Lena sat stiffly on the velvet couch, her body angled ever-so-slightly away from Jason. The light above them warmed the back of her neck, but her skin ran cold. She could hear him breathing—not ragged, not panicked, just steady. Too steady. As if the sight of her hadn't cracked open months of silence like a glass under pressure.
She didn't dare glance at him, not even peripherally. She'd spent so long constructing walls around her healing that one glimpse might shatter the illusion of recovery. He was too close. Close enough to touch. Close enough to remind her of how it used to be. Of how he used to look at her like she was the only thing anchoring him to the world.
Now, she felt like a ghost beside him.
The host, a woman named Darla with perfect posture, stepped into the center of the set with a beaming smile. Her voice was bright, laced with practiced enthusiasm.
"Now that everyone's here," Darla chirped, "Everyone should elaborate more—what brings you to Love Unseen?"
The set is where they were on stage, the cameras were on, and this will likely be aired as the first episode. A live audience was also watching them.
Lena had been informed via text earlier that they would be going to the Big Brother house tonight, so she assumes the same goes for the other participants.
The contestants responded one by one, each voice rolling out a carefully curated version of truth. "I want to find my person because I haven't had a boyfriend since birth and I think I am ready now," said a blonde girl with glossy lips and glowing skin named Ruby.
"I've been hurt, but I believe that there are second chances to find love," offered a guy with denim jacket and smells good of his cologne named Jayden.
Lena didn't hear most of them. The words blurred, hollow and distant. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap, nails pressing half-moon indents into her skin. The hem of her navy dress suddenly felt too tight, her breath shallow. Jason's presence beside her burned like ice. She could feel the heat of his body even without looking. Could feel his silence. His calm.
How could he be calm?
Then the mic came to her.
The assistant crouched down, offering it with a gentle nod.
She hesitated a fraction too long, then raised the mic to her lips. Her voice came out smooth, practiced, even. Not hers, but the version she'd rehearsed in the mirror at 2 AM.
"I came here to move on," she said. "To start fresh since I think I am already ready."
A pause followed—only a heartbeat's worth—but it echoed. Her words weren't poetic or catchy. But they were real. Or real enough to quiet the room.
A few heads nodded. She passed the mic back, still without looking to him. Still refusing to acknowledge the ghost beside him.
Then it was his turn.
Jason accepted the mic with a nod, casual as ever. He looked relaxed, composed. The years hadn't stolen the stillness he carried like armor. He leaned forward slightly and said, "Same. New chapter."
That was all.
Three words.
Three words that stabbed sharper than anything else that had been said tonight.
Lena's jaw tensed. Her fingers curled. Same? He had the audacity to echo her—to make it sound like they were walking the same road, when he'd been the one to veer off and leave her bleeding on the side?
She kept her face neutral. The camera lingered on her just long enough to catch the faintest twitch of her lip, then panned away.
Darla clapped her hands together, radiant. "Wonderful! You all have such beautiful stories. I can't wait to see where they take you. For all our audience, tonight, they will go inside the house as their first night! Good bye!" She turned toward the nearest camera.
"Let's get to know each other off-camera too." Darna said to the participants as soon as the camera light blinked off.
Lena bolted to her feet. Happenings were too quick. Her knees buckled slightly, forcing her to grab the armrest for balance.
There is a dinner for them before they go inside the dating house.
She drifted toward the snack table, grateful for the excuse to breathe. Her fingers curled around the stem of a champagne flute, but she didn't drink it. The bubbles of it caught the light and reminded her too much of all the times they'd toasted to futures that never came.
Jason didn't move. Didn't look at her. Or maybe he did, and she refused to notice.
Fine. She didn't need him to.
But her chest was caving. It felt like someone had pressed a hand there and refused to let go.
Jason stood on the other side of the room, near one of the soft-lit panels. Hands in his pockets. Back straight. He wasn't talking to anyone either. Wasn't trying. Just there. Existing. Calm as hell.
Two strangers in a room full of hopeful hearts. Neither of them playing the game.
"Hey." A voice tugged her attention sideways.
She turned. A contestant with tousled dark curls and an easy smile held out a drink. "I saw you sitting through that whole intro like you are thinking deep. Thought you might need this."
The guy handed her a glass of wine.
Lena let out a short laugh. "Was it that obvious?"
He grinned. "Nah, just... familiar. First days are weird. I'm Jayden, by the way."
She took the drink. "Lena. Thanks."
He lifted his own glass and took a sip. "Cheers to pretending we're fine, I guess."
That actually made her laugh—genuinely this time. She clinked her glass against his and took a sip. He wasn't bad company. Charming, in a relaxed way. The kind of person who knows how to socialize.
They talked for a few minutes—about the set, the cameras, how weird it was to flirt with someone under lights hotter than the sun. Jayden told her he used to work as model and used to be in cameras but not into live nationwide television where no editing of words and no double take.
Jayden is a good guy who distracts her.
But every now and then, she caught the weight of Jason's gaze.
Not directly. Not openly. But she could feel it.
And when she risked the briefest glance across the room, he wasn't watching anyone else. Just her.
She quickly turned back to Jayden, heart thudding. He didn't notice. Or maybe he did and pretended not to. Either way, she was grateful.
Because if Jason still cared, even a little—then all of this got messier.
She finished her drink in one long swallow, the bubbles sharp in her throat. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was defiance, but she smiled wider now. Tossed her hair. Laughed louder. She could pretend. She could perform. Hell, she'd spent months learning how.
She was Lena again. She was fine.
And if she wasn't?
She'd fake it until she was.