Ship It(8)

The very idea of having to sell myself makes my heart clench up in anxiety, but at the same time…Red Zone. What wouldn’t I do to get a role in Red Zone?

I’m considering that when there’s a knock on my trailer door, and Paula Greenhill climbs the steps to come in.

“Hello, boys.”

Paula is our terrifyingly intense publicist. I’ve only met her once, at a photo shoot for TV Guide’s “Hot New Fall Shows,” and something about her effortless confidence and tailored pantsuits freaked me out. Still does. Today she’s wearing dark red lipstick and has her black bobbed hair slicked back and tucked behind her ears in a look that screams I’m in charge here.

“We have great news!” She clasps her hands together excitedly.

Our showrunner Jamie Davies trails behind Paula—he’s the guy who invented Smokey and Heart in the first place, which gave us all our jobs. Jamie’s the kind of boss who tries to be chums with everyone, but I’m never quite sure where I stand with him. He’s got on the same backward Dodgers hat and crisp black Chuck Taylors he always wears, as well as a shaggy haircut that falls across his forehead and makes him look like a college student even though he must be in his forties. Today Jamie looks like a whipped dog, which can’t be good.

“Well, it’s news, anyway,” Jamie says, and Paula shoots him a look. “The numbers are in from last night,” he continues. “Point three.”

No wonder he looks miserable. “That’s not good,” I say.

“Yeah, no,” Jamie says, “the technical term is in the shitter.”

Paula takes over. “Now, we’re still waiting on digital and DVR numbers, so that will go up, but still, we need to do something. The Demon Heart audience, they’re young, they’re hard to reach. Our team is finding that they don’t respond to traditional marketing.”

“Damn millennials!” Rico says, giving me a shove. I know he’s just trying to lighten the mood, but I hate it when he draws attention to my age. He’s only eleven years older than me, but sometimes he acts like I’m still a kid and he’s Cary Grant. It’s annoying.

“So what’s that mean? What can we do?” I ask Paula.

“First of all, stop worrying.” She takes a seat on the couch across from us. Jamie continues to stand, nervously picking at some old tape stuck to the wall, barely paying attention. “We still have a couple weeks left until the finale. If we can build our ratings, I’d feel a lot better about your chances of a season two.”

“Oh, no problem, just grow our audience, seven months into the season? We’ll get right on that,” Jamie snarks from the corner.

Paula ignores him. “To do that, we need to capture people’s attention, get them excited about Demon Heart. I want the world to adore you guys—especially you, Forest. They already know Rico, but you’re a fresh face. Let’s get the internet to fall in love with you.”

“The internet’s new boyfriend,” Rico says with a wink.

“I don’t know about that—”

“No, that’s exactly right,” Paula says. “The first thing I want you to do is start tweeting.” Paula knocks on the window of my trailer and a young, hip-looking woman in an army jacket and high-waisted jeans, with curly hair flowing into her eyes, bounds into our space. This is officially too many people in my trailer at one time. “Forest, I want you to meet Caty Goodstein. After this, she’s gonna set you up with a Twitter account and teach you how to use it.”

My head spins. I’ve successfully avoided social media my entire career, why should I have to start now that I’ve actually already made it? Caty gives me a big toothy smile and holds up her giant iPhone, made even giant-er by a bright pink rubber case with bunny ears sticking up from it. “You ready to pop that social media cherry?”

“Not really,” I say.

“Well, get ready, because that’s only the start,” Paula says. “In addition to a big social push, we’re also doing a live tour. As soon as you’re wrapped shooting the finale, we’ll send you out. Three conventions in a row, with traditional media, digital media, online activation, and social integration throughout. It’s going to be an all-hands-on-deck straight-up media blitz leading up to the finale. I want viral tweets, I want your faces on the front page of BuzzFeed, I want you trending on Tumblr, I want everyone and their aunt sharing you on Facebook, whatever it takes. I want eyes on our show. Sound good?”

Sounds terrifying.

Rico claps his hands together. “Oh my god, I looove conventions!” he moans.

Jamie sighs, apparently feeling just as reticent as I am. “This isn’t Star Command, dude, these fans are different than you’re used to.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“Ignore him,” Rico whispers.

“It means Demon Heart fans are deranged,” Jamie says flatly.

“Stop it,” Paula tells him. “They pay your bills.”

“You don’t know what we deal with,” Jamie says. “You’re not getting their crazytalk on Twitter all day long.”

“Crazy is good, as long as they’re crazy for Demon Heart,” Paula says. “We need to engage them, turn them into advocates. This audience doesn’t want me telling them what to watch, they want to hear it from each other.” She turns to me and Rico and drills into us with her eyes. “The point of conventions is to get them talking. Your job is to be giffable. These convention fans are more important than any ad buy. It’s on you, now.”