Page 44 of Playing With Matches
“Welcome, Everyone. I want to tell you how excited Marco is to be here. It is Marco’s first big American show. Some of you may know Marco as the cover model for the international best selling romance novels. But what you don’t know about me, is that Marco is not just a model. Marco is a man. A man who, like all men, is also looking for love.”
He shoots the camera an imploring look, laying it on thick with the sad dog eyes. I look down. Beside me, Jackson’s hands are now clenched into fists.
“So who is ready to get started?” Marco asks. The cast claps and cheers.
The robot does its dance again, and the cameras zoom in on it. It starts to make chirping and buzzing noises like R2-D2 from Star Wars.
“What is that, my little friend? You say you have a match?” Marco hams it up, speaking to the robot. The robot in turn flashes a photo of Marco and then the small screen reverts to animated heart eyes. The robot shakes exuberantly.
“Well this is odd,” Marco announces. “It looks like Marco is up first! My little buddy Cupidbot is telling me he has a match forme.” Marco pats the robot and mugs at the camera. “I wonder who the Asswiper program is going to tell me is my soulmate, Cupidbot? Will it be the same woman who I cannot stop thinking about?”
The robot produces chirping noises and Jackson clenches his fists even tighter at Marco’s pronunciation of his app. He jumps to his feet.
“Cut!” Jackson yells, bursting from the tent.
Everyone turns to stare at us, but they continue filming. I follow behind
“Jackson,” I tap his shoulder, trying not to speak too loudly. “I don’t think you’re authorized to yell that?”
He ignores me, rushing forward onto the set, where he marches up to Marco.
“It’s A-I Swiper.Ay eye.” He pokes Marco in the chest as he over enunciates the letters, making his point. “AY. EYE. Not Ass. I didn’t give you exclusive use of my proprietary technology in order to be insulted!”
Marco rolls his eyes dramatically, shoves Jackson back, and Rob stands to yell, “Cut!”
“Why is thismanbeing such an ass?” Marco argues petulantly, affecting a ridiculous American accent when he says the word ass. “Here is what Marco say, I say ‘Aaayyssswiper.’”
Even when he tries to say it right, it still comes out sounding likeAaya-swiper.I can feel the tension rippling off Jackson in waves. He is seething.
“Okay, okay, you know what, this is nothing we can’t fix in post,” Rob says. “Let’s take it from ‘the woman I cannot stop thinking about?’ Jackson, Isla, can you two please make your way back to the tent?”
“We didn’t even do a profile on that douchebag, so how could he have a match?” Jackson mutters under his breath as we head back into the sweaty tent.
“We’re rolling again!” someone shouts, and on screen, Marco snaps back into character.
“So this is how the matchmaking ceremony works on the show,” Marco says. “Cupidbot here, who is powered by Asswiper, already knows who should go on a date. But we are not leaving the entire fate up to the robots.” He smiles at the camera and winks. “We humans have a vote, too.”
“Hmmm,” I say to Jackson. “I thought they were going to reveal the matches right off the bat, weren’t they?”
He nods, eyes narrowed.
“So how is this supposed to work exactly?” I ask. The techie hushes me as Marco goes on to explain.
“Everyone has a deck of cards with all the other contestants on it. And if they play their cards right today - that is, if we have a match, tomorrow they will get to go on a very special date, organized by the resort and thebeautifulmystic matchmaker, Isla Fairfax, herself. But what Marco is wondering right now, is who the computer has matched Marco up with. Could it be the person I hoped for?”
The robot makes a series of beeping noises and plays some animated hearts and fireworks on the screen. Jackson huffs beside me. Finally the screen displays a spinning card and the robot starts playing jackpot sounds. When the card stops spinning, I see it is a photo ofme,taken from my author site.
“Perfetto!” Marco claps. “Oh my God, Marco knew it was meant to be!”
The robot makes more noises, interrupting him.
“What’s that, Cupidbot? What do you say? I still have to open the envelope?” Marco feigns nervousness. “If she didn’t select me, too, we don’t get to go out on the date?”
The robot beeps and spins, and a series of lights shooting upwards direct our attention to the envelopes on the tray top. Marco picks up the biggest envelope and turns it over carefully. He shakes it next to his ear, as if he could discern the contents by listening.
A crew member holds up a sign encouraging the cast to clap and laugh, and everyone out there whoops it up.
In the tent, Jackson is still glowering at the screen. “What the fuck is happening? I thought we were just going to announce the matches during the first episode.”
