My wake-up call came early. Somewhat rested, I still didn’t look or feel like myself. Even though I’d slept in one spot with the boo boo leg wrapped and elevated, the bruising and swelling had had time to kick in. The white bandage covering the wound was now dried and stuck with globs of Neosporin mixed with blood showing through the layers of gauze. I had no choice but to change this dressing as I did not want to deal with infection on top of everything else. There was no easy way to loosen the bandage in its current state and not reopen the injury. One had to be slow and deliberate or I’d be bleeding all over again. I decided the best course of action was to sit in a tub with the hottest water I could possibly stand gently twisting the gauze pad until it released itself from the site. The entire process took about 20 minutes but, alas, success. If it had been anybody else’s leg but my own, I would have declared they needed immediate medical attention. It was a scary purply reddish swollen mess. From mid-calf down, and well into my ankle and heel, the entire leg looked like a rabid wolf had held it over an open flame then gnawed on it for breakfast. Seriously! No exaggeration. My face was actually not too bad, and I figured I could probably get away with a heavy layer of foundation to cover the bruises around the eye. My cheek was a little funky looking and sore, but if I smiled real big it almost matched the other one. I fumbled around for a time with my hair and make-up and failed badly at making either a hit. Oh well. I’d have to face Joshua and Cory with open arms, a big smile, and hope they didn’t notice that I was a bit of a wreck. After all, this wasn’t about me, it was about Joshua. The hardest thing for me was that I was totally not myself. I wish I would have looked better, or at least could have felt better. The fact was I didn’t. But, as they say, the show must go on.

Read the Interview!

Here was the plan: I’d arranged for Joshua to come to the hotel suite in the morning, Friday, around 11am and I’d conduct the interview first. Cory, the very cool and talented photographer, had graciously agreed to come afterward and shoot some lifestyle shots, saving the cover shoot for, Saturday, the following day at a different location.

Getting dressed was a chore. I decided to wear a basic black and white ensemble with vest, scarf, and a grey trusty newsboy cap. (I love hats and don them often, so it had nothing to do with trying to camouflage my bruised face.) The end result wasn’t great but it wasn’t horrible either.

So now that I’ve managed to make myself reasonably presentable it was time to take on the day. There was prep work to set the room up for the interview. My mandatory tape recorder would sit on the table between the couch and the sofa. Problem was, there was no outlet close enough to accommodate the cord length. I called Delores at the front desk and asked it the hotel could please provide an extension cord. Within 15 minutes a sweet, happy-go-lucky guy named Juan was knocking. In no time flat, the furniture was moved, the cord in place, and the hook up ready to go. Juan refused my efforts to give him a tip stating it was his pleasure to assist and if I needed anything else to ring him up immediately.

Through the sheers I could see a bright sunny sky and knew the L.A. weather was cooperating in a big way. I put my shades on under my comfy hat and made my way down to the lobby and the valet stand. The two men on duty, Mario and Worku, already knew I was expecting guests and assured me they would provide red carpet service every step of the way. It’s always nice to make people feel special and welcome and I knew I had no worries for when Joshua and Cory arrived. The word had gotten around, too, about my injury and Mario inquired if I wished to seek medical service or did I need anything from the CVS that was up on Sunset Blvd? I graciously said I didn’t need either, at the moment, thanked him and Worku for being so considerate, and made my way back upstairs to relax and wait. (Ahh, this place—I love this place—the people, so very, very nice!)

As it turned out, we moved Joshua’s arrival time up and decided to have Cory do his thing first, and I’d do the interview on the end of the shoot. That way Joshua would be comfortable and know me a little better and Cory would be done in a reasonable time and could enjoy the rest of his Friday evening. It was a win-win. Ironically, both guys showed up at the hotel almost the same time. Mario rang and told me Joshua was on his way up while Cory called to say he was just pulling in outside and would be up straight away.

Finally, the doorbell rang. I opened it to find a guy I didn’t know, but felt like I knew, standing there smiling, cuter and more adorable in person than I could have imagined. Television does not do him justice and ladies, I’ve gotta tell you, he is just so damn cute. Although we had talked and exchanged text messages over the course of months, Joshua and I had never met—until now.

We hugged and laughed and exchanged pleasantries. With Cory soon to arrive there was no time to sit and get better acquainted. I wanted Joshua to get his outfits laid out and ready so Cory could choose and they could get started with the shoot. As he began to pull out tops and pants and vests and hats and shoes I couldn’t help but observe him during those first few minutes. He seemed friendly, extremely friendly, but cautious—I think living in L.A. has toughened him a bit—in a good way. By that I mean, for his own good. I realized he doesn’t know me—really know me—and isn’t exactly sure what to expect from me and our time together. Naturally, he would be cautious but I sensed, too, he was sizing up the situation and me.

Before long Cory Sorensen was at the door—camera and equipment in hand—ready and raring to go. Everybody greeted everybody and I was glad that there was noticeably good chemistry in the room—we were off to a great start.

(The suite, as it turned out, was perfect and the walls and layout of the room perfect—what good fortune. Cory couldn’t have been more pleased about the backdrop. Debbie Baigrie—owner of Natural Muscle Magazine—and I had given a lot of time and thought to selecting the right location to stay in Hollywood and this was a real hit. )

Now Cory calmly and methodically orchestrated Joshua through the shoot pointing to a shirt or jacket or cap or chain, directing him within the walls of the hotel suite to make some magic with the camera. And the shoes. . .there were yellow shoes and fushia shoes and so many colors of shoes. I was the side kick—reminding Joshua of funny moments from the show and contributed to bringing out the best in him—which doesn’t take much coaxing. He is a natural and a wonderful subject for any photographer. Cory, having taken pictures of many people—famous and not so famous—gave Joshua the star treatment with such deliberate care. I was thrilled to see how much he seemed to be enjoying our time together.

The kitchen was stocked with a basket of goodies and snacks and the fridge had the usual choice of beverages. At this point, Joshua had exerted a lot of energy and needed some nourishment. He asked if the stuff in the basket was okay to eat. He munched on a granola bar and some chips and grabbed a bottle of punch from the fridge. Cory clicked and clicked and clicked some more. Joshua changed into a combination of his most comfortable but cool outfits and posed and posed and posed some more. After over 3 hours we called it a wrap. Cory gave Joshua some instructions for Saturday, gave him directions to his studio, and told him what a great job he did. He then packed up his equipment and headed out. This shoot was designated the lifestyle shoot and tomorrow we would shoot the cover at a different spot—Cory’s studio at his home. I walked Cory to the door and sincerely thanked him for the attention he gave to this shoot. He told me he would be sending his friend and sometime assistant Andres to pick me up tomorrow at around noon and we’d converge with Joshua.

With Cory gone it was time to get down to business. There are certain givens I always do when interviewing: I always tape my interviews—keeps everyone honest and you never have to worry about misquoting or misstating information. I always have my questions written out on a yellow tablet—just something that works for me. I always ask more than I need. I always do extensive research. I’m always prepared as much as possible. I always give it my all—my complete and undivided attention. Joshua grabbed another cold drink and we began. He sat in the big oversized chair. I sat on the couch yellow pad in hand and tape recorder running.

I walked Joshua through a series of questions. We covered a ton of topics: his childhood, his time during the auditions, his time on the show, the dances, the dancers, the choreographers, winning, the tour, the time since the tour, and the future. He was open and forthright with his answers. Some questions I asked were personal—real personal—and I promised him I wouldn’t use those questions in the story, but I was interested simply for myself. He believed me and answered those questions honestly. Sorry, but I won’t share those with you here, either!

I believe he was somewhat taken at my vast knowledge about him and the details I knew and remembered. (For anyone who knows how I work, it’s who I am, so this is nothing out of the ordinary or unusual.)

It was fun for me to see his expression or when he relived a moment or was reminded of something he had all but forgotten. It was also a kick when I was able to tell him something he didn’t know or give him a perspective on something from the show that he hadn’t realized. Our talk lasted almost three hours. At this stage, it had been a long day, and I was running out of steam. I had done a pretty good job at ignoring the pain thus far but my leg was beginning to really bother me and it was time to stop. Originally, I had wanted to offer to take Joshua to dinner, but I knew that would have to wait for another time and another trip. I needed to say my goodbyes, let him get on his way, and tend to by boo boo leg. Tomorrow would be here before you know it, and I’d be seeing him again at Cory’s for the big cover shoot. One down and one to go. So, am I glad I came? Has it been worth it in spite of all the complications?