Chapter 10
I roll my luggage up the cobblestone path.
“Be yourself and try hard to not look directly into the camera. If you find yourself looking there, look at me instead.”
Austin stands next to a camera man, walking backwards as they film me walking.
I found out that Austin’s responsible for all camerawork.
He decides how it’s filmed, where they’re placed, and what angles they should be using.
Irene, on the other hand, takes care of logistics.
She’ll be on and off set throughout the days, but her work will mostly be in the editing room after each filming day.
Is it weird that I thought dating shows are filmed normally? I didn’t think we’d go through an extensive process of getting our makeup done, having our outfits picked out, and getting our hair styled.
The styling artist scoured through my luggage and chose one of my favourite yellow sundresses.
The bottom hem reaches the top of my knee, and the dress is held up with a thick band around my neck, which clips onto a sunflower button in the back.
This has to be a staple piece in my closet.
When I turned eighteen, my sisters collectively bought it from the Alida Soani collection.
Her dresses are magnificent (any dress with pockets is a win), and I can’t afford them on my own, but I’m glad I have this one.
In a typical, Nova, nostalgic way, it feels like my sisters are with me.
When she unclipped my bun and the hair fell down to my lower back, skimming the top of my butt, the styling team were in awe.
There’s not a lot I’m proud of, but my hair is definitely at the very beginning of that list. Years of oiling after noticing a prominent bald spot and thinning led to this progress, thankfully .
It did suck because Rosa and Nadine have the most luscious Filipino- esque hair, while I struggled to hold onto mine.
It’s been curled and brushed through, now it’s bouncing around in the wind as I walk up. The cool air is a nice contrast to Toronto’s awful heat. The weather in the city is nothing like the Philippines, but when you’ve grown up your whole life near the water, it’s terrible.
Being here, though, is the real treat.
Mountains upon mountains.
Colour among green land.
Houses scattered over thick hills.
I’m getting déjà vu like I’ve been here before, but I never have.
“Wow,” I stop when I reach a certain spot that allows me to see the city of Lucerne resting below. The sun shines down on the brightest blue water I’ve ever seen. I can see the Chapel Bridge from here too.
There’s a rush of people swarming. Not as much as Toronto, but it’s there.
It’s gentle and comforting yet welcoming at the same time.
“I never want to go back.”
Austin laughs at that, “Yeah. Lucerne has that effect on people.” He clicks a button on one of the gadgets around his waist. “Let’s keep moving, yeah?”
They stop me a couple of times to film from another angle and then ask me to go back down a couple of steps to film certain moments again.
Austin asked me to fake my expression multiple times and it’s… clinical.
How do actors do this every day?
It’s amazing .
Twenty minutes later, we reach the end of the pathway and there is nothing I can do to close my mouth.
Now look, it’s not that I’m close-minded or think that places like Switzerland don’t have modern architecture—well, that’s exactly what I thought…
but that’s beside the point. I didn’t expect to come face-to-face with a massive, large-windowed home that looks like it belongs to a celebrity in Beverly Hills (that’s a bit far-fetched, it’s not that huge), and not for a couple of people rooming together for eight weeks.
To my far left, well… There's green land. A little bit of a walk away, there’s a wooden bridge leading onto another mountain. I squint my eyes the tiniest bit. Is that a barn?
The budget for this show must be high.
Like literally, it has to be overdosing on crack because what the heck?
“This is the back of the house,” Austin whispers something to the cameraman. He pushes open a brown wooden door that leads to the front. “Irene chose for contestants to come from the back to make it more magical and I agree with her.”
“Start from here,” the cameraman directs me to start a couple of feet away from the door. The front of the house is even more stunning. Whoever built this house has one heck of a talented eye because they knew exactly what they were doing by placing it near the mountain’s edge.
Below it is the town of Lucerne.
For the next little while, I’ll be waking up to this every morning.
“I’m a bit nervous right now. This is my first time in Lucerne and honestly, I love it but I’m also feeling out of my element.
It’s not that I’m bad with strangers but there’s always the constant question of what if they don’t like me?
I’ve always had that problem, well, the self-doubt problem, at least. In this case?—”
“Nova,” Austin calls out.
I turn around.
The cameraman wipes a hand over his forehead, the camera lowered.
“Less talking, more moving. Please.”
My throat burns.
When I’m finally at the obscenely large door, I hear a subtle, “Why did Irene even pick her?” and my hand freezes.
Get out of my room, Nova.
I don’t know what you want me to say.
You have to learn to be your own person without me.
How do you expect me to take your side when you’re wrong?
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Turning the knob of the door, it opens and the first thing I notice is how it smells like strong incense.
They may have had a high budget, but no taste whatsoever .
White porcelain hallway covers the width of the empty frames on each side.
Taking my shoes off, “This is nice.” The mic picks up every word.
Rolling my bag down the long hall, two arched openings welcome me. The left side has a wooden dining table. The right being a cozy, yellow-painted library .
Sparks start from the tip of my toes and rush their way up towards the ends of my hair. This is my heaven. “Oh my gosh, this is so pretty!”
“I think someone’s here,” an elegant voice murmurs.
“Should we go greet them?” The other one has a slight accent.
“Hi!” I scream out to them before I have the chance to think about what the heck I’m doing.
Who does that ? Screaming to a bunch of strangers like I’m a freaking banshee.
“Sorry,” I’m quick to add. “That must have been weird.” I leave my bag near the reading room and walk straight until another wide-arched opening to my right introduces me to two faces and the back of one’s head.
“I thought I was being quirky by doing that, I’m kind of regretting it now.
” Cheeriness and smiles erupt out of me.
By the look on their faces, they don’t know how to react.
“I’m Nova,” I pop my shoulders up and wave.
It takes them a second. The woman—the one with the elegant voice—catches herself and returns the smile. It’s poised and holds a tad bit of judgement, but I am nothing without a little bit of that in my life. I’m used to it.
Her hair is the perfect length, right below her shoulders but not too short or long. Goodness, her back is as straight as a rod. And she’s stunning, absolutely, hands-down gorgeous. She has a beautiful set of round almond-shaped eyes with their lids covered in a practiced brown, smoky eyeshadow.
If only makeup were my strong suit.
“I’m Katarina,” she says with that soft voice of hers.
“And I’m Shaan,” he stands up and walks over to greet me. His hair falls over his forehead and his lashes brush against the very top of his brown cheeks as shows off his pearly white teeth. I take his extended hand and my eyes catch onto the last man in the room.
He stands with his shoulder pushed back. Turning around, he reels back with one look at my face.
My smile grows.
The low timbre of his voice as he says, “I’m Rhys” amuses me.
The last time I saw him, he didn’t have a beard.
Slightly trimmed hair covers his cheeks and a thicker goatee type of beard specks around his mouth.
His body is thicker, leaner—still sort of the same as I remember.
His ice blue eyes remain kind and suspiciously knowing.
Whatever nervous tick there was in my shoulder untangles itself and I let them rest. This isn’t too bad. Katarina and Shaan seem nice and well, Rhys is Rhys.
I know him enough to feel comfortable.
“Come sit with us,” Rhys points his hand in the direction of the couches with amusement shining in his eyes. “We were talking about each other’s favourite films before you came.”
“Oh!” With a step to my walk, I end up beside Katarina who not so subtly, shifts away. I try not to let it bother me. “What was everyone’s answer?”
Rhys leans back against the couch, one foot propped over his knee. “ The Bodyguard .”
“Ooh, romance enthusiast?” I ask with a tilt to my chin. It’s surprising, considering I thought he’d like something serious and mysterious like… John Wick or something.
“What can I say?” He shrugs one shoulder with a half-smile. “I’m a Whitney Houston fan.”
“Mine’s Dabangg .” Shaan leans forward to meet my eyes. “A Bollywood film with a cop. I rewatch it every month or so.”
“Cool,” I say. “I’m not a huge action girlie, but I’d be down to watch a man in a police suit.”
Rhys chuckles at that and I know exactly why.
“Mine is Black Swan,” Katarina says. She moves her hair over her shoulder and looks at me with a less- judgy gaze? The quick up and down she gives me stabilizes whatever unsettling feelings she might be feeling and confirms that I’m not a threat to her.
Lucky for her, I’m not a competitive person.
I wait for someone to ask me what my favourite movie is, but no one does.
“Mine’s Dirty Dancing ,” I say while awkwardly bobbing my head. “Johnny Castle was my sexual awakening, if you know what I mean.”
Katarina merely hums under her breath.
“Great movie,” Rhys replies. “I still listen to that one song while working out.” He glances up towards the ceiling, eyes pinched, brows perched together. “What was it called?”
“I’ve had the time of my life,” I answer confidently. “My sister and I used to dance around the house listening to it.”
“I do not think I’ve seen the film,” Shaan runs a hand through his black hair. “Is it any good?”
“Only the best,” I beam. “We’ll have to do a movie marathon with our favourite movies, I promise Dirty Dancing will soon take your number one favourite film spot.”
“It’s mediocre at best,” Katarina looks bored.
My smile loses its strength, but I refuse to let it drop.
Just then, the front door slams shut and in comes a string of curses.
I roll my lips inwards, stopping the laugh from bursting out.
Stumbling into the room, sunglasses on her forehead, tight jeans pasted on her legs and a sly smile on her lips. “Well, hello. I’m Hina Mayumi,” she takes her sunglasses off her head and tips it like it’s a cowboy hat.
Everyone introduces themselves again and I can see her holding back her smile when it’s my turn. She ends up sitting next to me and I like that because I feel like she feels most comfortable around me right now.
Awkward, miniscule conversation continues in broken sound waves. I try my best to keep the energy up, to start new topics, and somehow I even ended up giving everyone a random experience that never happened to me but now they all think it did.
Fun fact, I’m terrified of large bodies of water. There is no way I dived into the ocean during one of the fishing sessions back in Cornwall just because a kid’s doll fell into the water.
Nope, nuh-uh, I’m not that kind of girl. My life is an adventure enough.
With crossed legs, Hina rests an arm over her knee and cups her face in her hands. She turns to look at me, “What’s your MBTI?” Asking people their Myers-Briggs personality type is a trend. Fun fact, in South Korea, MBTI’s are a famous way of figuring out how a person truly is.
“INFP,” introverted, intuitive, feeling, and perspective. Despite being introverted, not being around my sisters has taught me to put it aside and focus on what I’m not. “I bet you’re ENFJ.”
Hina gasps, hand to her heart and everything. “How did you know?”
I cluck my tongue. “I’m just that good.”
Katarina scoffs, “Guess mine too.”
Turning to face her, I watch carefully. She’s been quiet and replies with snarky comments, but she’s poised and determined.
I can tell that she’s a strong leader, someone who knows how to work the room without needing to say a word.
By the way Rhys and Shaan have been staring at her in increments throughout the evening, she knows the power she holds.
It’s simmering beneath the surface, and I like that.
I decide I like her too, even if she doesn’t seem to like me.
“INTJ,” I conclude. “There’s no way I’m wrong about that. ”
She stares at me for a minute, “You’re right.”
Shaan and Rhys look at me expectedly and I sigh, well this is great. Eventually I guess both of theirs. Rhys and Shaan are both ENTJ’s.
Rhys laughs easily. “You’re a magician, ever thought about making this a career?”
Accomplishment blooms in my chest, along with pride. I’m not good at many things but I feel great at this.
The laughter awkwardly dies down when a dark shadow looms over me.
“It’s my turn.”
It’s reflexive .
My senses know that sound like it's second nature.
The husky timbre of his voice with the seductive tilt to it at the end of each sentence.
The way he grumbles each word out with a scowl.
For the first time today, my smile fully drops. And my eyes are popping out of their sockets, I’m sure.
I’m sure everyone exchanged hellos, their names, and when they all turn to me, I can’t speak.
He’s here.
In Switzerland.
With me.
I’m internally panicking before realizing people are waiting for me to introduce myself. Being the fake-outspoken person I am, “I’m Nova Rivera,” I introduce myself like I’ve never met the man in my life.
He bores a look of dark amusement, never once looking away from me. “Dean Vuk.”
What the hell is he doing here?