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Kefi ACTIVE DAY! Yogurt -- Draft

Starring: Kaius Reinhart

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KR: A bullet can’t stop a moving Train, but you know what can? Bloating and stomach cramps. When I’m on the field…

[MONTAGE OF KR FOOTBALL HIGHLIGHTS]

…I need the reassurance that comes with feeling great and moving like a champion.

I achieve that feeling with Kefi ACTIVE DAY!

Yogurt, containing live cultures. Probiotic foods increase the diversity of gut flora, keeping my insides as strong and active as the re st of my body.

One serving of Kefi a day promotes gastrointestinal health, not to mention tasting great!

Now with less sugar, to ensure that I’m getting all the good stuff, and none of the additives.

Kefi ACTIVE DAY! comes in five delicious flavors, so I can reach for my favorite every morning.

Look for it in your grocer’s dairy section.

[TIGHT FOCUS ON KR’S FACE]

Kefi. Food to fuel greatness.

***

The weekend that Ster is in Lisbon, you fly back to the States for the weekend to film a commercial for Kefi.

It’s a weird experience. You’re home, but also not home …

you’re in Los Angeles, staying in Sterling’s house.

The yogurt company offered to put you up in a hotel, five stars, the whole VIP treatment, but you’d prefer the quiet of Sterling’s bungalow in the Palisades.

Not that it’s any less luxurious—the whole house is a smart home, and, small as it is, every square inch screams high end —but it’s comforting, in a way.

You’ve been there before. It doesn’t smell like Sterling, unfortunately, since he’s not there often enough, but some of his spare clothes are in the closet.

There’s a bamboo hairbrush on the dresser belonging to him, and a bottle of his cologne in the bathroom.

You’d never admit it, but maybe you sprayed it on the opposite pillow the first night .

(As an unrelated side note, there’s a possibility that you may be a little bitch for Sterling Grayson.)

It’s only been a few weeks since you’ve stayed somewhere by yourself, but the emptiness of the house feels weird. Like you are a marble rattling around a bowl.

Kefi keeps you busy. The shoot is kind of weird, but not as bad as you feared.

All you have to do is wear your jersey, smile, and eat some yogurt on camera while reciting a few lines.

You don’t even have to memorize them; they have a teleprompter.

You were worried about coming across as inauthentic or hokey, but the director, Chris, is very encouraging.

Between takes, he talks to you like it’s just a chill job, not a nationwide commercial, and gives you tips: treat the camera like it’s another person.

Hold eye contact. Say it like you mean it.

(That doesn’t stop you from retreating to the bathroom and making faces in the mirror as you strive for a cross between confident and sexy, mouthing the words, food to fuel greatness. )

The commercial wraps in one afternoon, and then you are the guest of honor at a small reception held by the company.

Calling it a “party” is stretching things, but you dress up and hobnob with a lot of people in suits.

There is wine and beer, but you don’t imbibe.

This is work . You stay sober, smiling, and serious.

On Sunday, you get photos taken for print ads.

You hold yogurt in your jersey, you hold yogurt in a white t-shirt, and you hold yogurt shirtless, after a blushing redheaded young lady rubs baby oil on your upper body.

Late that night, you’re curled up on the bed in Sterling’s bedroom, watching the eucalyptus sway in the breeze, when your phone dings.

Ster ?: Happy anniversary. I miss you.

You stare at the message, confused. Is it your anniversary?

Do you have an anniversary? You slide off the Cartier bracelet on your wrist, which you never remove, except on the field, and click on the bedside light to squint at the inscription.

Then you check the date on your phone to be sure—the date on the bracelet is in April, which has come and gone. It’s now mid-May.

You: I’m confused

Ster ?: We met a year ago. When you came to see me in Nashville that first time.

You: yeah but is that an anniversary?? didn’t start officially dating for a few months

Ster ?: True. But we kissed for the first time. And I didn’t date anyone else after that .

You: you never told me tha t

Ster ?: It never came up. And we didn’t discuss exclusivity. It’s not like I expect that you weren’t seeing anyone else.

You: I mean it doesn’t matter because I wasn’t

Ster ?: You weren’t seeing anyone else on purpose, or just because it didn’t happen?

You: both or neither. Idk, I decided to shoot my shot with you, but I wasn’t looking anywhere else. i’m too busy. then I met you and i definitely didn’t want to look elsewhere.

Ster ?: I think you just answered the question, you weirdo. I didn’t want to go looking, either. But I’m so glad we found each other anyway. Like I said, HAPPY ANNIVERSARY. I’m making it official. Mark the calendar. We’ll celebrate when you come back. Xo

You loved a message .

You look at your phone’s home screen: May 18th.

But, wait… it’s the 19th already in London, where Sterling’s adorable go-getter ass is already up to go work out.

Huh. You have an anniversary. Who knew? Sterling doesn’t seem angry at you for forgetting it, which seems only fair since you didn’t know it existed.

Monday morning, before you fly back, you take an unnecessarily long car ride out of the way to Rodeo Drive.

It’s crammed with tourists, and it seems like they all are whispering when you walk by.

You are wearing sunglasses and a hoodie, and the stores have only just opened, but it’s not enough.

Your height, cropped hair, and bulk are too distinguishing.

It’s bad enough that you don’t know what you’re looking for, but now you’re going to show up on the online gossip sites. Perfect.

A store called Frette calls your name—symbolically, of course, unlike the blonde Texan bachelorettes on the sidewalk.

It’s confusing when you walk in, because they sell really bougie woven home goods.

Pillows, towels, and duvet covers. No matter how much you love having sex with Sterling on his many beds, all of which have sinfully-soft linens, you are not buying him bedsheets for your anniversary.

You may be gay, but you aren’t that gay.

You’re about to walk out when you see the mannequin.

It’s wearing perhaps the coziest-looking pajamas you have ever seen.

They are old-fashioned looking, like something your Papaw might wear, but there’s a timeless appeal to them: the piping on the color and cuffs, the staid little buttons down the top, the deep front pockets.

Navy blue, which would look amazing with Sterling’s eyes.

You’re almost 100 percent confident in the sizing, but you place a quick call to Maeve anyway, just to check.

(You were right; he takes a medium.) It’s a close call, but your eyes nearly bug out of your head at the register: the PJs are four hundred dollars.

The associate is very sweet, so you school your expression into something neutral when you hand over your card. You ask for the package to be gift-wrapped, reflecting that, somewhere along the way, your life became batshit crazy.

The jet is waiting for you at the airport, the pilot greeting you by name.

Somebody else takes your weekend bag, but you personally carry your gift aboard.

Set it down on the buttery leather seat embroidered with the SG logo, and fold your hands over your chest for a mid-morning nap, counting down the hours until you see Sterling again.

***

Sterling’s final tour stop is Edinburgh.

The last show, the last night, he closes out the Goalposts Tour in grand fashion, in front of a crowd of 73,000, every goddamn one of which is on their feet screaming.

It rained all day, but, just like God orchestrated it, the skies cleared an hour before showtime.