Performing Desire

The house learned quickly.

What the audience liked, we were forced to repeat.

By Day Seven, we were no longer contestants.

We were content.

“Arjun,” the host said during the morning briefing, “the audience wants more vulnerability from you.”

He smiled politely.

“And you,” she said, turning to me, “they want you to stop hiding.”

Laughter erupted.

I didn’t laugh.

Diary Room – Day 7

I joined this show to disappear.

Now they want me exposed.

The task that day was called “Chemistry Test.”

We had to reenact moments from our past romantic moments real or imagined.

“Choose wisely,” the producer said. “The audience can tell when you’re faking.”

Arjun looked at me.

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

I should’ve said no.

Instead, I said, “Let’s make it honest.”

We chose a quiet moment.

Two people sitting on a bed, talking after midnight.

No grand gestures. No kissing.

Just closeness.

We sat inches apart, knees almost touching.

I spoke first.

“I’ve spent my life trying to be unremarkable,” I said. “Because remarkable things get taken.”

Arjun swallowed.

“I’ve spent mine being remarkable,” he replied. “And wondering what it would feel like to be chosen quietly.”

The room was silent.

The house watched.

The cameras didn’t breathe.

Diary Room – Producer Note (Overlay)

Audience engagement spiked by 42%.

After the task, Arjun didn’t leave.

He stayed sitting there, eyes downcast.

“You meant that,” he said.

“Yes.”

“So did I.”

The air between us felt electric charged with something we weren’t naming.

“I can’t afford this,” he said softly.

“I can’t afford not to feel it,” I replied.

That was the moment.

The line we crossed without touching.

That night, another vote.

Someone accused us of colluding.

Someone else said, “If either of them is straight, they’re geniuses.”

Arjun said nothing.

I defended us again.

The vote passed.

Another man left.

Later, in the dark hallway, Arjun stopped me.

“If this ruins my career,” he said, “will you regret it?”

I thought of the money. The lie. The safety.

“No,” I said.

He nodded.

Then very carefully he rested his forehead against mine.

No kiss.

No cameras catching mouths.

Just breath. Just truth pressing close.

Diary Room – Day 7

Straight men don’t lean in like that.

I think I’ve been lying longer than I realized.