I heard the buzzer before i felt ready.
That low, vibrating sound that always made the pit of my stomach clench.
Tonight was Eviction Night.
Again.
Except this time two housemates would be leaving.
Two.
I sat on the couch with my knees drawn up, hugging a throw pillow to my chest. Around me the others were quieter than usual. Even the ones who liked to joke, like Kath and Paolo, were subdued.
I caught Joshua's eye. He was trying to smile, but it didn't quite reach.
I tried to smile back.
Failed.
God, this room felt like a tomb.
and the two housemates who got evicted is Enzo and Gelo.
-
Nomination Night...
When the voice of Kuya boomed over the speakers, the hair on my arms stood up.
"Housemates, it's time."
You'd think i'd be used to this by now.
I'd been here for weeks.
Living on top of each other.
Eating scraps when the budget ran out. Sleeping in bunk beds with strangers who became... something like family.
But every time he spoke like that, my heart felt like it got dropped in ice water.
We moved toward the voting room one by one.
The cameras followed us everywhere, of course.
My mic pack was heavy on my back.
My mouth felt dry.
I watched Mia go first. She squeezed my hand on the way.
"You okay?" she mouthed.
I nodded.
Lie.
When it was my turn i pushed myself up, legs heavy, and walked stiffly to the confession room.
It smelled like artificial air freshener.
Bright.
Too bright.
I sat in the chair.
Fingers tapped against my knee.
"Margaux, you must give 2 points to the housemate you feel should leave, and 1 point to another."
My breath rattled.
I closed my eyes.
Thought of all the faces.
The shared meals. The late-night talks.
But i did it.
Quietly.
Deliberately.
Not because i wanted to hurt anyone.
But because that was the game.
I left the room with my stomach turning.
Mia caught my eye again.
She was crying.
I wanted to go to her.
But Paolo pulled her into a hug first.
So i sat on the edge of the couch.
Clenched and unclenched my hands.
Pretended i wasn't listening to the whispers.
When all the votes were in, we gathered in the living room.
We held our breath.
Waiting.
Kuya's voice was calm, even clinical.
He called the names of the nominees one by one.
Joshua.
Kath.
Paolo.
And then—
My name.
"Margaux."
It was like getting slapped.
Even though i knew.
God, I knew.
But hearing it aloud was worse.
My ears rang.
The cameras zoomed in.
Of course they did.
I saw the others shift uncomfortably.
Mia wiped her eyes and looked at me like she wanted to say something.
I shook my head.
Don't.
Please don't make it worse.
Inside, I was screaming.
Of course they'd vote for me.
Why wouldn't they?
Out there, I'm the villain.
The homewrecker.
The spoiled rich kid who never learned humility.
They're not stupid.
They know public votes will decide who goes.
And i'm a safe bet to toss to the wolves.
Kuya's voice continued.
"This week, the outside world will vote. The two housemates with the lowest number of votes will leave the house."
Silence.
Thick.
Suffocating.
I blinked rapidly.
I would not cry.
Not here.
Not for them to see.
Joshua shifted beside me.
He put a hand on my shoulder.
"Sis..."
His voice was so gentle it hurt.
I swallowed.
"I'm okay," I said.
I wasn't.
We got dismissed after that.
The tension didn't leave.
We all stood up stiffly.
Some people tried to talk.
But it was stilted.
I saw Kath hug Paolo, burying her face in his chest.
He was trying to joke.
His voice cracked.
I wandered to the girls' room.
Pushed open the door.
Sat on the edge of my bed.
My sheets were still rumpled from last night.
It looked like any bunk.
But it had become... mine.
I trailed my fingers over the pillow.
The walls felt like they were closing in.
I laid back and stared at the ceiling.
Tried to make my mind blank.
But the thoughts wouldn't stop.
What would they show on TV?
Which parts of me would they cut and splice and serve up to the baying crowd?
Would they show me quiet?
Would they show me awkwardly trying to help in the kitchen?
Burning rice.
Laughing it off.
Or would they show my silence.
My hesitation.
My frowns.
The easy narrative.
Rich brat.
Entitled.
Fake.
I turned over, pressing my face into the pillow.
I couldn't stop it.
A sob slipped out.
I bit down hard.
Tried to choke it back.
Failed.
I remembered the tabloid headlines.
"Homewrecker Heiress."
Those goddamn photos of me being escorted by security after the mall show egg attack.
The pity in people's eyes.
The disgust.
The memes.
The comment sections.
"Kill yourself."
"Stay in prison."
"Disgusting."
I curled tighter.
God.
How did i get here.
I used to be the favorite.
I used to get standing ovations at those award shows.
I used to be asked for selfies by fellow actors.
I used to have brand deals stacked on my desk.
They loved me.
Until they didn't.
My chest ached.
Because as much as i wanted to be tough,
as much as i wanted to act like none of it mattered—
it did.
I didn't want to leave yet.
I didn't want to fail at this, too.
But how the hell would i win a public vote?
I let out a shaky breath.
Heard the door creak.
Mia.
She didn't say anything.
Just crawled onto her own bunk.
Our eyes met.
She looked like she'd been crying, too.
I tried to smile.
My lips didn't move right.
"G'night, Margaux," she whispered.
My voice cracked.
"Goodnight."
I turned my face back to the pillow and let the tears come.
-
The next morning was worse.
Because you have to get up.
You have to get out of bed and act like you're okay.
Even when you're sure everyone's wondering how doomed you are.
I forced myself up.
Splashed water on my face.
Brushed my hair back into a low bun.
Even put a little lip balm on.
Fake it.
Always fake it.
Breakfast was quiet.
Too quiet.
People tried to talk, but no one knew what to say.
Joshua sat next to me.
Passed me the fried egg he'd cooked because he knew i kept burning mine.
I blinked at it.
He nudged it closer.
"Eat," he muttered.
I took it.
Chewed.
Swallowed hard.
Mia asked if I slept.
I lied.
"Yeah."
Kath sat across from me.
She wouldn't meet my eyes.
Paolo tried to lighten the mood with a dumb joke about our rationed coffee.
No one really laughed.
-
After dishes, we sat in the living room, waiting for the next announcement.
The cameras caught everything.
The shifting eyes.
The tight smiles.
The way no one wanted to talk about the looming eviction.
Or about votes.
Or about the fact that the public might already be deciding our fates.
But they all knew.
And so did I.
Kuya's voice crackled over the speakers.
"Housemates."
We all straightened.
My heart thumped so loud i could hear it in my ears.
"This week, the voting lines will open. The public will choose who stays and who goes."
A hush.
A cough.
Someone swallowed audibly.
I clenched my hands in my lap.
God.
I didn't want to look at anyone.
Because i knew.
I knew my name would be at the bottom.
The favorite to kick.
The scandal queen.
The outsider.
The villain.
And all i could do was sit there.
And listen.
And try not to cry.
Because this was the price of staying.
Of trying to fix what was broken.
Of refusing to run.
If the country wanted to vote me out,
I'd take it.
But i wouldn't give them my tears for free.
Not this time.
I swallowed again.
Sat up a little straighter.
Pressed my shaking hands to my knees.
And waited.
Because that was all i could do.
Wait.
And hope.
Even if it felt hopeless.