Episode 23 Kissing Frogs
No one is surprised when I have some of the lowest scores of the day. Second to last, only ahead of Julian, who couldn’t seem to fake it, likely because he’s been warned just like Tristan.
Petal stalks over to me when we’ve been dismissed for the day, bypassing the pack with a derisive sniff is so out of character for her, it makes her disdain for their actions clear.
“I cannot believe them,” she hisses as soon as she reaches Tristan and I. “Truly. Anyone with eyes can see how those kisses actually went.”
“And anyone with a pulse would have been turned on by them,” Tristan adds, looping my arm through his to guide me away.
Which is good because Courtland is stalking toward me with predator-like intent and the last thing I want is to be caught by him.
“It doesn’t matter. They’ll edit it so the kisses match the scores they gave me.
It's all part of the show.” I stare straight ahead, ignoring the looks the other omegas are casting my way.
Some are… Pitying? Like they feel sorry for me.
Which is frustrating as hell. I don’t want their pity.
“The last thing they’ll want to do is make the pack look like the bad guys.
So I guess that role will fall to me. Middling sloppy kisses and all. ”
Though honestly, I’m not sure what my role is supposed to be in this anymore.
I’d thought I was the foil to Isadora. I’d thought they were playing us off each other.
That ever present question of ‘Love or Duty’.
But there’s no way that’s the case if they scored me so low.
They must be planning on sending me home sooner rather than later.
It's the only thing that makes sense. This is them telling the world we don’t have any chemistry and without chemistry, there’s no point in keeping me.
Petal is still scowling at the guys, but she squeezes my hand. “What should we do? What will help?”
Honestly, if I could, I’d find an empty dance studio, blare the loudest angriest music I can find and fucking dance out my emotions. The urge to do that takes me entirely by surprise. It's been ages since I’ve felt it. Since before I woke up in a hospital bed with my knee in pieces.
Sure, I’ve been working toward dancing for myself again, but I’ve not felt this burning need to dance in almost two years.
I shake my head. “I suppose I could use some grounding.”
“Yoga?” Tristan suggests, already tugging me toward the small workout area I’ve used every day since we came here. Even if it's just for stretching.
“Yoga?” Tamsin calls from where she’s lingering near the buffet table.
“Yep,” Petal calls back, skipping next to me. Her anger at the pack dissipated already. It's amazing how quickly she can just get over things… though it's probably easier when she’s not the one they embarrassed the crap out of.
The four of us roll out our yoga mats, while the production team asks for the pack to go do confessionals. “Should we start with a beat of meditation?” Tristan asks, already dropping into a seated cross legged position.
For a moment I’m pretty stunned. I didn’t realize these omegas were paying such close attention to me, to my habits, even after we started holding an impromptu yoga class most days, I’m surprised they know I prefer to start with meditation and then move into yoga.
It helps me to clear my mind so I can focus on the flow.
There is absolutely no reason why this realization should make my throat tighten and my eyes sting. I just didn’t expect to find people who get me here. For so long I’ve only had that with Haven and my family.
On the heels of what my omega undoubtedly views as at least a partial rejection, it's… nice.
“Yeah, meditation first,” I agree, voice sounding choked.
Tristan tsks. “None of that, jalapeno. You’re far too good for all of this bullshit. Chin up, buttercup. Bright smile for the cameras and all that.”
I laugh, though it too sounds strangled. But then I drop onto the same seated position as the other omegas and take a deep inhale.
We’re nearing the end of our practice when the alphas return to the pool deck.
I pointedly avoid looking at them, pushing into a downward facing dog, ignoring the rush of omega feet over the cement to get to their sides.
Instead I focus on the hard won balance I’ve achieved in their absence. The calm. The… acceptance.
It is what it is.
And what it is, is me finally leaving the show.
That has to be the case given how poorly they scored me. This must have been part of their plan, a way to give a reason for not picking me to continue. If they make a point of how little chemistry we have, they can point to that when the fans question their decision.
She’s a great girl, but the spark just wasn’t there.
So sweet and genuine, but what can you do? The heart wants what it wants.
It’ll make them look thoughtful and kind and like they’re here for the right reasons when really it’s all for show, and I’m just a prop.
“Florence,” Forsythe’s voice hits me between my shoulder blades, making me wince. “A moment?”
I school my expression before glancing under my armpit at him. “I’m busy.”
Tamsin sucks in a sharp breath, but she keeps holding her downward dog, which is good. Tristan snorts and Petal makes an adorable little growling sound at the prince.
“Okay,” I say in my best soothing voice. “Everyone make your way to the top of the mat. Forward fold. Generous bend in your knees to help stretch the lower back.”
“Florence.” The prince grits out and when I look at him again his hands are fisted and his jaw is clenched tight.
“Ground down through your feet. Really press your toes into the mat as we roll up to mountain pose. Hands together at the heart. Close your eyes and take a deep breath in.”
“Ren,” Lulu hisses at me, followed by the snap of her fingers. With a sigh I open my eyes and find her glaring hard at me before she points at Forsythe. The order is clear.
But… I just really don’t want to hear what he has to say. I don’t want to hear an apology, or a gentle let down or a ‘you knew that was coming, didn’t you?’
“Fine,” I say, sharper than I’ve ever been while leading a class. But that’s what this pack does, what this situation does, makes me prickly. Haven is going to be so disappointed when I come back not as her sunshine girl, but as a stormy little raincloud. “I suppose we’ll leave it there.”
“We’ll put the mats away, Ren,” Petal says softly, reaching out to squeeze my fingers, while Tristan folds his arms over his considerable chest and glares at the prince. Which is a new development. He’s usually all simpering smiles and outrageous flirting.
“Thanks.”
The male omega slides a look my way. “If you need help later with some deeper stretches, I’m available. We can really get in there and work out any tension you’re feeling.”
I can’t stop the smile from forming on my lips. I know exactly what he’s doing. The self-satisfied smirk on his lips when Sythe lets out a low growl tells me he got the reaction he wanted.
“I’ll let you know, Tris. I really appreciate the offer. I do have a lot of tension to work out, so it might take a while.”
He bends and presses a kiss to my cheek, lingering for a moment, before he murmurs, “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
Forsythe is seething when the male omega pulls away from me, knuckles white. But he only gives me a polite nod when I arch my brows at him. “Shall we?”
I follow him through the pool area over to a white curtained cabana, with two lounge beds inside. The rest of the pack is there, waiting, tense. Even Piers is lingering at the edges of the space.
Steady, Florence, don’t let them see they’ve hurt you. More importantly, don’t let the cameras see.
With that thought in mind I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. Sythe’s hand brushes against the bare skin of my lower back sending a jolt through me, but I keep that reaction on lock down, and resist the gentle nudge to move further into the cabana.
“Bubbles,” Grieves murmurs, dark grey eyes latched onto me, elbows on his knees, hands clasped between them. “Sit down.”
“No, thank you, my lord. I prefer to stand. I’m sure I won’t be here all that long. After all, I’m rough around the edges and over enthusiastic and unpolished. Very… midrange. Would hate to force you to spend time with someone like that.”
“Pix, come on. Don’t be like this. You-”
“No,” I hold up a hand to stall whatever he’s going to say, because I can tell it's something like, ‘you can’t be mad at us for this when you’ve always known where this was going’.
“You don’t get to tell me how to feel about anything, my lord.
I can be exactly like this after- after-” My fists clench together and my chest gets tight and hurt and frustration seep up into my throat, into my words. “After you embarrassed me like that.”
“That was never the intention, killer. You must know we would never want to hurt you.”
I bark out an unamused laugh. “Right. Let’s see, what did you say to other omegas to let them down gently?
‘Technically perfect but missing the chemistry behind it.’ ‘Graceful, elegant… it just felt like something meant for the cameras, not for me.’ ‘Lovely energy, but it felt more like a greeting than a kiss.’ Whereas I got…
downright insulted. Seems pretty intentional to me.
” They all exchange a look that I don’t bother to try to decode, instead I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose, like that will help alleviate the stinging in my eyes, the threat of tears.
“I assume I’ll be sent home tonight? That’s what you wanted to let me know, right?
That’s why you wanted to speak to me. It's really not necessary. I got the second lowest score. Of course I’m going home.
” I drop my hand and open my eyes. “Are we done now, my lords?”