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“Ready?” Jill asks. Marie’s brown bob of hair bops up and down as she nods, meeting Jill’s eyes before knocking her signature rap on the door of Professional Exy Player Andrew Minyard’s apartment.
The two had been in charge of filming for the Exy reality tv show ‘A Life in Exy’. It had been doing quite well since the opening premiere where the crew followed Kevin Day on a typical day in his life. Jill was tasked (as the director and producer simultaneously) with asking questions and prompting conversations to the star. People seemed to find it funny, or maybe just entertaining, when Kevin continued to yell at his Dolphin teammates only for most of them to give him the finger and ignore him.
The second episode with a goalie from the Louisville Lobsters did just as well and the network deemed it a hit, good enough to keep filming episodes. And now, on the 7th episode of the first season, Andrew Minyard with his inconsistent stats and bored stare was the next victim.
“When do you think the rest of the crew will get here? I have a feeling this guy won’t have much tolerance for lateness,” Marie asks as they wait for the door to open and the short goalkeeper to let them in. “No idea. We’re early anyway. If Carl is a few minutes late, it’ll be fine. We have to brief Minyard on the schedule anyways,” Jill answers absentmindedly.
The cold wind nips at her nose and she reaches out to knock again. Colorado winters are brutal on her Southern roots. Jill doesn’t care much for snow, and the longer they stand on the doorstep, the more annoyed she gets.
Finally, after another five minutes and some swearing from Jill, the door opens to reveal a sleepy looking Neil Josten. Jill shivers and pushes past him into the heated living room, Marie following. Jill hadn’t noticed a second car in the driveway, but she must have just missed it. Neil was probably visiting or something. What other explanation could there be for Neil Josten, Minyard’s teammate, being here?
The house is modestly decorated, far more than the last episode where they followed Hope Jeckers. That girl had diamonds encrusted in her cabinets, which according to twitter, was ‘crazy’ and ‘rich privilege at it’s finest’. Jill didn’t necessarily disagree but she thought it was somewhat expected for someone with millions and millions of dollars to spend it on stupid things. Andrew Minyard’s house did not match that standard.
The living room was small but homely, a bright orange couch and black leather chairs surrounded a gaming cabinet with a large tv mounted above it. The short end table has cigarette trays and candy wrappers. Jill briefly wondered if it was healthy or really plausible for a player as good as Andrew to smoke.
Neil Josten, starting striker of the Colorado Hawks, coughs behind them, calling Jill back to his face. He was objectively attractive, but Jill found him kind of . . . smudgy, his edges frayed. Jill couldn’t really explain it, but she would guess it had something to do with the combination of the scars on his face, and the dulled alert look in his icy blue eyes. The mussed curls didn’t help either.
“What’re you doing here?” Marie asks. Jill shoots her a look, but Marie has a slight issue with boundaries . . . which Jill guessed made her perfect for a reality show. Neil raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, the oversized black hoodie folding over itself as he does so. “I mean, why are you in Minyard’s house?” Marie clarifies.
“Why are you in Minyard’s house?” Neil shoots back.
“We’re from the camera crew. For ‘A Life in Exy’? I hope he remembered.”
A voice calls from somewhere else in the house, sounding suspiciously like a sharp swear, as a clatter rings through the room. Neil’s head swivels as he holds up a finger, signaling for them to wait a moment, and leaves the girls standing alone. Marie and Jill shoot each other a look, standing in silence as they both try to listen to whatever’s happened.
All Jill catches is some more swearing and another bright clanging, the sound loud and echoing.
“202% Josten.”
Andrew Minyard enters the living room, right as Carl, one of the camera men, knocks on the door. Andrew is wearing his signature bored stare, armbands, a black t-shirt, and some orange pajama pants complete with fox paws on them. He holds another equally atrocious orange blanket around himself, Josten holding onto the corner of it and sighing.
“What the hell is happening? It is Saturday Morning. It is 6:00,” Minyard says. Josten beside him sighs and rolls his eyes.
“I just explained this to you,” he says, which earns him a glare from Minyard.
“Get the door, rabbit.” Josten does what’s asked of him, letting in Carl, the box of microphones in his hands, and closes the door behind him, making sure to lock all 3 locks.
“Again. I ask, what is happening?” Minyard asks. Josten just pushes past him and goes to curl up on the couch, turning on the tv with the small remote on the center console.
“We’re from ‘A Life in Exy’, the tv show. What is Neil Josten doing here?” Carl answers.
“He lives here,” Andrew answers.
“Oh, y'all are roommates?”
“No.” That’s all he says. Josten huffs from his spot on the couch, his face pressed into the cushions.
“Okay . . . well anyways, we need to go over the schedule for today. You’re basically going to do whatever you’d do on a typical Saturday. We’ll follow you throughout your day and try to get some interviews in every couple hours. I think your PR manager sent over this all in an email.” Jill had briefly talked to Sarah about this, communicating through spaced out emails, but when Sarah had warned her about Minyard’s inability to interact with anybody, Jill had written it off as a small concern, one they could get around with the right questions.
Josten lets out a laugh from the couch, his shoulders shaking. Minyard throws his blanket at him, but the redhead just grabs it and pulls it over his head. “I don’t talk to her. She’s a waste of my time.” Jill’s eyebrows furrow and she lets out a shocked sound. How rude can this man get? Minyard raises one eyebrow and shuffles past the three invaders in his house to slump down on the couch next to Josten, laying his head on the lump in the blankets.
This might turn out to be harder than she thought.
***
Carl, Jill, and Marie are stuffed into the backseat of Minyard’s maserati, waiting for him and Josten to finish up with whatever they’re doing inside. The morning had been unnecessarily hectic. Minyard continued to ask questions about things that made no sense, and answer other’s questions with cryptic answers. Josten was no help, much to Jill’s annoyance, just shaking his head and sighing a lot, sometimes laughing or smiling at something Andrew said. Eventually, the crew had started to film, failing to get much out of the two boys. Jill suspected that they lived together because they were together, but any questions about that led to Andrew’s short answer of ‘Neil is nothing’ which for some reason made the other boy smile, which in turn made Andrew shove him and turn away from the cameras.
He was continuously crossing his arms, and at one point, moved into the kitchen to apparently ‘make us breakfast’, but emerged with only a protein bar and a bowl of fruit which he gave to his not-boyfriend and a jar of marshmallow fluff (complete with a spatula) for himself. Josten had then sat on the counter, eating his bowl of fruit, and Andrew stood in between his legs. Minyard then proceeded to glare straight into the camera (positioned on the other side of the counter, facing Josten’s back) and lick his spatula of fluff, not blinking once.
The two had then played video games for a little over an hour and a half, which led to a shit ton of screaming from Josten’s part, a lot of small smirks from Andrew, and ended with the controller being thrown across the room. Neil had then suggested that they go to the court to get some practice in, which made Andrew glare at him more, say ‘Junkie’, and grab the keys off the counter, telling Jill and her crew to get in the maserati, Neil screaming ‘back seat!’ as they left.
(there now you’re all caught up)
“They’re totally together . . . right?” Marie asks.
“Oh definitely,” Jill answers while scrolling through twitter on her phone. The multiple rock-climbing accounts she follows have posted in the last hour. She didn’t really remember following them. With a loud slam, Andrew and Neil exit into the garage, both with messy hair and flushed faces. Jill almost felt like it’d be rude not to look away.
They two enter the sports car and as soon as Andrew turns the key, MCR, Thank You for The Venom, starts playing. Josten snorts, no doubt at Andrew’s 2008-esque music taste and Minyard reaches to turn it up. Carl is rolling the camera as they pull out of the garage, giving Jill the signal to begin her questions and such.
“So, MCR? My niece likes them.”
Andrew doesn’t answer.
Jill continues, “Neil, any thoughts on Andrew’s music taste?”
“No.” Neil has his legs pulled up to his chest and his head resting on the tops of his knees, a small smile gracing his scarred face as he stares at Andrew.
The engine revs and Marie lets out a startled sound, grabbing Jill’s shoulder and pointing at the speedometer on the front of the car. Jill makes a sound similar to Marie’s and shakes Carl’s shoulder so he zooms in to show the speed. He’s going 25 miles over the speed limit.
“Um . . . are you worried about getting pulled over? I feel like I need to remind you that the speed limit is 40,” Carl says.
Andrew quirks an eyebrow, something that Jill has noticed both of the boys do. “Let them try.” Neil smirks slightly, still staring at Andrew.
The silence in the car is far from comfortable and the speed just keeps increasing, the corners getting sharper, and the boys getting more and more relaxed, even as the crew sits in the back holding onto the handles on the ceiling for dear life. Finally, they get to the court and Jill lets out a deep breath.
Carl has turned off his camera after getting a shot of Neil and Andrew walking into the court to practice. “This is going to be an interesting episode. They won’t answer anything we say. Andrew’s too cryptic and Neil keeps saying things that make little to no sense,” he says. “Hopefully there’ll be some more players at the court and maybe we can get some stuff out of them,” Jill answers, checking the time on her phone. 9:30. “We can film some at lunch too.”
At the court Neil does some drills, putting as much passion and energy into them as he does into actual games. Andrew lays down in the goal, his exy racquet stood up against the wall and his arms and legs flung out like a starfish. Neil occasionally glares at him and shouts stuff in Russian. Andrew just flings his hand up, giving him the finger. Carl gets a few great shots over the course of about an hour.
“We’re going to go get some shots of the building,” Jill says, sighing with the lack of anything-that’s-not-exy content they’re getting. “Come on.” Carl and Marie head out with her.
Once they’re out of the building Jill reaches into her pocket for her phone only to find a couple cough drops and a crushed napkin. “Fuck. I forgot my phone. Get some shots, I'll be back in a second.” Jill walks through the door sighing all the way and finds her way back through all the elaborate hallways and equipment rooms. The Colorado Hawks’ court is enormous, with restaurants underneath the southern seats, and countless storage rooms. It’d be harder to navigate without the maps, but even with the huge signs adorning the walls and pillars, it’s a hard place to figure out.
Finally, after about ten minutes of walking, Jill finally comes to the court, sighing in relief at the big doors. She pushes them open, anchoring herself with a foot, only to let out a yelp and close them straight away.
That was . . . Andrew and Neil. The image flashes again in her mind, Neil pushed up against the court wall, behind the goal Andrew had occupied, his hands in Andrew’s hair, and his lips mouthing the skin of his neck. Jill heard a noise from the court and put a hand to her mouth in surprise, shaking her head as she walked/ran away.
Her phone could wait.
***
After Jill had seen the boys, she had casually (not) suggested that the crew stay away from the court for a bit, maybe do a tour of the rest of the Bears’ court. The crew had agreed without much protest and soon it was lunchtime. They collected Andrew and Neil who, thankfully, were not kissing when they walked into the court. Instead they stood close, staring at each other very . . . well, basically, for lack of better words, Jill would say they were eye-fucking.
Carl called for lunch right before Neil got a call from someone to which he just said ‘yes’ and then proceeded to click the red button, hanging up.
Andrew told them that they were going to McDonalds and the crew sat through another terrifying car ride, only to be dumped off at a surprisingly nice McDonalds, a man with rich brown skin and smile lines wearing a Palmetto Foxes jersey greeting them happily.
“Hey! I’m Nicky Hemmick, Andrew’s cousin!” Nicky said, shaking each member of Jill’s crew's hand eagerly. He was practically bursting with pent up energy.
“Jill Nowak. It’s great to meet you! Any chance you’d want to be filmed in a reality show?” Nicky jumped up and down and threw his hands up. “Ahh! Yes! And I'm sure the rest of us will too. There’s like six more foxes in there, plus my fiance. We’re just visiting for christmas.” There’s a pause as Nicky turns to look at Andrew and Neil, his smile softer somehow. He claps his hands. “Well! Let’s go! Come on in! We’re at the last table, can’t miss us,” Nicky says, gesturing for the crew to go in first while he stays behind, probably to talk to Andrew and Neil for a second.
The crew goes and Carl starts talking to Marie, waving his hands in the air largely. Jill rubs her forehead, a headache already forming, and resigns herself to a day of weird takes and chaotic strikers.