He grabbed the towel she handed him to wipe the sweat from his face. “Are we doing this here? Now?”
“Why not? The gym is your natural habitat.”
“Fuck off.” He grinned.
She laughed. “No, but seriously. You’re more comfortable here, so I thought, why not? We want this to be as authentic—as you—as possible.”
He blushed, self-conscious. “Look, whatever, I’m only doing this to prove that I can, and that they will pick me.”
“Sure thing, hot shot.”
“I’m serious. We send in the audition tape, I get the call, and that’s the end of that.”
“Whatever you say, Obi.”
Esther went to get her camera. Though he tried his best, Obiora couldn’t pretend that the wild racing of his heart was solely as a result of the exercise he’d just completed.
Fuck.
THREE
EJIRO SAT IN ONE CORNER of the sitting room, holding a red party cup half-filled with plain Sprite, grimacing and bobbing his head awkwardly to the music. Ajiri was—of course—currently on top of the table in the middle of the room, winding her waist and soaking up the hoots and hollers from her girlfriend and the rest of their friends.
His contract forbade him from telling anyone about his involvement with Cupid Calling until after the show had finished airing—which, wasn’t that a bit strict?—but of course Ajiri had managed to concoct some mildly believable reason to gather all their friends and throw him a going-away party. What had she said again? He was going on a romantic retreat? Top secret host and location, of course. It was close enough to the truth that he was sure when he eventually revealed it, it wouldn’t feel like too much of a betrayal to the rest of their friends.
God, he hated parties. Even though it was just his, Ajiri’s and Blessing’s closest friends—there were about twenty people, at most—he just didn’t know how to mingle in this kind of setting. But he knew Ajiri would be upset if he wasn’t enjoying himself, so he stood and walked around from the sitting room to the kitchen, smiling and occasionally swaying to the music, and managed a quick chat with whoever was free. The best part of the night would come later, anyway, when the music and energy had died down and they started gossiping about nonsensical things or playing childish games like truth or dare until the sun rose, then after that they’d probably all go out to get some McDonalds. He loved that bit of house parties, which should say a lot about him.
When he was sure he had sufficiently socialised enough, he snuck off to his bedroom without anyone being the wiser, closing and locking the door behind him.
His lips twitched into a nervous smile and his heart began to race in the same vein when he switched on his laptop. He’d succeeded in uploading a new part for his comic earlier, both on Tapas and Patreon, and the best part of his day was coming back hours later to read the comments.
There were twenty-two comments on the latest update on Patreon; his patrons gushed about the update and wished him well on his “vacation”, some even going so far as to tell him to “actually REST, Ejiro, and put the damn drawing utensils down”. Grinning, his heart so freaking big, he read through and replied to them all, promising them that he would indeed take a break. He didn’t think he was allowed any electronic devices during the filming anyway.
When he switched over to Tapas, he was met with the same level of excitement for the latest update, and more well wishes for his “vacation”. There were about five hundred comments on the web comic site, but he took his time to read every single one, and replied to the ones he could. Some readers left more well wishes on his message board, and he took his time liking and replying to those as well.
When he was done, he felt a little raw. Every time he got sick or something else in his life happened that prevented him from updating, he’d always feel incredibly guilty, but his readers were always so, so understanding, which only made him want to work even harder so he deserved their trust and support.
He’d wanted to put his Patreon on hold—which would stop them from being charged monthly—for the duration of his filming with Cupid Calling—or for his “vacation”, as he’d told them—but his patrons had adamantly refused. In the end, the general consensus was that they’d rather put their own patronage on pause if they couldn’t afford it, and then continue their patronage when he returned. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve them.
The nerves Ejiro had been trying to put at bay rapidly returned. In about three days, he was leaving for Oxford to begin the filming for Cupid Calling. Even though he’d spent an entire day in the first week of June—approximately three weeks ago, now—doing a photoshoot, handing them his blood and urine samples to test for STDs, having yet another audition in front of like forty people—producers included—signing the confidentiality agreement, and then two weeks later getting a second call to confirm he’d been selected, it still didn’t feel real.
He was going to be on an actual dating show established by the legendary Ameri Shae, director of almost all his favourite films and TV series. He kept refusing to think about it because the thought filled him with a strange, almost suffocating anxiety. He was an introvert, through and through; how could he have let Ajiri and Blessing talk him into this? It felt like he’d gone through the whole in-person interview in a mild state of dissociation.
Ejiro’s phone began to ring.
Immediately, he knew who it was and his stomach sank. He had to take a deep calming breath before answering the phone.
“Hello? Mummy, mingwo.”
“Ehen, vredo. Ejiro. How are you?”
“I’m fine, mummy,” he said, forcing himself to smile so she’d hear it in his voice.
“That’s good, that’s good. How’s everything? I just spoke with your Uncle Reuben so I know things at work are okay.”
“Yes, they’re fine, everything’s fine.”
“I’m just calling to talk about this your retreat. You said you are leaving in a few days, correct? Are you all packed?”
