Dex opens his mouth.
Closes it.
“…Okay,” he says. “Player Three just lowered my resting heart rate.”
The crowd laughs, but the energy shifts. Less shouting. More listening.
Her voice comes through again. “That sounds… intentional.”
Dex immediately cuts in, delighted. “That does sound intentional. Sir, are you aware this is a dating game and not a mission statement?”
A ripple of laughter moves through the crowd, not loud, but appreciative, like they caught the same thing she did.
I glance at the wall, ridiculous as that is, like I might see something through it.
Dex keeps things moving. “Let's move on. Question two! What do people always get wrong about you?”
Player One chuckles. “That I’m always serious. I’m not. I just save my energy for people worth talking to.”
Someone in the crowd yells, “Marry me!”
Dex points. “Security, escort that person to the bar.”
Player Two answers next. “People assume I’m intense. I’m not intense. I’m thorough.”
Dex snorts. “Player Two brought bullet points.”
Then me.
“That when I’m quiet, it's because I don’t care,” I say. “It’s usually the opposite.”
Dex starts to joke.
Stops.
“…Huh,” he says.
He clears his throat quickly. “Okay. That answer just took a left turn into sincerity. Everybody stay calm.”
The arena drops a notch in volume.
Her voice comes back, softer now. “Thank you for clarifying that.”
I sit a little straighter.
It surprises me, that spark of interest. Curiosity, really. Who is this woman who listens instead of filling the space? Who sounds like she means what she says?
I remind myself this is a game. A stage. A night built on charity and spectacle.
Still, I find myself wanting to hear more.
Dex clears his throat. “Alright! Final round before our finalist gets her follow-ups.”
The energy hums, tight and electric.
“What would make this date a success for you?”
Player One grins. “If we’re still laughing by the end, I lean in and see if she lets me steal a kiss.”
