Chapter 2
If you could ask anybody who knew her about her most defining personality trait, most people would say that Bette Porter was, above everything, a very determined person. She was also very smart and had a particular awareness of everything that surrounded her that allowed her to always make the best decisions possible, but, more than that, she would do anything needed to reach a goal that she set for herself. She wouldn’t call herself selfish, per se, but she had learned quickly in the movie business that if you don’t do everything in your power to set yourself up for triumph, no one else would do it for you. That determination was what made her move her whole life across the country, all the way from her childhood house in California to her dorm room in New York, when she got that full scholarship to study in Julliard that her father still congratulated her about. It was also what made her leave her apartment, her friends and the life she had in New York a couple of years after graduating from college, knowing fair well that the career she wanted was in Los Angeles, back home where it all began.
It was, also, what had her in front of her bedroom mirror, checking once again if her outfit was the right one for this occasion. What should one wear to a date that wasn’t really a date with a beautiful woman with the one you shared a tumultuous history and a questionable day-to-day work relationship? All she knew was what Claire had texted her: fancy restaurant, 7 p.m reservation, you should pick her up, this is the address. Well, she knew another thing: despite all the bitterness that she and Tina had going on, this fake dating to raise viewers needed to work. For many reasons.
So she straightened her high-waisted, elegant black trousers with her hands for one last time, adjusted her brown locks to look exactly like she wanted them and picked up her car keys before starting the short drive to Tina’s house. She drove reminding herself why she was doing this: it was work, they were paying her extra money to do this, she needed to look like she wanted to be here. Most importantly, she really wanted Dupont and Associates to run for more seasons, and she goddam needed to be the main character in it.
She was already at Tina’s front door while still processing her thoughts. She reached for her phone and opened her chat with the blonde, only to realize that this would be the first message she would ever send her.
“I’m outside” she quickly typed, not bothering to say hello. Tina didn’t even write an answer, the double blue checks indicating that she got the message.
Five minutes after, the blonde emerged from inside the house. She was wearing a short black dress and some high heels that accentuated her ivory legs in a way Bette had never appreciated before. Her hair was down, framing her face casually as if she hadn’t even wasted a minute brushing it. Bullshit, Bette thought, she spent at least an hour in front of the mirror doubting every choice just like I did.
Instead, when Tina got into the passenger’s seat, she barely said:
“Hi”, and she couldn’t dare to look at her in the eyes.
“Hi” her co-worker responded, the tone of her voice a little too harsh for a greeting.
They spent at least five minutes driving in silence before Tina spoke again.
“I need to settle rules and limits. For tonight and for everything that comes out of this.”
“What are you even talking about? Nothing will come out of this.” Bette said, taking whatever she wanted from what the blonde said and twisting it in a way that allowed her to be angry. They always did that. It was a conscious, premeditated and well-rehearsed dance they had been doing for three years.
“C’mon, you know I didn’t mean that, so don’t manipulate my words.” Of course, Tina was well aware of what Bette was doing. She usually did it too. “I mean this date, and the next one, and the interview, and whatever other stuff they want to throw us into.”
“We signed a non-disclosure agreement this morning. I supposed we’ll rehearse that story before giving the interview and that’s all.” Bette tried to be as assertive and polite as possible.
“I said limits and rules!” Tina’s voice was getting higher by the minute. “I know the story we have to tell; I just want to know what we are supposed to do tonight! Those fuckers could’ve given us a script.” Her cheeks were red, a sign of annoyance that Bette knew all too well.
“Like that would make it more comfortable.” Bette scoffed. Beside her, the other woman gave her a killer look that she knew could escalate quickly, and for the sake of taking care of her car, she de-escalated. “Ok, we should hold hands. But I don’t think kissing is necessary at the moment.” The brunette said the most reasonable thing that came to her mind.
“An hour and a half is enough time” Tina added, her voice reaching a normal level now that they were speaking in the same terms.
“More than enough.” Bette agreed, probably the first time they ever agreed on anything. Well, since… “Also, we have to laugh a lot, even if we are not saying anything funny.” She quickly interrupted her own train of thought.
“Looking at each other in the eyes would be a good thing too.” When Bette scrunched her eyebrows in confusion, Tina continued, “I don’t know if you noticed, but we don’t look at each other when we speak. We’re not doing it right now.”
“Because I’m driving! And also…” Bette started complaining, but the blonde cut her short.
“Stop. We’ll look at each other while we talk. That’s all.”
“Whatever.” A couple of seconds passed by before she added. “I also, you know, if this were a real date, I’d throw by hand around your shoulders, or your waist. I could do that if it would make this look natural.” Bette was already in acting mode. Every time she got a particularly challenging scene, she would ask herself the same question: what would I do in this situation in my normal life? Committing to the acting, she called it. Normally, a date was not a challenging scene, but the circumstances here were… well, not ideal.
“Yeah, that could work” Tina nodded. “Look, I can make this. We act like a couple all the time. We can do this.”
But it turned out to be a pretty difficult act to keep up with.
When on set, filming a scene could take many hours, but the normal thing was to have interruptions, mistakes that lead to start all over again, or even lunch breaks that gave you time to recompose yourself before going back once again. But at the restaurant, Bette felt a level of awareness of everything surrounding her that had her on a constant edge. They had walked up to the table Claire had reserved for them with a rehearsed lightness in their step: they had done this a million times with cameras and a crew around them, but this time, the cameras were subtler and the crew was either blissfully unaware or completely taken by surprise. She could see the woman taking an intended discrete picture from a table far away, the raised eyebrow of the waiter that served them, and the heads that turned their way in a way that pretended to be subtle but was anything but that. While all that happened around them, she smiled at Tina and made the lightest conversation that they could make, which was, truth be told, no conversation at all. It was really awkward to be sharing a table in the dim light of an intimate restaurant with someone you had spent every possible day of the last three years trying to kill each other.
“Bette,” the blonde tried to get her attention. Busy as she was trying to look normal, it took two attempts before the brunette realized she was being talked to. “They already snapped pictures. The girl behind you and I think someone on my left, too. This will get out soon.”
“Yeah” she agreed. “The woman behind you was pointing her phone suspiciously at us, too. This will be on social media at any minute, now.”
“Oh, it’ll be crazy. I have no idea how I’m going to explain this to my friends.”
“Well, we can’t”, Bette stated. It was true. Apart from them, Helena, Claire, and a couple of other members of the crew had all signed non-disclosures too, so no one was able to talk about what was really happening. It was necessary (they couldn’t risk the truth coming out, as it would cause even more harm), but it was a cruel thing to live through, too.
“I know. It doesn’t make it any easy. At least I can talk to the girls…” Tina sounded like the topic was weighing heavy on her. As much as they disliked each other, Bette could understand that feeling.
“Yeah, me too. Alice said there’s no way in hell this ends well.” The comment earned her a bitter laugh from the blonde, who quickly added:
“I agree with her, but here we are. For what is worth, I’m trying really hard to make it work.”
Bette nodded, and silence fell upon them while they ate their food. It was the first time they shared any type of conversation without screaming at each other in many, many years. The moment was interrupted by Tina’s phone, violently vibrating from her purse. She quickly reached for it and unlocked it before concentrating for a couple of seconds on the messages she was reading.
“Oh shit” she exclaimed, clearly taken by surprise. “Look, there’re a bunch of paparazzi out of here. And those pictures are all over Twitter, according to my agent.” She showed her screen to Bette, the messages from a guy named Tom giving the exact same information Tina had just said out loud.
Bette’s face changed immediately, concerned etched in her features in a way she never showed around Tina. The blonde noticed, and whether she wanted to know or not, Bette sensed that it was only fair to tell her the truth.
“I hate paparazzi. They gave me some of the biggest anxiety attacks I’ve ever had. Can’t really handle them even if I try.”
“Okay.” Tina digested the information before working up a plan in her head. “No problem. I’ll handle them for you, you just, you know, stay close.”
Forty-five minutes later, after a dinner that had gone unexpectedly too well and a fake fight over who paid they had agreed to have (Bette was going to handle her card, but it was all taken care by production), they headed to the front door of the establishment. The closer they got, the clearer it became that there were at least twenty people waiting for them, and probably as many microphones and cameras. Bette tensed up immediately.
“Hey, don’t worry” Tina said by her side, her voice a calming presence that she wasn’t expecting. “Here, hold my hand. We’ll go fully Emma and Laura now, and you don’t even have to look at them.” There was a sweetness in everything she was saying that took Bette completely by surprise. She looked at the extended hand she was supposed to take and placed her own on top of it, the familiar feeling of the soft and cold fingers of her co-worker bringing her some awkward calm.
Once outside, it was like trying to stop an avalanche, but Tina handled it with a grace that Bette had no choice but to admire. She could’ve never done that on her own. The blonde waived her hand at the reporters, said a couple of “calm down guys” and “no comments” to the microphones, and guided her to where Bette had parked her car. Somewhere in that mess, she had slipped her arm around Tina’s waist, a gesture born out of the need for stability more than anything. Not missing a step, the other woman had brushed her lips against her cheek while they walked away, a simple but convincing gesture that would surely look good on the internet portals.
Later that night, already tucked in bed, Bette logged into her burner Twitter account to see the results of their experiment.
“I know this is real because my girl looks uncomfortable af” someone named @emmaporters had posted, with a picture of them in the one she looked clearly uneasy. She clicked on the tweet to look at the replies.
“the hands, girl. That’s gaaaaay”
“you saw the video of the tiny lil peck T gave her after? I’ll stay there forever.”
She kept scrolling, pleased with herself like she always felt after a work well done. A message illuminated her screen.
“It seems it went well, but I want all the details tomorrow” Alice wrote, and Bette smiled at her friend’s eagerness to gossip. The three points on the screen indicated that she wasn’t done. “I didn’t expect any less but dare I say bitch, you were very convincing.”