FIRED AF!

Scene 58: AJ Gets Canned

EXT. VIETNAMESE NOODLE SHOP – DAY

The sun shines down on the pavement of the noodle shop parking lot. The lot is small and empty except for the single employee who steps out of the rear entrance from time to time, taking trash to the dumpster.

Steaming under the sun's rays is a Black Audi Q5, sitting alone in the middle of the quiet lot.

Two figures sit inside the car.

We ZOOM in on the car.

INT. BLACK AUDI Q5-DAY

A hand reaches for an iPhone 6, resting on the center console. The slender fingers are shaking as they reach to answer the now ringing phone.

We PAN up the arm to meet AJ, 35. A charismatic man; a man whose good looks can only be matched by his quick wit. Passionate and outspoken, his thirst for life is unmatched; although in this moment, with tears pressing to the surface of his eyes, his confidence and thirst for life have disappeared.

Beside AJ sits EMILE, AJ's boyfriend. Emile reaches a hand out to AJ and places it tenderly on his knee.

AJ answers the phone.

"Hey, what's up, boss?"

My executive producer was on the other end of the call. He'd been trying to reach me for three days, but I'd avoided him like the plague.

"Hey, AJ. How are you?"

I knew he was calling to fire me from Hollywood Today Live, so my emotions were all over the map.

"I'm fine, what's up?"

I WAS NOT FINE.

"Well, I'd like to meet up for coffee if you have time today," he said.

I didn't want to meet for coffee. Who the fuck wants to meet for coffee with the guy who's about to fire them from the biggest opportunity they'd ever had? I was the host of a nationally syndicated talk show on Fox, but I knew that would change the moment I met him for coffee and accepted my fate.

"Listen, we can just do this over the phone, I'm fine."

Still not fine. Not even close.

"I'd rather not, AJ, if that's okay with you."

Aaaaaaahhhhh ... why was he making this so hard. Couldn't he just text "YOU'RE FIRED" or something so we could both move on with our lives? I've never been a huge fan of confrontation, and even though I'm not technically a millennial anymore, ever since they created that oddly accurate Xennial subcategory for all of us born between 1977–1983, I still would've preferred to communicate like a millennial in this situation. I was okay getting fired via text!

"Well, boss, if YOU need to do this in person for YOUR conscience, then I guess I can meet up with you in a bit."

"I do, AJ. Thank you."

I was being kind of a dick to him, but I was scared and hurting, and I did not want to hear the words I knew were about to come out of his mouth. I placed my phone back on the console, took a deep breath, and looked over at Emile. Without a word spoken, he knew.

Shaking, I started up my car. I'd spent much of my adult life driving a broke-down Chevrolet Equinox well past its prime, but I had decided to treat myself to a brand-new Audi Q5 just a few months prior to this moment in the parking lot of Absolutely Phobulous. (Such a cute name for a Vietnamese noodle shop.)

Lacking even the most basic features, the Equinox was not the vehicle of a man on his way to the top of the entertainment industry. Two of the power windows no longer worked, the air conditioning had gone out years before, and the sunroof had been permanently ajar for about three years before I got rid of it. I was too broke to fix any of its issues, but once that Fox money started rolling in, I was ready to live in luxury. I was ready for windows that would go up AND down whenever I felt like it. I'd made it!

That Q5 was my pride and joy, and as I looked in my rearview mirror before backing out of that tiny parking lot, I hit the gas and prepared to guide my baby out into the alley. Instead, I guided her right into the wall in front of me!

I got out, checked the front bumper, and slouched back into the driver's seat, completely deflated. I was trying to keep it together but began to unravel quickly. Emile did his best to calm me, but in my mind, all I kept thinking about was the fact that I was about to be fired. Then, of course, I started to worry about how I would continue to pay for my car. Oh yeah, and how would I pay to fix the big scratch I'd just added to the front of it? How would I ever show my face in public again? What would I tell the parents who'd invested in my dream financially and emotionally all these years because I had convinced them that it would all be worth it? If I showed up for coffee, would this be the last time I ever met with an executive producer again?

I was spiraling.

Scratching my bumper on any other day would not have sent me on such a downward spiral, but piled on top of the gravity of the situation I was already up against, it was just too much. Wouldn't it be nice if we could pick and choose what fires to put out and when?

That's just not how life works, though, and at that very moment, the universe was teaching me a master class in rock bottom survival. Luckily, I was not alone.

"Boo, you are going to be just fine. This show does not define you. You are talented, and there will be other opportunities."

I have the best boyfriend ever. His name is Emile; you'll learn more about him later.

"I know. It's just that I don't actually know for sure that I'll ever work again, but I do believe in my heart that this is only the beginning. I just can't believe this is happening."

The strangest thing is that although I hadn't been happy on the show since returning to Fox only three months before, that didn't mean I was ready to walk away. Hollywood Today Live had started a couple of years prior as a two-minute internet segment that my soon-to-be-former co-host Kristen Brockman and I used to do called, "Hot Off the Net: LA Edition." I don't know that there was ever another edition in some other city, but I do know that literally no one ever watched our edition. Through lots of creative maneuvering spanning about two years, and more smoke and mirrors than I'd ever witnessed, that little segment was fleshed out, developed into an hour-long talk show, and eventually picked up for a six-week test run the previous summer.

Basically, this means we were given an opportunity to air our show in a handful of cities for a six-week period, and if our ratings were good enough, Fox would pick us up and expand our broadcast to households across the country. Those six weeks were one of the most exciting periods of my life. I was given the opportunity to learn and grow, both as a performer and as a human, LIVE on air. It truly was a magical time for everyone involved with our show. We were creating five hours of live television per week from a small studio on the corner of Hollywood Boulevard and Vine, and people were tuning in. We were the little engine that could!

After the successful test run, we waited nearly a year to find out whether we were getting picked up. The wait was agonizing, but luckily, during that time, I was invited to fill in as the entertainment anchor for Good Day LA, also on Fox, while the regular anchor was away on maternity leave. This was another incredible opportunity to learn, to grow, and to keep my mind off of Hollywood Today Live. Eventually, we were picked up, I said goodbye to my new family at Good Day LA, and I went back to work.

This time, though, it felt different. We were no longer out just to have fun and see what happened; we were actually part of Fox's daily lineup, and we needed to pull in the ratings to justify that. What had done so well as a show with a group of young rookie hosts navigating their way through the latest entertainment and pop culture stories was now struggling to find an identity in a highly competitive daytime landscape. Being different was what had gotten us on the air, but for some reason, a bunch of corporate types thought they knew what was best and were hell-bent on making our show safe and stuffy and stale. The fun was gone. I did not enjoy this new normal. In fact, I hated it.

I think I can speak for all of my co-hosts when I say that this was not what we'd fought so hard to create. Had I just been brought on for a period of time to host this show and then been fired, that would've been one thing, but I'd helped create this show from the very beginning, and my heart was invested. I cared deeply for Hollywood Today Live and all of the people who worked tirelessly to get it on the air each day. I knew that hearing the words "you're fired" from my boss would mean more than losing my job; it would mean losing the TV family I'd grown to love during the past couple of years, and I wasn't ready to face that reality.

But there was no escaping my fate.

I'd agreed to meet my boss in thirty minutes at a coffee shop within walking distance of my apartment, so Emile and I drove home. He went upstairs to our place, and I walked across the street for what I like to call "The Coffee of Doom."

You may notice me using the word DOOM a few times in this book. I think it's a really funny word and lightens things up a bit when I'm talking about some stuff that really sucked.

I wanted to hate my boss, but we'd actually become good friends during our time together. As two gay men working in Hollywood, we took pride in knowing that we could have conversations in a public forum that would help members of the LGBTQ community to be seen and heard. At the time, I was one of the only openly gay men on daytime television, and we were both very much aware of the importance of that. Besides Clinton Kelly on The Chew, which has since been canceled, I'm not aware of another openly gay man in daytime television during my time on HTL.

I guess it's a good thing I'd recommended Ross fill in that one day for me; at least I wasn't getting replaced by some uber straight dude. GO GAYS!

Back to the coffee shop.

"How are you doing, AJ?" my boss asked as he greeted me with a big hug.

"I've been better."

How was this happening? What did I do wrong?

"I know. Listen, I wanted to meet and do this in person because I care about you and I wanted you to hear it from me. We've decided not to renew your contract. Friday was your last day. This is a business decision and has nothing to do with your talent. I wish the decision were up to me, but it's not."

At the time, it felt like one of those "it's not you, it's me" breakup scenarios. I let him say what he needed to say, and then I responded with some not-so-kind words about how I had thought we were in this thing together and how I'd lost respect for him when I had found out two weeks prior that I would be let go but hadn't heard a word about my fate from him. Basically, I was hurting and lashing out. It wasn't my proudest moment. I could've articulated myself a little better, but I do stand by the words I spoke to him that day, words that have since been explained far more eloquently to my now former boss. (P.S. We're friends again.)

You see, I'd known I was being replaced for two weeks leading up to this moment, yet I showed up for work each day like a pro and continued to do my job live on air for everyone to see. I wasn't allowed to show emotions or express what I was going through internally, because my job required me to be on camera. It was a pretty brutal learning experience, but I'm so proud of the way I handled myself during that time. I now count it as one of the greatest learning experiences of my life.

I did not feel that way at the time.

I remember getting a cold sore during my last week and asking my makeup artist Natalie to cover it up every single morning. I was under such intense stress that my body was physically reacting, and that's how stress manifests for me since my mom gave me my first cold sore as a young boy. My mom's a really great kisser, so it was worth it.

Also, I have a sort of twisted sense of humor, so you're going to have to decipher whether or not I really think my mom's a good kisser.

Okay, now stop thinking about me kissing my mom. You're being a weirdo!

Anyways, I made it through that final week, my integrity intact and my ego in shambles, but with a face that looked flawless, thanks to Natalie. She's an insanely talented makeup artist; she now works with Ross.

I'm not bitter.

Truthfully, she was so wonderful to me that last week, and in particular, on my final day at Hollywood Today Live. My agents had confirmed weeks before what I knew in my heart, so I was aware that the Friday before "The Coffee of Doom" meetup would be my last. As I packed my things and took mental snapshots of the set, the dressing room, and all the faces I knew I wouldn't be seeing again, I shared with Natalie what I knew. She immediately pulled me aside, grabbed my hands, and prayed for me. I cannot express what that meant to me; although I knew the road ahead would be bumpy, I knew that I would be okay, somehow.

What I did not know was just how bumpy things were about to get. I'd lost my job, but I was about to lose so much more.

Script Rewrites

For this chapter, I want you to think of something that was taken from you. Maybe it was a job, maybe it was a friendship, or perhaps you lost a loved one. I want you to close your eyes and remember that feeling. How old were you? What were you wearing when it happened? What do you remember about the time just before and after this loss took place? Did you change in any way afterward?

Feel free to sit with this for a bit and allow any emotions, negative or positive, to find their way back to the surface. When you feel as if you've pinpointed a particular moment that you are ready to address, you can open your eyes.

We'll get to rewriting your script in a few chapters, but for the first three, I'd simply like you to take some notes. I want you to write down every thought that just went through your mind. We'll revisit these "rock bottom" moments throughout the book, but the first step is being aware of them. It's important that we are aware of our roadblocks because it's impossible to address that which remains in the dark, so let's start dragging some skeletons out of the closet and into the light.

Together, through our shared experiences and the "Script Rewrites" sections at the end of each scene, we're going to flip the script on our lives.

GAY AF!

Scene 62:Lemonade

EXT. LARCHMONT VILLAGE – DAY

A blue sky arches above a quaint neighborhood; its snug streets are the perfect home for a number of shops shadowed by lines of perfectly manicured trees.

A mix of locals and tourists walk down the sidewalk at a relaxed pace, enjoying the warm summer afternoon and the light breeze.

A bird CHIRPS in a nearby tree and takes flight past an open window.

INT. LEMONADE RESTAURANT — DAY

Wind gently whips past the patio as diners enjoy their lunches, taking us inside to where the aromas of roasted chicken and freshly baked bread fill the restaurant.

Glasses CLINK as the wait staff attend each table.

Sitting at the side of the room is AJ, accompanied by his younger sister, Kari. Kari, a beautiful girl whose smile could charm even the roughest individual, has her hands folded neatly under her chin, her eyes looking deep into AJ's soul.

Her gaze drifts upwards to follow the approaching waiter as he lays their food down to the table.

"Yummmm, I'm OBSESSED with the braised short rib here, and this lemonade is legit perfection!"

I sipped on my drink, grateful for the opportunity to enjoy a rare meal with my little sister and marveling at the freshness of my lemonade.

There is no beverage that evokes a sense of classic Americana quite like a glass of ice-cold lemonade. Where I grew up, in Celina, Ohio, it was usually sold for twenty-five cents a cup by some schoolchildren on the side of the road during the hottest days of summer break. A couple scoops of that magical yellow sugar powder and some water out of the tap, and you were in business. In LA, though, the lemonade is a little more, ummm, bougie.

Here, lemonade is made with actual lemons and usually contains some interesting mixture of fresh mint, sliced cucumber, blood oranges, rosemary, or all of the above, because people in LA are just a little "extra." I'm totally down for "extra" when it comes to living life authentically and without regard for others' opinions of me. I am not down with "extra" when it involves the cost of my favorite summertime beverage. Also, it's basically always summertime in LA, and at $4 a pop, a guy like me has to be careful not to go broke over a once affordable indulgence.

So when my younger sister Kari asked to take me to lunch for my thirty-fifth birthday, I jumped at the opportunity to snag a meal from my favorite casual dining spot in LA ... Lemonade. Yep, the restaurant is actually called Lemonade, and their food is AMAZING, especially the aforementioned short rib and the shaved Brussels sprouts! Also, they carry every combination of the actual lemonade beverage, each one of which is fantastic AND pricey. On this day, my sister was paying, and I was more than okay with that. I was about to GO IN on some short ribs!

"You wanna try a bite, sis? They're sooo good!"

I am the type of person who loves sharing great food with people. I didn't want to share my entire meal with her, of course, but I did want her to try a bite.