone or anything. From a young age, I didn't have anyone. My parents never came to visit me, so I just put up this wall where you really have to work hard against them to see what it's like on the inside. What I'm like on the inside." She shrugs again. "I don't let anyone get close to me."

"You've said something so profound, Claire." The auditioner continues talking. "Will you say you've never made sense of the grey areas in your life?"

"I think I was okay with black and white because I thought I didn't deserve colour. I was sent for adoption when I was born, and I had spent most of my life in an orphanage. I never saw what colour was like in ordinary things and circumstances. I didn't dare to want it."

"What brings you here, then?" The auditioner asks.

"I believe your life can be colourful if you let yourself go and reach for it. Seeing your life in black and white is nice. It's comfortable. It's something you know." 

She takes a short pause, and there's a silent lull in the conversation. Her voice is soft and full of emotion when she speaks next. 

"But I think it's not wrong to want colour sometimes. Sometimes all you want is a life full of red, pink, yellow, blue and green. And it's completely okay to want that and even reach for it if you're lucky enough." 

She puts both of her hands on her chest to gesture that she's lucky. 

"I have been extremely fortunate in life. I was adopted by my parents when I was sixteen. They brought me to London. They accepted me for who I was. My parents let me have a normal life and pursue a degree in a respected university. I knew so many young women I grew up with who didn't get the same opportunities." The break in her voice is relevant and conspicuous. "I think somewhere deep inside I have the guilt that I have pure dumb luck. . .and somebody I knew who deserved it more than I didn't get the chance to change their life. For the longest time, I felt guilty about the new horizons I was walking under in my dissociative mind. Not everyone gets that opportunity, that voice, that colour in their life. I don't know how to look beyond that."

"First of all, I'm so proud of you, Clare, for being here. You're a strong person. It shows. Whatever has brought you here has led you here because you have a purpose in your life to accomplish." The auditioner smiles at her. "As long as you go on with whatever you have set out to achieve, you're golden."

Clare wipes a lone tear that falls off her eyes.

"I have a strong intuition you'll be a great choice for the Love's The Next Big Thing." The auditioner gets up to pat Clare on the back. "Good luck on your journey to finding love. Truly."

"Thank you." Clare's black-painted fingers are still wiping the tears threatening to break while having her heart-rending tell-all audition. She sniffles as she smiles at the auditioner. "I need that. I need all the luck I can get."

The auditioner nods his head at her. "Off you go then, love."

Clare gets up from the black velvet chair and saunters on her way to the landing.

The auditioner yells at no one in particular. "Next."

I yawn loudly. I don't know how long and much of this I can endure. Why did I sign up to manage the next biggest reality show in Europe? I have never been more bored, but they are our clients, and most of these girls are exhausting me to death. 

I am vulnerable.

I am different.

I am special.

I'm a piece of luxury yellow corn.

I have layers.

Yada. Yada. Yada.

I'm slowly losing my mind.

Maybe I accepted the job for the travelling perks it came with despite it being a pain in the ass to accommodate along with my hectic work schedule.

They call the next girl in to start the audition process again. The woman walks into the room slowly, her steps careful and confident in her sky-high black stilettos. Her back is straight, and she's eyeing everyone in the room as she walks in. She gives a wry smile to the few producers and assistants lined up in the back. Not only does her presence command attention and thus silences the crowd, but she also stares at everyone in the room to assert her dominance. 

She's fearless. And to make the point clear across the room, she comes in with a red martini in her hand. When I look at her, a thought passes through my mind.

She might be entertaining. 

I check out from head to toe. She's a stunner. She's wearing a tight-fitting, deep-cut, red, A-line dress that perfectly hugs her body. Gorgeous golden brown hair falls at the back of her neck, followed by a nice slim body, nice ass and a beautiful face. She puckers her mouth before she takes a sip of her martini and takes a seat on the chair to face the auditioner.

"I'm Nora. It's nice to meet you."

One of my management staff makes his way to where the auditioner is sitting and whispers something in his ear. The auditioner sits up straight in his seat. His face is red and curious lines take shape around his mouth. He fixes his tie. Then he licks his lips as he takes in Nora, adjusting to her seat on the chair in front of him.

I already feel like there might be some entertainment foreshadowing in the background.

"Nora, I heard there was a tiff between you and some other girls backstage."

"Oh no, pardon me. There was no tiff. There is no tiff. There was a general antipathy prevalent in the backstage air towards me."

"What do you mean by that, Nora?"

"The girls do not like me." She fixes her long hair to caress her nice rack. "I didn't do anything but be helpful and inviting. They just don't like me being here. What's a girl to do?"

The auditioner smiles at her coldly. "Why do you think they do not like you, Nora?"

"I'm smarter than they think. I'm not immature." She gulps a good chunk of her drink into her mouth in a quick swig. "Do you think if I weren't smart, then they would have felt threatened by me?"

"How are you sure that these girls feel threatened by you?" The auditioner looks at her with a poker face. "Why do you think that?"

"I think they are insecure." She sashays her head as she speaks. "I'm very misunderstood right now. I'm a good person." A small, sly smile comes over her face. "I'm not just saying that. I mean it." 

"What's the reason you're here, Nora?"

"I'm not here for them, though. I'm here to find my one true love. That's my 'why.'"

That statement earns a great good round of laughter out of me. 

When all eyes follow me from across the room, I shake my head, pivoting on my feet. Resting my hands on my chest, I thin my lips to stop the laughter that wants to come out. I put my palms across my face, snickering. I walk across the stage where they have clothes for women to change in. I can't let them see how much I'm enjoying this. I'm not here for that. I wanted to be delighted the entire day, and this chick is it.

"It's great to hear your motive. Can you share why you're feeling secluded by the others?"

"I'm like a tiramisu." She's downing whatever of the remaining drink rests in her hand. She rubs the long stem of the martini glass with her red painted nails and chuckles. "I come with many layers." She rubs her fingers against themselves right in front of the audition's face. "You got to peel the layers back. You need to get past the heavy whipped cream, powdered sugar, and mascarpone cheese to enjoy that luxurious dark coffee syrup basked in the glow of Savoiardi biscuits." She smiles as she finishes. "You have to dig deep with me."

The auditioner nods his head at her. "I get that somewhat." He thinks for a minute. Then he starts talking again. "Can you tell us why you'll be the best candidate for this reality TV show?"

She moves her head back and forth as if she's concentrating her attention back on the big game. "I'm a delicious, coffee-flavoured Italian dessert. I think whoever signs up for this show needs that dessert." She nods her head in alignment with her words. "They definitely need that dessert."

"I got that they need you." The auditioner smiles at her and licks his lips again. "It was great talking to you, Nora." He nods his head at her. "Good luck on finding love out there."

"Thank you."

"Off you go, love." The auditioner goes on to interview the next girl that's waiting backstage. "Next."

I'm shaking my head, standing in the corner. Then I fish for my phone in my handbag. I find it in an instant. Today is my lucky day. I have never found my phone so quickly in my purse before without looking for it for a couple of minutes straight. 

I unlock the screen and tap on the contacts. I see the unknown number in my recent calls. I tap on it as I walk to a lonely corner, covering the other ear with my free hand. I want to get out of here. Calling Ryker seems like a good idea to achieve that goal. The call rings on the other end. Several rings go by before someone picks up.

"I was just thinking of calling you babe," Ryker says on the other end. His voice has a calming effect on my nerves. I immediately feel better about my day. "I literally just asked Arthur a minute ago to fetch my phone, so I could call you since I was thinking about you."

"Oh, that's great." I run a hand in my hair. "I was thinking about you too."

"That's nice to know." He gives me a hearty chuckle. "I was thinking about you coming over. . ." His breath hitches. "Would you want to come over soon?"

"Yeah," I sigh on the phone. "I do want to come over. It's a long day today. I'm stuck managing the venue and looking over everyone as they host auditions for this reality TV show." I sniffle. "These girls are boring me to death, except the one that came over on the chair crying over her fake past, not more than a few minutes ago." Then I smile. "Well, the one that just left was definitely something."

"What was she like?" he asks, interested.

"Dramatic. Eccentric. But funny." I chuckle, remembering her 'why.' "I don't remember the last time I might have snickered this loudly when they had an event going on." I control my laughter from spilling again. "She was entertaining."

"Is she still there?"

"Why?" I ask, suddenly on my guard.

"You might bring her with you." His voice is husky and low. "I think it'd be a good idea to experiment with her and you." He's testing the waters. "Unless that makes you uncomfortable."

I bite my lip, wondering if I'd be okay with experimenting in the bedroom.

I'm anything but conventional. It shouldn't matter to me. I'm not like in an exclusive relationship with Ryker. If he wants to experiment, why the hell not?

"I don't have anything against it," I say, "I'm not sure if she's still here. I'll go and have a look backstage." I take a moment before putting my thoughts into words. "But do you really want to do this? Like, I have not had a threesome before. I don't know how it works."

"This is exactly the reason why we should do it." He laughs on his side of the static. "You're worried about the rules, honey. You should know that with me, there are no rules."

"No rules at all?" My breath hitches.

"No rules, never." I hear his voice get huskier. It sends a rush of feelings down where I like it. I can feel myself get wet by the sexiness of his voice. "In my bed, there are only the rules I make." He chuckles softly. "I get what I want when I want it."

"And you want that hot airhead right now?"

"And you."

"Then that's what you're gonna get."

"Touché." He pauses. "I will be sending Arthur to pick you up and that girl in a few minutes." There's some shuffling on his side. "Text me the address." I can hear him pacing in his room. "Arthur," he calls on his side of the static.

"I will text you the address as soon as I get off the call." I take a deep breath. "See you."

"See you soon." 

The line gets cut off.