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A fresh blush crept up my neck.
But he’d stepped back. Thank goodness he’d stepped back.
But what was that expression on his face? Was it regret? Disgust at himself and at me for what we’d done? We’d more than crossed a line this time. We’d barreled past all the lines, straight on the way to Dick City. Apparently the principality was growing from small town to urban proportions. Urban proportions…like Tristan’s giant bulge. I could definitely tell it was huge. What would it look like? Would it be as glorious as I imagined? If he was half as good with his dick as he was with his fingers….
No more dick thoughts.
I pulled my hair back into a high ponytail and splashed water on my face.
“Get it together, Montrose,” I said to my reflection, using my best movie coach pep talk voice. “You’re going on television, and you need to focus.”
I patted myself down with some paper towels, fixed my makeup, and headed back upstairs.
Layana’s eyes went wide when she spotted me, and she ran over.
She whispered, “If anyone asks, you were having terrible diarrhea.”
“What?”
One of the production assistants—Pam—came to greet me, her expression grave. “Feeling better?”
“Yep, doing great.” I patted my stomach and smiled.
“Next time you decide to disappear for an extended period, tell production first, not just your friend. Filming live means we have to adhere to a strict schedule. If you’d missed the episode, you’d forfeit and be automatically kicked off.”
Kinda harsh response to stomach troubles.
“Got it,” I said.
She clapped her hands together and pointed at my table. “Get in place.”
I nodded and hurried over. My brain and body felt completely separate. My thoughts were still in the arcade, and I was not even a little bit ready to film.No more thinking about Dick City. Compartmentalize like a boss.
“Let’s go. Time to shoot. Chop chop, people,” Gilbert called out.
Layana was watching me with a questioning expression that begged for me to tell her if I was all right.
I mouthed at her,thank you.
A moment later, the lights kicked up and Waylen walked onto set. His suit of the day was a deep shade of plum that made his usually orange skin appear even more orange, like the gooey Velveeta cheese sauce.
He said, “Today’s challenge is sponsored by Silky Banana.”
That was either a health food bar or a sex shop.
“Yes,”Chester exclaimed his delight behind me. “My favorite’s the peach cream banana squirt.”
So…sex shop or grocery? I still wasn’t sure. There was also no way I was going to ask Chester anything about the words he’d just said. Ever.
“You’ll partner up to create two pieces for a bachelorette party,” Waylen said. “Each contestant gets one basket.”
Production people brought in plastic crates and set them in a line at the far end of the set. I needed fabric, something to sew or glue to create a costume piece. I tried to peer into the baskets from here, but I couldn’t make anything out.
“Go!” Waylen exclaimed.
Everyone ran to the side of the room and shoved each other for their preferred crate. Chester snagged the edible underwear, which might have actually worked for me, given I saw no sign of actual fabric.
There was one crate that caught my eye though—one with plastic sheets of some kind, which could possibly be used as a fabric if done right. I dove at it, snatching it up a split second before Glitter put her hands on it.
