The Next Big Thing

  The funny thing is, I’d lose the game even though I’d managed to shed over forty pounds. And Regan, who had lost the most weight of any of us (nearly ninety pounds!), was in dead last. Eating snacks in the Tomb of Temptation had taken her bank balance all the way down to zero.

  I was coming to realize From Fat to Fabulous had little to do with weight loss.

  ***

  We were going out with a bang, in a special live finale. According to Zaidee, the introduction of Nick, Briana, and Matt had provided a “tremendous boost in the Nielsen’s.”

  I was dying to know what the ratings were, but would have to wait until I got out of the house. I counted down to the live finale with trepidation. I couldn’t forget how things had gone during the last live episode.

  “Never thought I’d say this, but I’m going to miss this place,” Janelle said on the final day, as we packed our suitcases in preparation for the grand exit from the house.

  Despite having moved in with Matt, Janelle still had two drawers full of clothes in my room. Janelle glanced around at the bare walls and blinked. She had a hint of tears in her eyes.

  “What are your plans?” I asked, thinking that I wouldn’t miss this house at all.

  “I’ll probably visit my parents in New York and then go back to the gallery. What about you?”

  “I’m going to Denver for a few days. My parents arranged it last time we spoke on the phone,” I said. They were finally convinced that I did not want them dead, which was a relief. “After that . . . who knows?”

  “Thirty minutes till show time,” my nighttime cameraman, Tate, informed us. It was only the third time I’d ever heard him speak.

  “It’s been nice knowing you, Tate.” I halfway expected a response, but he remained stiff, pretending as though I hadn’t said a word.

  “You think you’ll keep in touch with Jagger?” Janelle asked.

  “That would be nice, but I highly doubt it.” Jagger was no longer friendly towards me.

  She cocked her head to the side.

  “You guys got kind of close toward the end.”

  Until I went and blew everything by kissing him while I was wasted.

  “We’ll see what happens,” I said vaguely.

  “I’m going to get changed,” Janelle said, picking up a pair of pants and darting into the bathroom. “Back in a sec.”

  My eyes wandered around the room, taking in everything for the last time, committing it to memory. It seemed unfathomable that I’d no longer be sleeping here, or eating breakfast downstairs, or talking with Janelle every day. She’d meant the world to me, and who knew if I’d ever see her again? Even if I did, it wouldn’t be the same.

  I was overwhelmed with uncertainty and apprehension. There was no telling what was waiting for me on the outside. Zaidee had mentioned that we would be required to give a series of exit interviews (satellite TV and radio) as soon as the show ended.

  Beyond that, it all became fuzzy. Somehow, I would have to slip back into normal life. Only I’d be going back to Memphis without Nick, and without a best friend. My dreams of stardom and a writing career hadn’t panned out. I was still battling the bulge. I had shed weight, and was now a size fourteen. Hardly skinny, but I was proud of myself.

  When all was said and done, I was happy I’d taken the risk of coming on the show. My falling-out with Donna, my failed relationship with Nick—they were bound to happen one day. Maybe From Fat to Fabulous hadn’t really changed my life, just sped it up.

  “You ready?” Janelle sang out. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” she enthused, emerging from the bathroom. She was decked out in a stunning red top and flared blue jeans, capped off with a gorgeous pair of black high-heeled boots. Her long dark hair had been pulled into a classy ponytail at the back of her neck, and she’d applied a fresh dusting of makeup.

  “You look fabulous,” I told her, and I meant it.

  She smiled and curtseyed. “But the question remains, have I gone from fat to fabulous?”

  I slung one arm around her, and grabbed my duffel bag in the other.

  “Absolutely,” I said. “No contest.”

  “Keep it clean tonight!” the floor director announced as we took our seats. “We’re on a five-second delay, but watch your language!”

  I looked around the room, memorizing everything: the blinding overhead lights, the enormous cameras on dollies, the frantic motion of stagehands and producers and sound techs. The glamour of it all had escaped me until now.

  “Stand by,” the floor director called. “We’re coming in live in five . . . four . . .” I listened to him count down and my eyes went misty.

  This was it. After tonight I would fade into obscurity, my life no longer in the limelight.

  “Well, America, it’s been one long and wild ride,” Jagger began, walking along in front of us, hitting his marks. He looked amazing in a pair of faded jeans and a light-gray button-down shirt. “Our contestants have been through fifteen weeks of hell, tinged with drama, heartache, and triumph. Now it’s time to find out just who has gone FROM FAT TO FABULOUS!”

  The scene was surreal. I watched Jagger recap the last few days’ events, and then segue into the “ultimate revelation: which girl has conquered her battle of the bulge to become America’s most FABULOUS NEW REALITY ICON?”

  There were two surprises that came out during the finale. The first was when Jagger announced the order in which we’d placed. As I (and probably everyone watching) predicted, Janelle took home the whole pot. She’d lost weight fourteen out of the fifteen weeks we were on the show, and succeeded in every single challenge (except the one Nick and I took home). But I came in second, Luisa third, Maggie fourth, and then Regan was next. Alyssa was dead last!

  “What happened, Alyssa?” Jagger asked. “It looked like you were primed to win the whole thing. How’d you wind up losing?”

  “Well, Jagger, when Nick came into the house, my priorities changed,” she said. “I realized there were more important things in life than money and weight loss.”

  “Yes, but you frequently commented in your diary sessions that your motto is ‘you can never be too rich or too thin,’” he countered. “Has that changed?”

  “It hasn’t,” she said smugly. “But I knew I had no shot at winning. Let’s face it—Janelle was an Amazon warrior when it came to diet, exercise, and challenges. I couldn’t beat her. So I decided to let go and have a little fun.”

  “And how, exactly, did you let go?” he asked. “I spent my Fat2Fab Bank buying treats from the TOT. Bottles of wine, imported chocolates—romantic things Nick and I could enjoy together,” she explained.

  “Will the two of you be staying together?” Jagger asked, addressing the question to Nick.

  “Alyssa means the world to me,” Nick gushed. “When I started this I never guessed I would meet such a beautiful, amazing lover.”

  “Kill me now,” I muttered, turning my head away from my lapel mic.

  “What about Kat?” Jagger asked, causing me to jump at the sound of my name. He briefly made eye contact with me, then looked away. “You came into the house to meet her. What went wrong there?”

  I inched down lower into my seat, willing myself to disappear.

  “Kat and I were online lovers,” Nick said, and I winced at the term. “As I’ve found out, those sorts of things don’t translate well into actual relationships. If time permits, I would like to be her friend.”

  If time permits? What the hell was that supposed to mean? I shot him a poisonous glare.

  Mercifully, Jagger changed the subject, opting instead to grill Regan and Briana about what it was like sharing a tiny bed for nearly two months.

  “It’s impossible to get a good night’s sleep when you’re bunking with a human whale,” Briana complained, and I gasped. Poor Regan looked near tears.

  “I tried to stay on my side of the bed, but it was a really little bed!” she wailed.

&nb
sp; Fortunately, Jagger changed the subject. “Now, I’m sure all of America is dying to know how you girls have changed over the last three months. Regan, I’ll start with you. Briefly, summarize your before and after stats and what you’ve learned from your time on the show.”

  “I started out weighing around 340, and now I weigh 250! I’ve learned to be tough and to fight for what I believe in. So my body’s thinner, but my skin’s thicker,” she announced proudly.

  This was a thicker skin? I couldn’t imagine how sensitive Regan must have been before.

  “I’ve found love,” Alyssa said, squeezing Nick’s hand. “And I’ve perfected my body. I’ve gained and lost weight all my life. This time I’m thin for good. I know how to put myself out there and be in the limelight, and how to play up my best features. I know how to get attention when I need it. How to be a star, that’s what I’ve learned.”

  “And your stats?” Jagger prompted.

  “Oh yeah. I’ve gone from 176 to 133.”

  Jagger zeroed in on Luisa, who said, “I was 213 before, now I’m 197. Not so bad. But not so good either.” She shrugged. “What do I care? I’m a great woman; any man would be lucky to have me.”

  Maggie was less enthusiastic. “This show made me fat. It should be called From Fabulous to Fat!” she groused. “I was in the low 200s when I came in here; now I weigh almost 230! You guys ought to be sued for false advertising.”

  Janelle was a bit more diplomatic. “Some of us have changed, some of us haven’t. I’ve dropped around sixty pounds.. But inside is where the biggest changes have taken place. I see things differently now.”

  Jagger nodded and then turned toward me. “Kat, I’ve saved the best for last.”

  I blushed, wondering if it was just another line or if he meant it. “What have you learned from your stint on From Fat to Fabulous ?”

  “What have I learned?” I repeated. It was a deceptively complex question. “I’ve always thought I was a bad candidate for weight loss. But, as you can see, I’ve shed over forty pounds, so that can’t be true. You know, I used to look at skinny people and wonder why they ever had problems. I thought being thin equaled being happy. I’ve learned that my life isn’t going to magically become perfect one day, and no matter how much weight I lose there are certain things I’ll never have control over. Once I accepted that, losing weight wasn’t so daunting. I don’t worry so much anymore about whether I’m fat or thin, because in the end it doesn’t matter. I’ve stopped judging myself so harshly. ”

  My eyes focused on Jagger intently, willing him to give me some sort of a sign that he would miss me, that we had been friends.

  He remained detached and focused, dramatically presenting Janelle with her check—which was the second shocking event of the night. Over the course of the show, Janelle had wracked up $220,000 in her Bank. But the producers, “out of the kindness of their hearts,” as Jagger put it, had cut her a check for $250,000. “Because you worked so hard we thought we’d round that figure up,” he explained, handing her an enormous check.

  “Does anybody have any final thoughts?” Jagger asked, opening up the floor.

  “Watch for me, America!” Alyssa said. “I’m going to be huge.”

  “So long,” Maggie said, “and hello to everyone in Jackson, especially my wonderful son, Owen.”

  Seizing the moment, I quickly threw in, “If you need a PR firm, call Hood and Geddlefinger.”

  A few people snickered and Jagger quickly cut me off. “Thank you, America,” he said. “And until next time, I’m Jagger signing off for From Fat to Fabulous.”

  And just like that it was over.

  “All clear,” I heard the set director call.

  Zaidee came strolling into the living room, sporting one of her glamorous designer pantsuits and waving her hands around animatedly. It was a strange moment, because it took me back to the grand entrance she’d made at the casting weekend so many months ago.

  “Dolls!” she shrieked. “You have all been killer tonight, simply killer! I can’t thank you enough for your hard work these past few months. We did it! You guys are fucking awesome! We’ve got a wrap party going next door, so feel free to head over and enjoy the eats. I’ll catch you all later. It’s been real.”

  And with that she was gone, breezing out the door as quickly as she came.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The night of the finale I was far too dazed to make any rational decisions. I just bopped from one interview to another, fielding a series of inane and often invasive questions.

  What’s your favorite McDonald’s meal?

  “Chicken McNuggets.”

  What size bra do you wear?

  “Why? Are you planning on buying me lingerie?”

  What’s your favorite reality TV show?

  “If I said From Fat to Fabulous, would you call me a narcissist?”

  How did it feel to lose the $250,000?

  “I’m really, really happy for Janelle.”

  How do you feel about Nick and Alyssa?

  “How do you THINK I feel?”

  Are you dating anyone right now?

  “I just reentered civilization. I haven’t had time to meet anybody yet.”

  (Mercifully, no one on the outside seemed to know anything about my pseudo-kiss with Jagger. It must have been edited out.)

  When the interviews wrapped, I’d said tearful good-byes to Janelle, Luisa, and Regan. We exchanged phone numbers, e-mail addresses, and promises to see each other.

  “I love Tennessee,” Luisa had said. “I go to Nashville all the time for business. We should meet up.”

  Janelle was headed to New York for a few days to visit her mother, and Regan was staying out in California to “look for acting work.” Maggie had skipped out on half the exit interviews, citing “extreme fatigue,” and Alyssa and Nick were making the rounds together. As a couple.

  “We’re the hottest thing going right now,” Alyssa taunted. Nick trotted along to all the interviews, hanging all over Alyssa, throwing me the occasional wayward glance.

  ***

  When the media circus ended, I was numb and disoriented. I boarded the flight to Denver in a mild daze, blissfully unconcerned with the fact that nearly everyone on board—from the fellow passengers to the flight attendants—knew me by name. I knew it was fleeting.

  Soon I would fade back into obscurity, slipping quietly into the Reality TV Has-Been Hall of Shame.

  Staying with my parents served as a decompression chamber of sorts. After four months of being monitored round-the-clock by a fleet of cameramen, my mother’s prying eyes seemed like a natural fit.

  I spent most of my first four days of freedom lounging around my parents’ house in my pajamas, surfing the Internet, and watching TV. I craved CNN Headline News the way I used to crave potato chips. So much had happened in the outside world while I was away and I was hungry to catch up.

  After four months living under constant duress, it was surreal to sleep and eat whenever I wanted; to talk on the phone; to take a bath without listening to the overhead whir of a CCTV camera.

  At the end of my first week out, I got two follow-up calls from the staff of From Fat to Fabulous. The first was a nasal-voiced production assistant who fired off a barrage of questions.

  “This is a courtesy call,” she began.

  I nearly hung up, assuming it was a telemarketer.

  “I wanted to follow up and see how you’re adjusting?”

  “Oh—fine, fine. I’m getting into the swing of things.”

  “Sleeping well? Eating? Are you having any physical or psychological problems?”

  I got the feeling that she was going down a checklist.

  “Other than the fact that all of America thinks I’m a brat? I’m fine.”

  She didn’t acknowledge my joke. “The show keeps a psychologist on retainer if you feel the need to talk. But please be advised these services will only be made available through December of this year,” she said, seemi
ngly eager to end our conversation. “After that, you’re on your own.”

  I concluded it was less of a courtesy call, and more of a let’s-cover-our-butts-in-case-of-a-lawsuit call.

  The second “follow-up call” was infinitely better. I was just getting out of the shower one night when my mom pounded on the bathroom door.

  “Here,” she said, thrusting the cordless phone at me. “Some man for you.” She stood there expectantly, waiting to listen to my end of the conversation.

  “Mom, how about a little privacy?” I teased. “Seeing how I’ve barely had any over the last couple of months, it might be nice for a change.”

  She was visibly irritated, but she granted my request. “Don’t know what you have to say to some man that you can’t say in front of me,” she snipped.

  “Hello?” I said, padding down the hall to the guest bedroom. In all honesty, I had no idea who to expect. My list of male friends was virtually nonexistent, and I knew hell would freeze over before Nick would contact me again.

  “Kat?” a familiar voice asked. It took me a second to place it.

  “Jagger?” I replied. I was stunned—and incredibly pleased.

  “I got your number from Zaidee. Is this a good time to talk?”

  “Yeah, you have perfect timing.” I wrapped the towel tighter around my body. “Five minutes earlier and you would have caught me in the shower.”

  He laughed. “I’ll have to remember to call earlier next time.”

  I blushed. “What’s up?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  “Not much. I was working on my novel when I thought I’d take a break and call you.”

  His novel. I couldn’t help picturing him, all rugged and poetic, filling up page after page with his prose.

  “Wanna read me a passage?” I asked.

  “Let me polish it up a little. I think it’s better if you read it all at once.”

  I climbed into my pajamas and discarded the towel in the hamper. “I’d love to. Any idea when you’ll be finished?”