Chapter 47 Palace
Palace
“This is such bullshit,” Yumi says, slamming her hand on the flimsy black folding table. She blows a bubble with her gum, popping it sharply in annoyance while staring me down. “You’re the worst.”
“Sorry, babe. That’s the game,” I say gently, watching as she picks up at least half the deck and adds it to her hand.
“So, you’re just not good at any games, then?” Matt asks as he places a four of spades in the space Yumi cleared.
Her mouth falls open in disbelief. “I’m at least thirteen seconds better at some games than two other people at this table.”
Morgan gasps, affronted as she lays down a seven of diamonds. “What did I do to deserve being brought into this?”
“You hang around haters, you catch some strays,” Yumi replies.
Fighting back a laugh, I play a two. Twos reset the pile, allowing you to put any card you want on top, even if it isn’t higher than the card before. I flip my three of spades on top, leaving one card in my hand—an ace.
Yumi’s eyes narrow in on my last card. I give her a pleasant smile, because no matter what anyone plays, I’ve already won.
Holding my gaze, she stacks the remaining threes on top of mine, clearing the pile by creating four of a kind.
She slides the cards over to the discard area and starts the pile again with a four.
Then it’s Matt’s turn. He glances at the singular card in my hand before laying down three aces—his last three cards—and winning the game.
“No way,” I exhale, tossing my ace on top of the pile. “Yumi’s right, this is bullshit.”
“That’s the game, babe,” she parrots back to me with a mocking pout, gathering the deck and shuffling it idly.
Matt pushes back from the table and stands with a stretch. “No more cards,” he declares through a yawn. “All this winning is taking a toll on me. Anyone want anything from craft services?”
I think it was probably during our sixth hour of killing time backstage before The Adventureverse’s reunion show that I decided never to eat another plate of craft services sushi in my life. “No, thanks.”
“I’m good,” Yumi agrees, rolling her neck.
Morgan volunteers to accompany Matt, and together they leave the greenroom holding hands.
The moment the door shuts behind them, Yumi turns to me, waggling her eyebrows. “Wanna make out till they get back?” she asks, playfully.
I scrunch my nose and shake my head. “There’s not nearly enough time.”
She stops her shuffling and places the deck face down on the table. In one smooth motion, she stands and slides into my lap. “Is that a challenge?”
There’s a knock at the door, and Yumi gives an exaggerated groan before rising to her feet. “Busted.”
I roll my eyes at her, calling, “Come in!”
The door opens just enough for Aliona to pop her face inside, practically unrecognizable in makeup.
The entire show, the production crew looked just as travel-worn as the teams did.
Seeing Bo and Petter wearing suits was more disorienting than a Swiss via ferrata.
“Can we be ready for hair and makeup in—” She pauses to look around the room. “Where are the Dancers?”
“Catering,” Yumi and I answer simultaneously.
“Oh, okay. Tell them to be ready for hair and makeup in fifteen, please. And if Matt puts up a fight on the makeup front, tell him he can kiss my introduction to the American Dance-Off producer goodbye.” She disappears without another word.
Eyes wide with excitement, Yumi turns to me. “They’re going to be on ADO? That’s so cool.”
I’m not surprised, to be honest; Matt and Morgan were a crowd favorite.
Of all the individual players from this season, Matt has gained the most followers (and fan edits) on social media.
The power of a hot, grumpy man with a heart of gold should never be underestimated.
And Morgan’s body positivity, though it draws classic internet hate for not fitting the current beauty standard, has earned her an engaged audience of dedicated fans and supporters.
They’re a reality TV power couple in the making.
Yumi smirks when she catches me staring at the clothing rack.
My outfit—a fitted powder blue crop top with matching wide-leg pants—hangs beside Yumi’s silky cerulean gown.
The company that invents matching outfits that don’t make sapphic couples look like bridesmaids in the same wedding is destined for greatness.
As it is, we spent months searching for the ideal difference in color, fabric, style, and silhouette, and in the end I had to concede the dress-wearing to her.
“Are you excited for tonight?” she asks.
Excited? I’m practically buzzing. I know I’ve been on TV for the last couple of months, but I’m going to be on it again.
And this is the reunion show, the glitziest part of any Adventureverse season.
It’s still surreal that we get to be part of it all.
“Nah,” I say, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss.
“Liar.” She chuckles, her mouth meeting mine. I can never get over how soft it is.
“Me? A liar?” I pull back with a gasp, laying an offended hand over my wounded heart. “You really think I would lie?”
Her laugh echoes off the walls of the small room.
“What’s so funny?” Morgan asks, pushing the door open.
“Oh, nothing.” Yumi’s gaze is fixed on my face, tracing the outline of my lips. “Right, Noe?”
I grin. “Right, babe.”