Page 34 of The Goat in the Bedroom
Gryff grinned for the first time in the whole conversation. “You're the loser.”
“Your face is a loser.” I settled onto the couch next to him, stealing a handful of the almonds he was snacking on. “What if we invited everyone to something that would actually be goodfor filming? Like that yoga in the park thing I keep seeing flyers for?”
“You want them to film us doing yoga in public?”
“Why not? It's outdoors, it's very LA lifestyle, and Sean and Ren would probably love it. Plus we could actually have a proper conversation without worrying about loud music. And remember how fun goat yoga was?”
“You did not find a goat yoga class, did you?”
“This is just regular yoga.”
“We are not adopting goats just to take to this class.”
“Spoilsport.”
I grabbed my phone and pulled up Sean's contact. “I'm texting Sean and Ren now. You text Sloane and make nice with her.”
Want to try yoga in the park this week? Very LA of us. Fair warning: documentary crew will probably want to film.
SEAN
OMG YES. Ren and I have been meaning to try that. And we're going to be on FlixNChill?? This is so exciting.
Thursday? There's a session at Griffith Park at 4 p.m.
Perfect. Can't wait.
“Sean's in,” I announced. “He seems thrilled about the filming part.”
“Of course he is. He's got that personality that was made for cameras.”
On Thursday the documentary crew arrived early to set up, and Sloane seemed genuinely pleased with the setting.
“This is exactly the kind of content we need,” she said, adjusting her sunglasses. “Very authentic, very aspirational lifestyle.”
Sean arrived with perfectly coordinated athletic wear and the kind of yoga mat that probably cost more than my monthly coffee budget. His enthusiasm was infectious as he waved at the camera crew like they were old friends.
“This is so cool,” he said, setting up his mat next to mine. “I've always wanted to be on a reality show.”
Ren appeared moments later, looking significantly less excited about the filming aspect. He'd positioned himself carefully at the edge of our group, far enough from the main camera angle that he'd be barely visible in most shots.
“You're not camera shy, are you?” I asked him quietly as we settled into our starting positions.
“I've spent plenty of time in front of them,” he said, but there was something guarded in his expression. “But I don't want to make this about me.”
How interesting and strange.
The yoga instructor, a woman named Dharma who had the kind of serene energy that made you immediately trust her even if she did tell us to put our worries in a bubble and blow them away, guided us through a flow that was challenging enough to be engaging but not so difficult that we couldn't maintain conversation during the easier poses.
“So,” Sean said during a particularly long warrior pose hold, “how's the roommate situation working out? Living with your best friend in a new city?”
Sean's tone was casual, but I caught him glancing toward the camera crew. Why did I have the feeling Sloane had planted that question?
“It's great,” Gryff said, though there was something slightly strained in his voice. “Very... comfortable.”
“Comfortable,” Sean repeated, like the word held some hidden meaning. “That's important.”
We transitioned into downward dog, and I found myself thinking about that word choice. Comfortable. It was accurate, but it also felt insufficient somehow. Living with Gryff was comfortable, but it was also energizing and grounding and a dozen other things that were harder to articulate.
