Page 89 of Fun at Parties
The pain is the raw, stabbing kind, but I don’t try to make it go away. There is not a cell in my body willing to make the argument that Nate’s departure is somehow a good thing. I feel everything: the sadness at how things ended, the frustration at the fact that things couldn’t be different, the anger, fair or not, at him for not being more sympathetic to my point of view. Even a deep kind of fear, that I made the wrong decision.
I feel it all, and I’m going to continue feeling it all, but that doesn’t mean I have to feel it here in this cabin.
The ten-hour drive to Seapoint feels impossible, and Bailey isn’t home from her conference yet anyway. I make it to Blacksburg, Virginia, and get a room at a basic chain hotel. They offer me a garden view, but I take the one facing the parking lot as an act of self-punishment.
The next day, I try to wallow in my room, but it’s not in my nature. Instead I wallow at a gym, and take a run through Virginia Tech’s campus, doing as many sets of stairs and hills as I can find. Hanging over my head is not only everything that happened with Nate, but also my looming call with Tracy and the CycleLove team.
On Thursday, I take the call from my hotel room. When I log in, Tracy studies me with a mild smile. As usual, her face is devoid of makeup, but her gray bob is freshly trimmed. “Quinn Ray! You’re looking well-rested.”
I’m not sure if that’s flattery or a dig at me for not doing enough over the past two weeks. “Thanks so much, Tracy.”
“Listen, the others are in the waiting room, but before I let them in, I just wanted to share with you that your numbers for rides on-demand have been through the roof. Existing riders who haven’t given you a chance before are trying your classes now, and we’re converting new riders. I think you’re going to be very happy with this year’s performance bonus.”
“That’s amazing,” I say.
“Now, don’t worry when you see the average rating these new riders are giving,” she warns me. “We think they’re coming in expecting more of what they saw in your viral video, but they’re getting ‘ray of sunshine’ Quinn. A big part of what we want to discuss on this call is how we’re going to resolve that disconnect without alienating your dedicated riders.”
I nod like I understand. What she means, it turns out, is that when I go back to work, I need to be a ray of sunshine who also radiates independence and contentmentand hurls wisdom about interpersonal relationships at people.
“Like your best friend’s older sister, who’s really cool and gives great advice, but in an upbeat way. She’s the captain of the cheerleading team and she knows a lot about boys,” explains someone else from the content team a few minutes later. “We want them sweating, smiling, and stimulated.”
“Stimulated,” I repeat. Wait,Michelleis supposed to be the wise older sister of CycleLove. But Michelle is gone.
“Mentally stimulated,” Tracy says. “By your thought-provoking advice.”
The backs of my knees are starting to sweat. I’m regretting taking this call cross-legged on the bed. “I’m not an expert on relationships.”
Tracy shakes her head. “You don’t have to be. People don’t want a lecture when they’re taking a CycleLove class. They want a connection with someone who feels real. You’re going to strike the perfect balance of relatable and aspirational.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. “So, assuming I can do all that—I mean, I’m sure I can do all that—is anything else changing that I need to know about?”
The marketing and PR people jump in to explain how they’re featuring me in our next batch of ads and pitching me for media interviews starting the week after next. Then they talk social media content—basically, they want more of it.
“Remember we talked about you doing an ‘Ask Me Anything’ on Instagram?” Tracy chimes in. “I had a betteridea. This evening, I want you to do a live workout. Body weight only, something simple, just to give people a little preview. Tie it to the fact that your first class back is in ten days. Summer will send you a promo code you can share.”
“Just sent,” Summer pipes up with a dimpled smile, flicking her strawberry-blond curls over her shoulder.
Tracy pushes her glasses up her nose. “Invite viewers to send in questions while you’re live. We’ll pick a few for you to answer between sets.”
My vision blurs. If I need to go live tonight, leading a workout and answering questions, that means I need to beon,with all the energy and confidence and perfectly styled hair that it entails.
All I can manage is a nod, and they launch into a conversation about logistics—getting a tablet to me so I can film, finding a place in Blacksburg where I can do it. Nowhere outdoors, because of the audio quality, but not a sleek studio, because the average traveler doesn’t have access to a place like that. They settle on the hotel gym, with Summer making a call to reception to ask them to close it to other guests while I’m in there. Meanwhile, I try to blink away the dizziness and squeeze the comforter to stop my hands from shaking.
“Thank you, everyone,” I say when they’re done. “This has been a wild couple of weeks, and I appreciate all the support.” The words feel stale coming out of my mouth.
“A great note to end on,” Tracy says. “It looks like we can give everyone three minutes back, and Quinn can go announce her live class.” She looks satisfied.
I feel betrayed by Tracy, but I don’t know if it’s fair.How can I expect her to know what’s going on in my head if I don’t say it? She knows I’m ambitious. She thinks I want this. I can’t assume the worst of her without telling her how I feel.
Before I lose my nerve, I ask, “Tracy, can you hang back for a minute?”
Everyone else drops off, and she waits, unmoving, for me to speak.
“I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me,” I say. “But I was having a difficult time before I left L.A., and I’m still kind of struggling.”
Her nostrils flare. “You’ve had several weeks of vacation. I’ve been very accommodating.”
“I’ve had to spend a lot of it on work. Making content, responding to messages.”
