Page 71 of Wild Card
THIRTY-EIGHT
Tobias
Now that I’velearned my infamous sex tape is the result of a leak and not a hack, I want justice. I feel like my co-star and her publicist think that we should all just put this behind us, forgive and forget. Move on. But the tape cost me a lot—the relationship I’d been building with Scarlett before this, a good portion of my dignity, and temporarily, my sanity when I decided to hop on a motorcycle in the middle of the season to escape it all.
I can’t lay all of that at her door. I made my own decisions, both to film the video and to hop on the bike. But her using me to increase her visibility and fame while she was releasing her own makeup line is unforgivable. Her selling it to the tabloid to make an extra buck on top of it all? More than I can swallow. So the idea that I’m just going to pretend like none of it ever happened just to make it go away? Hellfuckingno.
While it was a humiliating experience to have it revealed in this way and have way too many people holding unflattering angles of my ass in the palm of their hand, I also feel like people like me shouldn’t have to be ashamed of the fact we’re normal people. Sometimes we make a sex tape. Sometimes we take nudes. We like to have the same kind of fun as everyone fucking else, and that doesn’t make our personal lives any less personal. Doesn’t give people the right to access that just because I play ball a few nights a week.
So I told my publicist to put out the truth. That we investigated and found out it was leaked for fame and profit, and I was an unwilling participant in the whole scheme. That I’m denouncing the tabloid that publicized the tape. I’d held back on the idea of suing either of them or pursuing it further. That is until I talk to my father.
“You can’t be fucking serious with this, Tobias. This was almost out of the news cycle. They were focused on your injury and your recovery, and instead you what? Fucking drag it all back out into the light.”
“Did you read the statement or just get mad that one exists?”
“Oh, I fucking read it. You sound like a fucking crybaby who can’t handle fame. Looks like some woman duped you because you’re too stupid to know better. The statement doesn’t make you look better. It makes us look worse.”
“Us, eh?”
“Us. This family. I wish you’d fucking think of your brother and sister when you do this shit.”
“Easton and Madison both know about it and supported my decision to come out against it. So I think there might be one person you’re concerned about.”
“I’m concerned about this whole fucking family and what your off-field shit means for us. Jesus Christ, Tobias. Even Xander has his shit together these days. His agent fucked him over royally, but do you see him whining about it in the papers?”
“He’s suing his agent for a fuck ton of money and trying to destroy his whole business. He can’t talk more than that because they’re in legal proceedings. If he could, I’m sure he’d be very vocal about his agent profiting off his name and image while he blackmailed him and his ex-wife.”
“Fuck. You boys just can’t take your licks these days. Just sit it out and let things roll in and out. You don’t need to have an opinion or make a statement on everything. You’re out there to play a fucking game.”
“You’re right, Dad. I am out there to play a fucking game. Which is a lot fucking harder to do when everyone wants to talk about what I look like fucking naked because someone I trusted released a personal video. I might be to blame for fucking trusting the wrong people. That’s on me, but standing up and saying I don’t want to see that happen to other people? That seems fair.”
He lets out a disgusted chortle, scoffing at the idea I have any sort of say in these matters.
“Next thing you know you’ll be following Xander into the court system.”
“You know, I hadn’t given it a lot of thought. But after talking to you, I might just sue the tabloid for publicizing the video. Why should they fucking profit off my cock instead of me?”
“Are you out of your goddamn mind, boy? Did I teach you nothing or are you just too fucking stupid to know better?”
“If I’m so fucking stupid, why do you keep talking to me?”
“Because you’re my fucking legacy and you’re supposed to be better than this. A better player and a better fucking son. I wish I knew where the fuck I went wrong with you.”
“Probably the day I learned to think for myself. Goodnight.Dad.”
I toss the phone onto the counter of the kitchen. Every time I talk to that fucking man, I want to fucking punch shit by the end of it, and I can get through almost anything without feeling that kind of rage.
When I look up though, I notice a cake sitting inside a domed cake stand perfectly frosted with “Happy First Day Back” with a little 50-yard line and green frosting grass on the edge of it, and I can’t help but smile.
“Spitfire?” I yell out, hoping she’s within shouting distance.
Less than a second later she appears dressed in some kind of fifties housewife outfit complete with an apron.
“Was already headed out when I heard you raising your voice on the phone. Everything okay?”
“What? Oh uh…” My mind goes blank. That’s the power this woman has over me. I forget my asshole father and everything else I’d just been pissed about. “Did we have some sort of bonus content situation I forgot about?”
“Ha! No. I was filming an episode until it got loud in the background. If you don’t want them to know I film here, probably shouldn’t talk so loudly.”
