Looking straight into a camera, she spews the date. “Saturday, May twenty-third, six p.m. Pacific Standard Time. Check your local listings and be sure to tune into Celebrity-TV for the special edition of America’s It Girl.”
Flashing a big smile and her ring, she sounds like a walking commercial for our wedding. I want to vomit.
Another female reporter runs up to us. “Bratrina, so glad to have you here. Tell me, Brandon, with your recent accident, did you ever think you’d not see this night?”
“Well—”
Katrina cuts me off. “We always knew this moment would come. I prayed for it every minute while I sat by his bedside in the hospital.”
The reporter’s face turns to mush. “That’s so beautiful I could cry. Oh, and congratulations on your engagement. The best of luck to the both of you.”
We’re stopped yet another time. The bubbly Asian reporter shoves a mike into my face. “Congratulations on your nomination, Brandon. Do you think you’re going to win tonight?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I’m wearing my father’s lucky cufflinks. So there’s a chance.”
Katrina: “Darling, of course you’re going to win.”
“Is there anyone at home you want to say hello to?” the reporter asks.
Katrina grabs the mike. “Hi, Mommy.” She waves. “And Daddy, if you’re watching this from prison, just know I love you.”
I have to say I’m a little touched. The reporter takes the mike and angles it back at me. “And what about you, Brandon?”
Just one person. “Yo, Zoey.” I blow her a kiss. I hope she’s watching and catches it wherever she is.
Katrina shoots me a dirty look. Make that a look that can kill.
Is everyone and their mother nominated for an award? The Emmy’s, now that I remember, are bad enough, but the Golden Globes go on ad nauseam because they cover both motion pictures and television. Oh, and now they even give awards to online shows produced by Amazon and Netflix among others.
The only thing that makes these awards bearable is that you get to eat and drink during the show. Unlike the Emmy’s where you’re trapped for hours in a stadium-sized auditorium downtown, at the Globes, you’re served a full-course gourmet dinner in the expansive but more intimate Beverly Hilton ballroom. The place looks spectacular with dazzling arrangements of flowers on every table and is overflowing with Hollywood glitterati dressed to the hilt. If I had to guess, there must be over two thousand attendees and that’s not counting the press.
Everyone looks like they’re having a blast. A chumminess saturates the room—reminiscent of a camp reunion. Hugs and kisses abound. As we make our way to our table, I’m both astounded and humbled by the number of people who stop to congratulate me and express their relief that I’m okay. Wow! Even De Niro and Scorsese give me man hugs and Glenn Close gives me a big kiss on the cheek. But most I don’t recognize on account of my amnesia. Especially those nominated for all these cable series and movies I can’t recall. Zoey’s briefing only went so far. Sometimes I feel like I’ll never catch up.
Our table consists of the Conquest Broadcasting nominees. In addition to me, there are several other stars, directors, and producers nominated, including Kurt Kussler director, Niall Davies. Also at our table is CBC production chief, Blake Burns and his lovely wife Jennifer, the head of MY-SIN TV, the women’s erotica channel that’s part of Conquest Broadcasting. We chat and I learn that several of her series are up for awards.
“When you have the time, you really must do one of our telenovelas,” she tells me over the salad course. “We’re putting Shards of Glass, another one of Arianne Richmonde’s erotic romances into development, and you’d be perfect to play the lead, Daniel Glass. Women love you. Oh, and by the way, I love Kurt Kussler. I so hope you win tonight.”
“Thanks,” I reply. “I’d love to be considered for the role if my production schedule allows.” So far, except for a short hiatus over the summer, the chances aren’t good.
She takes a sip of her champagne. “Oh, and I suppose I should congratulate you on your engagement. I’m glad it’s working out between you and Kat. More than you’ll ever know.”
Just like Blake, she calls my fiancée Kat. She’s a little bit more supportive of our nuptials though hardly what I’d call enthusiastic. There’s something unspoken. Do I really know the whole story? Maybe there’s more to learn, but tonight’s not the night.
Katrina is seated on the other side of me. After a very cold but cordial hello to both Jennifer and Blake, she’s been on good behavior. Thank God. Most of the time, to be honest, she’s been working the room, hobnobbing with every A-list celebrity, talking to reporters, and posing for photographers. And when she’s not up and about, she’s been tweeting non-stop, snapping photos, and taking selfies with her iPhone.
Comediennes Tina Fey and Amy Poehler are co-hosting this year’s awards, and they’ve had the audience roaring with laughter. Though they’re not on my memory radar, they’re two funny chicks. While their opening jibe about Bratrina becoming a popular baby name and their ensuing Kurt Kussler “Get it. Got it? Good.” spoof had me flushing with embarrassment, the audience was in stitches as was Katrina. The presenters, however, haven’t been as entertaining, and now they’re going through a phase of documentary film awards that I could care less about. Naturally, they leave all the big awards like mine to the end so viewers will stay tuned. I’m getting restless, plus Katrina is bugging me to take selfies with her that she can post on Instagram. No thank you. During a commercial break, I take a run to the little boys’ room.
There are a couple of men taking leaks in the bathroom, none of whom I recognize. I find an empty stall and sit down on the toilet seat. I don’t really need to take a dump. I just need a quiet place where no one will fawn all over me. I mean, it’s nice to feel the love, but it can get to be too much. And besides, there’s only one person I want to talk to. I pull out my phone from my trouser pocket and text Zoey.
Are u watching?
I hit send and wait impatiently for a reply. Finally.
Yes. I saw u on the red carpet.
:) Are u alone?
For some reason, I’m sorry I asked that question after I hit send. My pulse accelerates waiting for her reply.
No.
My stomach twists.
Who are u with?
It’d better be a girlfriend. Or her mother.
Someone really cute.
My blood runs cold. It’s her fucking boyfriend.
We’re cuddling in bed.
My blood sizzles.
WHO?
Teddy.
Jesus. A new boyfriend?
Teddy who?
Bear. LOL! We’re sharing a quart of Häagen-Dazs.
Relieved, I smile.
What flavor?
Coffee chip.
My fave. :)
I know. I stole it from your freezer.
I laugh.
U better replace it.
I will.
What do u think of the show?
Boooring! But Tina and Amy are funny.
Agree. What’s going on now?
They’re giving the Best Actress in a TV Drama award.
Who won?
Julianna Margulies for The Good Wife.
Oh.