My Autumn and My Winter

"Awaken, Sleeping Beauty!"

Steve muttered darkly as he took in their surroundings. The two lane highway they rolled along was well-maintained, its black edges bordered by steep wood covered hills. Noting a mile marker that was in French and English, he turned back to Autumn.

"When did we get into Canada?"

"Bout two hours ago. You were OUT."

"Must have been." Steve rubbed sleep from his eyes, took a long pull from his half empty bottle of water. "How much farther do we have to go?"

Autumn squinted briefly at the GPS on her dashboard.

"Less than ten minutes."

"Is that why you woke me up?"

"No. I was just bored. Entertain me!"

"Uh, there's not much I can do while you're driving, but hey..."

Steve reached out and tweaked her nipple. Autumn laughed, a semi derisive bark that nonetheless came with a wide smile stretched over her swarthy features.

"Not like that, you tool." She took his hand from her breast, holding it in her lap instead. "Talk to me or something."

"You're no fun." Steve held the comical pout on his lips long enough for her to appreciate it. "The closer we get to being on this show the less I'm looking forward to it."

"Pfft. Having ME in your life should have prepared you for anything."

"Yeah, but I was doing some research while you were still asleep this morning. This show, they're calling the North American version Love of my Life."

"And? It's a corny ass name, I'll give you that."

"The original version in Japan was called...I couldn't even begin to pronounce the actual name, but it translates as 'couple cleaver.'"

"Still not getting why you're being such a pussy."

"Autumn," he said, heaving a sigh "the whole point of this show is to get people to break up! They put you in situations and contests that are designed to make you hate your spouse."

"Oh, bullshit."

"I read for over an hour-"

"No, I don't mean you're full of shit—this time."

"Ha, ha."

"What I mean is, sure they wanted it to look like those couples were melting down, but it's a reality show, Steve. It's all fake. They'll get us all together, decide who they want to win, and give us our directions. It's unscripted, not actually reality."

Steve felt himself relax. She was right, of course. The upcoming week would likely involve stupid stunts and reading from cue cards, but nothing that was to be genuinely feared. He found himself staring at Autumn with new respect.

"You're awesome," he said, squeezing her hand.

"Yeah, I know." She beamed a smile at him.

"No, really. I've been asking a lot of you lately."

"You have? The maid costume wasn't that big of a deal, Steve."

"NO!" Steve chuckled helplessly. "I mean, this. Ending our honeymoon early so we can be on some stupid TV show that neither of us is even interested in, pulling up roots and moving to Hawaii-"

"How is moving to Hawaii a sacrifice on my part?"

"Well, it's pretty far away from your Dad and Brad's place, and you guys are just starting to re-connect."

"Oh." Autumn grew silent for a time, and Steve realized that the notion had never occurred to her before. "That kind of sucks, yeah."

"Plus, it'll be different. Not necessarily bad, but different. Hell, I LOVE New York. I don't even mind or notice the urine smell anymore."

Autumn chuckled, but he noted the tightness around her eyes. He felt bad about pointing out a cloud in their silver lining, but it was best she dealt with the reality of the situation.

"Ya think this is it?"

Autumn's voice was dripping with sarcasm. They had come around a bend in the road, spotted the Bed and Breakfast resort that was to host the show. The sign overhead proclaiming it Riverforks Inn told them that much. However, what Autumn was alluding to was the massive props and displays set up behind and around the B and B. It strongly resembled a carnival or fairgrounds, thought the brightly colored objects had purposes that were not always readily apparent. For one, Steve could not figure out why there was a round platform in the middle of what looked like lemon Jell-O.

"We're going to have to run some sort of obstacle course, it looks like."

"So? We're young and tough."

I'm tough, he thought but did not say. Between Autumn's hands and her recent health crisis, he did not like the idea of her risking herself for a stupid television show.

"I've got a bad feeling about this, that's all."

"You sound like a pussy."

"Hey, you married me! You knew what you were in for."

"So did you." Autumn brought his hand, still clasped in her own, up to her mouth and kissed it. "You're my pussy, though."

"And you're my pain-in-the-ass, belligerent-"

"HEY!"

"-beautiful, sexy, smart wife."

Autumn pulled into the parking lot, giving Steve a playful glower. He turned his attention to the Inn itself. Not bad, not bad at all—it was obvious that the structure was well-maintained. The dark wood exterior was elegant without being overt. It was totally at odds with the circus-esque atmosphere of the game show props.

"Should we get our luggage?"

"Let's wait and see where we're going with it first." Steve shielded his eyes from the late afternoon sun, making out figures moving about the props. None of them seemed to have noticed the new arrivals. The parking lot was full of vehicles, some of them quite expensive. Steve stared longingly at a Lambourghini Diablo, its shell painted candy apple red.

"Man, if we lived near the Autobahn..."

"There's nowhere in that for a car seat."

Steve's head whipped around, his stomach dropping out.

"Are you...I mean, already?"

"What? No!" Autumn entwined her arm with his much larger one. "I was just saying."

"Okay." Steve was ashamed at the wave of relief that washed over him, and struggled to keep it from showing on his face.

Fortunately, they were spotted as they neared the entrance. The highly polished natural wood grain doors flew open and a slender blonde woman strode towards them. Her heels clacked against the wooden decking as he toned legs flashed beneath her gray skirt. Steve ran his gaze up her form, which despite its slim hips and small bust was lovely. Her face itself was stunning, thin and delicate and feminine with soft red lips. Her golden hair cascaded to her shoulders in a neatly controlled fountain.

"Hello," she said, sticking her hand out for Steve, then Autumn, to shake. "You must be the Borgias. The wrestlers."

Autumn arched an eyebrow, because there had been just a hint of disdain in her tone when she said the word 'wrestlers.' Steve noted her reaction but strove to remain neutral in his own.

"Well, I'm Stephen Borgia," he gestured towards Autumn "this is my wife, Autumn Winters-Borgia."

"You added a hyphen. Very proto-feminist of you." The smile that she gave them was tinged with ice. "My name is Suzanne Iorich. I'm co-executive producer and the liason for the contestants."

"Nice to meet you." Steve nudged Autumn's foot with his own.

"Charmed," Autumn said, but her eyes were mere slits.

"If you'll follow me, I'll take you to orientation."

"There's other people here already?"

"Yes." She turned for a moment so Steve could sense her displeasure. "You are the last to arrive, in fact. The others have been waiting since noon."

Steve winced. "Sorry, we weren't told a specific time-"

"Don't be worried about it."

"Oh, we're not."

"Autumn..."

"Well, I'm not."

They were led inside the Inn, which boasted hardwood floors which had been polished to a gleam but still allowed to retain their natural grain pattern. The lobby had numerous animal heads hung on the wall, including a moose with antlers so wide Steve could have stretched out full length between the tips.

He was grateful for the animal heads; It was hard not to stare at Iorich's small but shapely derriere as it swayed in her tight skirt. Autumn seemed relaxed, even a bit bored, but he did note a sheen of sweat on her palm as it pressed into his.

Past the lobby was a carpeted hallway. They passed a well appointed fitness center and indoor pool on the first level. At the end of the hall was a staircase leading to the second and third floors.

"Sorry, there's no elevator here," said Iorich over her shoulder as she led them on. Steve realized he could see easily up her skirt as she ascended ahead of them, so he made a point to scrutinize a tacky tapestry depicting wild deer drinking from a stream. Autumn let go of his hand, drawing his attention.

What the fuck is she doing?

As Steve stared on with wide eyed alarm, Autumn bent low and craned her neck, pointedly staring up Iorich's silver skirt. Her eyes went wide, pierced brows rising high on her face. She straightened up and leaned close to Steve.

"No panties. And she keeps it nice and trim, too."

"What are you doing?" Steve hissed in a whisper.

"What was that?" Iorich stopped at the first landing, one foot on the next step.

"Uh, nothing." Steve smiled sheepishly while Autumn enjoyed a mean spirited snicker. "Lead on."

Iorich's slender nose twitched, but she turned her head and climbed the stairs. Steve glared at Autumn, though he felt a grin creeping into the corners of his mouth.

"Well, we both want another three way," Autumn said with a shrug. "Just checking out the merchandise."

Steve laughed, drawing another glance from Iorich. Whatever he and Autumn faced at the top of those stairs, at least they were together. United.

Hopefully they would still be that way after it was over.

The third floor greeted them with sounds of conversation. Adjacent to the stairway was an open door through which Steve glimpsed a tanned, handsome man walking with a tray of food. His stomach gurgled, which prompted Autumn to put her ear right on his belly.

"Speak to me, o toothless wonder!"

"That's what you say when I fart, too."

"Um. If you'll both please follow me?"

Steve smiled an apology at Iorich as she led them into the room. Of course, his hunger made the buffet tables flush with the rear wall stand out. Compared to the cheap fare offered by Chester Reilly and the WWL, this was quite a step up. There were fresh vegetables, sliced meats, bakery rolls for those who wished to make sandwiches, and a three-tiered tray of cheeses. His nostrils detected the aroma of potato salad, though he couldn't spot it immediately.

Gradually the rest of the room came into focus for him. Comfortable looking velvet backed chairs sat in a rough semicircle near the center of the room, most of them occupied by people. One look at the well-dressed, physically attractive bunch left little doubt that these were their fellow contestants. Two things stood out to Steve at once. One, he was much, much larger than any of the other men. The second was that he was much less handsome than even the least good looking of them.

Steve was at ease with his appearance normally. He knew he was handsome, and physically fit to boot. However, the men he saw gathered before him were without flaw, with chiseled features that could easily grace the cover of any magazine he could care to name. Worse, they oozed that sense of smug superiority that most men of their ilk seemed possessed of.

Then there were the women. Steve counted himself lucky to have Autumn, who he sincerely believed was a beautiful woman. These others, though, had a different kind of prettiness, an extremely feminine grace that he had to admit Autumn mostly lacked.

"I think I underdressed," Autumn said. He turned to look at her, noted the lines around her mouth and the sudden way she gripped his hand.

"You look great," he said, adding a peck on her cheek meant to reassure her. Autumn may have relaxed, just a little.

"Yeah, but I'm in leather pants and a Ramones tee. They're in evening gowns and shit."

Steve grunted, his attention now focused on the three different cameras around the room, each of them manned. Wires curled about on the floor, stepped over by the unglamorous grip crew

"People! Your attention please!" Gradually, all discourse halted and twelve pairs of eyes landed on Iorich. "Thank you. If you could all take your seats, we'll get the ball rolling."

Steve and Autumn took the empty chairs at the end. He smiled and nodded a greeting at the other nearby couples, but there was a bit of stiffness when the returned the pleasantries.

Probably pissed off that we're late.

"In case you've forgotten," said Iorich, catching his gaze once more "I am Suzanne Iorich, co-executive producer."

And you really, really like reminding people of that.

"What might be helpful, as well as fun, would be if we could all go around the room and introduce ourselves."

She pointed a slim, perfectly formed finger at the far end from Steve and Autumn.

"Let's start with you."

A man with an orange spray tan and medium length blonde hair stood up, smiling with blazingly white teeth. His fingers bore neatly trimmed nails, which he used to smooth out his glossy silk suit.

"My name is Cody Edwards, and this is my new wife Serenity."

He gestured at the woman sitting at his side, an impossibly thin blonde woman with dark highlights in her hair.

"And what do you do for a living, Cody?" Iorich's tone had just a hint of impatience.

"I own a half dozen spas in Kansas City, Missouri. My wife is a homemaker."

Autumn rolled her eyes. "Be nice," Steve mouthed silently.

"Why don't you tell us how the two of you met?"

"I saw this..." Cody peered down at his wife, who had the good grace to smile girlishly "...vision of beauty before you on one of the stairmasters at my mid town gym, and I knew that she was the one I was going to marry."

An obligatory aww rose up from some of the other contestants, while Autumn stuck her finger near her mouth and made gagging noises.

The introductions went on. A couple from New Orleans had their own shrimping boat. Steve noted the definition of their ebon skinned muscles, and figured that they might be hard to beat on the obstacle course.

"And how did you two meet, Byron?"

The man smiled, bald pate wrinkling as he glanced at his lovely curly haired wife.

"We were set up on a blind date by her sister. Most women don't care for the idea of being out to sea most of the year, but Lashawda took to it rather well."

"I can't imagine our lives any other way," she added, patting his arm.

Their apparently sincere cuteness melted Iorich, a little. The closest thing to a smile Steve had yet seen turned up the corners of her slim mouth.

Next was one of the two Asian couples on set. The man spoke with a heavy accent, which Steve identified as Japanese.

"Hello!" He smiled so wide, Steve was certain he was trying to apologize for his accent with it. "I am Kakugari Tsukake. My wife is called Junko."

The petite woman at his side gazed up at him lovingly.

"I work for Toho studios as a director of Photography."

"And where did you and your wife meet?" Iorich prompted when Kakugari was on the verge of seating himself once again.

"Sorry? Oh, right! Our families arranged our meeting."

"Arranged marriage?" Autumn said, but not loud enough for anyone to hear.

Before Iorich could ask him to, the next man stood up quickly and assumed a cross-armed stance. He was short, but stocky, nearly as muscular as Steve was himself. His hair was done up in a flat plain on his head, and not so much as a stray hair moved when he whipped his head around to take in the group.

"Yo. Check it out, my name's Vincent Dimaggio, but don't call me that! Everyone calls me Vinny-D, and if you're too stupid to know, or you've been living under a rock, I'm the greatest thing to happen to hip hop to ever come out of Jersey."

I have no problem believing that, thought Steve, though he couldn't say if he had a lower opinion of rap or New Jersey itself.

Vinny sat back down, causing Iorich to clear her throat.

"Uh, Vinny, care to introduce your wife?"

"Oh." Vinny barely glanced at the stocky but curvaceous red head next to him. "This is the ball and chain, Vanessa."

"And how did the two of you meet?"

"How the fuck should I know?"

"Uhm. Very well." Iorich turned to the the second Asian couple, seated right next to Autumn and Steve. The man rose to his feet and adjusted a pair of wire frame glasses.

"Hello, everyone." The man had no trace of an accent, and had somewhat blunter features that Kakugari. "We're the Fuchs, Sam and Jenna, respectively."

Autumn snickered, despite Steve's glower. The man had said the name properly, and it was rather unfortunate how closely it resembled a certain other word.

"I'm first chair violin at the St. Louis Philharmonic, and my lovely wife is regional director of the Korean-American Pride Foundation. We met when she ran me over with her car."

Laughter greeted this declaration. Jenna ran a hand through glossy midnight black hair and smiled prettily.

"I was only going about two miles an hour. HE was the one who didn't see the 'don't walk' sign."

"Best thing that ever happened to me," said Sam, bending low to give her a kiss.

Steve felt the cameras on them, as they were up next. He was used to being on television, used to being stared at by thousands of eyes, but it was different somehow. In the ring, he was a persona, a larger than life character. Here he was just Steve, and Steve was feeling nervous.

"Hey, what's up?" He noticed his hands were shaking and thrust them into his pockets. "My name is Stephen Borgia, and this is my wife, Autumn Winters-Borgia. I'm a pro wrestler with the WWL, and she's my manager."

"And how did the two of you meet?"

Steve swallowed. "Uh, in a coffee shop."

"Yeah," Autumn said "but what really made me open my legs was when he got me into Battlebrawl."

Steve's eyes went wide, his jaw slack, as he regarded his wife. Laughter bubbled up around the room. Even the camera crew got in a snicker. Iorich's thin brows rose, but with a look of calculation more than disapproval.

"Thank you. We're very glad to have all of you here. Now, there are some things to go over..."

The orientation became more formal, and much more dull. There were forms to fill out, most of them legal briefs saying that the contestants would find the production company harmless in the event of injury, real or imagined. There was a non-disclosure clause, and an order to avoid social media for the duration of the contest.

This took nearly an hour. While most of the couples were busy filling out paperwork, Mason cleared his throat.

"So, have you decided which of us is going to win?"

Iorich blinked her gray eyes several times, face impassive.

"I'm sorry?" she said at length.

"Which one of us gets to win? C'mon, this is going to be like Survivor, right? I mean, just a pretend competition?"

"Mr. Edwards, please-"

"I'm just saying, that as far as star power goes, I'm the most well known face here. I have four thousand twitter followers, and I just finished a romance novel that's selling very well."

"That's great, Mr. Edwards." Iorich's eyes narrowed just a bit. "However, I regret to inform you that this contest is quite legitimate. Genki Goro prides himself on the fact that every show he produces is true and real."

She raised her steely gaze to encompass all of the contestants.

"That goes for the challenges AND your reactions to them. I know some of you have been on reality shows before, but this is going to be different. There will be no coaching, no coaxing by the production crew."

"But it says in the contract we have to make commentary after every shoot," Steve said, glancing up from the stack of papers in his lap.

"Yes," said Iorich with a curt nod. "But the content of those confessionals will be of your own choosing. Genki Goro wants real reactions, real emotion. You don't have to worry about 'spicing up' your language. In fact, we'd like for all of you, as much as possible, to ignore the fact that you're being filmed entirely.