That’s an understatement.
“I don’t think anyone would. How old were you?”
“I was sixteen. It was only six months after I presented as an Omega myself. When it happened, he was right there, holding my hand, talking me through the whole process. I didn’t want to be an Omega. I honestly expected to present as an Alpha, like my mother. But both of us got the Omega gene from our dad, I guess. Calvin was everything to me. He died of Foresaken Omega Syndrome.” I can already feel my voice growing thick, but I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. I dig my nails into my palms, knowing that, if I were to unfurl them, crescent moons would greet me.
“It’s a devastating illness. No one deserves to go that way.” Either Bridgette is being sincere, or she’s a great actress.
“I was there with him in the end.” My voice is barely above a whisper, but I’m mic’d up, so it shouldn’t be an issue being heard on cameras. “I held his hand as he passed. It was not a peaceful death, Bridgette.”
Don’t think about it.
I can’t think about it.
“I promised myself, then and there, that I would never allow myself to be put in that situation. I was never going to find a scent match. I was never, under any circumstance, going to have an Alpha.”
“Which is why you’ve not left your home in years,” she concludes. “This must be stressful for you.”
My laugh is watery. “Sure, we’ll go with stressful. It’s been eight years since I’ve gone farther than my driveway, and here I am, hours from home, trying to keep it together in front of you all, when all I want is to hide under my covers.”
Another understatement. Right now, I’d rather die than be here.
“That’s understandable. Now, I have to pointsomething out to our viewers at home.” Bridgette turns toward the camera. “Ariana is not on heat suppressants, despite production recommending that she get a prescription for them. We can’t require it, of course, but it is standard practice in television for Omegas to go on low-level suppressants before filming begins. Would you like to talk about your reasoning behind avoiding them?”
Can I blame my red cheeks on the heat from the stage lighting? Talking about my suppressant use is just the tip of the iceberg of the personal information they’re going to find out about me through this process. Still, it doesn’t make the conversation any easier.
“I know it was hard for production to understand, but there is a risk to developing FOS when suppressants are used too often, for too long. Will going on them once cause it? Probably not. But I do whatever I can to mitigate the risk, since I have a family history of severe presentation of the disease.”
“Now everything is starting to make sense. You’ve stayed home to avoid exposure to Alphas.”
“I thought that was obvious?” She giggles girlishly at my response, and I fight a frustrated eye roll. I’m glad my trauma is amusing. “If I don’t meet an Alpha, I can’t scent match, I can’t get FOS.”
“But meeting Sax was worth that risk?” she asks, pivoting the conversation back to the real reason we’re here. “Because while we have tried to limit your exposure to Alphas, it’s unavoidable. We have several Alphas on our crew.”
I met a few of them earlier, and they tried their best to keep their distance. I was still able to detect their scent, which means I was exposed to their pheromones. I held my breath until I realized none of them was my scent match,but every time I realized what was happening, I felt like I was going to be sick.
“Yeah, it is. Sax has been my closest friend since I was sixteen. He was there with me when my brother died. He’s been such a major figure in my life, and he’s so important to me, that I could not turn down this opportunity. Getting accepted to the show was the kick in the pants I needed to finally take this leap.”
“So you’ve never tried to meet up before? He never came to visit?”
“We don’t know where the other lives. We never even exchanged names. But it doesn’t change how I feel about him. How I’ve felt about him for so long. We may not have met in person, but we have videochatted for years. He’s gorgeous, frankly, but that’s not what pulls me toward him. He’s smart and clever, funny and flirty, sensitive and kind. He’s the whole package. Everything I’ve always dreamed about having in a partner.”
I get quiet when I realize they might play this clip for Sax. I’ve never said anything like this to him before, and now I am spilling my guts to the world before I do to him.
I’m going to consider it a practice run for when I say this to his face. I need to get the words right.
“He sounds dreamy.” Bridgette rests her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand. “So you expect him to be exactly who he says he is?”
“I do. You can’t know someone this long and not know who they are at their core. I know Sax. I’m excited to finally get the opportunity to hug him. To feel his heartbeat beneath my ear. It’s cheesy, I know. But Sax is a part of me. He’s… fuck.” Bridgette winces at my swear, and I slap my hand to my mouth. “Sorry. I can’t say that, can I? I was just going to say that he’s everything. I love him. And as terrifying as it is, it’s also liberating to know that I’m finally going to get to tell him that. Wait.” I lean forward and touch the back of Bridgette’s hand. “You’re not going to play this for him, are you? I want him to hear it from me first. Not through a recording.”
She smiles indulgently. “Of course not. This is just between our viewers at home and us. I don’t think anyone wants to take that moment from you two. I know he’s anxiously awaiting seeing you, as well. What do you think was his motivation for agreeing to come on the show? Have you two talked about it since you were accepted?”
I shake my head and cross one leg over the other to keep myself from bouncing my knee. Do I have to pee, or is it just anxiety? “No, production required that we cut off communication once we both accepted our invitations here. I hate it. It’s been months. I miss my friend.”
Bridgette claps and turns toward the camera. “Well, Ariana is not going to have to miss him for much longer! Tomorrow, she’ll head into the house and meet the man behind the screen.” She turns to me with a dazzling white smile on her face. “Are you ready, Onion?”
Hearing my screen name from her makes my stomach do a flip.
If I needed any proof that this is real, that’s it.
