Scripted Reality: Formerly I Wanna Get Laid by Kade Read online

  Scripted Reality

  Nikki Ashton

  Victoria Johns

  Contents

  Untitled

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Untitled

  Scripted Reality

  Nikki Ashton & Victoria Johns

  Copyright 2020 by Nikki Ashton & Victoria Johns

  All Rights Reserved ©

  Scripted Reality

  Published by Nikki Ashton & Victoria Johns

  The rights of Nikki Ashton as the Author of the work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright and Related Rights Act 2000

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form or binding or cover that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. A reviewer may quote brief passages for review purposes only

  This book may not be resold or given away to other people for resale. Please purchase this book from a recognised retailer. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Scripted Reality

  First published March 2017

  All Rights Reserved ©

  Cover design – Eleanor Lloyd-Jones of Shower of Schmidt

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical event, real people or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, unless used with specific permission, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, places or persons living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  This book is dedicated to everyone who reads it, and to all those who helped make it possible.

  A good friend knows all your best stories

  A best friend has lived them with you

  A great friend helps you to write them

  Prologue

  Kade Sutton

  I looked up at the departure board and watched as each destination flashed up. The plan was to leave, go and start a new life somewhere. Somewhere there were no memories or pain. And that was about as far as I’d got with my plan. Get on a bus and leave.

  “Do you know what time the next bus to Michigan is, please?” An old woman laid her hand on my arm. “I can’t see the board too well.”

  Looking at her paper-thin skin, smooth and as pale as alabaster, my throat felt scratchy. I had no idea why but seeing her with her little case sat at her feet and a walking cane in her hand made me want to fucking cry. Maybe it was because I’d never known the love of a grandmother and she looked kind—like she’d have wrapped me up in her arms and given me candy if I’d been her grandkid.

  I glanced up at the board. “It’s in twenty-five minutes, ma’am at departure gate 3.”

  “Oh my,” she gasped. “That soon. I’d better go get in line. Thank you and you have a safe trip, now.”

  “I will,” I replied giving her a tight smile as the shards of shame inside of me ripped at my chest.

  “Going somewhere nice?”

  Did it matter? Wherever I went I would be alone and deservedly so. Looking up at the board again, the destinations swam before my eyes.

  Chicago

  New York

  San Francisco

  Cincinnati

  Michigan

  With no idea which to choose, I considered how much money I had—a little short of three hundred and twenty-five dollars. It was money my buddy had given to me, anxious to see me gone. It probably wouldn’t get me a ticket too far. As I stared at the names, I remembered my mom mentioning something about where my dad had gone to college. It was business school if I remembered correctly from the few times that she talked about him.

  “Yeah,” I said, turning back to the old lady. “Starting the next part of my life.”

  “Well good luck, young man.” She patted my arm. “I hope that everything turns out just fine for you.”

  She slowly walked away, leaning on her stick with one hand and dragging her case with the other. Her journey was most probably taking her to family, or maybe even friends because she smiled a lot and seemed happy to stand in line for twenty-five minutes to board a bus. Whereas I felt like the minute I stepped on board, I’d be closing the door on what had been a good life. That was a lie, because that door had closed when I’d been selfish, and my actions had had consequences.

  The life I’d had was gone and now I had to go and put everything behind me. I needed to try and stop the nightmares that plagued me day and night. I’d lied to the old lady too because wherever I ended up wouldn’t be a start of something new. Life would continue as it had the last few months because I wasn’t stupid enough to think the ghosts and demons wouldn’t follow me. They’d be there every step of the way, because of what I’d done, because of the path I’d taken.

  Hitching my backpack onto my shoulder, I started toward the ticket booth. My destination decided. Whether I was going to a better life or not, I had no clue, but I had a feeling it was where I was meant to be.

  One

  Meredith Hennessey

  “So, there it is, Meredith,” the station boss of RTVN, Roddy Devenish, smarmed. “You give us a hit or you’re out, baby. We can’t keep carrying you.”

  I fisted my hands by my thighs and took a deep breath. The bastard wouldn’t know a hit if it lurched up and kicked the fucking half a million-dollar veneers, from his stupid, plastic face. He had no idea what went on at this damn studio. How could he when he was never there? He was always elsewhere with his scabby cock in some dirty bitch’s pussy.

  Roddy Devenish was the son of Milland Devenish, one of the richest movie moguls in Hollywood, and he had propensities for sex and coke, and not necessarily in that order. Milland had thought that buying his son a TV studio would distract him, keep him occupied, but everyone knew the SOB was still visiting Maison Noire - a local sex club - regularly, and didn’t have his eye on the game. That was why the fucker had me in his office, blaming me for poor ratings and the fact that the studio was losing money. I had the job title of Producer and Head Scheduler for the station; in truth the damn buck stopped with me.<
br />
  “Maybe we need to think about the genus of the programs we produce,” I replied with a tight smile. “Consider more serious programming?”

  Roddy gave me a look as though he were trying to shit and couldn’t.

  “Genus means genre, Roddy,” I explained.

  Nope, the stupid fucker was still looking like a constipated aardvark.

  “Type, Roddy. We need to think about changing the type of programs we produce.”

  “I’m not sure I get what you’re trying to say, Meredith.” He brushed at something on his slacks and let out a bored sigh.

  “I think we need to consider what our competitors are producing, CSTV just won a Critic’s Choice award for their serial drama about three generations of a military family. Maybe we should think about commissioning something more serious like that.”

  He gave me a smile that clearly said, ‘you’re a fucking woman who has no damn idea what she’s talking about’.

  “The clue is in our name, Meredith. RTVN: Reality TV Network.”

  He was right; I knew that, but fuck me, we’d done every possible reality TV program we could think of. Our lowest point had to have been, ‘Celebrity Bathroom Drop’, where a doctor examined the crap of celebrities and told us what they’d been eating and whether or not they were healthy. Not my finest fucking hour, I had to admit, especially when it had been dropped part-way through the first season. What Roddy had failed to tell the execs though, was that it had been his idea. An idea he and his friend, Charles Trent, MD, had come up with. The MD needed a quick dollar after being struck off for performing implant operations without the appropriate medical license, so Roddy had decided to help him out.

  “Listen,” he said impatiently. “The bottom line is you’ve not given me anything to argue your case with the execs. Your last three programs have bombed, sweetheart, and you know it.”

  “I think that’s unfair,” I replied, managing to keep my tone level. “I was only responsible for ‘Celebrity Dog Swap.’ The others were your idea.”

  Roddy shook his head and smiled. “No, Meredith, you’ll see it says Producer and Head Scheduler on your office door, not mine.”

  It was pointless arguing with the stupid dickwad. There was no way he’d admit to being responsible for the shit that we produced.

  “Okay,” I sighed. “I’ll get you your hit.”

  I pushed up from my chair and bent to retrieve my purse.

  “I don’t just want a hit, Meredith. I want a People’s Reality Award.”

  I stared and felt the urge to throat punch him. We had no chance with the budget I had to work with, not when we were up against KBA. They were based in Kansas and funded by one of America’s richest men. The Financier Edgar Ormanstein was worth billions and was number nine on the Forbes 100 list. Every damn show they made was slick, professional and super popular.

  “Roddy…” I started.

  He held up his hand and glowered at me. “I don’t want your fucking excuses, Meredith. I want a fucking hit that gets me an award. I don’t give a shit what or who you do to get it–you can rent your pussy out to congress for all care–but I want that award for this network. The awards are in eight months.”

  “That’s impossible,” I yelled. “The list of nominees has to be finalized in six months. We’ll never be ready in time.”

  Roddy stood up and leaned across his desk, spittle forming at the corner of his sneering mouth.

  “So, move your fat ass out of my fucking office and get to work.”

  He strode around his desk and went to his drink’s cabinet, and turning his back, pretty much dismissed me.

  I walked down the hallway of the station offices, holding back the scream that was bubbling in my throat. I had five months at most, to broadcast something and get high enough viewing figures to even get past the first round of nominations. The brainstorming of ideas for programs usually took a month of the whole damn process. Shit, I was fucked.

  At forty-nine, if I lost this job, no other network would touch me. Everyone was looking for young, pretty and tight assed these days. While my two hours in the gym four times a week ensured the tight ass, I was not young, and I was not pretty. I was attractive, with a decent body and some damn good hair that I’d paid a fortune to have stitched into my scalp, but I was almost fifty and there was no getting away from that fact. I couldn’t even lie, seeing as my driver’s license had been found and posted on social media by some generous member of the general public. Yeah, I was definitely fucked in every way.

  “Daisy!” I bawled at my assistant. “Get your damn ass in my office now and bring me a coffee and a drink.”

  It was the first thing I’d taught all my assistants- make sure there is always a bottle of Dewar’s in the filing cabinet. That was how Bethany, my last assistant had lost her job. There had been no damn whiskey when I needed it.

  “H-here you go, Meredith,” Daisy stammered just three minutes later.

  “Get the production team together,” I snapped, snatching the tumbler from her fingers. “I want them in the meeting room in five minutes. We have to come up with a fucking award-winning show that’s ready to go in the next few weeks.”

  Daisy nodded and scribbled it down onto her pad.

  “Can you not remember that?” I cried. “Do you have to write fucking everything down?”

  She closed the pad, stuck the pen into the messy bun on her head and then pushed her black framed glasses up her nose.

  “And get some contacts.” I pointed at her glasses. “Those things make you look like damn Waldo.”

  “Y-yes, Meredith.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” I screeched, knocking back the last of my whiskey. “And where the fuck is my coffee?”

  Daisy turned tail and ran out of the office, leaving me wondering how the hell I was going to save not only my job, but my damn reputation too.

  Two

  Daisy Ingles

  As I let the door of the station offices slam behind me, I heaved a great sigh of relief. One more day down, only one hundred and ninety more to go. That was the time limit I’d given myself to save up the cash I needed to give to my parents. I’d calculated that by then I would have enough money to put a huge dent in the cost of my Mom’s medication for quite some time. I also hoped that there’d be enough that I might even persuade Pop to take them both on a trip to Europe, like they’d always wanted. So, once I reached my target, well then, I’d be free to leave and go back to work at the animal shelter-a place I loved working. It was a place where I was loved by the animals and respected by my colleagues. Not at all like working here, or more specifically working for Meredith Hennessey. In fairness working for Meredith was like working for an animal anyway; an untrained dog that desperately needed house training. I just had to keep telling myself it was a means to an end.

  Mom had had chronic kidney disease for years until finally, a little over a year ago, we got a donor match and she got her transplant. It had been a huge relief to all of us even though she still had to take medication for the rest of her life. After years of huge medical bills though, Pop could no longer afford their health insurance. It had barely paid the bills anyways, so already financially crippled, they’d had to sell our old family home and move into my tiny two-bedroomed apartment with me. My older brother, Heath, had tried to help, but he was a State Trooper with only four years’ service and a wife and a year-old baby to support. Anyways, Mom and Pop would never take money from baby Allie’s mouth. They loved their granddaughter and wanted her to have the best. Heath and his wife, Caitlin, had offered them a home with them, but that would have meant Mom and Pop sleeping in the living room. My apartment had, therefore, been the best option. Lucky for me, my love life was non-existent; no one wants their parents in earshot of any make out sessions.

  Not long after Mom’s transplant, I saw the vacancy for Meredith’s assistant advertised, so I applied, not thinking for one minute I’d get the job. Apparently ‘I was best of a bad lo
ad of shit.’ Plus, word had got around the industry that she was a damn bitch, and no one wanted to work for her, so I got the job. A job that meant I could save money and help out my family. In a little over six months, I would have the money and I would be free.

  As I walked a few steps down the sidewalk, my eyes searched until I spotted him—Kade. My face broke into a grin and I pulled the bag from my oversized purse, walking purposefully towards him. When I was only a couple of feet away, Brody let out a friendly bark and jumped up from his position next to Kade. As Brody’s wagging tail hit him, he looked up and spotted me, returning my smile. His startling blue eyes sparkled beneath his scruffy beanie hat, his dark hair poking out from underneath.

  “Hey, Kade. Hey, Brody,” I greeted them both, bending to give Brody a scratch behind his floppy ears.

  “Hi, Daisy,” Kade said, pulling his old, dirty, grey coat closer around him. “You’re late today. Boss lady keep you in after school?”

  I giggled, pulled the sandwiches and cookies from the bag, and passed them to Kade. “Yeah,” I sighed. “She’s been pretty crazy today. I think she’s under pressure from her boss.”