“What do you want me to say?”
She sighed and wrung her arms. Stretched them out in front of her.
“I want you to be honest. To level with me here.”
“I am. You want me to quote from my latest work appraisal?”
“Not really.”
“Sometimes brilliant, sometimes overconfident and sometimes deeply unprofessional. Often lacks empathy for the client.”
I grinned evilly. It was the truth. I’d omitted the rest of that quote. Things I was not going to share.
“I think,” Gina started. “I think you’re just as frightened as everyone else in here. I think you’re scared of actually finding love. There is someone in this building who has been determined to be the perfect match for you, but if you keep deflecting all those things we as humans feel? If you can’t talk about who you are and show other people exactly that? How are you going to connect?”
“I think you’ll find that the show will do all that for me.” I leant back. I was being a dick. Right back to being sixteen and stupid again. I didn’t understand why.
“You’re here to do the work,” she said sternly. “Work with the team, work with me and mostly work with your fellow contestants. That will yield the result you came here for, nothing else.”
“And what result will that be? That some old guy with grey hair will magically fall in love with me?”
I was being mean. And for a second there, I felt…unease. Like I was being mean to the wrong person.
“Are you falling in love?” she asked, like it was a legitimate question.
“After what? It’s been what, a week?” I said, looking straight at her. She knew, she knew exactly how ridiculous this was. Her face told a million stories, though. She was just as exhausted as I was. Sick and tired of this absolute farce.
“I know Peter is exactly the opposite of what you asked for. Your shopping list of traits for your ideal partner was everything Peter’s not. But he’s…” She stopped and turned to the cameramen. “Can you two leave us for a sec? Cut the cameras. Just a few minutes.”
I didn’t like this. I didn’t think I liked any of it. I’d expected something completely different here, and laying myself bare with nothing to say? I had nothing to say.
“I’m not interested. Me as a person is nothing I want to talk about. I haven’t had an interesting life, nor have I got some…what was it you said earlier? A fun back story?”
I really hated this. And I had nobody here to rescue me. No Peter to drag me away.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly, this Gina.
It was just her and me. And I didn’t know what was worse, that I was sweating and shaking or that she was just staring at me. No cameras. Well. I didn’t trust that part.
“Yeah,” I said. I wasn’t.
“There are people you can talk to, no need to even mention it. The on-set mental health team is here twenty-four seven. Just go see them. That is what they are here for.”
“I’m fine,” I said sternly. I was. I could cope. I just… I was shivering, everywhere. I needed a cigarette. I needed a hit. I needed something that wasn’t this.
“Then what the fuck, Oliver?”
She said that in a voice that sounded far too calm.
I said nothing. And the sweat dripping from my forehead was embarrassing.
“I…” What was I supposed to say? Admit to all my shortcomings? “Peter’s a nice guy. No complaints. I just want to get all this over and done with and go home.”
“Not what we want to hear.” Gina sighed.
“It’s what I can offer,” I replied.
“I think you like him,” she said quietly. “I can tell.”
