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vivianna
The next challenges breeze by quickly, some more group-focused than couple-focused; a “quote” challenge in which the producers read out a quote one of us has said and each person has to guess who it is (Esme’s one-liners being some of the most memorable), a couple’s pictionary challenge that Ramona and Marco dominated, and a partner trivia that became the first challenge in which Griff and I won first place, rattling off information we’d picked up from each other late at night.
On top of everything, the episodes have been churning out like clockwork, and our stats are looking good. Everleigh and Wyatt rank first among viewers, followed by Ramona and Marco, followed by Griffin and I, who are tied with Imogen and Zander, Brody and Esme lagging behind overall.
There haven’t been any elimination challenges since the baking one where Fernanda and Aiden got booted, but as the Amadors have warned us—they’re on their way, and it’s not looking good for Brody and Esme, who are still trailing after everyone in votes.
These past several days have melted into each other. Griff and I still sleep with our pillow divider, but there doesn’t seem to be much use for it when we absolutely disrespect it anyway, Griffin reaching over said pillow and asking why I’m so far away with that easy grin and those low eyes.
We’ve kissed since that very first time, but not in the way we did then. Instead, it’s little shy kisses at breakfast or on the beach or after challenges. Fleeting kisses that stop before either one of us goes too far, like we’re still holding back.
And we don’t kiss in our bedroom like that first kiss, because bedrooms can spell out disaster. So, here we are, still teasing and bickering and whipping up late-night dinners for ourselves ranging from frozen pizza to cup noodles.
I’m still not ready to ask what we are. The lines between real and fake have seriously faded, and I don’t know what to make of it, when Griffin pulls me close in front of cameras or plants a kiss on my lips in front of our peers.
I have to remind myself that the night we made out, there were no cameras. Griffin had nothing to prove, no one to impress. For the very first time since we got on this show, we weren’t trying to sell something.
The viewers would’ve gone crazy if we’d chosen to pull shit like that in the hot tub where whatever camera operator was present would get a good few shots of the two of us. Presenting, acting, selling. But because we had kissed in the quiet of our room, doors locked, no cameras in the parameter, there was something far more precious in that moment. Like maybe, for once, something on this show wasn’t bullshit.
Our relationship has shifted, and people can tell. If we’re being honest, that chemistry has always been there—in our exchanged smirks, in our sharp-witted banter, in our judgemental eye contact— but the longer looks, the frequent touching, the new layer of tension... that’s different. Everyone can feel it too, not just our viewers who have flanked behind our relationship in increasing numbers— but our fellow competitors. We’re starting to become relevant, flying higher up in the rankings and leaving some of the original fan favorites behind us. We have a shot at winning this thing.
The next elimination challenge is the “Escape Room”, and the Amadors explain the task to us in the lobby of the escape room center. It’s as obvious as it sounds; each couple will have to break out of their respective escape rooms. The slowest couple is eliminated. And the fastest couple gets an exemption from elimination next round. That makes the stakes significantly higher. Flirting for the viewers can only buy you so much time in Lovebound, because collaborating efficiently has become increasingly important.
If I had to place bets on who would be out this round, it’d be Brody and Esme. Both have been relatively good at avoiding public arguments, but they haven’t exactly been performing at their A game in recent challenges. Which sucks, because besides Ramona, Esme’s really the only competitor I trust to a certain extent. She confided in me about Brody, gave me advice for staying in this competition with Griffin, when she could’ve easily used our initially sanitized relationship against us. Lovebound competitors have been known to air opponents’ dirty laundry to the tabloid, even in the midst of the competition.
If she’s out, all I have is Ramona—who honestly seems on track to win this entire thing with Marco, Everleigh and Wyatt who are nice but that’s about all, and lastly, Imogen and Zander, who I wouldn’t trust as far as I could throw.
Griffin’s hand on my arm brings me back to the present. The escape room hosts are handing out our laminated room numbers, and no sooner are those sheets in our hands are we being led to our respective rooms.
In Room #3, an escape room host revisits the rules for the two of us before locking us in. It’s a simple room, with bookshelves packed with dusty books, drawers, a silver safe and dim lighting. We scan the room, thinking out loud and exchanging glances. I’ve done an escape room once with Reese, and we had alright timing, but it was nothing special. Griffin’s apparently done so a few times with his coworkers, but it’s been a while.
Still, we resort to focusing on every little detail. A peeling poster, an unlit area, a locked container. We take a while to get our first hint, but eventually we do, in a crooked book that I spot about fifteen minutes in. We crowd around said book, opening it up as a crumpled but promising piece of paper comes tumbling out.
I exchange a wide grin with Griff. “First clue.” He whoops, and we slap our hands together, finally making leeway.
***
***
griffin
Vivi and I run out of the room once we’ve found the final key, met with cheers from the Amadors, and for one thrilling second, I think that maybe we’re first. But it turns out, we’ve been outdone again. Because another couple is present in the foyer; Imogen and Zander.
No exemption for us, which means that we’re on the chopping block for the next challenge, just like everyone else.
Apparently, Imogen and Zander beat us by five minutes. It’s not all that close, but still disappointing. Imogen’s smug “aw, so close” doesn’t exactly make the situation better. Zander’s holding the bright red EXEMPTION tag, but I’m more focused on this hairpin Imogen keeps on playing around with, pushing it back into her hair with a wry smile when she catches my stare.
The footage might show thirty minutes of her and Zander pacing the room before one of them got the brilliant idea to pick the lock. There aren’t actually any explicit rules against it, and as sleazy as it may seem, it’s clearly effective. Maybe Imogen didn’t even use the hairpin to pick the final lock. Maybe she just wants us to think her and Zander found a hack, so that we accuse them publicly and look bitter in front of the viewers.
Imogen Morgan is calculating, if nothing else.
Vivi and I make brief eye contact, and she snorts. She definitely spotted the hairpin too. We don’t get to talk it out, though, because we have to wait in the foyer with the two until everyone else arrives.
Everleigh and Wyatt come running in third with loud laughs and high fives. We’re now stuck waiting for the two last couples. Brody and Esme might be biting each other’s heads off at this point.
Still, when the next door opens, sealing everyone’s fate, I expect it to be Ramona and Marco running through the doors. Ramona and Marco, arguably the strongest and most consistent couple to date. No-Scandals Ramona and Marco, Easy-Does-It Ramona and Marco.
I don’t exactly expect Cheating-Controversy Brody and Esme to come sprinting out. Not exactly hand in hand, but side by side. They don’t high five or nothing, and Esme does a long scope of the room. “I knew we were late.”
“Luckily, not too late,” Wyatt says. “Ramona and Marco aren’t here.”
And with that sentence, it finally registers that if Brody and Esme are here, then Ramona and Marco are out.
The escape room hosts disappear down the hall to fish the two out, and return with a dispirited Ramona and frustrated Marco.
“Unfortunately, Ramona and Marco did not make it out of the escape room in time” Mila says with a sympathetic frown. “So, you two are out. But we’ll miss you.”
Apparently, the two couldn’t find the last key. You had to decode one of the posters in the room, but they kept on coming up with the wrong message and figured they weren’t looking in the right place. Needless to say, the goose hunt for the final key clue ended up eating up all their time.
Ramona and Marco hug, and he rubs her back, saying something in her ear. Then they walk about the room, hugging or nodding at everyone else in the room, Ramona and Vivi swaying back and forth for a few long seconds before the two pull apart. Ramona and Vivi have been tight since day one.
Then they’re gone. Just like that. Viewers are going to be pissed. Marco and Ramona have been a fan favorite for a hot minute. I wonder if they’ll last, now that they have no monetary motivation to continue dating. I feel like they will. That hug looked cathartic, their chemistry undeniable.
I swing an arm over Vivianna’s shoulder, pulling her in. She sighs, and I give her a gentle squeeze.
***
The exhaustion and the plot twists are getting excessive for Vivi, and I can’t pretend I’m not feeling the heat either. I don’t think either of us actually anticipated the toll this whole Lovebound experience would take on us. Constantly having to present an image, seeing people leave for the most ridiculous challenges, the sheer competition, the online comments and having our exes on the show.
I don’t think it all really hit until Ramona and Marco were out, and we got back to the Villa. It was a sucker punch. These types of Lovebound eliminations have always been the most controversial, because being last in an escape room or botching up a cake doesn’t mean that you’re a shitty couple. A real couple could probably screw up a challenge and still have the perfect chemistry or potential. It’s always been one of Lovebound’s biggest criticisms, apparently, because it’s just as much of a game show as it is a dating show.
But you can’t deny that chemistry helps with a lot of these challenges, like budgeting and buying groceries together before baking or leading your person through an obstacle course with just your voice.
Still, it’s a lot. And the process is mad accelerated too, with only a few days between filming and each episode being released. We’re not even meant to communicate much with the outside world in regards to the show. Vivi’s texted her best friend quite a bit while here, but no spoilers, more so safe commentary about the food or the weather. My brothers have called me about it—apparently Mom’s watching the show— and I’ve basically been as cryptic as possible, save for telling them Vivi’s great, and they’ll like her a lot, even though Vivi and I haven’t talked about what happens after Lovebound once.
Vivi says she can already feel the homesickness crawling in, with her best friend texting her about her shih-tzu—Candy’s—latest shenanigans and the new recipes she’s trying out with Vivi’s ingredients at home.
“I never thought I’d end up missing the unmistakable scent of pollution and gravel and food trucks.” Vivi sighed earlier today, and I laughed in the moment, but I’m not going to sit here and pretend I didn’t feel that.
So, after the escape room, Vivi essentially spends the afternoon curled up on the bed, browsing through Netflix for something to watch with a bathrobe and a slight scowl. I head out to play soccer with Wyatt and come back to see her in exactly the same position. Don’t even think she moved an inch. She clearly plans on spending the rest of the night like that, so I decide to instigate, marching over to the bed and looming over her.
She lowers her screen after a few seconds of this hovering.
“Yes?”
“Wanna go to the bar?” I lean down a little, hand pressed against the headboard of the bed as I meet her eyes, teasing.
Pressing her lips together, she glances right up at me, then away. I hold back a smirk. She wants to say no, but she can’t look at me while saying it.
“C’mon,” I coax. Then, “you need to get out of the house.” I hope my dimple wins her over, and I gracefully push down my laptop screen.
She makes a big show of rolling her eyes. “Fine, dude.” She’s off the bed a few seconds later, making her way to the bathroom as I trail after her, asking: “So, I’m your dude now?” But I’ve won. She ignores me, hiding her grin, shutting the door to the bathroom behind her before the fact shows a little too much.
***
Brody’s a wizard at ping pong, which doesn’t actually surprise anyone.
It’s only four couples now, and we’ve got to do all these performative hangouts to make sure the audience knows that there’s no bad blood between us. But it’s not the worst thing in the world. We’re civil, for the most part. And Esme was all smiles when Vivi arrived with me before throwing her arms around her. Don’t know when the two got so close, but it’s kind of heartwarming, since I’m pretty sure they hated each other’s guts before they actually got to know each other.
We play a few games as duos. Esme and Vivi against Imogen and Everleigh. Then against Brody and Wyatt. Brody and Wyatt against Zander and I. We’re not cavalier, but the alcohol has eased up our defenses. The bad blood becomes increasingly irrelevant as our group becomes smaller and smaller.
We eventually go as couples; Vivi and I against Brody and Esme. I whoop loud. My hand always finds Vivi’s waist, and she shivers, my palm sitting right on my hip, pressing into the fabric of her dress as I tip back my head and down a drink with his other hand. I’m mesmerized by the way she glows underneath the dim lights, the way she leans into me, that sparkle in her eyes.
Vivi and I opt out, because we’re losing badly, and the tipsier we get, the worse our aim becomes. Brody laughs our asses right off the table. We decide to head home for the night, and Vivi gives Esme a little hug before we Uber back to the Villa together.
When we get back, we settle in front of the Villa, sitting on the sand. It’s strangely comfortable, or maybe it’s because I’m not 100% sober. But I am sober enough to take in how pretty Vivi looks in the dark, her curls braided back into a sort of ponytail, teeth white against her dark skin, knees brought up to her chest.
“You look unreal,” I say like I haven’t been taking her in all evening.
She flicks her curls over my shoulder with a snort, but then a beam. “You look very handsome.”
I’ve got on a fitted black dress shirt, top buttons undone as they typically are, legs stretched out in my black jeans. I lean into her, teeth brushing over her neck with a soft kiss before I pull back and smile, eyes lazy, hand outstretched. “Thank you.”
She takes my hand as we lay back down on a blazer I brought but abandoned early in the night, eyes on the sky.
I raise my hand up to the sky, before looking at her all romantic. “That’s Ursa Major.”
“Really?” She asks, following my finger point to the lazy arrangement of stars above us.
“No,” I snort. “I don’t know shit about astronomy.”
“Dumbass,” She says, but then we’re both laughing, and the night suddenly seems infinite, and we seem infinite, she squeezes my hand, as though to tell me all of this, and I squeeze back.