Page 69 of Unscripted

“I told you we’d work,” he said, keeping his voice low even though no one could have guessed what he really meant. To anyone else, to the production crew listening in or the other cast members, he could have simply been talking about our relationship.

I let his words settle around us. The moment of calm felt oddly fragile, and I didn’t want to ruin it by saying the wrong thing.

So, we stood there, simply looking at each other.

The weight of worry that had been resting on my shoulders since I’d entered the villa had been lifted, and in the agreeable space we had slipped into with each other, it was nice just to be. Not to stress over what we were doing or how we were going to do it.

The only thing we had to focus on now was maintaining the charade.

In the quiet of the bathroom, looking across at Callum’s unguarded face and relaxed stance, I thought that might not be so hard after all.

30

As the third week of Bella Amour slipped by, Callum and I rolled along with it, settling into our newly formed truce.

We were by no means on the fast track to becoming best friends but, still, the ice had most definitely thawed, and I could feel our previous tension gradually dissipating. I was also thrilled to find that whatever brain blip had thrown me off during the live show—spiraling about Callum’s warmth, I mean, come on—had disappeared as well. That line of thought was ridiculous, and I was happy to chalk it up to a stress-induced, one-time glitch.

Callum and I needed to focus on the task at hand—selling our “slow burn” love story to the viewing public at home. In an effort to do so, we developed a routine to be followed each day.

In the mornings he would make me a coffee—iced with cream and two sugars. “Exactly how I like it!” I would exclaim, my body positioned in direct line of a camera, making sure the entire world knew Callum was nailing the whole “devoted match” thing.

In the afternoons we would go for a swim, floating side by side on the large, heart-shaped pool floaties that production had brought in when it became clear that most of the cast preferred to be in the pool for hours at a time. We’d make sure our floaties were always touching, creating the vision of a couple who couldn’t bear to be apart.

And when the sun set and the cocktail party kicked off, we would separate from the group, claim one of the empty daybeds, and “go for a chat.” I found it surprisingly easy to talk to Callum, the flow of conversation meandering across an array of subjects. I learned that he went to Trinity College, played rugby on the weekends, and was seriously afraid of spiders. I told him about New York and my old jobs. We never went very deep, never got into how or why we each ended up in the villa. The reasons we both needed to be here remained a mystery to each other, but that was fine by me.

It was enough simply to get along.

***

Two new Showstoppers, Mike and Lola, entered the villa midweek, surprising us all during our morning debriefs. Mike was nice enough, but I made a concerted effort to avoid doing anything that could be construed as flirting. In the end, my efforts didn’t even matter as he hit it off with Jess right away. I was thrilled for her; after a journey full of “friendship matches,” she had finally found someone she really liked.

Lola, unfortunately, didn’t click with any of the guys and was sent home after only being in the villa for two days.

***

The end of the week brought with it a heat wave.

The garden was steaming, the sun beating down mercilessly. I had been hoping production would let us stay inside during the afternoons for safety reasons, but they insisted we proceed with filming as normal. Clearly, the Brits didn’t believe in heatstroke.

“You’ll be fine,” Harry tutted at me as I took cover in the sweet relief of the air-conditioned Love Shack. I protested, telling him that I’d give a full blown tell all of Callum’s and my kiss the week before if I could just stay in the confessional a bit longer. Harry merely leveled me with a stare and said, “We can talk about how you haven’t kissed since.”

It was enough to have me scrambling up and out of the room, Harry laughing at me as I went.

Perfectly curated daily routine be damned, I thought. It was clearly not helping our case if, despite the expertly made coffees and strategically placed pool floaties, Harry was mentioning our lack of affection. We might have been spending more time together, but on this show, if there wasn’t a physical progression to go along with the emotional one, it wouldn’t matter. I should have known this would happen. As a viewer, the steamy bits were the ones I longed for as well. It was something I’d have to talk to Callum about.

That can be a tomorrow problem, I told myself as I walked back outside and into the oppressive heat. I could leave it for a day when it didn’t feel like my skin was going to melt off under the cruel sun.

***

But the heat didn’t let up the next day, and the whole cast, not just myself, quickly grew cranky and lazy, not wanting to do anything but take cover in the kitchen, munch on popsicles, and talk about all the ways in which it was simply too hot outside.

Production must have finally realized it made for rather boring television.

“All Bellas report to your dressing rooms,” a voice sounded out across the garden speakers.

This was a development. Something new was happening, and it jolted the villa with a much-needed burst of energy. Despite the heat, we all buzzily made our way inside and to our respective rooms, chatting away about what we could be doing.

A clothing rack with five red one-piece bathing suits was set up in the middle of the glam room. The suits were identical, all high cut and extra cheeky, with “Lifeguard" written across the chest. It was like they had gotten them directly from the set of Baywatch.