I was a seat filler at the Emmys. The rules were strict — and the perfume was overwhelming.

When TV cameras cut to celebrities at the Emmys, what viewers don’t see are the people quietly slipping in and out of rows to make sure the audience looks full at the awards show. Purposefully dressed in dark clothing so they don’t stand out, seat fillers on Sunday could find themselves next to stars like Seth Rogen, Scarlett Johansson or Selena Gomez. They just better not take a photo with them.

This year, one of those people was Yahoo’s Kelly Walsh. As a fan of awards shows, she applied to attend on a whim, paid her own way from Boston to Los Angeles and wound up navigating parking garages, adhering to strict dress codes and subsisting on very little food or water — all for the chance to sit in the middle of television’s biggest night. In this interview with Yahoo's Taryn Ryder, Kelly reveals what it’s really like to be a seat filler at the Emmys.

How I got the gig

I’d seen people on TikTok and Instagram talking about being seat fillers for award shows, and it just seemed so fun. I Googled it and found this site: seatfillersandmore.com. I made a profile and saw there was an option to apply for the Emmys. Honestly, the whole thing looks kind of sketchy, like one of those websites where you’re like, how did you not get scammed?

The application was really simple: you send in a headshot and your license or passport information. I’m assuming it’s so they can run some kind of check to make sure you’re not a stalker. I thought, "I’m not going to get this, but I’ll just throw my name in."

I created an account on Sept. 3, and three days later, I got the email saying I’d been approved. Suddenly, I was going to be a seat filler at the Emmys.

Planes, parking garages and lots of walking

I booked my own flight and hotel. It’s not a paid gig — you cover all your own costs. Flights weren’t cheap; it was about $600 roundtrip. I used some [credit card] points [to help cover the cost]. The hotel was the most expensive part. People asked me, "How much do they pay you?" and I was like, "Oh no, you don’t get paid at all."

Check-in on Sunday was between 1 and 3 p.m. PT at this random parking garage by the L.A. Convention Center that shows up on Google Maps as "permanently closed." I remember thinking, "This is so shady." But it wasn't. You wait in line, they check your ID, give you a purple ribbon to pin on your dress so they know you’re a seat filler, and then they march you what feels like the longest way possible around the Convention Center and Crypto.com Arena to a tent out back.

It was the world’s warmest tent, full of hundreds of us, there were no real instructions. Just water and handwritten numbers on index cards. Then you sit and wait for hours, listening for your group [number] to be called. When they do call you, you line up again, shuffle through hallways and wait some more until someone needs your seat. It’s a lot of standing and a lot of walking.

The rules

The first email spelled it out: you’re there to blend in. You’re taking the seat of someone who probably paid $25,000, or so I was told, inside the venue. You’re not there to make friends, you’re not there to take pictures and you’re definitely not there for free food or drinks. If you’re seen with alcohol, you’ll be removed. If you refuse to move when asked, you’ll be removed. They weren’t messing around.

Dress code was strict: men had to be in tuxedos or dark suits, women in formal dresses that were dark and simple. No red, no white, no frills, nothing too long. Flats are recommended since you’re on your feet for hours. If you brought a purse, it had to be a small clutch — and you held onto it the whole night because there’s no coat check.

Even with all those rules, things happen. At one point, the [scent of] fragrance in the room was so overpowering — everyone’s perfume and cologne — I got a migraine. I asked security if I could get some water so I could take my migraine medication, because we were told we weren’t allowed to buy drinks. The security guard just looked at me and said, "That’s insane. Go get something to drink. If anyone hassles you, tell them my name. Then come back." He was great. But the perfume situation? It was like walking into a teenage boy’s locker room — just brutal.

Inside the show

My first placement [of the night] was technically on the second level, but during a commercial break I noticed other seat fillers with ribbons making a beeline down to the main floor. Nobody was yelling at them, so I just followed. That’s how I ended up right in the middle of everything.

I was definitely sitting near people who were important, but not necessarily the stars themselves. I could tell they were writers or production people, but I had no idea who they were. You feel a little awkward — I know you’re someone, but I can’t ask, ‘Who are you?’ So I just sat there, smiled and tried to be polite.

Nate Bargatze’s vibe

At first, I thought his countdown bit was clever — like, “OK, this is a funny way to get people to keep their speeches short.” But no one respected it. They all just kept talking. Pretty quickly, it stopped being funny and just got awkward.

The woman sitting next to me said, "Get this guy off stage," under her breath. You could feel the audience souring on it. Sometimes they’d flash the score and it would say something like negative $36,000, and people would go "Ooh," but the speaker wouldn’t stop. The energy in the room shifted from lighthearted to uncomfortable. Everyone just wanted him to move on.

The night’s big winners

[I loved to see] Adolescence winning a lot of awards. I thought the acting was great, so I was aggressively clapping every time they won. But the people around me were not clapping. It felt like this weird, petty thing I was just observing — why aren’t you clapping? It stood out to me because it was such a big night for them, and I was surrounded by people who seemed unimpressed or didn’t want to show support. I just kept thinking, that’s strange. Then I realized I likely wasn't sitting in the Netflix section.

Stephen Colbert was by far the highlight of the night. When he won, the energy was unreal. The whole room stood, cheering and clapping — except for maybe three guys in front of me who stayed seated. His speech was so full of optimism. He said, "I have never loved my country more desperately. God bless America." People loved it. You could feel the room buzzing with his energy. It was electric.

Expectations vs. reality

Would I do it again? Definitely. If you go in expecting to sit next to celebrities or take selfies, you’re going to be disappointed. It’s not glamorous. But if you go in just happy to be there, you’ll have the best time. You’re part of the show, even if you’re invisible. Not everyone gets to do this. I feel really lucky that I did.

This has been edited for length and clarity.