Chapter 22
Oliver
One and Half Weeks until Finale
Over the next two days, he continued to avoid Declan, though he had the feeling his constant staring at the other man hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Sometimes, when he looked away, he thought he could feel Declan’s eyes on him too.
There was no other explanation: the show was driving him mad.
Two new contestants entered the villa, neither of them making any impression on Oliver.
Shortly after their arrival, Eavie interrupted him as he lay flat on the pool deck, contemplating his life choices.
‘Hey,’ she said, as he reluctantly sat up.
‘You seem… distracted.’
‘Do I?’ he asked, watching Paige approach from across the patio.
Eavie pointedly followed his stare.
‘Yes,’ she said bluntly.
He shrugged. ‘Sure, okay.’ A cameraman was trained on them now, and he could hear the buzz of Paige muttering into her headset.
He was sure that she was planning on using this footage as some sort of leverage in the final reveal.
A moment of painful silence passed before Eavie spoke again.
‘Elliot asked me on a date.’
‘Who?’
Eavie looked as close to rolling her eyes as Oliver had ever seen her.
‘Elliot? He came in earlier today? You two had a whole conversation about whether you can find decent fish and chips in London?’
‘Oh,’ Oliver said vacantly.
From his fuzzy memory of the afternoon, Elliot had seemed nice enough.
‘Great.’
‘Great?’ she repeated, frowning.
‘That’s all you have to say?’
Oliver blinked at her and she came slightly more into focus.
‘Er… what?’
‘You’ve been ignoring me for days , Oliver.
I liked you, I thought we had genuine potential, and you’ve disappeared on me.
Do you understand how frustrating that is?’
Her cheeks were red, but Oliver couldn’t tell if it was from anger or the heat.
‘No…?’ he tried.
‘I know you haven’t been toying with me for fun.
I mean, you seem miserable and I think I understand why.
But it hurts that you’ve been stringing me along with no intention to ever commit.’
Oliver’s thoughts drifted to Declan, to the fact that he couldn’t commit, to the possibility that he would have to.
He felt sick and didn’t even attempt to respond.
She continued, more sharply, ‘Fine, don’t say anything.
If we’re laying it all out, it’s pretty obvious what’s going on.’
‘Uh – is it?’ he asked.
‘You’re in love with someone else,’ she said, without any accusation in her tone.
‘I’m not,’ he said feebly.
Eavie stared at him.
‘Don’t lie to me,’ she snapped.
‘I deserve the truth from you, don’t you think?’
‘Okay, sure,’ he said, deciding it hardly mattered what she thought at this point.
‘I’m in love with someone else.
It’s awful, not being able to act on your feelings.
And I’m completely falling apart, so that’s great.’
She shook her head.
‘If I wasn’t so angry with you, I would feel sorry for you.
I know Jack is one of your mates.’
Oliver blinked. ‘What?’
‘It must be difficult, knowing if you told Maeve how you felt, you would lose Jack in the process.’
‘Right…’ He didn’t fully register what she had said, distracted by Brian gesturing wildly in the kitchen and trying to not search in the corner of his vision for the person he always found himself searching for.
‘I suppose.’
‘Well, no use dwelling on it,’ she said abruptly, and he looked at her again, feeling desperately sad about the situation that they both were in.
It occurred to Oliver vaguely that he might have been on the verge of a panic attack for two days now.
‘Eavie,’ he said, emotion strangling his voice, ‘I am sorry.’
She gave him a small nod.
‘Me too.’
He stood and walked towards the villa just to get away from her, his movements mechanical and out of his control.
He had gone for the bedroom, assuming it would be empty, but one couple lingered.
When he saw Declan and Imogen, Oliver nearly turned on his heel to face whatever awaited him on the patio, but his knees buckled beneath him.
He flung himself onto the nearest bed so he wouldn’t collapse in the middle of the room, on camera, and make himself look pathetic.
‘All right there?’ Imogen asked, turning.
Her dark curls were haloed by the ceiling lights in his peripheral vision.
He couldn’t bring himself to look beside her.
‘Oh, I’m grand,’ Oliver said, incredibly tired of everyone asking him the same question.
‘Don’t I look fantastic?’
‘Sorry you’re feeling shit.’
They were the first words Declan had spoken to him in days.
‘Not your fault,’ Oliver said, meeting his eye and feeling the customary pang in his chest. His anger at Declan had entirely dissipated; he could see now how they’d been doomed from the start.
He could only hope that Declan would believe him, would somehow understand that Oliver’s current spiral wasn’t the result of their fight.
‘Try to think about how it will feel when this is all over,’ Imogen said, and Oliver was jarred by her voice, which had dropped low.
‘God knows I am.’ She turned to Declan.
‘Shall I give you a moment?’
‘Yeah,’ Declan said, kneeling beside Oliver as Imogen left the room.
They just looked at each other for a moment.
‘Not thinking of running away, are you?’ Declan said with a small smile, his lips lifting crookedly in a way Oliver had committed to memory.
It made him feel better, if only just a bit.
‘No,’ Oliver said, with a wan smile, ‘you’re stuck with me.’
It looked like Declan wanted to say more, his lips parting slightly before he pressed them together in a thin line.
He stood abruptly, his arm brushing Oliver’s side, and Oliver could feel him stiffen at the unintentional contact.
As he walked away, Oliver felt certain that if he could have one conversation with Declan, off camera, he would know what to do.
Part of him thought Paige was right: if he gave Declan the opportunity to offer his own response to Oliver’s feelings, that might be less awful than him being blindsided by them airing the kiss without context.
If Declan had to come out, at least it would be in his own words, if not on his own terms.
Oliver tried not to notice Declan watching him as the lights came on the next morning, or as he made his way out to the kitchen, or as he drank his tea silently at the counter.
It wouldn’t do him any good at this point.
It was his final day to act, and he’d never felt more unsure of the right thing to do.
For better or worse, Paige seemed to have given up on him, and called the remaining five men together shortly after breakfast. ‘How’s everyone holding up?’
she asked, her eyes sweeping across their faces and resting on Oliver.
‘Why?’ Jack asked, suspicious.
‘Just checking in!’ she said.
‘Since we’re only a week out from the finale, I had an idea.’
Oliver snorted, and her eyes cut towards him.
‘Something wrong?’
‘No,’ Oliver said, not bothering to hide his contempt, ‘you know how much I love your ideas, Paige. Let’s hear it.’
Both Declan and Jack looked taken aback by the exchange, but Paige just ignored him.
‘On the last day, you’re expected to exchange vows of commitment, and I thought it might be nice to have the five of you work on them together.
Like, you’re all bad at expressing your feelings, so you’re helping each other out…
you get it?’
If Oliver hadn’t been sure that she was fucking with him from the start, he was now.
‘Oh, I get it,’ he said, ‘but I’m not sure the rest of them have caught on.’
‘I get it,’ James replied, indignant.
‘I’m good with words, though.
I mean, my songs are a form of poetry.’
It was Declan’s turn to snort.
‘Yes, modern Lennon over here.’
Elliot looked overwhelmed.
‘I’m, um, happy to try my best,’ he said, ‘but I’ve only been here two days?
I mean’ – he looked at Oliver – ‘Eavie and I aren’t even a couple?’
Oliver shrugged.
‘No need to tiptoe around it on my account – I’m happy for you two.’
‘Wait, what?’ Jack asked, frowning at him.
‘Since when are you and Eavie broken up?’
‘Since yesterday.’ Oliver turned to Paige.
‘So, who am I meant to write my speech to?’
‘I’m sure you’ll think of someone,’ Paige said drily.
She directed them over to the swing, where she had set out notepads and pens.
Two cameras were already trained on the area.
The rest of the men got to work, scribbling away, while Oliver stared despondently at the blank sheet of paper.
He couldn’t figure out the least disastrous way to handle things, the decision that would make him feel least like he was orchestrating his own demise for public spectacle.
‘Okay,’ Paige said, walking back over.
She glanced at Oliver’s blank notepad and frowned.
‘Let’s hear it – James, you go.’
Though James stood and started reading, Oliver couldn’t focus on the words.
When he thought of coming out, he thought of telling his friends and family, and the idea of that didn’t bother him.
But coming out on national television would put him under a scrutiny he wasn’t prepared for, his sexuality too new for even him to feel expert in.
He couldn’t stop himself from looking at Declan.
When the kiss aired on Sunday, Declan’s whole life, the one he had worked so hard for, would fall apart.
And it would be Oliver’s fault – he kept thinking that if he’d acted sooner, if he’d played the game better, he would have been able to find a way out of this mess for the both of them.
Instead, he was frozen, powerless, watching Paige’s plan unfurl before him, and the most he’d been able to do was to sling a few barbs her way.
It wasn’t nearly enough.
‘Declan, your turn,’ Paige said.
Declan nodded, standing, and Oliver wished he could be anywhere else.
Despite the torture Paige had put him through this week, he knew listening to Declan pretend to be in love with Imogen would be the thing to finally break him.
‘I can admit this now, since we’ve come to the end,’ Declan read, the words coming out stilted and awkward.
‘I didn’t come here to find someone.
I didn’t think I could.
I thought I’d have a holiday, I’d get my face on TV, and then I’d go back home and that’d be it.’
He swallowed. ‘Now, I’m not sure I can go back…
Knowing you has changed me, and I don’t think I’d fit there like I used to.
You’ve shown me how to be myself, and I didn’t realise how exhausted I was with pretending to be someone else,’ he said, his voice growing rougher.
‘I met you and it was like I could breathe.’ He paused, the piece of paper fluttering in his shaking hand.
‘Sorry, I’m not sure how to end this.
I’m not good at saying things I actually mean.
I guess I’m just glad I met you.’
Declan glanced up, catching Oliver’s eye, and, for a brief moment, it felt like they were alone.
For once, Declan’s face was open, and he was showing Oliver everything.
‘Um, wow,’ Jack said, breaking the silence.
‘That was… deep?’
Declan held Oliver’s gaze for a moment longer before sitting down.
‘Oliver?’ Paige said, looking at him intently.
Oliver stood and turned to face everyone, blank paper in hand.
He glanced at Declan, clearing his throat, with no idea what came next.
He had spent his life in a constant series of next steps, but now he wished he could stop everything from moving forwards.
He had only ever really made one decision: pursuing ballet.
His family had thought he was a ridiculous dreamer, the boys at school had thought he was strange, and still Oliver had found a way to make it happen.
He hadn’t wanted anything like he’d wanted that in a long time.
He hadn’t allowed himself to.
He’d made a plan and never strayed from it, paralysed by the fear of losing everything.
He’d come on the show because his friends had responded to Paige’s DM and he’d gone along with it.
He’d been pliant to all of Paige’s manipulations, not making a single decision for himself.
But as Declan looked at him, he knew he had to fix this.
He at least had to try.
If not for himself, he could do it for Declan.
‘Actually, I won’t do this.’
He turned, walking towards the villa.
Paige was immediately on his heels.
‘What’s going on? That was the perfect set-up.’
He turned to look at her, feeling oddly elated, despite the fact that he had no idea what he was going to do.
‘I’ve got a plan.’
Paige studied him, eyes bright.
‘Well, let’s hear it, then.’
‘I want to talk in the Love Shack,’ he suggested.
She nodded. ‘Fine by me.’
They walked through the hall and to the interview room, and Oliver sat on the stool that he’d spent so much time on over the last eight weeks.
‘Camera on or off?’ Paige asked, still staring at him.
He knew that he looked peculiar, grinning like an idiot after days of abject misery.
‘On’s fine.’
‘Right.’ The red light blinked on.
‘I assume you know where you’re going with this?’
‘Yes,’ he said. Now, unfortunately, the hard part came.
Paige would certainly not make this easy.
‘I’m done playing your game.
I’m not taking any more orders from you.’
Her face fell immediately, the effect almost comical.
‘Be serious, Oliver.’
He continued with a straight face: ‘I am serious. I’m not going to let you blackmail me, and I’m not going to waste any more of my time trying for the approval of people who don’t give a shit about me.
And you’ve got that on tape, if you’d ever like a reminder of how low you’ve gone in life.
Watch at your leisure.’
To his surprise, shame flitted across Paige’s features.
‘This is my job. I know it’s not pretty, and believe me, it’s not easy for me to see you like this.
But I want you and Declan to be together properly.
It’s not as though I’ve got an evil agenda here.
We want the same thing .’
She looked at him, pleading.
He shook his head. That refrain had never been less true than it was now.
‘I want to protect Declan. You just want to use him. How is it you don’t see the difference?’
‘You don’t know how I feel about you, about all of this,’ she argued.
‘I know it’s your career on the line.
I understand giving everything else up to go after something – that’s what I’ve done for ballet.
But there are more important things.
It’s Declan’s entire life that you’re threatening.
It’s my life, my livelihood, my sanity.
You’re manipulating me, all in the name of…
what?’
‘Making a point,’ she snapped.
‘A very important point. That, I thought you would understand.’
‘You’re not making a point,’ Oliver countered.
‘You’re profiting off people’s emotions, their vulnerabilities.
If the audience knew what went on behind the scenes of the show, they would go ballistic.
How do you think they would respond if they knew you offered me a good edit, fame and money to out another contestant on national television?
That’s not as progressive as you’re telling yourself it is.’
As soon as Oliver said it, everything fell into place.
He knew exactly how to get out of this, how to get almost everything he wanted.
He’d lost Declan, but he had figured out how to win.
Paige’s face had turned a blotchy red, and she stared at him defiantly.
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.
Darcy’s heard the audio.
I can’t stop it from airing, even if I wanted to.’
Oliver bit back a laugh.
‘You haven’t shown it to Darcy.
There’s no story here unless I go along with it.
If you air the audio and I leave, you expose yourself for exactly what you are: an industry capitalising on traumatising people for entertainment.
Outing contestants for shock value and jeopardising their wellbeing in the process.
I think you’re smart enough to know that’s not a good look, and that’s why you’ve kept this plan between the two of us.
Isn’t that right?’
Her face was all the confirmation he needed.
‘Oliver – come on, we can still figure this out so we both win.’
‘You never fucking listen to me. I’m leaving.
I quit. You can’t make me stay.’
The words bubbled out of him.
‘You can’t make me do anything any more.’
Her face was stony.
‘Is that all?’
‘That’s all.
Good interview, Paige.’
The red light blinked off.
He stood and walked out the door.