Page 36 of Make The Cut

Static crackles in my earpiece and I suppress a groan. I’d forgotten that Timothy Jacobson, or as he prefers for everyone to call him, TJ, would be talking to me in my head. Isn’t it bad enough that I have to hear his voice in person? “Whoa, whoa, whoa, not so fast. You can’t let him leave now. Things are just getting juicy.”

Kaveh freezes on the edge of the stage, his sneakers brushing the velvet curtains. “Can I go?”

“Uh…” I don’t want to take back what I just said. “In a bit.”

To keep the money that TJ has sogenerouslyoffered to back the show… I have to bark like a dog when he asks. Ugh.

“You know what, all you ever do is criticize every stylist who walks onto this show! If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous,” Acacia is screaming at Rose. Tears are now rolling down her red, puffy cheeks. I groan. My head starts to pound at the sight of them. They look like they’re about to rip each other to pieces with their manicured nails, or at least rip someone’s hair extensions out.

“Why would I be jealous of ano-name, wannabe, two-bitloserwho can’t even manage to put together a proper outfit?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the cameras circling them, like vultures, sharks, or maybe just leeches trying to capture the dramatic event for TJ’s delight. I can picture the headlines already.Rose McCartney has a full diva meltdown and yells at a contestant on Make the Cut! That isnotthe kind of publicity that should be happening on the show.

I stomp over to Rose and Acacia and put my hand on Rose’s shoulder. “Rose, you need to calm down.”

She shakes me off. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that telling a woman tocalm downis like baring your neck to a grizzly bear and expecting it not to eat you?”

“Are you comparing yourself to a grizzly bear right now?” As I cast an eye over at Acacia, she grins, biting back a laugh despite her tears. Good.

Maybe she’ll come back. Of course, unless Rose eliminates her, which seems likely. There is a sudden death round coming up after this.

“I can’t deal with you right now, Naoya. I can’t.” She looks like she’s about to say something far worse before she turns around and walks through the curtains, brushing past a shocked and confused-looking Kaveh.

“Well.” I throw my hands in the air. “Welcome to showbiz.”

* * *

Later, backstage when filming has wrapped for the day, TJ corners me in my dressing room.

Well, I’d describe it as cornering if he wasn’t a couple of inches shorter than me and completely not intimidating in his nerdy glasses and Star Wars t-shirt. “Naoya, we need to talk. You can’t be so nice to the contestants.”

I snort. “This is a good cop, bad cop show. I’m playing the nice guy and Rose is the ice queen.”

“Be that as it may…”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Who still saysbe that as it may? Are we in a corporate office or a period drama?

“Be that as it may,” TJ continues. “You can’t be too nice to the contestants. You’re going to have to eliminate some of them.”

Drumming my fingers on the dressing table, I glance up at him in the mirror. He’s skulking in the darkened alcove of my dressing room, the one where the light bulb has burnt out. “I know that. It’s only the first round of the show. Elimination isn’t for another week.”

“Yeah, and it’s going to be harder for you to tell which ones need to go and which ones need to stay if you’re so soft on all of them.” His face contorts into a sneer.

“I’m not beingsofton them, TJ. Last time I checked, this wasmyshow, not yours.”

“And last time I checked, I was signing your pay cheques and you’re about to lose all your money if this show doesn’t succeed.” The producer’s sneer settles into a grim line.

“That had better not be a threat.” I finish tugging a plain blue t-shirt over my head. The colour usually soothes me, reminding me of Poppy’s eyes. Today, nothing can calm me from my heightened aggravation.

“Oh, no, Naoya, I’d neverdareto threaten you.” He snickers. “No, more like I wouldn’t have to.”

He leans against my dressing room door. I stand and kick the door stopper away so that the door swings shut, nearly pinching his fingers. He glares at me.

“That was uncalled for.”

“So was yourthreat.” I fold my arms over my chest.

“That girl, Poppy…” he says, instead of taking my not-so-subtle hints and leaving. “You like her, don’t you?”

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