Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Courtney
When I woke up this morning, I went in search of Noah immediately but was quickly blocked off by a security guard or a crew member who looks like he eats five thousand grams of protein a day and can shit a llama. Yeah, I know. That visual wasn’t great for me either.
They said that the guys and girls were being separated for the day before the ceremony, which I felt was really weird, but hey, what do I know about running a reality TV show, right?
Luna and I spent the day sunbathing by the pool, though some of the girls started getting ready for tonight at ten in the morning—literally.
No hate to them, I know some of them are really excited and anxious.
I just don’t know how it’s physically possible to work on your appearance for ten hours.
Luna takes a bite of the huge salad she made us before she looks out at the ocean from her lounge chair. “You think I’m making the right choice?” she asks.
I can’t see half her face behind her giant sunglasses, but I’ve spent enough time with her already to be able to read how fucking nervous she is.
“Yeah. Why are you second-guessing yourself?”
Her leg shakes anxiously as she shrugs. “I came here searching for someone who really wanted me. Me, you know. As a first pick, not a consolation prize. If I pick him, I know who he’ll be thinking of,” she says, giving me a heavy look.
I roll my eyes. “Stop. You’re reading wayyy too much into it. You said your date went great and that the kiss was even better.”
“Yeah, it was. I don’t know. This is making me all insecure and shit, and I hate it,” she says, shivering, like she’s allergic to emotions.
I laugh and nod. I’d be lying if I said I was completely at ease. I mean, I think this entire scenario is designed to make us all go fucking crazy. And clearly it’s working.
“Trust your gut, fuck the rest,” I say.
Luna nods seriously, like those are the most prophetic words she’s ever heard in her life.
“Trust your gut, fuck the rest,” she repeats.
I smile at her and rub her back encouragingly.
I used to always come up with ridiculous inspirational one-liners like that for Lily.
Even when they didn’t make any goddamn sense, they brought her a sense of calm.
My heart aches thinking about her. Even if I can’t talk to her, I wish I could just hear how she’s doing.
The only thing getting me through each day is remembering how much money I’m earning every single day I sit my ass by this pool.
Plus, I know how mercilessly she would roast me if she realized I was sitting here heartbroken over missing her instead of getting ready to choose the hot man I could potentially marry one day.
Whoa. That’s a wild concept. I mean, obviously Noah and I are nowhere near there.
At all. Crazier things have happened, though, right?
That is the point of this whole game-show thing.
But, I mean, even if we don’t make it far in the show, even if we don’t win, there’s always the real world.
I don’t know. The possibility fills me with a little… hope, I guess. Excitement even?
A few hours out from the locked-in ceremony, Luna dragged me upstairs to get ready.
I didn’t even get a choice on what to wear.
She laid out a gorgeous dress that would normally be entirely too strappy for my taste before she jumped in the shower and started getting ready herself.
Somehow, she was able to shower, shave, wash her hair and dry it all in the time it took me to get dressed. The woman is a witch, I swear.
Actually, I joked about that one time, and she said she has family that live in Salem to this day.
Her mom’s maiden name is Proctor, and their descendants were literally executed for witchcraft during the trials.
I guess she has a cousin or something who practically owns all of Salem.
Her and all of her husbands. Yeah, husbands, plural.
Whoever she is, that woman is really living her best life.
I begin to curl my hair, but someone slaps my hand, and Bella slides into place behind me.
She gives me a quick wink as she silently takes over the task.
I think I’ve quickly earned a reputation with the girls of being beauty-care inept.
I try! I just must not do a good-enough job for their standards.
Cora is one of the girls who finished early, and without a single word, she also comes over and begins doing my makeup. I smile at them gratefully.
“You guys don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine.”
“Yeah, sure. If I see you do your own hair and miss a third in the back, I’m gonna scream. Just shut up and say thank you,” Bella retorts with a raised brow.
“How can I shut up and say thank you at the same time?” I quip.
I wish I could control my smartass mouth sometimes. I really do.
Bella rolls her eyes, but I can tell she finds me amusing. If not, she has a red-hot curling wand at her disposal to dissuade me.
Soon, the girls are finished, and their masterpiece looks nothing like me. It’s like when you do a beauty filter and there’s the before and after. I’m usually the before, but now I’m the after.
“Oh, hell yes. Nicely done, ladies,” Luna says, smiling in approval when she sees me.
She’s wearing a peacock-inspired dress, yes, I shit you not, a peacock-inspired dress.
Green and blue with feathers over the neckline and some at the end like a train.
Honestly, it’s so perfect for her because if there was anyone in this place who’s a peacock, it’s her.
With her purple hair, something about it just fucking works.
I air-kiss the side of her cheek since Cora just slathered on “I just killed my husband” red lipstick across my mouth and I don’t want to permanently stain Luna’s face.
Luna picked out a beautiful deep-blue dress for me, but like I said, there are straps and skin on show everywhere.
Hence why it took so long to squeeze into it.
Cora went for a simple black dress that hugs her waist perfectly, and Bella is wearing a red bodycon that leaves nothing to the imagination.
Honestly, if at least one of the boys doesn’t swallow their tongues when they see her, I’m convinced they need glasses.
Kenzie, like me, was one of the last to get ready, but you wouldn’t know it when she comes out. She’s wearing a black satin dress that fans out at the bottom.
We all fawn over her, and she smiles humbly and waves us away like we’re too much. Honestly, everyone on this side of the glam room is giving green-flag vibes. The same can’t be said for the other side.
What’s the saying? Bitchy things come in threes?
If that’s not a saying, someone should jot it down immediately because it’s absolutely true in this case.
Kiera and Angel practically shove each other back and forth, fighting for one mirror as Savannah takes up two.
All three of their gazes meet ours, and the stare-off continues as they all move as one out the door.
“You think they’re just clones of one another or something?” Kenzie asks the room.
Bella nods. “Makes sense to me. You can only fit so much cunt in one body. They had to divide it up.”
Luna cackles. “I like you.”
Bella winks at her as we all turn and head out the door as well.
The instant we step outside, the difference is apparent. A huge stage has been built that overlooks the ocean, lined with tiki torches, overhead lights, candles and flowers. No expense was spared, and it shows.
In the middle of the stage is a large heart-shaped podium with the show’s logo in the middle and an array of bracelets and what looks like… locks?
“Locks? Are they going to, like, lock us up or something?” I whisper to Luna.
She snickers. “I mean, sounds kinky, I’m in.”
I shake my head. Honestly, wouldn’t surprise me at this point.
The guys are already all lined up on one side, and I don’t miss the appreciative look they give to each girl as we pass them.
My eyes linger on Noah for a second longer, and he puckers his lips like he’s blowing out a breath before he smiles at me.
I give him a little wave because I’m a fucking nerd like that, then follow the line to where the other girls are standing.
As per usual, the crew comes over and rearranges us how they see fit.
“Good evening, everyone. Damn, I’m not sure I’ve seen a better-looking group of people in my life!” Alex exclaims, gesturing to us all.
We all smile and nod in thanks as he continues running down how things will go.
The girls will be going first in no particular order.
When our name is called, we walk up to the podium and state which guy we’d lock in with.
The guy comes to the podium as well, and he’s asked if he wants to lock in.
If he says yes, Alex will place a lock on each of the bracelets they’ve passed out to us, officially “locking us in.” If the guy rejects the lock-in, the girl has to go back in line and wait until the other girls have gone to choose again.
Since this is their first year of doing things, Alex says it might feel a little clunky and to bear with them.
I guess they’ll handle most things in editing.
I look down at the simple gold bracelet.
This can’t be real gold, right? It’s gotta be that fake stuff you can get from the grocery store in the clothes section next to the deli?
I replay that question in my head, though, and realize I’m being stupid.
Of course it’s real gold. I wonder if we can keep the bracelets at the end of the show?
Or if they’ll notice it going missing? You know, just in case I don’t make it far in the competition.
“Alright, let’s get started!” Alex says as someone counts us down—three, two, one.
“Welcome back to Locked In: Season One. I’m your host, Alex Martins, and tonight, we’ll finally be able to see who’ll be locking in with whom. Cora, please step forward.”