"Simply Clean?" Natasha asked, holding the bottle in her hand, turning it over to look at the ingredients on the back, an eyebrow arching somewhat in surprise as she added, "mmm, organic. I don't...I don't know how comfortable I feel in hawking organic soap."
"I'm not going to try and tell you some corporate lie like 'it grows the brand' or whatever, Miss Simple," the man in the suit sitting across from her at the table said, "but put aside 'the brand' and think about it like this; think what you could do with the money. You're a good person, don't you want to bring in money to help the station? Donate to charities? Give back to underfunded schools? Hell, what about helping your daughter? You could easily send her to college with what you'd make off this in a single year, I guarantee it, and the time to do it is now, when everyone knows who you are. The heat is on and turned up, now is the time to sell it." "I just...it feels so...dishonest," Natasha said, setting the soap down on the table and wiping her hands on her shirt, "Ironically enough it makes me feel dirty. Lawrence smirked at this and looked away from the table as Nat tried not to laugh herself. "A lot of people don't trust advertising. They believe we want to pervert their message, betray their beliefs, their ideals and ethics and morals, but I'm only bringing you things I think would be right for your name, your brand. Things that are, as you would say, good for you. Organic food or household items, a modest and affordable fashion line, things that are for the person and helping them feel better about themselves." "I just...how the fuck, pardon my language, does organic dish soap help someone feel better about themselves?" Natasha asked. "Because by using it, they know they're doing good for the environment," the man said, leaning back in his seat and straightening his tie, "It makes them feel good about themselves to know they're taking care of the world, and by that extension of others." "I...guuueeesss," Natasha said, "Let me think about it, can I just think about it?" "Absolutely!" the man said, standing up and, leaning across the table, shook Natasha and Lawrence's hands before leaving the room. Natasha turned in her rolling chair to face Lawrence, who simply shook his head and chuckled as she exhaled and shrugged. "You know, you'd think people would want to make millions of dollars, but...I don't know, it just doesn't appeal to me," Natasha said, "I mean, the money is appealing, of course, but I don't like the idea of my face on lots of stuff for people to buy. I'm selling peace of mind, not organic Cranberry Juice." "Natty," Lawrence said, leaning forward, "You know I trust you, you know that I believe only you know what's best for you and what you do, and you know I won't push something if you really feel that uncomfortable about it, but I think it's time to tell you that you're...really...the only one capable of bringing funds into this station at first. I mean, sure, we've got Sharla but her workout DVDs and other merch only does so well, honestly, but I'd never say that to her face of course. But you...you've created a persona that people really relate to, and that's what sells things. Something people can relate to." "...is that all I am now? A persona?" Natasha asked, looking at her nails, as Lawrence thought. "Of...I mean....no, of course not, but...god, you know what I mean, right? People see you, they relate to you, because you're trying to help them and-" "I'm trying to genuinely help them, yes, and then I'm going to betray that trust to hawk some fucking natural laundry soap?" Natasha asked, "Don't you see how pseudo scummy that is? Don't you see how snake like that is? I'm using that trust, that trust they've put in me because I actually care, to sell them shit they don't really need. I mean, I'm all for helping the planet, I'm all for people using organic products to promote the longevity of the planet and themselves, but Larry, I'm not...I'm not going to sell them things I don't believe in when the only thing I do believe in is helping them help themselves." Lawrence leaned back and sighed, folding his arms. "Alright," he said, "It's up to you, like I said, I just wanted you to see it from the stations point of view." "And, quite frankly, that's somewhat unscrupulous, you're putting its future in my hands, you're making me feel responsible for its poor profits. That's way too much pressure, especially for someone who has nothing to do with the business itself and is just a person who has a show on the network. I thought you were better than that." With that, Natasha stood up and exited, leaving Lawrence to sit there and think about what she'd said. Out in the hall, she leaned against the wall and exhaled, feeling a bit bad about having been so harsh towards her friend who'd so often defended her, but she also felt somewhat disgusted by his rather shallow behavior. Standing there, Sharla stopped walking by, sipping on a iced coffee and looked at her. Natasha looked up at Sharla and Sharla smiled and waved at her. "Hi," Natasha said, chuckling. "Everything alright, champ?" Sharla asked, and Natasha shrugged, as they started walking down the hall together. "I don't know, I feel like everyone is starting to try and use me," Natasha said, "I'm starting to regret having done what I did because, even if I made a point and got through to people, look at what it's done. Now I'm being molded into nothing more than another commodity used to further a market that frankly is already rather inundated with shallow minded people selling things nobody needs. Before all this, I was just another employee. I could do my show and nobody would bat an eye, but now everyones eyes are on me all the time, just waiting to try and milk whatever it is I do for their own profit margin." "That's deep," Sharla said, "I know what you mean, I feel sort of bad for selling my shakes and exercise equipment and stuff because I don't want to be a sales person, I want to be an exercise coach. I want people to do this for themselves, not buy it and do it because I told them to. But sadly a mass uninformed public has to be told what to do and how to do it, and often what to do it with, and soon, before you know it, your good intentions have become nothing more than yet another marketing tool." "Exactly," Natasha said, "I just..." They stopped and Sharla sipped from her coffee, tilting her blonde ponytailed head to the side, waiting for her to finish. "I just want things to go back to normal, this is all too stressful for me," Natasha said. *** Violet and Courtney were sitting in Violets bedroom on the bed as Courtney flipped through a fashion magazine and Violet read a book. Neither had said a word in a while, but that was fine. They were happy to have the sort of friendship where they didn't have to speak often in order for anything to matter. They merely enjoyed being in one anothers company. Finally, after a few minutes, Courtney exhaled loudly and flipped yet another page. "You know," Courtney started, "it's really frustrating trying to find something to wear when you know that a lot of stuff isn't going to fit you solely because your body shape is just moderately different enough to make a difference." "You look fine," Violet said, not looking up from her book. "I mean, yeah, thankfully I was able to start HRT before anything really happened, and that staved off a lot of problems, but there's a lot of other minor things that couldn't be avoided, like, for example, the size of my feet. They aren't huge by any means, but still bigger than most girls and that's annoying." Violet lowered her book and looked at Courtneys feet, swinging in the air on the bed as she had her legs up; Violet shrugged and said, "They look fine too. Shoes aren't something to be that self conscious about, I think." "Well, but it's annoying when I find a pair of shoes I really like but can't wear simply because my feet are just a smidge too wide, you know? I don't know, it's annoying to me at least, especially with as into fashion as I am," Courtney said. "Stop finding things to not like about yourself," Violet said, "Enough people will do that for you." "Hah!" Courtney laughed, "Sometimes you make a really good point!" The phone rang downstairs and both girls got up and headed down the stairs to listen to the message. Courtney had once asked Violet why she didn't answer the phone, and Violet had told her it gave her anxiety to talk to people she didn't know and couldn't see, which Courtney felt was a valid enough reason, so they stood in front of the answering machine and waited for the caller to leave a message. Finally, after what felt like 7 rings, the machine finally clicked on, and a voice came over the speakers. "Hello Miss Simple, this is the principal of your daughters school," the voice said, "I'm calling to ask if you'd be interested in giving a speech for Career Day in the auditorium. We've been aware of your recent publicity, and with your show being the beacon of positivity that it is, we think you'd be a perfect candidate for doing such a thing. Please call me back and let me know as soon as possible so we can make arrangements and fit you into the schedule, thank you." The call ended and Violet and Courtney glanced at one another somewhat uncomfortably. "Well," Courtney said, "I guess it's better than him calling cause you're in trouble. Maybe she'll decline." "Only if I beg," Violet said, turning and heading into the kitchen, leaving Courtney to feel like she'd struck a nerve of some kind. *** Sitting in her car, listening to quiet jazz on her radio while she waited at a red light, Natasha couldn't help but feel like now she'd been guilt tripped into doing something she didn't want to do. She didn't want to promote products, she didn't want to sell things. She just wanted to help people. But, if the station was in need of money that badly...just then another car pulled up beside her and honked its horn. This startled her out of her thoughts and brought her back to reality. Nat looked towards the car and rolled her window down. "You're Miss Simple, yeah?" a woman in the passenger seat asked. "Uh...yes?" Nat replied, unsure of where this was headed. "I love your show! You're putting out such a positive message, and it's really great to see when the rest of television is littered with evil and hatred, so thank you!" the woman added, before rolling her window back up and driving off as the light changed. Natasha sighed and started driving as well. She couldn't deny her presence was something that had become sought after recently, but she was beginning to feel like it was being sought after for all the wrong reasons. She turned into a nearby parking lot for a small drug store and stopped the car, then sat there in her seat and breathed slowly, heavily, trying to take all the weight she felt off her shoulders even just momentarily. She was having a panic attack. She hadn't had one in ages, it felt like, but now she was having them again, and she knew it'd only become fairly regular the more people bothered her for things like brand deals. And the longer she held off on actually giving the go ahead with these deals, the more she felt Lawrence, and presumably the rest of the network emboldened by him, might be breathing down her back or giving her the evil eye, especially if she, in the end, decided against it. Natasha didn't know what to do, what to think, all she knew was she needed to relax. She needed to stop her brain from spinnin a mile a minute, and her chest to untighten. Just then her cell phone rang, and she answered. "Hello?" she answered as calmly as she could, "Yes, this is she. I...I can't talk about this right now. Call my boss, he'll set up a meeting, thank you. Goodbye." Natasha hung up and stared ahead at the car parked in front of her in the parking lot. She didn't even know what she was staring at exactly, or why, or even how long she stared, she just knew she had to draw the focus away from her anxiety and instead to something else, something in her immediate visual vicinity, and this car was what she had chosen. After a few minutes she could feel her pulse slow again, and her breathing returned somewhat to normal, and she felt hungry. She wanted to eat, so she pulled out and headed to a nearby fast food drive through. She felt like anytime anyone wanted to talk to her anymore was just to get her to sign off on some deal, some sort of marketing gimmick, and nobody wanted to actually care to listen to her real message. She wasn't anti capitalist or anything, she wasn't against buying things, she just wanted to prove that what she was offering could only come from the person themselves and not a thing they were sold. Inner turmoil is rarely solved completely by impulse purchases. She got her bag of burgers, pulled into the lot of the fast food place, parked and wolfed them down one by one. God, if only she'd had known this was what her life would turn into, she may never have decided to break character and speak openly. She needed to get home. Her daughter never wanted anything from her that had to do with work. *** "The school called," Violet said as they stood in the kitchen. Courtney had gone home moments earlier, while Natasha made some pasta for the two of them to eat and Violet stood next to the fridge, drinking out of a juice box. "The school?" Natasha asked, somewhat distracted by her cooking. "Yeah, they want you to come talk, in the gym, about, um, career day?" Violet finished, taking a few sips from her juice box before sitting down at the table, "I don't know that I want you to do it though." "Well, sweetheart, that's the sort of thing I could actually get behind," Natasha said, "That's...that's actually pushing a real message to impressionable kids who might need to hear some positivity. You know what I've done the last few weeks? Take meetings with people who want to slap my name and face on products and sell them. That's not listening to what I'm saying. But this? This is." "Yeah but they already make fun of me enough," Violet countered, "If you came and did this, they'd make fun of me even more. That isn't fair." "Sometimes, Violet, I'm going to do things that you aren't going to be happy with. I go out of my way to support you and listen to your concerns, because I love you and I care about how you feel, but this is one of those times when I think it's actually in my best interests to go ahead and go speak to the kids at your school. If I could just get through to one kid, it would be worth it." Violet sat and stared at her mother. She'd never once heard her talk like this. Usually, if Violet said something would make her uncomfortable or unhappy, Natasha abided by that and decided not to partake, but this...this was different. Something had changed. Violet stood up and left her juice box on the table before heading to the doorway of the kitchen. "Hey! Aren't you hungry?" Nat called out after her. "No." Violet stomped up the stairs, leaving Natasha to eat her pasta and watch TV all by herself. Up in her room, Violet sat on her bed and cried, thinking about how things had been just in the last year. She'd had a family, or at least the concept of one. Maybe her father hadn't been as great as she'd always thought he was, but now she was beginning to miss having a dad around, especially now that her mother was seemingly turning her back on her as well. Violet laid down and, despite her usual disgust towards the idea, picked up her phone to make a call. Courtney answered on the other end. "Are you okay?" Courtney asked, "You sound...sad." But, after a few moments, Violet decided, instead of responding, to hang up and cry herself to sleep. Natasha came in a bit later to check on her, and then headed to her bedroom herself. She'd always put Violet first, but this was the one time she wanted to do something for herself. Why couldn't Violet understand or accept that? In the midst of all these ridiculous brand deals the network was trying to make with her, this was the one thing that felt...real. That felt like it mattered. She could maybe get some kids, not adults, to listen to her, and if, as she said, even one single kid took a solid lesson away from the things she had to say, it would be worth it. She didn't like upsetting Violet. It was her least favorite thing in the world. But after a lifetime of doing things for others, Natasha felt like she deserved to do at least one thing for herself, especially right now in this time of personal crisis. She laid down on her bed and looked up at her ceiling. Violet would understand eventually. She'd come around. Or at least that's the lie Natasha told herself that night to get to sleep.
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Public Access follows Natasha Simple, a self qualified "self help" instructor with her own show on local public access. But when she makes a sudden and surprising statement on air, her entire life changes, for the better...and the worse. Archives
December 2022
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