Page 76 of Unscripted

Standing here now, waiting to learn if I’d be going back to the villa to stay or to pack my bags, I once again felt very silly for having thought I could ever get ahead of the show. Maybe I would finally get the hint that Bella Amore waits for no one to catch up. It was a well-oiled machine, with one great force that was outside of any effort we might make: its viewers. The voting public was fickle, and I knew from living in the internet world of reality television that public favor could turn on a dime. We might have been the UK’s favorite one day and their villain the next.

I’d have to add “keep the fans entertained” to the growing list of things for Callum and me to focus on.

It might not even matter; we could be sent home in the next few minutes, rendering any plan or lesson learned in the moment irrelevant.

I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with fresh air, my breathwork instinctively taking over at the mention of going home; and yet, the thought of having to leave didn’t send an immediate chill of panic down my spine like it had in the past. Sure, there was a mountain of real-world problems waiting for me on the other side of this moment, should we be eliminated. I would have preferred to continue ignoring them at all costs. But standing here with the sun beginning its afternoon descent and the salty sea air breezing through my hair, all the things I was avoiding at home seemed very far away.

Callum’s body, which had shifted closer to me and was pressed flush against my side, was probably responsible for any type of calm I was feeling. Apparently, anxiety could wait when I could feel his defined abs through his thin linen shirt.

Beside us, Gemma cleared her throat, pressing on with the dumping and bringing me back to the moment.

“The matches voted least compatible, and therefore eliminated from the villa this week are . . . ”

I took a breath, trying to focus on counting the seconds as they passed. Only a few more and it would be over.

Callum pulled me into him even tighter, and as we waited for the results to be read, as I waited for our fate to be announced, I looked up at him.

He was already looking down at me, and his expression was so intense it nearly knocked me over. He was looking at me like he never wanted to look away. Like he couldn’t bear it if we went home because that meant our deal was done.

Staring up at him, I realized I might just feel the same.

Then, Gemma’s voice was calling out, and the moment of truth was upon us.

“Amy and Adam, and Jess and Mike.”

My heart sank as the words washed over me. I was safe.

We were safe. We were staying in the villa.

But Jess was going home. It was the worst kind of consolation prize.

I pulled myself away from Callum and headed straight for Jess, enveloping her in a hug.

“I’m so sorry,” I told her.

“Don’t be,” she said. I pulled back but kept hold of her, squeezing her tight.

“You’ve been the best friend to me, and I’m going to miss you so much.”

She squeezed me back. “You and Callum are the real thing; I just know it. Trust your gut and go with your heart and you’ll be great.”

I threw my arms around her again and held on even as the other girls came over to say their goodbyes.

This was part of the Bella Amore experience I hadn’t prepared myself for. The part that was worse than the lack of personal space or communal bathrooms or constant surveillance.

Saying goodbye.

33

Iwas sandy and exhausted when the beach shoot finally ended.

“That’s a wrap on this location,” a producer called out from somewhere behind the monitors.

Just as quickly as we had been shuttled down to the beach, mic’d up, and put in front of a camera, it was all over—the set being broken down, and producers leaving to plan whatever form of torture they had in store for us next.

Any other day I would have lingered on the beach, wanting more time out of the villa and to watch the crew disassemble everything. But standing here looking at the abandoned set and at the monitors that stood with dark screens, their live feed having been cut, I found myself wanting nothing to do with the show. I was suddenly bone tired, exhausted from weeks of stress and emotional anxiety that was now catching up to me. Seeing the physical reminders that this whole experience was being filmed and distributed for public consumption was too much to handle when I was already feeling so drained.

Not waiting to be told what to do, I turned my back on the beach, climbed the stairs up and away from the scene, and got into an idling van that would take us back to the villa.