Dex continues, warming to it. “You’ve heard three very eligible voices. One very confident. One surprisingly layered. One who may or may not be running for office.”
The crowd laughs again.
Dex lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Are you sure? This is your final answer. No lifelines. No calling a friend. No sudden urge to rethink your entire personality.”
The noise dies down, just enough.
Her voice comes through, steady. Certain. “I’m sure.”
A moment of silence overtakes this part of the arena.
“I choose Player Three.”
The audience explodes and music blares from the speakers.
Dex beams. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!”
He gestures toward her. “Before we do anything else, let’s finally put a name to our incredible finalist. Go ahead.”
"Sloane Carter."
The crowd applauds.
Dex nods once. “Sloane, let’s first meet the players you didn’t pick.”
He gestures toward the side of the wall. “Player One!”
Mason steps out first, grinning.
“Defenseman, number twenty-four, make some noise for Mason Barber!” Dex announces.
The crowd cheers loudly as Mason crosses the stage, pulls her into a confident hug, and takes his place beside her like he belongs there.
“Player Two!” Dex announces next. “Winger, number eighteen, give it up for Gregory, 'G-Man' Mills!”
Gregory emerges to strong applause, calm and composed. Another hug, polite but warm, and he joins Mason on her other side.
Dex lifts a hand dramatically. “And now… drum roll, please.”
The crowd pounds the stands.
“Your final contestant… Player Three. Captain. Center. Our ruthless leader, Colby Hayes.”
The roar is instant and deafening.
The lights hit, bright and hot, and the noise rises again.
There’s a single red rose waiting on a small table near us, placed there for the winner of the date. I pick it up before I step out from behind the wall. I don’t hesitate. I cross the few steps between us and offer it to her first.
She takes it. Fingers steady. No surprise, no performance... just a quiet acceptance that somehow lands heavier than applause.
Then I pull her into a brief hug. Controlled. Public. The kind that says I understand the stage we’re on.
The crowd reacts, pleased. Satisfied. They got what they came for.
When I step back, she’s exactly the same. Calm eyes. Chin lifted. Rose held lightly at her side.
She looks at me.
