Mutual Understanding

The penthouse bedroom was a mess the next morning.

Sheets, pillows, the comforter, all scattered to every corner. The bedframe had collapsed. The walls had been damaged by what looked like someone’s back being slammed into it. And then next to it was a similar mark, only made by someone much larger.

“Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.”

Every step Jules took was pain. He had a makeshift cast wrapped around his hips and a towel wrapped around his bare shoulders.

“You… beautiful… muscle bimbo.” He leaned forward and nearly collapsed onto a dining room chair. “You’ve ground my hips into a fine powder.”

Kristina inched out of the master bedroom wearing one of Jules’s shirts and a towel wrapped around her waist. She had to pull herself along the floor to make any headway. “Your hips? I still can’t feel my legs, you insensitive stud! Pass me a water bottle.”

Jules fumbled around on the dining room table and flung two bottles at the woman crawling on the floor. Then he started guzzling down two of his own.

“How do we want to play this?” Jules gasped between bottles. “Christian will make some desperate plea for you to play the Tell the Truth card. He’ll butter you up the entire time you’re visiting.”

Kristina had to flip onto her back so she could drink her bottle. Once it was emptied and crushed, she said, “I’ll have to use it. Bruce’ll push for it too since it would be good TV. And that’ll be it for you.”

Jules ran his hand down his face. She was right. It all circled around that realization he’d had the moment he’d become one of the final four bachelors. “You’ll still be playing out that losing hand. …You think they’ll let you get away with choosing no one?”

“Not if I want them to put me in that romance movie they promised,” Kristina groaned. She opened the second bottle and shoved it in her mouth, splashing herself with some of the water.

Jules cracked open more bottles and chugged. “Why a romance movie? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you could crush an action movie. You’ve got the build for it.”

Kristina drained her bottle. “Easier way of breaking in.”

A phone kept buzzing on the other side of the table. Jules flopped his arm towards it and pulled the phone to him. He also pulled the table to him, with him and the chair toppling to the ground. The remaining water bottles, a six pack of energy drinks, and some healthy snacks room service had sent all slid into his face while the table itself crashed onto his hips.

A guttural groan escaped Jules’s lips. His head craned over to look at Kristina’s phone. “It’s Diane.” He slid the phone across the floor to her. “She’s reminding us that checkout is in three hours.”

“Three hours?” Kristina crawled over to the table and pushed it off of Jules with a single hand. Then she flopped on top of him, passing him one of the energy drinks. “Now, what do you think we can get done in three hours?”

“Is that before or after we eat something to refuel?”

Kristina opened the energy drink she gave Jules and poured it down his throat. “Before.”

Jules winced from the aftertaste of all those ingredients that he’d never be able to pronounce. “Alright. We can arrange for some room service delivery. Liquids and fruits.” How fast acting was this stuff?! His heart was already going a mile a minute. “Do me a favor though.”

“Yeah?”

Jules pulled her down and kissed her on the cheek. “Tell them to bring an ice bag.”

----

Three hours later on the dot, both the bachelorette and the bachelor had returned to the lobby of the hotel.

The makeup and costume crew had to pull a minor miracle to get them looking presentable. Neither Jules nor Kristina were dressed in any kind of clothes that Bruce would’ve preferred. Kristina had to be given a second ‘I Love NY’ shirt as her first had been torn off the night before, and Jules had to be propped up as his legs seemed unable to bear his weight.

And to put a cherry on top, an ice bag had been duct taped to his groin.

Bruce was at the receptionist’s desk having a conniption. “How?!” he gasped as the bill unfurled from the desk, onto the floor, through the front door, and out into the street. “How is it this much?!”

Jules shared one last goodbye with Kristina before the two parted, the cameras following her out the door.

With an audible creak, Jules fell forward and crashed out on the floor. He was so tired, his hips elevated by the ice bag.

As Bruce continued to rage at the bill being presented to him, Elena kneeled besides Jules. From her pantsuit jacket she pulled out a ticket. Jules saw that he had a flight back to the mansion waiting for him later that afternoon. Just like his flight here, they’d gotten the cheapest economy class tickets money could buy.

But first, he had to film a number of confessionals they could play over the hometown visit.

----

Jules kept the half-melted bag of ice in his lap as he went through a marathon session with the interviewers. It was hard trying to focus on giving them the answers they’d liked, to the point they asked him to re-answer some of the questions.

“Did you have a good night with Kristina?”

He folded his hands. “A gentleman never kisses and tells.” But he couldn’t hide the smile on his face.

“Are you worried about Kristina’s Tell the Truth card?”

This was one Jules been asked to give a punchier answer for. He’d tried to tell them he wasn’t worried. Then he’d tried to tell them there was no use worrying about it. Now he was on his third try and Jules realized he was being set up for.

His downfall episode. It was something that reality shows did. Showing a player think that they’re in control, or that they think they’re safe. And getting a clip of them saying so in order to dunk on them when they’re shown the door. He could see the light at the end of the tunnel, and he knew that it was the headlights of an oncoming truck. 

All he could do was let honesty do dishonest work.

“I’m not worried about her card. We have an understanding. And it’s not like she’s going to listen to Christian. ...Right?”