40. Kieran
KIERAN
Producer: “What’s going on? What was Jace apologizing for?”
Kieran: “Nothing.”
Fuck. How is this happening?
How?
How is JR the same guy who used to shove me into lockers?
The same guy who called me Sparkles as an insult and switched out my gym uniform and locked me in a fucking shed?
The same guy who fooled me into falling for him senior year, only to later break my heart when he was done with trading good luck blowjobs?
And how am I supposed to believe he’s the same person who made me laugh so hard my stomach hurt? The one I was picturing my future with. It feels like I’m mourning that life, that future, as anger and heartbreak battle it out in my chest.
It doesn’t make sense. When I think of JR, I think of warmth. I think of someone who is funny, kind, and thoughtful, the person I desperately wanted that imaginary future with.
When I think of Jace—who is somehow JR—I think of him laughing at my expense.
He tried to make my life smaller, he refused to let me be me, wanting me to fit with his version of what was acceptable.
He had his best friend threaten me, maybe even told him to attack me, and I ended up in a hospital bed with a broken wrist and a concussion.
They can’t possibly be the same person.
I even had that thought when I met JR. I told myself from the start that there were thousands of people in New York City with those initials. That there was no way in hell Jace Ryan would be on a queer dating show. And yet… here we are.
I try to calm myself down as I grip the vanity, but it isn’t working.
My breathing is rapid, and my eyes sting.
My whole world feels like it’s crashing down around me as I try to fuse two truths together that can’t possibly coexist: I hate him.
And I’m falling for him. Was falling for him? I don’t know.
The contradiction makes me furious, and I feel like I’m eighteen again. Scared, hurt, heartbroken, and confused.
When I imagined us meeting, I pictured both of us breaking out into huge smiles, feeling instant attraction because of the connection we’d built. I pictured them leaning in to kiss me and feeling like I’d finally found my other half, a sense of being complete in a way I’ve never experienced.
I could’ve never imagined what actually happened, and now I don’t know how to move forward.
I pace the bathroom, and my jaw aches from how tightly I’m clenching it. I splash water on my face to try to relax, some drips onto my shirt, and I don’t even bother wiping it off. My whole body feels hot and tight, and I want to scream.
And underneath it all is the reality that, even if the future I was imagining with JR can never happen, this doesn’t just get to end. I can’t go home tomorrow without facing the consequences of more than just another broken heart from Jace.
I’m a public figure. I’ve seen what happens to friends who’ve gone through public breakups.
The constant commentary from strangers who are suddenly experts in your life.
People taking sides based on nothing. I’ve seen the toll it’s taken on friends not only trying to grieve their relationship but trying to navigate the comments and the slander without letting it negatively impact their careers, which are unfortunately so rooted in public opinion.
And now, that could be me.
Coming on this show was already a risk. One that I’d hoped would be worth it to meet the one. All I want is to find the person I’m meant to share my life with, and yet, somehow, the universe brought me back to Jace-fucking-Ryan.
And somehow, after all this time, and all the pain he’s caused me, I’m still attracted to him.
Jace is still making me feel things no one else ever has.
And yes, one of those things is definitely anger, but apparently all the amazing things I was feeling this morning were also because of him.
And there’s the smallest, tiniest, quietest part of me that wonders if it’s for a reason, wonders if this is how we can rewrite our story.
But I can’t fall for that.
Now I’m faced with a situation I never considered, and ending things with JR on television before they even officially start face-to-face would turn me into the villain.
Even if I told the truth—that he was my bully in high school—half the internet would say I’m the one bullying him now for not giving him a chance.
I would have no control over how they edit the show, over how the world would see me.
Which means leaving immediately isn’t an option.
So that means I’m staying… with Jace.
As much as I hate to admit it, the best and safest thing for me to do here, really, is to play along and continue with the process as expected.
My eyes sting even more as my tears start to fall.
I’m so angry at him for hurting me all those years ago.
I’m so angry at the show for casting him.
I’m so angry at myself for feeling such a strong pull to him.
I’m so angry that I’d be the one ripped apart by the media if I walked away.
Not him. As far as I know, no one knows who he is.
I’ll be the self-absorbed celebrity who thinks the “regular person” isn’t good enough for him or whatever bullshit headline they come up with. But not Jace. Of course not him.
More tears break free, and I swipe them away as I shake my head. I’ve cried enough over this man in my lifetime. I’m not going to cry now.
He said he’ll do whatever I ask him to. Fine.
I’m asking him to be strategic with me. If I can’t have the relationships I came here for, the one I’m currently mourning, then I need to shift my focus.
There will be a huge audience watching this, some who know me, most who don’t.
If he’s willing to pretend to be my boyfriend, we’re going to be the best damn couple this show has ever seen.
We’ll give them exactly the kind of “look at this perfect romance” footage they love.
I might not be in the editing room, but I know how to create good content.
And when it’s over, we’ll fade out. After Jace signs his NDA, we can have a lowkey mutual breakup. I’ll share my side of the story on my terms.
The thought makes me feel a bit more in control for the first time since seeing Jace. This isn’t the ending I wanted—it’s the furthest thing from it—but at least I have a plan.
I take one last look in the mirror, telling myself to pull it together. I flatten my expression, not wanting Jace to see how much he’s wrecked me, and when I open the bathroom door, he’s already in bed. On the right side.
His eyes land on me as I cross the room to my side without a word, pulling the covers back and sliding in.
His shirt is off, and I refuse to look at his thick hairy chest. I hate how attracted to him I am.
Jace starts to say something, but I cut him off. I’m so far past what I can handle tonight; I just need today to be done. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I turn off the bedside lamp and attempt to settle in.
My plan might not be perfect, but it’s the best I can come up with for now, and that thought allows me to eventually drift off to sleep, even with Jace sleeping beside me.