After an interminable stretch of absentmindedly scrolling through the internet, Reese appears behind the locker room door.

  "What are you doing here?" he asks as he approaches, weaving between the lockers and benches.

  He’s wearing the jumpsuit instead of the two-piece uniform, but the upper part hangs loosely around his hips, revealing the white tank top underneath. He drops down beside her on the metal bench, his hand immediately reaching for her hair, pushing it behind her back. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the loose sleeve draped over his waist, his breathing still labored from training.

  "Rebecca," he begins. He reaches across the bench, his hand hovering over hers for a moment before pulling back. "I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with Lena. Honestly. It doesn’t… what she said… I didn’t." He stops to take another breath, choosing his words carefully. "Look, it’s true I talked to Vanessa yesterday, and she said all of those things, but…"

  Rebecca meets his gaze, squeezing his hand to draw his attention. She looks at him with her head tilted, touched by his concern and the fact that he approached her to clear things up.

  "I know," she replies softly, her voice calm as she tries to soothe his obvious distress.

  Reese looks at her with narrowed eyes. "You know?"

  She nods. "Yeah, they both talked to me. Lena asked if it was okay for her to upload a video talking about us and the things Vanessa said to you."

  Reese looks surprised. "And you gave her permission?"

  Rebecca shrugs. "I couldn’t give her permission to do anything; she’s a grown woman. But… I’m worried about her. She’s desperate, and it’s not just about this situation—it’s deeper than that."

  Reese nods, his jaw clenching. "I know," he murmurs. Then, he gives Rebecca a suspicious look. "You want me to help her too, don’t you?"

  "Well," Rebecca begins. "I don’t want you fighting more than you already are. But," she lowers her voice, "if we really manage to escape, yes, I want to include her in our plans."

  Reese nods.

  "So…" He glances around cautiously to ensure they’re alone. "Did you find anything else? Anything new?" He gestures at her phone. "I’ve been thinking nonstop about those stupid helicopters."

  "You have?" she breathes out.

  "It’s too much of a coincidence. It fucking stinks."

  "It does," Rebecca replies.

  He leans forward, his voice softening. "So, you’re not… mad at me? For talking to Van?" The question is hesitant, almost whispered.

  Rebecca shakes her head and squeezes his hand again. "I’m not mad. I told her to talk to you, just…" She smiles, but it’s a bittersweet smile. "Just… please don’t call her ‘Van’ like she’s your friend or something. Ever again. Okay?"

  Reese feigns surprise. "Did I do that? I won’t do it again, I promise."

  They leave the training room before tea time, which most of the contestants usually skip. They head to the common room; Rebecca needs a moment of peace and quiet. She needs to shut down the circling thoughts in her head about season seven. She also needs to look at something other than her phone.

  But what she thinks will be a moment of rest—maybe lying down on their usual armchair, sitting on Reese’s lap, letting him rub her head while she leans on his shoulder—turns into one of the most humiliating afternoons she’s had so far.

  Vanessa is in the common room. That’s the first unpleasant surprise. She’s not alone. Contestant 24 sits beside her. He’s around the same age as Reese and Rebecca. Before Live, he was a high school teacher. His neighbors had called the police one day, complaining that ‘the smell of marijuana was unbearable.’ They weren’t wrong. He had a whole operation going. A plantation. Sold after class. Rebecca had noticed his popularity rising lately. Ever since he won his second fight in the arena. His ability, Internal Blade Structures, made him a brutal competitor. Rebecca hoped she never had to face him in battle. Or Reese.

  As soon as he notices Reese, he stands up and walks toward them.

  “Here you are,” he says. He’s smiling—he always is—but there’s nothing friendly about it. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Steve, what are you doing?” Vanessa asks from her seat.

  Contestant 24 ignores her. “Do you think what you’re doing is funny?”

  Rebecca’s eyes shift from Contestant 24 to Reese, who looks visibly confused. “What did I do?”

  “I think you know.”

  Other contestants start gathering in the common room, drawn by the tension between Reese and Contestant 24. The twins, who had been sitting there all along, now stand right beside them.

  “Ooh! Things just got exciting, people,” Contestant 6 says.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Oh, you need a little help?” Contestant 24 asks. “Turns out your other minion is posting videos about you now—about the drama you stirred up.

  “I don't remember having minions.”

  “You treat people like they’re disposable. Like they’re just props in your soap opera. I get that you love the attention—you’re a performer, after all—but that doesn’t give you the right.”

  “I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about Vanessa. She’s not a toy for you to play with.”

  “Steve, please don’t.”

  “I know she’s not a toy. I never forced her to do anything.”

  Contestant 24 scoffs. “You know, men like you are the problem.”

  “Men like me?”

  By this point, all of the contestants are crammed around them. Rebecca hides behind Reese. Lena does too, staring at Contestant 24 and Vanessa in pure horror.

  “Yeah, men like you, who think they own the world and see women as objects.”

  Reese’s body tenses. “Didn’t you used to sell marijuana to your high school students after class?”

  “I never sold it to my students.”

  “Oh, come on, 24. Nothing here stays a secret.”

  “It’s just a plant. They were going to get it anyway. At least I made sure they got something of good quality.”

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  “Oh! So first you didn’t sell it to your students, and now you’re bragging about quality? Looks like we’re not so different after all.”

  “Burn, y’all!” Contestant 6 shouts, waving his hand violently.

  “At least I’m not sleeping around, treating women like trash, passing venereal diseases around.”

  Involuntarily, Rebecca gasps. The sound is loud enough for Contestant 6 to catch it.

  “Ooooh! Someone didn’t wear a rubber. Busted!”

  Reese glances back at Rebecca over his shoulder, fighting his irritation. “Don’t listen to him, Rebecca.”

  Contestant 24 turns his attention to her. “You don’t have to be with him, 42. You think he’s protecting you, but think about it—he’s the reason you were picked for the arena.”

  “Don’t you fucking talk to her.”

  “She’s not your property. She has a voice and an opinion of her own.”

  “You think I don’t know that?”

  “No, I think you see her as a trophy with a convenient hole to put your dick in.”

  “That was brutal!”

  Just as Contestant 6 makes his little comment, Reese shouts “Take that shit back!” although he doesn’t give Contestant 24 the opportunity to do it. Instead, he throws himself at him, with all the strength of his body and punches him directly in the jaw. Rebecca watches in horror as his hand bleeds every time he punches Contestant 24, who’s now pinned on the floor under Reese’s body. Contestant 24 doesn’t try to defend himself. Tiny, almost imperceptive blades stick out from his skin, cutting through Reese’s. It doesn’t stop Reese, who lands blow after blow, without hesitation or remorse.

  A metallic tile on the floor slides open, and a spider drone emerges. It extends two of its pointy legs and presses the tips against Reese and Contestant 24. The fight ends instantly—abruptly—as they both convulse on the floor, jolted by the electric shocks from the spider drone. Even after they’ve stopped fighting, the drone remains motionless between them, as if ensuring compliance. Rebecca kneels beside Reese, gently grasping his arm. Vanessa does the same with Contestant 24.

  “I hope women unite today.” He says. “And vote you off.”

  “Dude, you’re delusional!!” Contestant 6 exclaims. “They’re not voting him off, they all thirsty for him.”

  Tonight’s fight is an intriguing one. Neither Reese nor Contestant 24 is chosen to fight. As it happens, women did unite—against Constant 6. Apparently, they felt insulted by his “thirsty” comment.

  He faces off against Contestant 51. Her boyfriend—and his drug-addicted clients—had successfully kept her away from the battles, but they broke up recently. It all started when he forgot to send her usual dose of methamphetamine. That’s when she found out he’d gained a bit of fame thanks to Live, and was now dating two other women. As usual, the crowd in the arena is euphoric, and the hosts are thrilled.

  When their numbers are announced, both contestants stand up confidently, but Rebecca can’t decide who looks more unstable. She and Reese watch from a shadowed corner, their faces only partially illuminated by the pulsing light of the screen showing the arena’s action.

  The fight begins with a clear advantage for the twin. He’s faster, stronger—and even though it soon becomes clear he doesn't have a strategy, his energy makes up for it. Contestant 51 can barely keep up. Every time she tries to attack him, she becomes more and more sedated. Her movements slow, her eyes unfocused. It’s his skill. His sweat has a drugging effect.

  Ironic, Rebecca thinks.

  A faint smile plays on Reese’s lips. “Impressive,” he murmurs. “The little viper. Thank fucking god he can’t keep his mouth shut.” He doesn’t blink and taps a finger against his knee. He seems to be analyzing the movements, as he always does, dissecting his patterns. Unlike Contestant 24, whose face is still disfigured, he’s completely healed from their fight.

  The other twin, Contestant 9, paces restlessly through the common room, agitated. He keeps running a hand through his hair, muttering to himself, his movements disrupting the already awkward silence.

  Rebecca watches him from the corner of her eye. She’s always feared both twins, but this—one fighting brutally, the other taking under his breath—only intensifies that fear.

  Reese, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort, continues to dissect Contestant 6’s performance.

  Contestant 51 doesn’t give up until the very end, when the twin crushes her skull with a series of kicks, burying her head into the dirt floor. The cheers from the viewing gallery—both the muffled ones coming from the arena and the ones broadcast through the common room speakers—evoke a rush of adrenaline, like the screams of people on a roller coaster. They love it.

  Reese, perched on the edge of the armchair, leans forward, his gaze fixed on the replay of Contestant 6's winning move.

  “The only thing Reese cares about is winning as many battles as possible.” Lena’s words replay in Rebecca’s ear, so vivid they send a chill down her spine

  Hours after the fight, Rebecca lies beside Reese, who's profoundly asleep. The only light comes from the faint glow of the digital clock on the nightstand—3:17 AM. Silence reigns in the compound. She can’t sleep.

  Gently, she nudges Reese awake. His eyes flutter open, dark and sleepy, then sharpen as he takes in her anxious expression. Half his face is blurred by shadows, the dim light highlighting his jawline and the faint creases around his eyes.

  “Hmm?” he murmurs.

  "Reese," she whispers. She doesn’t even notice when she starts drawing circles with her finger on his chest. "Are you awake?"

  He nods, his hand reaching out to gently cup her cheek. "Trouble sleeping, love?"

  "I… I can’t shake it," she admits, her gaze drifting toward the ceiling. "Please don’t be mad, but I need to know. Do you still enjoy fighting?”

  Reese sighs. Rebecca bites her lip.

  "I never did. I only thought I…" Another breath. "No. I don’t. You have to believe me."

  "Okay," Rebecca says. A pause. "Reese… Do you have a venereal disease?"

  Reese snaps his eyes open. He hesitates, his hand freezing on her cheekbone. “Rebecca, don’t listen to that moron. He just wants screen time, that’s all.”

  Rebecca turns onto her side, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. “So, you don’t. Have you checked?” Her words are muffled against his skin, her lips brushing his neck.

  Reese takes a moment to think, his hand now rubbing the back of her head. "No, but I don’t think so. Hey, I’m not as promiscuous as that jackass made me out to be," he says. "And if you’re really worried, we can do a check-up when we’re out of here."

  Silence.

  "So you really think we’ll get out of here together, then?"

  "That I do. I promise," he says, sounding sleepy again.

  "But what about after? If we get out of here… what then?" she presses.

  He clears his throat, making an effort to stay awake. "After? I'll make sure nobody bothers us, Becca. I swear it. We'll find a quiet place, somewhere far away from this… this nightmare. Somewhere they can’t find us. It’ll be just you and me… and an STD clinic, I suppose."

  She leans into him, the warmth of his body incredibly comforting.

  "It sounds like a dream, Reese," she confesses, half joking, half serious. "It's so perfect it’s hard to believe we could make it real."

  He presses a kiss to her head, his lips lingering for a moment.

  "But we will, Becky. Mark my words."

  Rebecca falls silent, almost immovable under Reese’s arms. His scent is addictive. She can’t imagine a future without it; she can’t recall how she ever managed to live without the comfort it brings.

  Reese’s hand, the one resting on her hip, draws her closer. A soft moan escapes his lips.

  "Stop thinking so much, Rebecca," he says. "It’s true when I say everything I want, I get."

  After a moment of hesitation, Rebecca tells him, “I’m doing my best to believe you, Reese.”

  Reese’s grip tightens, his thumb stroking the small of her back. Then, slowly, he pulls his head back, giving himself space to meet her eyes.

  "I won’t disappoint you, Becca," he says, his hands now holding both sides of her head, forcing her to look at him. "I’m not just saying this, I mean it. I’m constantly thinking about a way to get us out of here. Every damn hour of every day.”

  He raises his eyebrows, trying to coax a positive response out of her.

  “It’s been like that since… since I realized this thing between us it’s not part of the game. It’s real. I don’t know how the hell that happened, but it is."

  He pauses, fully awake now.

  "Every waking moment. Every goddamn nightmare. I don’t care about fighting or winning anymore. My only priority is getting out of here with you. I found you. I’m not letting you go."

  Rebecca answers with a smile. She sees honesty in his eyes, and hears truth in his words. How much of that is just her own desire to believe him?

  “Now,” Reese begins, with a smirk on his face. “I’m fully awake because of you, so you better find a way to make me go back to sleep.” He rubs his chin and looks at the ceiling, pretending to think. “What could you do for me to bring me back to sleep?”

  "Shut up," Rebecca says, nudging him softly on the shoulder.

  She stares at him, her heart aching with a tenderness that defies everything she’s ever believed. She notices the shadows under his eyes, the worry lines around his mouth, the faint tremor in his hand that he constantly tries to mask.

  She’s so thankful for him she wonders why the universe is favoring her like this.

  Does she even deserve it?

  A deep sigh escapes her lips.

  With a quiet contentment she hasn’t felt in a long time, Rebecca finally drifts off to sleep, her head resting against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a lullaby in the otherwise silent compound.