Challenge: A day with Jay on the TV set he worked on between Rebooted and Season 4. It can be a typical day, or an unusual one.
He smiled wryly at the camera, "You could be the FIRST winner of our very own Gauntlet of Humility! Just sign up here at our website," He pointed to the air above his head—where the tech team would post the logo. "Three easy steps, and you might be 5 thousand dollars richer." He cackled, raising his eyebrows and making a show of his shoulders shaking. "Or not!" Behind him on the obstacle course, a safety-suit clad man ran out of the open door and swung across the four different ropes but slipped on his way on to the spinning log. With a painful sounding thwap he landed on the padded mat.
Jay looked directly into the camera guy's face—Alex looked a little weird-ed out, he didn't like people looking at him. Hence the cameraman job. "Come try your luck!"
"And cut!" Alex pulled a lever and there was a clicking, revving sound and the lights dimmed, the flashing glitter dying and the terrible pink fading in the background. The producer—a tall man with graying black hair and a pair of hot pink, star shaped sunglasses—hopped out of the tech booth and clapped enthusiastically. "Great! Great! So good, the watching world eats this stuff up!" Jay laughed uncomfortably and rubbed his wrist, "Thanks Mr. Gan. Uh, just doing my best." Mr. Gan applauded and shook himself out, his odd way of stretching. "Yes, yes, your best is the best." Then he snapped his fingers, arm high in the air, and a nervous teen with pimples all over his face and watery brown eyes hurried over. He was holding a glass of lemonade like it was the most precious thing in the world.
He offered it to the producer and his hands shook just enough to be noticeable. Mr. Gan cleared his throat, "Excuse me?!" The boy looked like a rabbit, pale hair and all quivering. "Yes sir?" "You forgot the umbrella!" The boy's face turned white. He set the glass down and scrambled out the staff door presumably to the kitchen, Jay was too preoccupied to stick around. He nodded to Lucy and Herman as he walked by and then Alex as he trudged to his dressing room. He pushed the door open, the glittering yellow star winking at him and paused.
Anna was sitting in his chair, in front of his mirror and was frozen, her eyes locked on to him, a red tube of lip gloss half way to her already blood red lips. He sighed, "Anna." She smiled apologetically, "Jay." Her hands moved like lightning, snatching up two sticks of eyeliner, a fat green tube of mascara, a hair brush, three cans of extra stay hairspray, a packet of breath mints, two eye-shadow clasps, a handful of eyebrow pencils and a bottle of bronzer and shoving it all in her purse. "I'm gone, bye." She hurried to the door pecked him on the cheek and slipped under his arm—her yellow ponytail brushing his skin.
He rolled his eyes, smudged the lipstick mark with the back of his hand and slumped down into the warm "just vacated" seat. She always had to come in when he was gone didn't she. He grumbled at the rearranged vanity and thumped his head against it, stage makeup clattering every which way. Sure, she always said she was going to get his job one day and this room would be hers but coming in every other day? He thumped his forehead again and the bottles and clasps jumped. He scratched his head irritably, he hated the company gel—it made his head itch like crazy.
Jay flopped backward and groaned and moaned for no reason. It felt great. He went limp and his head lolled around. He stayed there for a few seconds but it wasn't very satisfying so he whined some more and flopped around. He heard the door creak open a little more and realized he had left it open. He was in too bad a mood to care. "Bad day?" Sammy was as unenthusiastic as always, his voice enough to depress anyone, even the most cheerful of people. Sammy grumbled. "I don't see what you have to be upset about." Jay turned around to snap at him but even though this was Sammy he couldn't help grinning seeing big, gloomy, dark Sammy wearing the puffy bright pink safety-suit. It bulged at his ankles and wrists because in order to get him a large enough size they had got him one that was way too long.
Looking at Sammy in costume always cheered him up. It was the guys one redeeming quality. He. Walked. Like. The whole of everybody-ever's problems and sorrows rested upon his shoulders, he kind of waddled, his back hunched over at an extreme angle from spot to spot to spot and basked in his own little pool of misery. At the moment he was staggering to the clothes rack, the woe of life's worry seemingly too much for him, "At least you get to host, I have to pretend I can't even do a hand stand even though I'm the only person ever to have completed the Gauntlet of Humility. I wish they would just let me compete and win that 5 thousand dollars." He paused in his moaning, "Then I wouldn't have to do this stupid job. I could buy a row boat and..." Jay didn't catch anymore as Sammy's head disappeared under the tent of pink, and a moment later he turned away as quick as he could—Sammy didn't have the nicest body to look at.
Jay ran his fingers through his hair and scratched and itched and scratched and itched his face and neck and scalp and ears. He ignored the muffled whining from the clothes rack and rested his face against the cool marble vanity.
Why did he still do this?
As if to answer him the door opened again and Jill stuck her head in, clipboard in hand and head phones around her neck. Well, to be honest Jill being there made it a little better but—"Hey, Jay, the seats are filling up pretty quick and we're going live in fifteen minutes." She smiled at him and he grinned back. "Uh, you might want to fix your hair." He looked into the mirror, his whole face was red from the itching, and his red-ish mop of hair was pushed in every direction, the gel making it sticky. He looked back to the door to respond but she had already slipped out shutting it so quietly he hadn't heard, like she always did. He deflated. Sammy emerged, decked out in blue boots and jump suit. "Are you ready? I'll never be but it's not like I have a choice, I need to get paid and it's not like anyone else is going to wear this stupid rubber onesie is it..."
Ten minutes, half a jar of clear, slimy gel later and Jay was out on the stage, Jill checking his microphone. She tucked the wire beneath his collar and straitened the front of his shirt. He stared out into the audience, Lucy and Herman and Tim and Bert and Ryan and Zeke and Mandy all paid to clap and cheer. Then he looked to the genuinely excited faces of fans and returning players.
This was why he stayed.
He took a deep breath and watched as Jill scurried off the stage into the back. The clicking, revving lights came up, full blast and had he not done this a hundred times before he would have been blinded. His heart hammered in his chest and butterflies flew like crazy in his stomach and he knew, this was why he stayed.