Page 61 of Saving Pookie

I look to the left to find Jules standing with pursed lips. She's not happy her show ponies aren't performing. She raises a hand to the crew and steps into frame. "We all remember we're filming a reality show, right? Do I need to pass out a fucking script?" Her eyes dart around the table, waiting for someone to respond. Nobody does. She settles her gaze on Braxton. "I have an idea. Why don't we start this conversation with an apology?"

Braxton peels the shades down to the bridge of his nose. "What am I apologizing for?"

"Seriously?" Gunnar scoffs. "You attacked him unprovoked."

"There we go." Jules claps her hands together and backs out of frame. "That's your script. Now do your fucking jobs."

It's awkward because the cameras never stopped filming, so they capture a complete rewind of the conversation.

This time, Braxton begins the confrontation. "I know you brought me here for an apology, but there are two things I don't do. I don't eat spaghetti for breakfast and I don't apologize for shit."

Gunnar shakes his head. "I don't know how you've made it this far in life without getting your ass beat."

Braxton pushes his shades back up the bridge of his nose and smirks. "You sound kind of violent, Gunnar. Would you like to talk about that?"

Gunnar leans forward and seethes, "I'd like you to apologize for the bullshit you pulled at the Spritz. You attacked him unprovoked."

Cameron leans into Gunnar and whispers in his ear, but it's loud enough that we can all hear, "It's okay, babe."

I don't know what makes me more nauseous—Cameron pretending to be someone he's not or calling Gunnar babe. He glances at me and the sonofabitch can't even pretend to hide the sly smirk forming at the corner of his lip.

"It's not okay." Gunnar pushes Cameron away, which is all the confirmation I need to know that this whole thing is a sham. This is a storyline and nothing more. "You know what I think happened?" He leans back in his chair and points at me. "I think you got into Braxton's head and filled it with lies."

Braxton crosses his arms and laughs. "Here's my apology. I'm sorry I punched you, Cameron." He uncoils his arms and points to Gunnar. "I was aiming for the momma's boy."

Gunnar's face reddens. "What the fuck did I tell you?"

"I don't remember." Braxton shrugs. "Bullshit goes in one ear and straight out the other."

"What are you two, anyway?" Cameron wags his finger between Braxton and me. "Roommates? Best friends?" A satisfied chuckle rumbles past his lips. "Lovers?"

Braxton's thigh bumps into me, his leg vibrating like a motor. I notice the coloring in his face lighten.

"We're friends," I say deadpan, and I don't know if anyone listening is actually going to believe that for a second—Gunnar, Cameron, Jules, the crew, the audience. I certainly don't, and I know Braxton doesn't either. "That's also none of your business."

"Braxton, I'm just going to tell you the truth," Gunnar says. "I'm not going to beat around the bush anymore. You should know who you're living with."

Braxton aims his thumb at me. "I'm living with Pookster."

"He's a liar, a fraud, and is not who he pretends to be." Gunnar straightens himself in his seat and passes me a satisfied grin. He's about to push me into a corner. "Pookie stole ten thousand dollars from Cameron, and that's why Cameron left him."

The table goes silent.

Braxton latches onto my thigh and squeezes. I know he's just waiting for me to give him the signal, a tap of my foot against his, so he can throw another punch. It's not going to happen.

I nod at Cameron, peel the sunglasses from my eyes, and place them on the table in front of me. In the same way he wanted me to see his eyes, the same eyes that used to boss me around, I want him to see mine. "If I stole that much money from you, I wouldn't have been living on the streets when I left you."

Gunnar recoils in his seat, apparent confusion washing over him. He tilts his head just slightly to the right. "Wait, what?"

"He's lying," Cameron growls, narrowing his eyes on me. "A leopard can't change his spots." He unclips his shades and places them over his eyes. "Isn't that right, Pookie?"

"You weren't homeless," Gunnar says flatly, but it comes out more like a question. "You stayed in Cameron's penthouse until you moved in with Braxton."

I collect my sunglasses off the table, stand up, and smirk. "Someone is clearly lying."

Braxton gets up from the table and scoots his chair beneath it. He follows me past the camera crew and out onto the sidewalk of Ocean Drive.

The fuse has been lit, and now, I'm simply waiting for it to blow.