Page 25 of The Goat in the Bedroom
“Perfect. That's exactly the vibe we want, real life, not staged. Harry, let's start with some establishing shots of the space, then we'll do the interview on the couch.”
For the next hour, they filmed us doing mundane domestic tasks like making coffee, discussing whose turn it was to do dishes, arguing about what to watch on the enormous TV Chris had insisted on including with the house.
“This is great,” Sloane said, reviewing footage on her camera. “You two have such natural chemistry as roommates. It really comes through on film.”
Something about the way she said “roommates” made me glance at Gryff. He gave me a shrug. This was a dance we’d done so many times before.
“Yep. Friends and roommates. It works really well for us.”
“Now let's do some individual interviews,” Sloane continued. “Gryff, we'll start with you. Artie, if you don't mind giving us some space?”
I retreated to the kitchen, ostensibly to start dinner but actually to give them privacy. Through the open doorway, I could hear Sloane asking questions about Gryff's adjustment to LA, his goals for the season, his thoughts on living with a friend.
“And how's the roommate situation working out?” Sloane asked. “It must be nice to have someone you're so comfortable with.”
“Yeah, it's been great,” Gryff replied. “Artie makes everything feel more like home.”
“You two seem very close. How long have you been friends?”
“Since high school. She's... she's important to me.”
Something in his tone made me look up from the vegetables I was chopping, but I couldn't see his face from this angle.
“Any challenges with the living arrangement? Conflicts over space, different schedules, dating lives?”
There was a pause before Gryff answered. “No major conflicts. We're both pretty focused on our careers right now.”
“Right, of course. And Artie's pursuing Olympic dreams while you're starting your professional football career. That must create some interesting dynamics.”
“We support each other. That's what friends do.”
When it was my turn for the individual interview, Sloane's questions felt more personal than I'd expected.
“You're training for the Olympics while living with one of the most eligible bachelors in professional football,” she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. “That must be... distracting.”
“Not really,” I said, confused by the question. “Gryff's my best friend. We're both athletes, so we understand each other's schedules and priorities.”
“Of course. And you're both openly bisexual, which must create a unique understanding between you.”
“I guess? I mean, we've never really talked about it in those terms.”
“No? You don't discuss your dating lives, your attractions, what you're looking for in relationships?”
The questions were making me uncomfortable in a way I couldn't pinpoint. “We talk about everything, but we're just friends.”
“Just friends,” Sloane repeated, making a note on her tablet. “And you're not dating anyone currently?”
“No, I'm focused on training right now.”
“What about Gryff? Is he seeing anyone?”
“You'd have to ask him.” I did not like where this was going.
“I'm asking you. As his roommate and closest friend, you must have insight into his romantic life.”
“I don't really think about Gryff's romantic life,” I said, which wasn’t true. We talked about it, commiserating when it went wrong and how to make it better. “We're roommates, not... I don't know, whatever you're implying.”
“I'm not implying anything. Just trying to understand the dynamic between you.”
