“Wow,” Lacey says, blinking at me. “You know a lot about rocket science.”
I shut my eyes at her inane statement, then open them and say, “That’s because I’m an astrophysicist.”
The astrology “expert” (and I’m using that term lightly) seems to be the first one of the three geniuses to figure out who I am. “Wait, if you’re Dr. Williams, why are you masquerading as a male model?”
Don’t be rude. Don’t be rude. Even though she’s most likely the worst person on the planet, you’re here trying to win fans for NASA. “Because … the staff here wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to explain who I was.”
Hal’s face fills with panic. “Well, we’ll need to get you up here with us, then, Dr. Williams.”
I nod at him. “Sounds good.”
Lacey, the other show host, laughs awkwardly, before saying, “What a crazy mix-up! Can you believe it?”
“No,” Hal answers, still chuckling even though his eyes say he’s going to kill someone. “Why don’t we take a quick commercial break so we can bring out another chair for our esteemed guest?”
“Why don’t we?” Lacey says. “We’ll be right back in a couple of minutes with astrophysicist, and part-time fashion model, Dr. Ben Williams from NASA. Don’t go anywhere.”
Seven
Serafina
“What did you do with my model?” I hiss at Ben Williams as soon as he’s seated next to me.
He rolls his eyes. “Obviously I murdered him and stuffed his body in the closet so I could make my lifelong dream of appearing on national television as a complete ass come true.”
Before I can slay him with a witty comeback, Lacey waves her hands frantically to shut me up. Then she turns to the camera and gushes, “Welcome back to Wake Up America! In case you’re just joining us, we have astrophysicist Dr. Ben Williams on today, here to talk about NASA’s Earth Two project. But before we get to Dr. Williams, Serafina Lopez, creator of the smashing Live for Your Star Sign app, is going to give us a fashion-forward look for your star sign.”
Hal continues, “We had a surprise model in the form of Dr. Williams here. Tell us, Ben, are you really a Gemini?”
“I have no idea.”
“According to our research, you are,” Lacey hurries to say. “You’d think you’d know that, being a rocket scientist and all.”
Dr. Grumpy Pants pauses, then slowly explains, “Science is the systematic, logical, and relentless pursuit of knowledge to help us better understand the universe and all things in it. Astrology is the pursuit of unsuspecting people’s money through trickery, predictions so vague they could apply to anyone in any given location, and blatant insensitivity to empirical evidence.” He glances at me, then turns back to Lacey. “For you to presume I should possess the knowledge of which utterly irrelevant category I land in based on my date of birth is about as useful as knowing which house I’d fit into at Hogwarts. It’s meaningless. It’s nothing more than a party game.”
“A party game?” I blurt out. “I’ll have you know that the practical use of astrology dates back to the third millennium BC. It is rooted in the calendrical system as a predictor of seasonal shifts and even helped drive the development of modern-day astronomy.”
“Please, that’s like saying the first grunt from an Australopithecus is responsible for modern literature.”
“Australo-what-a-cus?” Hal asks, hamming it up for the audience.
“Australopithecus — the first ancestor of man.”
I jump in, righteous indignation bubbling in my chest. “I would argue that the first grunt from an Australopithecus is the origin of modern literature and speech.”
“You’d be wrong. Just because ancient astrologers looked into the sky, doesn’t mean they had the first clue what they were seeing.” He gives me a satisfied smile that I’m tempted to slap off his face. Then, turning away from me as if I’ve been dismissed, he leans closer to Lacey. He smiles at her and shrugs his eyebrows in a sleazy fashion. “What’s your sign? Can I buy you a drink?”
Lacey doesn’t seem to gather that he’s being facetious because she winks back and answers, “How about if you take me for a ride on your rocket ship?”
“Okay, there, Lacey,” Hal laughs nervously. “We don’t want to get sued for sexual harassment.”
“Then Dr. Ben shouldn’t have worn those pants,” Lacey says.
The audience laughs appreciatively, and one woman even calls out, “Stand up and show us your rocket ship again!” This of course leads to more hilarity.
Dr. Jerkface grins, before instructing, “Eyes up here, ladies.”
Oh great, now they’ve burst into applause and are hooting. How did this become the Dr. Ben show? I need to take back control of this segment before I lose the viewers’ interest in my app. So, I do the only thing I can think of. I stand up to draw attention to myself and loudly say, “If you’ll start the music again, I’d like to introduce Cancer!”
The mystical flute soundtrack I chose for this segment starts to play as a fifty-something model with long silver hair and rose-colored sunglasses sashays out. She’s wearing a flowing batik-patterned summer dress, “Our celestial hippy chick likes to be comfortable while showcasing her innate psychic abilities. Just don’t cross her or she might pinch you like the crab from her astrological symbol.”
Lacey gushes, “I would so wear that dress! I love how you paired it with sandals that lace up the calves. Really chic.”
“Cancer thrives while displaying their carefree fashion sense,” I tell her brightly.
“No, they don’t,” Dr. Jerky McIHateHimFace mutters. “Because that’s not a thing.”
“Yeah, it is,” I tell him as my Cancer model finishes her walk. When she’s offstage, I announce, “Leo is the royalty of the zodiac.” My model is in her twenties, and she has bright orange curls that are slightly teased around her head like a lion’s mane. She’s wearing a gold lamé evening gown that only has one strap, the other shoulder is completely bare. “Leos love to strut their stuff, so if this is your star sign, going bold with your fashion is going to help bring you to your best life.”
“I doubt that very much,” Dr. Ben grumbles. “I can tell you for a fact I wouldn’t be living my best life in these ridiculous banana pants.”
When my Leo model reaches the end of the catwalk and walks back toward us, Hal growls like a lion while gesturing with his hands like he’s the aforementioned cat about to pounce. “Rooooooar! I like that one. She looks like a queen!”
“Who’s getting sued for sexual harassment now?” Lacey says with a phoney smile. I’m starting to wonder if Hal and Lacey actually like each other. I’m guessing a good deal of their success as a hosting duo is based on discord as it keeps everyone on their toes. Even so, I would absolutely hate to work with someone I couldn’t stand on a regular basis. Talk about upsetting my sense of balance.
The highpoint of the show for me is when Charley comes out in her red dress and animal print pumps. She struts like she was born to the catwalk and I can tell that she’s really feeling her power.