Emily's Musings.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just realized that of all the things I’m nervous about having to kiss you next week in a room full of people when I barely know you takes the cake. I was hoping we could just rip the Band-Aid off so I don’t have to spiral about what that’s going to be like. That way, things can just be smooth when we actually start filming. Is that weird?”

Shit. It’s not fair he gets to look like that and also be totally adorable.

“No, it’s not weird. Believe it or not, I’m nervous too.”

“Really?” He looks both surprised and relieved.

“Yeah, I mean you’re my first fake, on-air boyfriend.”

He motions for us to take a seat on one of Lucy’s worn couches and I reassure him that it’s not usually like this. It’s strange actually, I know that Casey is being paid to be with me but it doesn’t feel like he sees it that way. It might just be me being a bit delusional but it feels like we already have a real connection.

I tell him about how the show started when I was 22 and how it went from being a vehicle to promote myself and my music to my sole career. It’s the first time I’ve actually said a lot of this out loud, not to mention to the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life, but Casey makes it easy. He’s told me about his family and what they mean to him, which makes me open up about my mom’s battle with breast cancer when I was 26 and how suddenly the income from the show meant the difference between her getting the best treatment in the country or what was available in her limited health plan.

It was because of that I had to do whatever it took to stay on the air, even if it went against my core beliefs. I went from this fearless 22-year-old who wanted to show other women confidence comes from within and can happen at any size to an overburdened 26-year-old reality tv star shilling weight loss teas and bending over backwards to accommodate whatever the network wanted.

Two of my best friends that started as cast members don’t talk to me anymore.

They still sing at the church we all met at, but I had to fire them because they became moms who audiences felt had “boring storylines” and “reads as tired all the time” in exchange for Katrein who was also plus size, “dynamic,” and “aspirational”. My family still made a cameo from time to time but they went from being a huge part of the show to an occasional FaceTime in order to pay a revolving door of new friends including hot trainers, singing coaches, life coaches, and whatever trends the network deemed timely.

The whole time I had been assured that the show was still mine.

That I was the star that kept it afloat and everything I did on my Instagram and TikTok helped keep me relevant. At one point I worked with a PR person named Jenna who encouraged me to move to Nashville for the summer and collaborate with up and coming country music artists to help expand my fanbase.

Thinking about it now, it’s hard to believe I’m 34-years-old and just as close to achieving my dream of pop star stardom as I was all those years ago. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks and Casey, who has somehow been absorbing all of this, reaches out and takes my hand in his.

“See, you don’t need to be nervous,” I joke. “You’re a natural at this boyfriend stuff.”

He blushes a little but doesn’t let my hand drop.

“I suppose that’s thanks to Kelly?”

The question is asked tentatively, even though he brought her up when it had been his turn to monologue about the life circumstances that led him to me. I know I’m playing with fire a little bit, because most of what he’s shared is fairly surface. The thing is, I know he’s playing a part but I’m starting to want this to be real, and that’s a very dangerous thought.

My heart doesn’t give a shit though and wants to know if I have a chance. Maybe they’re not as serious as Ben and his bio made it out to be.

“Probably,” he says. “You’d like her. You’re a lot alike in some ways.”

“How so?”

He shrugs.

“Big dreams and not afraid to go after them.”

“So, you’re telling me you have a type,” I say way too flirtatiously than I should. “Glad that your real girlfriend and fake girlfriend are similar in that way. Is she fat too?”

I can tell he’s a nice guy by the way he recoils a bit when I say “fat” as if it’s a dirty word. Ben once explained to me that even though I own it and it doesn’t bother me, it still feels like an insult somehow. I get what he means too, of course I do. I’ve been fat long enough to know what it feels like to have it shouted at you or weaponized against your worth as a person. That’s why I don’t shy away from using it or calling myself fat.

I’m a 2x on a “thin” day and I have been for the past 15 years.

I’m lucky that I carry my weight in a way that society deems as more acceptable than other fat women, but I’m still fat – just with big boobs, a big ass, and a whisper of an hourglass figure.

“No, she’s not,” he finally says.

“Too bad,” I say, adding a playful wink. “You don’t know what you’re missing then.”

“I can already tell that any real boyfriend you have will be lucky to have you.”

I smile through the knife he’s just pushed through my heart and pretend to be unphased as I ask him about all things Kelly. I’m hoping that by doing so it will be less obvious that I have a very real crush on him and perhaps my brain will actually register that this man is totally off limits.

Ben and his bio were correct in assuming their relationship is serious. Casey and Kelly have been an item since college where she majored in art history as he pursued an MBA. I discover that Casey is actually five years younger than me, and Kelly three years younger than him. At twenty-nine, Casey is really ready to start settling down but Kelly isn’t totally ready which is why this whole thing doesn’t bother her.

I guess it’s easy to take a five-month breather from your serious relationship when you feel like you have all the time in the world.

He assures me that they’re still very much together, but for optics and other reasons their families and friends think they’re taking time to really explore who they are as people before they finally make that inevitable leap. She’s not planning on quitting her full-time job, but without Casey consuming all her time on weekends and after school she’s hoping to really see if she can create art and make a living at it.

He shows me that she’s already opened a shop on etsy and has a few prints for sale. I can tell that he’s genuinely proud of her, and I also make a mental note of her shop name so I can later look it up and obsess over the picture she’s uploaded. On his phone it’s too small to really see but I get the gist. Kelly is a blonde woman wearing a big smile and painter’s smock, holding up a painting of hers. I wonder if he’s only into blondes and if I wasn’t fat, if my brown hair and brown eyes would be a deal breaker. I wonder if he only dates women her size or if he’s one of those rare guys that values an emotional connection as much as a physical one.

“Are you worried at all about being apart for so long while we film? And then of course there’s the press obligations and the stuff we have to do for a month after wrap to make sure our relationship looks legit…”

“Maybe a little,” he admits. “But I also believe what’s meant to happen will happen, you know?”

“I do.”

Except what I’m hoping is meant to happen is probably not what he’s hoping. Especially now that we’ve had this conversation that could have been awkward or uncomfortable and instead has me feeling like we’re friends at the bare minimum.

“Should we kick this thing off?” I ask, taking my phone out and flipping the camera into selfie mode.

“Let’s do it,” he says.

I start to hold the phone away from me, but Casey moves closer to the point I can feel his body pressed against my back as takes it out of my hand.

“My arms are longer.”

He speaks right into my ear and his breath tickles my skin to the point I feel as if I’m covered in goosebumps and praying he can’t tell. He drapes his other arm around my shoulder, as if he were claiming me, and snaps a few shots. As if that weren’t enough he nuzzles my neck, still snapping away as I try to keep my face smiling and composed as if this is my real life and not just for show.

God, I wish it wasn’t just for show.

It’s taking all of my self-control not to make this incredibly inappropriate for him. I want to pounce on him, straddle his thick, muscular thighs and rub myself against…

“Can I kiss you Mandy?”

I want to scream, “OF COURSE YOU CAN!” but I just smile and nod. He cradles my face with his free hand, still holding the camera still with his other. I wonder if the selfie taking is making this less real for him, since social media assets were just talked about in our kickoff meeting, or if there’s more going on for him too and the camera gives him an excuse to indulge a little bit.

I don’t care either way but it’s confusing, and his touch doesn’t feel completely platonic or innocent. It feels like he’s reciprocating this blossoming crush, even if I’m not his usual physical type.

His thumb brushes over my bottom lip and I hear the shutter sound from my phone camera before he leans in and kisses me.

It occurs to me that someone has told him that kissing in film and tv is typically chaste and without tongue. I want to murder whoever told him that and wonder if that makes me a bad person. I continue to play with fire a bit as we kiss, parting my lips ever so slightly against his so should he want to slide his tongue into my mouth he’s able to do so.

To both my relief and dismay, he does not oblige.

The shutter continues to snap until he pulls back with a smile, one hand extended to offer me my phone while the other still gently strokes my face.

“Should we do another for good measure or do you feel like you’ve got that down?” I whisper quietly. I don’t know when it happened but my hands have found their way to his chest and it’s fair to say there has never been a man whose physique has made me feel this small in his arms. Not that I have to be small or anything – I just have never experienced anything like this. The worst part is I can’t seem to control myself either, and instead of pulling away I look at him, challenging him to kiss me without a camera.

I hate myself for this too.

This man has a girlfriend and what I’m doing is wrong.

I can’t seem to help myself though – I’ve never felt this kind of pull before. Even with Evan, whom I loved with my whole heart, this type of attraction was missing. I have judged so many people for getting close to doing what I’m tempting Casey to do, and I’m judging myself but something about him has me already losing control.

            He towers over me wearing a gentle and somewhat bashful smile, dark chestnut hair half up in a man bun of sorts while rogue pieces fall out and frame his face, his hazel eyes twinkling and I swear I can hear angels singing. The navy polo he wears hugs his defined, broad chest and looks slightly-too-tight on his well-defined biceps. I want to look lower, God help me I want to, but beyond inferring that he’s probably wearing pants from context clues I manage to keep my gaze locked on his.

            “You must be Mandy Love,” he says extending his hand.

            “Just Mandy. Mandy Thompson,” I correct. “I haven’t used my stage name for a long time.”

“Nice to meet you Mandy Thompson. I’m Casey. Casey McKnight.”

“My boyfriend.”

I immediately regret blurting that out. It was meant to be a joke, something to lighten the mood, except I said it way too serious with a transparent amount of thirst. Mercifully Casey chuckles and goes, “That’s right” before leading me back to the boardroom table Ben and I had been speaking at. Ben’s folder is still out and Casey’s headshot is out as are the other guys’ but he doesn’t seem to mind. I’m so distracted by this man that I barely registered Ben has also reentered the room.

Of course, he has. I’m at work.

“Soon to be fiancé I’m told.”

I realize that I love his voice. It’s deep with an edge of gruffness that doesn’t read as unkind. I can see why the network loves him and when he goes to take a seat I get a glimpse of his lower half that appears to be just as toned if his butt in those jeans are any indication.

I try to steady myself, taking a deep breath as I remind myself that I am a professional and that he has a very real girlfriend despite what impression the viewers may get this season. Simultaneously I’m wondering how many on-air kisses we’ll have and if I’ll be able to keep it together without melting into a puddle when we do.

Ben, who I keep forgetting is also in the room, is oblivious to my current state.

He gives us ten minutes for small talk before confirming we can move forward with Casey to which I attempt to take all the thirst out of my “yes”. Ben then brings in the rest of the team for our season kick-off. It’s important that everyone is on board and comfortable with the progression of our on-air relationship which is why Casey, who has zero experience in a writers’ room, is with us. I appreciate that Ben cares about consent and has integrity when so many other producers in our industry don’t, but I also wouldn’t mind telling Casey make out practice is mandatory for a situation like ours.

It obviously isn’t, but now Casey knows that too.

Once his spiel on boundaries has concluded, Ben hands it over to Margot, a charismatic 26-year-old, who has been with me for three seasons. She sets up her laptop and projects the story plot for episode one before walking us through it.

“We want to start with a bang and to do so we’re not going to play coy about this,” she motions between me and Casey. “Our trailer for the season needs a lot of sexy, steamy scenes to imply there’s going to be a lot going on and to get your fans excited about your new relationship.”

Fake relationship, I remind myself stealing a glance at Casey whose full attention is on Margot. I haven’t seen a picture of Kelly but I can’t help but wonder if Margot is more his type. She’s petite like me, but slim with long, dark hair that cascades down her back in waves. Her eyes are brown and her naturally tan complexion gives the impression she spends more time in the sun than in the studio, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

Margot is one of the hardest workers I know and also one of the most genuine people I’ve met at Femme TV.

“We’ll start with you guys in bed together. A sorta fade up from black moment where it’s implied stuff has happened and that this is your man. Casey, are you comfortable being shirtless? We have you in boxers or boxer briefs but can adapt if that’s too much for you.”

“I’m not shy,” he says simply, and I can feel the women at the table all doing their best to keep it together.

“Fantastic,” Margot croaks out and I do my best to hide my snicker. It’s good to know that Casey’s existence is not just ruining my ability to be professional. “You’ll come in wearing boxer briefs with a cup of coffee for Mandy who is in the Body+ lingerie line.”

Margot flips to a wardrobe and sponsor slide and I see the kind of product placement the network has sold for the season. For the most part it’s tame, mostly niche plus size brands wanting some organic advertising with a sprinkle of up-and-coming cosmetics and a body positive “self-love” company that sells pleasure toys.

“We want to establish from the jump that Casey is obsessed with all of you – no hiding or weight loss talk like we’ve done in the past. This is the moment where you step back into the confidence that made America fall in love with you and you do so with a man at your side. The styling is going to reflect that this season with more skin and an attitude that doesn’t care what anyone besides Casey thinks.”

“Or maybe Casey reminded me that I can love who I am and stop listening to everyone who said otherwise. Our relationship re-invigorates the body positive message I’ve lost along the way.”

“Yes!” Margot exclaims, clearly fired up. “That’s great Mandy. I think that’s really what our show has been missing and the viewers feel that.”

I feel my back being given a light pat and I hear, “smart,” from a voice that I’m struggling to get used to. When I look over at him, Casey is giving me the first real smile I’ve seen from him. I can tell that the others were a bit forced now that I’ve seen this one because there’s something tender and relaxed in his eyes.

If I wasn’t already in massive trouble before, now I really am.

We learn that the first few episodes will establish our backstory, our dynamic, and how Casey fits into my life in New York. Episode three he’ll be painfully absent, back in Providence, and I’ll have to carry the episode noting how hard it is to be apart with only a FaceTime from Casey to tide me over.

In actuality he’ll still be in the city, but the audience won’t know that.

Then episodes four through six the PDA really picks up. The difficulty of being away makes us that more unable to keep our hands to ourselves until episode seven where a bucket of ice water is dumped on our metaphorical heads.

We’ll have a huge fight on camera where Casey establishes he doesn’t want to leave Providence and I don’t want to leave New York. If it were a romance novel, this would be the third act breakup. He leaves and I have to cry in the confessional saying I don’t know where we go from here. This bit also allows me to make self-deprecating jokes with Katrein about the sex toys that now are getting their moment in the spotlight.

The slide of sponsored sex toys has me doing everything in my power to not look over at Casey. While the slide is incredibly unsexy, I can’t help but hope there’s a part of his male sex-brain that lit up with a sliver of arousal thinking about me using any of those on myself.

I know.

Not even an hour with this man and I’ve lost my mind.

No wonder he’s the pinch hitter to save my show.

Ben shakes me out of my sex toy stupor to walk us through episode 8 – 10 where the audience gets a grand romantic gesture in the form of Casey surprising me in the recording studio where he’ll whisk me away to Hawaii. Episode 9 is a reconnection episode where Casey decides that my dreams are worth chasing and that he’ll leave Providence for me culminating in a proposal in episode 10 where my sister and parents are flown out and Katrein to help us celebrate.

Episodes 11 & 12 are always throwaways in my mind because it’s a reunion show and then “stuff you never saw” bullshit but by this point the room is full of enthusiasm. The producers are all smiles and with every kind word Casey sends their way they seem more invigorated for the start of the season than they have in some time.

There’s another hour of refining where Casey and I are largely silent and the producers and writers argue a bit over plot and structure before we’re actually done for the day. One of the new juniors, a guy named Diego, suggests we go downstairs for a celebratory kickoff drink at Lucy’s and when Casey seconds that, everyone else seems to fall in line.

“I can’t remember the last time we all made it out,” Ben says to me at the bar.

He’s wearing an expression I can only describe as wistful and I can tell he’s happy with how things went and he’s right. It’s been a long time since I felt this kind of energy with the team. With the first few seasons of Mandy’s Big Dreams it was like always this. We all went out after filming regularly and the vibe on set felt less like a job and more like a chance to put something positive out into the world.

The feedback we got was evidence of that and I loved reading the comments from women all over the U.S. who told me that I made them feel good about themselves. That I inspired them to stop trying to make themselves small physically and professionally.

I got to bring my parents and my sister into my new world post United States of Talent and it really felt like I was going to be the star I always dreamed of.

I have to admit, I didn’t even realize that we’d lost our way to the degree I had until this moment.

“It’s good though. People are excited again.”

“How are you feeling more importantly?”

“Good. I won’t lie, this kind of thing is weird but it comes with the territory I guess. And I’m excited to actually be back in the studio this season. I need the boost from the show that comes from reminding people I wasn’t always just a fat girl on a reality show.”

“Mandy…”

I can’t ready the subtext, so I smile to reassure Ben and add, “Plus you guys really outdid yourself with Casey. I think every woman in the room is jealous that he’s not going to be their fake fiancé.”

To that Ben narrows his eyes a bit but before he can say something, Casey appears behind him and gives me an awkward and adorable wave.

“Hey!”

“Hey Casey,” I say brightly.

“Do you mind if we talk one on one?”

I can tell he’s a bit nervous and I’m worried something is wrong. Maybe the story beats are too much or he’s having second thoughts about America seeing him in his underwear with me…

I follow him to Lucy’s back room which usually opens after 11pm for the late crowd. There’s a small stage where they sometimes have live music but on a Tuesday afternoon the room is empty save for the two of us which I’m increasingly growing aware of.

“What’s up?” I ask him. “Is everything ok?”

“Totally, I just…”

I can tell he’s nervous and against my better judgement I reach out and take his hand in mine.

“Casey, you can talk to me. I know I’m the star of the show or whatever but we’re in this together. I hope we might even be friends…”

“Friends,” he parrots back. “Yeah, that would be great honestly. I just…this is very new for me and I want it to go well. I need it to, honestly.”

“Yeah?”

“Ben told you about the restaurant, right? It’d kill my parents if it went under and Toby and Sarah and I have kinda kept how bad the past few months have gone on the D.L. And then there’s Kelly and…”

I can see he’s getting worked up as the story spills out of him. I feel almost bad for objectifying him for the degree I did a few hours back as it becomes abundantly clear that Casey McKnight is not just a total smoke show but also a standup human being who wants to make his parents proud and his relationship financially secure enough to be able to give Kelly the freedom to chase her dream of being an artist before they have kids.

“…so that’s why it’s so important that this goes well. I just…I…”

“What is it Casey?” I ask, finally seeing him without lust clouding my vision.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, full of sincerity.

After coming in second on United States of Talent, plus size fan favorite and singer Mandy Thompson signed on to her very own reality show. Now, ten years later and nowhere closer to being a pop star, her show is on the brink of being cancelled.

In a last ditch effort to save everything she’s worked for, the network casts Casey to play the role of a supportive boyfriend.

But things get complicated when Mandy’s dreams don’t seem to work without Casey.

Chapter 1

 “Viewership is declining.”

Those are not the three little words I was hoping to hear this morning. Not that Ben of all people would be the one to confess his undying love on a random Tuesday at the studio’s midtown office. I realize it’s been some time since I’ve heard an “I love you” from a man and while Ben’s a total catch, he’s not for me. Beyond being my boss of sorts as the executive producer of my reality show, he’s also a close friend.

I can tell he’s been working too hard as his hair has grown out and his usually clean-shaven face looks like it hasn’t seen a razor in some time. He’s wearing his typical uniform despite the fact we’re not on set – a black t-shirt and jeans with a unbuttoned flannel over it, sleeves rolled up.

Looking at him now, it’s surprising to me that no woman has managed to take him off the market in all the time I’ve known him. Sure, he’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s got that kind of Clark Kent/Superman potential in his looks and he’s a great guy.

I would know.

My reality show Mandy’s Big Dreams is in its eleventh season and Ben has been with me since the start. I remember that he was once an inexperienced and hungry-to-learn producer that was totally out of his depth with trying to figure out how to make a body positive, girl powered series following my stint on United States of Talent where I lost to Alexia’s pint size pop star act.

At the time, I didn’t care.

I was just over the moon that so many women saw me representing big girls in the way we deserve to be represented. I’m not shy about being fat, curvy, and beautiful. Nor am I shy when I sing. And I was thrilled to have the opportunity to let America get to know me – even the haters.

When all this started I was 22 and taking the leap to move to New York from the small New England town where I grew up. Like half the cast on United States of Talent, I started singing in church and high school theater productions and the show was really my first glimpse at what it meant to be a professional singer. Between the reality show and USoT I had a leg up with my music, but somehow in the past five years things have changed.

The network seems to care more about me exploring weight loss (I’ve lost none) and fitness (I do yoga and hit my daily steps goal) storylines than making music. And since season six, the reality aspect of my show has been null and void. Ben and a team of producers loosely script every scene and get it approved based on metrics and stats and focus groups until a version of their plan is enacted by me and the cast, which has gone from my real family and friends to a group of pseudo-friends and entertainment professionals like my assistant Katrein (an aspiring actress herself).

“I’m sure we won’t be cancelled,” I say, trying to brighten Ben’s mood. “What genius storylines have you cooked up for me this season?”

Ben shakes his head.

“Not me. The network.”

“Whatever – hit me with it.”

“They’ve decided that the viewers want a fairy tale romance. Apparently, they love that you’re not on the ozempic bandwagon but they want to believe love is possible…”

“…for a fat girl. I get it.”

Ben always looks uncomfortable when I call myself fat. At this point it’s sort of funny because it’s been years of me opting for fat instead of plus size or curvy when the network and advertisers push what they call “softer adjectives”. It makes me snort laugh a little when I see his familiar grimace.

“So, what’s the plan? I wish I could deliver but as much as I’ve tried to manifest a good man the universe just seems to be fresh outta stock.”

Ben opens a folder that’s been sitting on the table in front of us and pulls out three headshots. I notice that they’re not the usual actor headshots I see when we cast a new role on the show, but more like a good photo that some intern blew up to headshot size and threw in a folder.

“Here’s their selects – the network’s favorite is Casey. But if you object for some reason they’ve given their blessing for Marcus and Tommy as well. They’re all here for you to meet if you want to interview them too. You know, to see if there’s potential for chemistry on screen.”

He slides Casey’s photo to me and I’m struck by how this man looks like Jason Mamoa and one of the Hemsworth brothers had a baby. On the back of his picture, I see he’s tall – 6’2” and 210 lbs with most of his weight coming from muscle. While I read his bio, Ben mutters about how the network believes on-screen his size will work well with my 5’3” and 300 lbs frame and that he’s “the perfect ‘aspirational’ boyfriend for a woman my size”.

I know that’s the network talking and not my friend but I really hate hearing that shit.

According to his bio, Casey is not an actor and works at a bar/restaurant that’s been in his family for 2 generations. He works there with an older brother, younger sister, and his parents who have taken a step back now that the siblings have mostly taken it over. His interest in appearing on television is to help their business in Providence, RI which is struggling, and create more stability savings-wise for him and his long-term girlfriend Kelly.

My eyebrow instinctively raises when I get to that part.

“Girlfriend?”

Ben nods, “It’s an acting job Mandy.”

“He’s not an actor.”

“I know. But the network wanted real and untrained. They think viewers will be able to spot a plant a mile away. But Casey? He’s just a guy who you met at a bar on a weekend trip and hit it off with.”

“And we really think that a regular couple is going to be cool about everything television involves? Come on Ben, that’s why we transitioned from my real social network to a curated one…”

“I know, but they’ve all signed NDAs and Casey assures me that Kelly is on board.”

I glance at the other two headshots of Marcus and Tommy, but it’s all too obvious why the network prefers Casey. I’m already on thin ice with the numbers being bad going into this season and it’s not smart to rock the boat. Not like Casey is bad to look at either.

“So, that’s our back story? I went out to eat and what? He waited on me?”

Ben grins and his whole face lights up in a way that tells me he’s written this part of the season. I love that he’s so transparent when he’s proud of his work and it strikes me that he’s come a long way from the young guy who would complain over drinks that he felt like he was walking on eggshells managing a team of older writers to this sure-in-his-skin version.

“You went on a girls’ trip to Providence for Katrein’s 30th and night of, did a bar crawl. A few drinks later you end up in a karaoke bar and of course you grabbed the mic and rocked a version of your own hit song from the USoT days. Casey and his friends were there and he remembered you from the show, approached, and invited you out for a drink – just the two of you…”

“You’re making me pretend I ditched my girls on a girl’s trip for a guy?” I ask, immediately imagining the nasty comments flooding my socials.

“Well that’s just it – you would never do that right?”

“Never!”

I can feel myself smiling. This is the part of my job that I really love. The part of working with Ben that’s made these years fly by even when things were tough. We get into this kind of flow where I can see the season start to play out in my mind well before I even step foot on set.

“But Katrein sees you guys together and insists. She plays matchmaker even – sending a text when you’re out with Casey that you’ll have to get a ride back to NYC because the gang decided to head back early for her brother’s show.”

I gasp, jokingly clutching my imaginary pearls, “You’re not going to imply with a hotel room free I invite a man back that I barely know, are you!?”

“Yes but! With the room free you talk all night because you make it clear you’re not a one-night stand kind of woman and Casey respects that. And when day breaks you’re both already in love. It’s obvious that this is a once in a lifetime connection that you just can’t say goodbye to…”

“Why Benedict Robinson, if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re a romantic.”

Ben blushes at the use of his full, given name but pushes through the discomfort to walk me through the rest of my love story with Casey.

“Anyway, we start the season with a confessional with you and Casey talking about how you’ve been doing long distance for the past four months but things are going really well. We make it so it feels like he’s a bit more into you than you are into him.”

“And what about my music?” I ask, not being able to hide the hope in my voice.

“Going on dates and talking about the relationship with Katrein and having the friends and family meet him will likely trump any music making. Our season finale is going to be in Hawaii where he’ll propose. Then, when we get renewed because this plot is so good and everyone loves a love story, we plant seeds of discontent in season 14 ultimately leading to you making the decision as much as you love him the relationship isn’t right. It’ll re-enforce your brand of being a woman who stands on her own two feet despite all the judgement from the rest of the world and still show plus size women they can date whomever. A win-win.”

“What if we break up because I want to start performing again? Maybe the relationship ignites a desire to write love songs…and then break up songs?”

Ben knows I’ve been a good sport since my last album flopped four years ago and the network distanced me from the thing that put me on the map in the first place. They even forced me to say that these days music isn’t as interesting to me anymore which couldn’t be further from the truth. The influencer marketing is a nice income boost and the small roles in made-for-tv movies only help the network I already work for, but music is still the thing that has me waking up in the morning.

I have so many songs ready to go but I know that without the show championing that storyline, my audience is less likely to listen.

“I’ll consider it,” Ben says. “Are you on board? Ready to make season eleven the best one yet?”

“Let’s do it,” I saying, extending my hand in jest to Ben who shakes it without a hint of irony.

“Great! I’m excited,” he says beaming. “And I can’t wait for you to meet Casey. I’ll go get him…”

Ben leaves the room and it dawns on me that I’m feeling nervous. I’ve never faked a relationship on air before, mostly because I didn’t need to. I was with Tobey for the first couple of seasons, and then Katrein introduced me to Bart, and then there was just a focus on fashion, fitness, and weight loss where I guess I didn’t realize how long I’d been single.

I’m suddenly incredibly aware of the fact that I’m wearing no makeup, my glasses, hair in a messy ponytail, and a maroon athletic set I was gifted two seasons ago that I’ve never worn to the gym. To make matters worse, I’m just now noticing that I spilled a little coffee on the zip up hoodie and can’t decide if I should remove it or if meeting someone in a tank top that doesn’t have nearly enough build-in support for the girls is a worse first impression.