Sax’s words are a mantra, running through my mind every time I lift my foot.
I want to do this, don’t I?
I want to meet Sax.
I don’t want to be a prisoner in my home, my body, my mind.
Okay.
One more step.
One.
More.
Step.
“Could you… Can I close my own door?” I ask Paul, still several feet from the door.
Paul nods, the expression on his face morphing from frustrated to kind, as he circles the car and slides into the driver’s seat.
“There we go,”Drew’s gentle voice fills my ear.“You’re doing so great. You’ve got this, Ariana.”
“And when I get there, only Betas?” I confirm, my hand on the car door. “You promise?”
“Several of the light and sound crew are Alphas, but Bridgette and Bradley are Betas, so are your hair and makeup artists for the introduction interview. We’re doing our best, but you did sign a contract that we could not be held liable for exposure to Alpha pheromones.”
That contract was non-negotiable for them. I had a lawyer look it over, and they said it was enforceable, but that it was only going to be used if I came after thenetwork for emotional distress or medical bills, should I unfortunately develop FOS from Alpha exposure.
I didn’t feel great putting my signature on that line, but I did. Almost like I was signing away my life.
It’s worth it, though, because I’m going to see Sax.
I’m going to see Sax.
I slide onto the bench seat in the back of the car, and it takes me another minute of deep breaths and Drew encouraging me in my ear before I can pull the door closed. As if worried I’m going to leap out of the car at any moment, Paul doesn’t wait for me to put on my seatbelt before driving me away from safety.
“This iswhere you’ll be staying until you move into theExpectedhouse.” Drew scans a keycard and opens the door to a boring and basic room that looks like it’s from a mid-level chain hotel, with its mass-produced art and a chair in a corner that may or may not be for cuckolding.
The room is plain, with a bathroom, a sitting area, and a bed all shoved into a small space like a studio apartment, but I’m not concerned. I’ll only be here for two days before I move into the house.
The flight here was atrocious. Paul sat in the farthest seat away from me, and I spent most of it with headphones on, blaring music through noise-cancelling headphones, a hoodie pulled over my head, and my face in my e-reader. Anything to try to help me forget that I was in the air and not on my comfortable couch.
Now that I’m here, having taken three anxiety medsright at the recommended time between doses, I’m going to try my best to make the most of this.
Even if I flinch every time someone walks beside me.
This will be worth it.
I’m going to meet Sax.
It will be worth it. It has to be.
TheExpectedhouse is the focal piece of the compound Paul drove me to once we arrived. Several small buildings have been built around it, including this one. The crew lives in a lot of them because they film four seasons in a six-month period, which means they have one to air every quarter. Once filming starts, the property goes on lockdown.
Everyone comes ontoExpectedknowing they will have to stay an entire week in the house, and a few days before it for filming extras and interviews. America loves a peek into the beginning of a relationship, and into the difficulties the couple faces as they uncover the lies they’ve both told.
Knowing I have to be away from my home, from my room, for over a week, makes my skin itch. One benefit of having a crew around is that I don’t want to make a fool of myself by having a meltdown in front of the cameras, so I’m fighting to keep myself together.
