“Okay, for the record, I’m clearly Geppetto. But, like, way younger and hotter.”
She bit her tongue, hard, to keep her lips from twitching. “Go. Away.”
“Right-o, leader of Team Helsing.” He began to swing off his seat, then paused and leaned back, adding, “It flows better without the ‘Van.’ ”
Sierra watched him trot down the aisle before turning her gaze toward the window. Everyone was going to lose their minds when they heard the team name.How appalling! Distasteful! Disrespectful to her sister’s memory!
There’d be such an outcry, perhaps no one would pick up on the fact that Van Helsing was more than a callback to last season’s finale.
It was the name of the one who’d slain the monster.
12
Adi
Adi’s phone buzzed multiple times in his jeans pocket while histeam waited backstage for filming. He checked the messages.
Symphony: Talked to the tow company. Evidently my entitled, ungrateful son thought he could leave my baby illegally parked.
Symphony: What the hell is wrong with you?
Symphony: You’re lucky the tow truck driver was a fan.
Symphony: But you’re paying me back for the parking ticket.
Symphony: Are you getting these? Don’t ignore me, Aditya Parvesh. I made you and I can unmake you!
Whoa. It had been a long time since she pulled out that particular threat. Adi switched his phone to Do Not Disturb as the teams were called on stage.
On television, the studio backdrop where the eliminations were filmed had a moody, steampunk-inspired vibe. Drapes of burgundy fabric, enormous brass gears like the inner workings of a clock, intricate keys and padlocks hanging like chandeliers from rustic metal pipes.
But in real life, the effect was underwhelming. As an intern set the teams up on a series of two-step risers, Adi saw the dust gathered in the folds of the curtains, the bits of glue and scaffolding barely holding everything together.
His team had been put on the final riser, stage left, farthest from where Fitzy was getting accosted with powder brushes and hair spray. Adi and Sierra—with her enormous boots—stood on the second riser, towering over Carter and Beck in the front.
“Oh my god,” Carter whispered as they waited for filming to begin. “I’m so nervous.”
She was in a white off-the-shoulder knitted top and black leather pants, totally different from the Mathletes sweatshirt she’d been wearing around the villas. The nerdy glasses were back on, too. The swing in her personality was dizzying and, honestly, a bit annoying. No one else was trying so hard in front of the cameras.
“They’re just handing out the snags,” Adi said. “No one’s getting eliminated.”
“I know that.” She peeked at him over her bare shoulder. “It’s still terrifying. What if I get turned into a meme?”
Adi lifted an eyebrow. “That’swhat you’re afraid of ?” He’d assumed she’d be desperate for attention.
“Being immortalized on the internet for one embarrassing facial expression or ridiculous comment? Yeah, of course I am. Aren’t you?”
Ah. So she couldn’t handle criticism.
“That’s funny,” said Beck. “Being turned into a meme is pretty much my life’s ambition.”
“Been there, done that,” said Sierra.
They looked at her, and it took Adi a moment to remember the memes he’d seen on the Domain’s forums when he’d been researching the show. Jokes about Wednesday Addams. Jokes about goth girlfriends. Jokes about murder.
Adi studied her expression as she stared straight ahead, but it was hard to tell under the thick makeup whether she was sorry, embarrassed, proud, or something else.
The answer would depend on whether she regretted killing her sister. And that, of course, depended on why she did it in the first place.
