The next morning, Harper awoke with a jolt, disoriented by the unfamiliar ceiling and the pressure of expectations settling back over her like a weighted blanket. Outside, the sky was still gray with pre-dawn light, but the mansion was already stirring. She dragged herself out of bed, heart pounding.
Today's schedule promised more rehearsals, on-camera scenarios, and a fancy brunch scene that would be filmed for promos. It all sounded unreal. Her dreams from the night before had been fragmented—Eli's voice echoing strange lines, Darius laughing in the background, Vanessa whispering threats in a language Harper's subconscious invented.
Her stomach twisted as she sat through hair and makeup again. Janette, her stylist, could sense it.
"Breathe," Janette said softly. "You look like you're walking into a courtroom, not a set."
"Feels about the same," Harper murmured.
Downstairs, cameras were already rolling. Yumi sat at the end of the long marble counter in the kitchen, holding a mug and watching the bustle quietly. Her presence remained a quiet constant, like a background melody.
"You okay?" Harper asked, pouring herself tea.
Yumi gave her a small nod. "I don't like crowds. But I do like stories. This feels like one of those messy ones. The kind with bruised hearts and beautiful lies."
Harper blinked. "That's oddly comforting."
The brunch shoot began in the garden. The table was overloaded with fruit platters, pastries, and mimosas that nobody dared drink. Vanessa was already posing with a croissant like she was in a Vogue editorial.
"Try not to look dead behind the eyes, darlings!" the director called. "We want bubbly chaos, not funeral gloom."
Harper forced a laugh. It felt like chewing glitter.
As they filmed scene after scene, Harper found herself beside Eli more often. The director seemed to be testing pair dynamics. Vanessa, with her calculated flirtation, was clearly gunning for top billing.
"Smile more," she whispered in Harper's ear during a reset. "Unless you want to fade into the scenery."
"Thanks for the tip," Harper replied, deadpan.
After brunch, the contestants were pulled into their solo interviews one by one.
Yumi went first. Harper could tell she was nervous—the way she clutched her hands, the way her eyes flicked to the camera and then away. Her answers were honest but hesitant. When she came back out, she gave Harper a tiny shake of her head.
Vanessa was next. She sauntered into the confessional like she owned it. Her voice carried through the walls, all bravado and fame-chasing charm. "I'm here to win. Obviously. Fame isn't something I chase—it chases me."
Harper waited last. Her turn came, and she sat under the lights, heart thudding.
"What made you fall for him?" the producer prompted.
Harper hesitated. "I don't know if I have... yet. But I want to understand why he makes me feel like I could."
The crew looked intrigued.
After all interviews were completed, the finalists were gathered under the lights. The director, alongside a quiet Eli, addressed them.
"First, thank you for your honesty. But today, we have to make a decision."
Yumi's name was called. She gave a soft, understanding nod and hugged Harper tightly.
"It was always going to be you or her," she whispered.
Then it was down to Harper and Vanessa.
"Why do you think you deserve to stay?" the producer asked.
Vanessa flashed her camera smile. "Because I'm a brand. I bring views. And let's be honest—he deserves someone who gets the business."
Harper's voice was quiet. "Because I'm not pretending. And I think people can tell."
Eli looked from one to the other.
"We appreciate your time, Vanessa," he said simply.
The silence that followed was louder than any applause. Vanessa's smile cracked just slightly before she turned to leave, chin high.
The cameras cut.
Only Harper and Eli remained.
He didn't speak. Just walked past her, brushing her arm slightly.
Whatever came next—it was going to get real fast.