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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Teens
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Love / Romance / Dating
- Published: 10/08/2013
“You’ll be summoned in five minutes,”
This had been said by one of the many producers that I had been speaking to all morning. She had stuck her head inside the small waiting room that I was sitting inside, and she revealed this message to me, then she closed the door and vanished somewhere down the hall.
That producer was a short, young woman of twenty with shoulder length, starch blonde hair that hung stiff from her scalp. She was wearing a black skirt that stretched to her knees and a long sleeve, light red shirt that had buttons lining the center of her shirt. I think she had introduced herself to me as Tiffany or Stacey, but I wasn’t sure since I had encountered so many producers this morning that I was beginning to lose track.
I nervously twisted around in my chair, spinning the bracelet that I had on my wrist around in tiny circles. It was a habit I had created for myself, only performed whenever I was anxiously awaiting something. I tried to take my mind off the waiting, by studying the inside of the waiting room. It was a small room, the size of a walk in closet, that was painted a nature green color. The room had two small chairs inside of it, there was one that I was occupying, and it was sitting along side an identical one.
When I had first arrived at the studio with my boyfriend, the staff and producers spoke to me for a moment, and then separated me from my boyfriend, leading him one way and then bringing me to this small waiting room. I had learned that I wasn’t allowed outside of the room because on several occasions when I had opened the door to set foot outside of the room, a producer would quickly approach me and scold me for walking outside the room. I was to tell them what I needed, at one time it had been a glass of water, and then immediately head back into the room.
The only contact I had with them was when they opened the door to the room for a few seconds to give me a time frame of how long it would be until I was called out on stage. I had probably been sitting inside the room for a good forty-five minutes.
I shook my head, trying to figure out what secret it could be that my boyfriend of five years, Alexander, could want to reveal to me today. It had been only a month ago when he had told me that he had a secret that he had been keeping from me. Upon hearing this, I had been devastated, since I was under the impression that we had a pretty open and honest relationship. Alexander then told me that the only way he would reveal it to me was if I came on the Jerry Springer Show so that he could tell me the secret to a nation wide audience as a way to shame himself.
At first I protested, not feeling the slightest bit comfortable about having our business upon display for the entire world to see, but Alexander had firmly stated that he would not tell me the secret unless I came on the show with him. After nearly a week of thinking about it, I finally agreed and he called the show, scheduling us an appearance on it. I couldn’t believe how quickly the show had responded and confirmed our appearance.
The next thing I knew, we were on a plane to Stanford, Connecticut, and now, here I was, sitting in seclusion, waiting for the producers to summon me onto the stage. I leaned back in my chair, lightly bumping my head against the nature green wall. I was racking every memory in my mind, trying to figure out what Alexander’s secret could be.
Alexander and I had been friends since we were about eight years old, but we didn’t really start dating each other until high school. We were so close with one another that just the revelation that he had a secret that he was keeping from me was a shock. I couldn’t even comprehend it, since we were pretty open and honest with one another. I had evaluated every possible aspect that could be the subject of his secret, though none stood out in my mind.
I had been racking my mind for weeks trying to figure out what it could be, only to reach the uncertainty that was associated with the fear of the unknown. I loved him so much and was hoping that whatever his secret was, that it wouldn’t tear us apart from one another.
I was ripped from my thoughts when the door to the waiting room swung open and the starch blonde producer stuck her head in the through the ajar door. I was half expecting her to reveal another time frame for my appearance on stage, but instead, she swung the door wide open and I noticed she had microphone equipment in her ear and a clip board in her hands.
“Alright, they’re ready for you,”
I rose from my chair, surprised that the sweat from my body was actually strong enough to make my loose, blue, knee length dress stick to my body. I felt as though I had taken a dip in a swimming pool, however the perspiration my body was producing wasn’t visible upon the glance of anyone who looked at me.
I walked toward the door, where the producer was standing, and she pointed down a long corridor. I suddenly began to hear the cheering of a live studio audience a short distance away.
“Just follow the hallway straight, and make a right through the door,” said the producer.
“Um, okay.”
I moved slowly down the hallway, trying to prepare myself for what would be at the other end. The hallway that I was walking through was extremely long, with adjacent halls lining the sides leading off into other areas of the studio. The building was about a block long and the size of a maze. Even the ceiling was inclined higher than most roof tops were that were designed for buildings.
It was a one story building, however the roof was a staggering twenty feet from the surface of the floor. I felt like a small ant as I traveled down the hallway making my way past a few other producers who were standing in nearby hallways, preparing to guide me to the stage, if I wandered off the path.
As I neared the entrance I could hear a crowd of people, clapping, preparing to welcome me onto the stage. I moved nimbly through the hallway, trying not to stumble or appear awkward, since I was aware that I was going to be on national television. I literally felt my heart begin to shake, as though it were preparing me for something drastic, when I turned the corner, spotting the wide door that would lead me onto the stage.
I walked a tad bit quicker, and then courageously emerged through the door onto the stage. The first thing I saw was a large crowd of one hundred and fifty something people sitting in comfortable chairs staring at me. The second they caught sight of me the large studio audience began to applaud me, perhaps to create the impression that they were welcoming me to the show or that they thought I was brave to broadcast my problems on national television, but in reality, I knew that the real reason that they were clapping was to thank me for entertaining them with my drama.
I caught a glimpse of my boyfriend sitting in a chair in the center of the stage. I was surprised that he didn’t look at me when I stepped onto the stage, though I dismissed the suspicious gesture and took a seat in second chair that was stationed directly beside his own. As I sat down, I reached over giving him a quick peck on the lips, to show the audience that we were deeply in love with one another. I was relieved that he engaged in the kiss with me, but he still felt distance when I kissed him. This earned us an, “Aww”, from the audience who reminded me of those sitcom shows, where the people reacted to every little thing that the “cast” did by verbally expressing their feelings in tones that viewers could understand.
The cushioned chair was comfortable, yet I couldn’t help fidgeting in my seat. The second I was seated the clapping quickly subsided. I glanced around the stage and it was then when I spotted Jerry Springer standing a few feet away from us. I watched a few episodes of his show, but I wouldn’t call myself a fan of it.
Jerry Springer was a man who was in his sixties, though he probably exercised a lot and ate healthy, because he appeared to be in his mid-forties. He had sandy blonde hair that was brushed backwards on his head in a manner that made it appear as though it were some sort of hat for his head. A large portion of Jerry’s forehead was visible, due to baldness, a process of aging that one couldn’t avoid. He had a light, peach complexion with his skin appearing elastic, though not to the point where it appeared loose on his body.
The television host stood tall, dressed in a black suit with a tie, a uniform that he had imprinted for himself in the minds of the viewers, over the two decades that he had done his show. In one hand he held a large, black microphone, and in the other a few, light green cards that had his name printed on opposite side of them that was visible to the audience.
"Hi Ashley,” said Jerry, while taking a few steps closer. “How are you?”
“Hi Jerry, um I'm…,” I glanced over at Alexander, who refused to look at me, then I averted my attention to Jerry as I spoke. “Pretty, good.”
I could feel the gaze of the entire audience upon me. It was strange to have that many people looking at you at one time, especially when you didn’t take into consideration that there would be millions of more who tuned into the show once it aired on television. I tried very hard to ignore the audience’s presence, reminding myself that I wasn’t here for them, but instead my boyfriend, though I couldn’t help feel as though there was a sense of superiority from the audience.
It was as though they were sitting there, amused that they knew some secret that I was oblivious to. It was almost as though they were all thinking about how superior they were to me and were anticipating some memorable reaction from me. It was a nerve racking feeling the sense as though you were being judged by a large group of people.
“So you haven’t heard anything, you’ve been outside the studio, back stage,” said Jerry Springer.
“Right,”
I kept my eyes on Jerry Springer, trying to ignore the crowd watching us. He took a few steps closer to me, appearing to be speaking more into his microphone than he was to me. He stood a little closer to me, allowing me to make out his facial features a little bit more distinctly. The skin on his face was drooping a little, creating a little roof of his own flesh over the area where his mustache was suppose to go. I could see his bluish, greenish eyes, which gave this impression that he was this caring man who had experienced a great deal of drama throughout his life time.
“Do you know why you’re here?” asked Jerry.
“The only thing I know is that Alexander has a secret that he’s been keeping from me, but I don’t know what the secret is.”
“Oh, okay. So you don’t know anything?”
“I’m hoping to find out what the secret is.”
“So how is your relationship with your boyfriend?” asked Jerry.
“Um,” I glanced over at Alexander. “It’s good, we’ve been dating for about five years.”
“Has it been a good five years?” asked Jerry.
“Yeah, I mean, we have a few arguments every now and then, but most couples argue. I mean, I love him and I really want to marry him.”
“Oh, what do you argue about?”
“Like, one time he was complaining about me not cooking him a decent meal, but I-“
“What did you cook him?” asked Jerry.
“Salad, carrots, and mash potatoes,” I smiled, causing the audience to quietly chuckle. “I want us to eat healthy Jerry, so we can be happy and old together.”
“Sounds to me,” joked Jerry. “That you’re making him healthy, but miserable.”
The audience quietly laughed at this, while Jerry sported a grin that indicated that he was simply teasing me. I was aware that he often brought guests onto his show and made fun of them. Sometimes it was light hearted humor and other times it was humor that was designed to offend or mock the person being the subject of it. However, I simply felt as though he was joking with me, not meaning any harm in his joke. I smiled, which seemed to be the only thing that I could do at that moment.
“Alright,” said Jerry, quieting the audience. “You seem like a nice girl. Alexander, turn to her and tell her why you brought her here today.”
The audience suddenly became quiet, awaiting the moment that they had been anticipating. Alexander turned in his chair so that he was facing me. He was a man in his earlier twenties, with jet black hair draped over his head. He was tall, having a box shape face that gave him this manly appearance.
Alexander took my hands in his, keeping his eyes tightly locked on mine. I searched his face for some sign of what he could possibly be keeping from me. I knew Alexander well, in his eyes I could just see that there was something eating him up inside. It was so quiet that you could actually hear a few members of the audience quietly breathing. Jerry Springer stood a few feet away from us, averting his attention from us to his feet every now and then as though he were trying to give us some privacy, however this was a pointless gesture, since we were in front of a hundred something people.
“You know that I love you, right?” said Alexander.
Upon hearing this I could feel my heart grow anxious with anticipation. Those words were the only spoken when your partner was going to reveal something terrible to you. They stated those words, “You know that I love you, right”, as some sort of mechanism to help you brace yourself for it what it was that they were about to say. Those words were designed to remind that no matter what they reveal to you, it was important that you know their feelings for you because once they reveal the truth to you, it won’t seem like they care about you once you know what they’ve done.
“Yeah,” I said in a small voice that was barely audible.
“Well, a few weeks ago, I accidentally slept with your best friend, Nancy.”
Jerry!! Jerry!! Jerry!!(Daisy)
“You’ll be summoned in five minutes,”
This had been said by one of the many producers that I had been speaking to all morning. She had stuck her head inside the small waiting room that I was sitting inside, and she revealed this message to me, then she closed the door and vanished somewhere down the hall.
That producer was a short, young woman of twenty with shoulder length, starch blonde hair that hung stiff from her scalp. She was wearing a black skirt that stretched to her knees and a long sleeve, light red shirt that had buttons lining the center of her shirt. I think she had introduced herself to me as Tiffany or Stacey, but I wasn’t sure since I had encountered so many producers this morning that I was beginning to lose track.
I nervously twisted around in my chair, spinning the bracelet that I had on my wrist around in tiny circles. It was a habit I had created for myself, only performed whenever I was anxiously awaiting something. I tried to take my mind off the waiting, by studying the inside of the waiting room. It was a small room, the size of a walk in closet, that was painted a nature green color. The room had two small chairs inside of it, there was one that I was occupying, and it was sitting along side an identical one.
When I had first arrived at the studio with my boyfriend, the staff and producers spoke to me for a moment, and then separated me from my boyfriend, leading him one way and then bringing me to this small waiting room. I had learned that I wasn’t allowed outside of the room because on several occasions when I had opened the door to set foot outside of the room, a producer would quickly approach me and scold me for walking outside the room. I was to tell them what I needed, at one time it had been a glass of water, and then immediately head back into the room.
The only contact I had with them was when they opened the door to the room for a few seconds to give me a time frame of how long it would be until I was called out on stage. I had probably been sitting inside the room for a good forty-five minutes.
I shook my head, trying to figure out what secret it could be that my boyfriend of five years, Alexander, could want to reveal to me today. It had been only a month ago when he had told me that he had a secret that he had been keeping from me. Upon hearing this, I had been devastated, since I was under the impression that we had a pretty open and honest relationship. Alexander then told me that the only way he would reveal it to me was if I came on the Jerry Springer Show so that he could tell me the secret to a nation wide audience as a way to shame himself.
At first I protested, not feeling the slightest bit comfortable about having our business upon display for the entire world to see, but Alexander had firmly stated that he would not tell me the secret unless I came on the show with him. After nearly a week of thinking about it, I finally agreed and he called the show, scheduling us an appearance on it. I couldn’t believe how quickly the show had responded and confirmed our appearance.
The next thing I knew, we were on a plane to Stanford, Connecticut, and now, here I was, sitting in seclusion, waiting for the producers to summon me onto the stage. I leaned back in my chair, lightly bumping my head against the nature green wall. I was racking every memory in my mind, trying to figure out what Alexander’s secret could be.
Alexander and I had been friends since we were about eight years old, but we didn’t really start dating each other until high school. We were so close with one another that just the revelation that he had a secret that he was keeping from me was a shock. I couldn’t even comprehend it, since we were pretty open and honest with one another. I had evaluated every possible aspect that could be the subject of his secret, though none stood out in my mind.
I had been racking my mind for weeks trying to figure out what it could be, only to reach the uncertainty that was associated with the fear of the unknown. I loved him so much and was hoping that whatever his secret was, that it wouldn’t tear us apart from one another.
I was ripped from my thoughts when the door to the waiting room swung open and the starch blonde producer stuck her head in the through the ajar door. I was half expecting her to reveal another time frame for my appearance on stage, but instead, she swung the door wide open and I noticed she had microphone equipment in her ear and a clip board in her hands.
“Alright, they’re ready for you,”
I rose from my chair, surprised that the sweat from my body was actually strong enough to make my loose, blue, knee length dress stick to my body. I felt as though I had taken a dip in a swimming pool, however the perspiration my body was producing wasn’t visible upon the glance of anyone who looked at me.
I walked toward the door, where the producer was standing, and she pointed down a long corridor. I suddenly began to hear the cheering of a live studio audience a short distance away.
“Just follow the hallway straight, and make a right through the door,” said the producer.
“Um, okay.”
I moved slowly down the hallway, trying to prepare myself for what would be at the other end. The hallway that I was walking through was extremely long, with adjacent halls lining the sides leading off into other areas of the studio. The building was about a block long and the size of a maze. Even the ceiling was inclined higher than most roof tops were that were designed for buildings.
It was a one story building, however the roof was a staggering twenty feet from the surface of the floor. I felt like a small ant as I traveled down the hallway making my way past a few other producers who were standing in nearby hallways, preparing to guide me to the stage, if I wandered off the path.
As I neared the entrance I could hear a crowd of people, clapping, preparing to welcome me onto the stage. I moved nimbly through the hallway, trying not to stumble or appear awkward, since I was aware that I was going to be on national television. I literally felt my heart begin to shake, as though it were preparing me for something drastic, when I turned the corner, spotting the wide door that would lead me onto the stage.
I walked a tad bit quicker, and then courageously emerged through the door onto the stage. The first thing I saw was a large crowd of one hundred and fifty something people sitting in comfortable chairs staring at me. The second they caught sight of me the large studio audience began to applaud me, perhaps to create the impression that they were welcoming me to the show or that they thought I was brave to broadcast my problems on national television, but in reality, I knew that the real reason that they were clapping was to thank me for entertaining them with my drama.
I caught a glimpse of my boyfriend sitting in a chair in the center of the stage. I was surprised that he didn’t look at me when I stepped onto the stage, though I dismissed the suspicious gesture and took a seat in second chair that was stationed directly beside his own. As I sat down, I reached over giving him a quick peck on the lips, to show the audience that we were deeply in love with one another. I was relieved that he engaged in the kiss with me, but he still felt distance when I kissed him. This earned us an, “Aww”, from the audience who reminded me of those sitcom shows, where the people reacted to every little thing that the “cast” did by verbally expressing their feelings in tones that viewers could understand.
The cushioned chair was comfortable, yet I couldn’t help fidgeting in my seat. The second I was seated the clapping quickly subsided. I glanced around the stage and it was then when I spotted Jerry Springer standing a few feet away from us. I watched a few episodes of his show, but I wouldn’t call myself a fan of it.
Jerry Springer was a man who was in his sixties, though he probably exercised a lot and ate healthy, because he appeared to be in his mid-forties. He had sandy blonde hair that was brushed backwards on his head in a manner that made it appear as though it were some sort of hat for his head. A large portion of Jerry’s forehead was visible, due to baldness, a process of aging that one couldn’t avoid. He had a light, peach complexion with his skin appearing elastic, though not to the point where it appeared loose on his body.
The television host stood tall, dressed in a black suit with a tie, a uniform that he had imprinted for himself in the minds of the viewers, over the two decades that he had done his show. In one hand he held a large, black microphone, and in the other a few, light green cards that had his name printed on opposite side of them that was visible to the audience.
"Hi Ashley,” said Jerry, while taking a few steps closer. “How are you?”
“Hi Jerry, um I'm…,” I glanced over at Alexander, who refused to look at me, then I averted my attention to Jerry as I spoke. “Pretty, good.”
I could feel the gaze of the entire audience upon me. It was strange to have that many people looking at you at one time, especially when you didn’t take into consideration that there would be millions of more who tuned into the show once it aired on television. I tried very hard to ignore the audience’s presence, reminding myself that I wasn’t here for them, but instead my boyfriend, though I couldn’t help feel as though there was a sense of superiority from the audience.
It was as though they were sitting there, amused that they knew some secret that I was oblivious to. It was almost as though they were all thinking about how superior they were to me and were anticipating some memorable reaction from me. It was a nerve racking feeling the sense as though you were being judged by a large group of people.
“So you haven’t heard anything, you’ve been outside the studio, back stage,” said Jerry Springer.
“Right,”
I kept my eyes on Jerry Springer, trying to ignore the crowd watching us. He took a few steps closer to me, appearing to be speaking more into his microphone than he was to me. He stood a little closer to me, allowing me to make out his facial features a little bit more distinctly. The skin on his face was drooping a little, creating a little roof of his own flesh over the area where his mustache was suppose to go. I could see his bluish, greenish eyes, which gave this impression that he was this caring man who had experienced a great deal of drama throughout his life time.
“Do you know why you’re here?” asked Jerry.
“The only thing I know is that Alexander has a secret that he’s been keeping from me, but I don’t know what the secret is.”
“Oh, okay. So you don’t know anything?”
“I’m hoping to find out what the secret is.”
“So how is your relationship with your boyfriend?” asked Jerry.
“Um,” I glanced over at Alexander. “It’s good, we’ve been dating for about five years.”
“Has it been a good five years?” asked Jerry.
“Yeah, I mean, we have a few arguments every now and then, but most couples argue. I mean, I love him and I really want to marry him.”
“Oh, what do you argue about?”
“Like, one time he was complaining about me not cooking him a decent meal, but I-“
“What did you cook him?” asked Jerry.
“Salad, carrots, and mash potatoes,” I smiled, causing the audience to quietly chuckle. “I want us to eat healthy Jerry, so we can be happy and old together.”
“Sounds to me,” joked Jerry. “That you’re making him healthy, but miserable.”
The audience quietly laughed at this, while Jerry sported a grin that indicated that he was simply teasing me. I was aware that he often brought guests onto his show and made fun of them. Sometimes it was light hearted humor and other times it was humor that was designed to offend or mock the person being the subject of it. However, I simply felt as though he was joking with me, not meaning any harm in his joke. I smiled, which seemed to be the only thing that I could do at that moment.
“Alright,” said Jerry, quieting the audience. “You seem like a nice girl. Alexander, turn to her and tell her why you brought her here today.”
The audience suddenly became quiet, awaiting the moment that they had been anticipating. Alexander turned in his chair so that he was facing me. He was a man in his earlier twenties, with jet black hair draped over his head. He was tall, having a box shape face that gave him this manly appearance.
Alexander took my hands in his, keeping his eyes tightly locked on mine. I searched his face for some sign of what he could possibly be keeping from me. I knew Alexander well, in his eyes I could just see that there was something eating him up inside. It was so quiet that you could actually hear a few members of the audience quietly breathing. Jerry Springer stood a few feet away from us, averting his attention from us to his feet every now and then as though he were trying to give us some privacy, however this was a pointless gesture, since we were in front of a hundred something people.
“You know that I love you, right?” said Alexander.
Upon hearing this I could feel my heart grow anxious with anticipation. Those words were the only spoken when your partner was going to reveal something terrible to you. They stated those words, “You know that I love you, right”, as some sort of mechanism to help you brace yourself for it what it was that they were about to say. Those words were designed to remind that no matter what they reveal to you, it was important that you know their feelings for you because once they reveal the truth to you, it won’t seem like they care about you once you know what they’ve done.
“Yeah,” I said in a small voice that was barely audible.
“Well, a few weeks ago, I accidentally slept with your best friend, Nancy.”
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