Chapter 20 The Conversation Pit of Hell
THE CONVERSATION PIT OF HELL
DEAN
I thought the time I barfed my guts out at Applebee’s would be the most humiliating moment of my life. This afternoon, however, is proving that new and worse levels of public shame are always within my reach.
Siddharth and Adin make obnoxious smooching noises whenever I walk past. Beck and Vendredi coo if me and Seyoon so much as look at each other. I’m sure my face is going to stay red like a beet forever. But our plan worked. It’s working.
Blake orders all of us to film at a few more locations around camp.
The cafeteria, around the campfire with fake marshmallows to roast (so they don’t burn during all the reshoots), and through the woods on one of the nature trails for a totally leisurely, not at all scripted walk.
The long day of filming, cameras in our faces, and producer puppeteering is starting to wear on everyone’s patience. Mine included.
We’re finally at our last set of the day: the rec room in the Communal Cabin.
It’s a large common area with windows that stretch from the oak floors to the vaulted ceiling, showcasing the trees swaying in the evening breeze outside.
Branches occasionally sweep by and graze the glass, like long fingers reaching out for us.
There’s a foosball and pool table in one corner, a kitchen in the other, and in the middle, comfy sofas form a conversation pit.
Noticeably, there’s no television in the room.
They’re strict about not giving us access to the outside world.
Even now, out of habit, I find my fingers twitching for the phone that isn’t in my back pocket.
Seyoon plops on the couch, and I sit next to her.
I misjudge the distance and accidentally brush our thighs together.
Her skin is warm, just like it was when I grabbed her hip on the paddleboard.
The sensation of her breath tickling my lips, her fingers at the nape of my neck, and the memory of how her brown eyes looked like molten gold in the sunshine flood my mind all over again.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it all day. She shifts on the sofa, and I jolt.
Seyoon whispers in my ear, “Can you act normal, please?”
I glance around, then subtly cover my mic. “I’m trying. This is awkward. Don’t you feel awkward?”
Seyoon tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear with a smirk. “Nah. Nothing gets to me. I’m too good at everything I do.” She muffles her own mic now. “Even pretending to be in love with President Nerd.”
God, she’s annoying. I’m about to let her know as much when my attention is drawn to her cheek puckering as she chews on it from the inside.
I narrow my eyes at the action. She does that a lot.
I used to have that habit, too, until I switched to picking at the skin around my nails when I felt anxious.
Huh.
“You have a bad poker face,” I say.
Seyoon frowns and tucks another strand of hair behind her other ear. “No, I don’t.”
“You totally do. You don’t know what you’re doing, either. I knew it.”
A pretty shade of pink crawls up her throat.
She closes her fist over her mic tighter and leans in close.
“Okay, fine, it’s a little weird that everyone thinks we’re sucking face, but if it’s what will get us closer to that grand prize, nothing else matters.
” Seyoon sits back, an easy confidence sliding over her features.
“No one can throw me off my game. Not what the others think, not a million cameras everywhere, and not even you.”
That makes something burn in my gut. Jealousy. I don’t have even a fraction of the self-assurance Seyoon has. I wear my doubts as a second skin, my insecurities as an oversized coat.
Well. If she can pretend like none of this affects her, maybe I can too.
Blake and Garrett corral everyone onto the sofas. The cameras start rolling again, each stationed at different corners of the room to capture every angle.
“I know you kids are tired from a long day of filming,” Garrett says, “and probably sick of each other’s company, which is perfect.
” Blake kicks him in the heel nonchalantly, and he winces.
“I mean, not ideal for our purposes at all. But don’t worry, all you have to do here is have a conversation. Easy peasy, right? You’ll just—”
Carter groans. “We’ve been doing this for hours already. You don’t have enough footage of us talking by now?”
“Shut up, dude,” Vendredi snaps. “You complaining only slows us all down.”
My eyebrows raise. Her uncharacteristic sharpness pulls some of us out of our heat-stricken, hungry, exhausted dazes.
Vendredi leans heavily on the arm of the adjacent sofa, kneading the bridge of her nose.
She mentioned a headache earlier, but it wasn’t enough to get her out of filming.
It must be getting to her. Blood rushes to Carter’s puckered face.
Blake clears her throat and shoos Garrett away. She turns to us with a more genuine smile. “Thank you all for hanging in there. I promise, we’re almost done. I even have a little incentive to motivate you.”
Siddharth perks up. “Money?”
Adin leans over him. “Food?”
“Sleep?” Beck asks pathetically.
TSW Studios would like to assure viewers at home that Forest Feud provides adequate meals and breaks to its contestants.
“No. Better,” Blake says with a sparkle in her eye. “Whoever gives the most entertaining and convincing performance will receive a hint that will help them in tomorrow’s challenge.”
Now that wakes us up. Seyoon and I exchange a look.
Tense energy thrums in the space between the seven of us as assistants hand us props and adjust our positions. Blake steps back behind the line of cameras.
“Beck. Can you ask Seyoon and Dean how they got together?”
She falls into character like a flip being switched. It’s extremely apparent how much being on another reality show and having two former contestants as parents give her an advantage.
“So,” Beck starts, voice airy. “You two looked cozy on the lake today. When did”—she wags her finger between us—“this start?”
Blake nods, impressed. Before I have time to think of something, Seyoon hops in.
“After the first challenge,” she says. She scoots impossibly closer—our thighs fully pressed against each other now—and lays a hand on my knee.
I jerk on reflex, and she squeezes, digging her nails into my skin.
Act normal. “There’s so much history here, you know, with our parents being in the same season. We connected instantly.”
“Dive deeper into that, Seyoon,” Blake prompts. “What drew you to him?”
Her fingers twitch on my knee. “Um, well…”
She swallows visibly, gnawing on her bottom lip as she thinks. Some part of me preens. Seyoon can bluff as much as she wants, but she also has no experience in this department.
Maybe I can throw her off her game, despite what she’d like to think.
Ignoring the anxiety screaming in the back of my mind, I lean back and snake my arm around Seyoon’s waist. She jolts.
“I was first drawn to Seyoon because of her humility,” I say, managing not to laugh. “I thought the way she handled losing that first challenge after saying she was going to beat me was really admirable. It takes a lot of courage to keep your head up high after that.”
Somebody snorts in the corner. I wipe my mouth to keep it from turning up.
She must catch the mirth in my expression anyway, and I see the exact moment she figures out what I’m doing.
Her nails dig in deeper around my patella.
It’s worth it. After everything she’s put me through, I’ll admit it.
It feels a little good to get Seyoon as flustered as she always makes me, for once.
Alright. It feels really good.
But I shouldn’t have underestimated her desire to come out on top.
Seyoon twists toward me and flashes an alluring smile, eyes half-lidded like she’s charmed. “That’s so sweet. But not as sweet as when you wrote me a poem comparing my eyes to the night sky.”
Is she out of her mind? Don’t answer that. I already know.
“I didn’t—”
Seyoon lifts her brow, a silent provocation. You ready to yield so soon?
Like hell I’m going to let her win something I started. “I didn’t have anything better to compare them to,” I say. “Your beauty outshines anything in the world. The closest thing would be… the heavens.”
Whatever tiny shred of dignity I might’ve had walking into this room just shriveled up and died. Hopefully, I will too.
The camera closest to us walks over, probably to capture the way both our faces are on fire. Seyoon’s mouth falls. For the first time, she’s speechless. Something about being the one to elicit that kind of reaction from her makes electricity tingle along my spine.
“Wow,” she laughs. “You’re quite the romantic, huh?”
“I mean,” I force myself to say without cracking. I’m suddenly grateful for all those cliché romance books we read in book club. “Nothing comes close to you whittling my face into a tree. It’s really you who’s the sentimental one.”
Adin gasps and puts his hands over his heart, then seems to remember where he is and settles back down.
CONFESSION TAPE—Adin Zavary, Contestant
Alright, I’m secretly a huge romantic at heart. There, I said it, you happy? I love sappy rom-coms and soap operas and all of it. But don’t tell anyone, okay? Especially not Sidd.
Blake leans over the back of the adjacent sofa, a nearly maniacal grin on her face.
The glint in her eye—hungry, almost—is very familiar.
That’s not the prim, calm director we were introduced to on the first day on set.
That’s the host from the old days of Forest Feud.
The one who had a reputation for personally contriving drama between her contestants.