Don’t forget to share your thoughts in the comments! We’re already down to the two final bachelors. Who do you think will win Sophia’s heart; Chris Wu or Seokjin Shin?
The long-awaited finale of CUPID CALLING will air next week exclusively on Netflicks.
THIRTY
“WELCOME BACK, EVERYONE, TO CUPID Calling!” Ameri Shae said into the mic to the sound of roaring applause. She beamed, looking dazzling in a pale pink pantsuit, her locs pulled up into a neat bun on her head, held in place by a glittering golden hairpin that resembled a tiara. “We’re coming to you live from London—say hello to the folks at home, people!” She paused so the audience could hoot and holler, before continuing with a grin, “With twenty-seven out of twenty-eight of our eliminated bachelors in attendance!”
The audience applauded again on cue, while the cameras panned to show them, before swinging to show the men in attendance. When the camera landed briefly on him, Ejiro hoped his smile was genuine and not a grimace, though it felt very much like the latter. It had only been four months since they’d filmed the show in Oxford—two since it had started airing on Netflicks—yet it felt like a completely different time, like it could’ve been years ago instead. Being in front of cameras again shouldn’t have felt so alien, but it was all Ejiro could do to act natural and not be as stiff as a board.
Once again, he wished desperately that the seats weren’t so far apart; he wished he could have had Obiora pressed against his side to calm his nerves.
He had Obiora seated directly beside him on his left, but each of the men had been given individual seating spaced about a foot apart. Thirteen of them were seated in a semi-circle facing Ameri, while the remaining fourteen of them were seated a step higher behind the other bachelors, so the cameras could capture them all in one swoop.
Since the lead up to the live episode, Obiora had repeatedly told him he didn’t have to say or do anything if Ameri asked about their relationship—which she undoubtedly would, given that they’d been trending on and off since episode seven had aired three weeks ago, the speculation made worse when Ejiro had given Obiora permission to post what he’d later realise was an ill-advised photo of the two of them on his Instagram.
He hadn’t even been recognisable in the picture—it had just been their legs showing—but the fans had gone absolutely rabid, sharing and reposting and zooming and circling that Obiora deleting the pic did nothing but fan the flames.
Ejiro bit his lower lip as he remembered. Neither he nor Obiora had even been thinking about the show; they’d been dating for six weeks when Obiora had asked Ejiro to move in with him. Ejiro had been gripped by fear; wasn’t it too soon? Were they moving too fast? Ajiri had had to sit him down and explain that he shouldn’t be living by society’s expectations.
“Because what even is “too fast”?” she’d asked with a roll of her eyes. “A month? Two? Six? A year? Fuck all that shit. Honestly.”
The next time Ejiro had gone to see Obiora, he’d done so with most of his things in tow. The expression on Obiora’s face that day; Ejiro would never forget it. He’d never in his life felt more loved, and seeing how he felt reflected in Obiora’s eyes only cemented in that not only had he made the right decision, but he wanted to spend the rest of his life putting that awed, overjoyed look on Obiora’s face again and again.
Obiora had posted the picture on a whim; he’d been so, so happy about Ejiro moving in, and he’d wanted to share that happiness with his wider group of friends along with the few members of his class at the gym who followed him on Instagram.
They’d only realised their mistake when the likes and comments and follows started flooding in. They hadn’t even been able to discuss the situation before Ameri had gotten wind of it—because of course she had—and had called Obiora immediately to not-so-subtly remind them they were still under contract and their relationship (or lack thereof) could not be publicly spoken about or addressed until either the live episode, or the show itself had finished airing.
The whole thing had made his poor lover panic and delete the pic, and remembering how genuinely stressed out Obiora had been brought a soft, fond smile to Ejiro’s lips. God, Obiora could be so freaking endearing without even meaning to be.
“It’s okay,” Ejiro remembered saying, while Obiora had silently freaked out.
“It’s not okay,” Obiora argued. “I may have just unintentionally outed you to the entire world, Ejiro. This is serious.”
“Baby, I gave you permission to post the picture, remember? I knew the risks.”
“Yeah, but we thought we were sharing the photo to a certain group of people. Fuck, I should’ve made my Instagram private.”
“Yes, because that would have helped,” Ejiro had mocked playfully.
Obiora had grinned at him, some of his panic receding in light of Ejiro’s teasing. “Don’t you snark at me.”
They’d kissed, and all was—mostly—forgotten.
Then they’d gotten the call for the details of the live show, and the panic had returned full-force. The fans might have used that picture to jump to conclusions, but Ejiro knew they wouldn’t really be satisfied until they had concrete proof, which meant at some point, Ameri was going to ask them about it.
It was at that moment that Ejiro had begun to understand why Obiora had been panicking so badly. It was one thing to come out to his family and close friends, but on live TV? With what would undoubtedly feel like the whole world watching? It shouldn’t have felt so terrifying, but it did. God, it did.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Obiora had repeated to him in an intimate whisper when they’d been sequestered in a secluded corner backstage, preparing to come on with the other men. They’d had their foreheads pressed together, hands clasped tightly between them. Obiora was clearly nervous yet trying not to show it in order to be strong for Ejiro, which just made Ejiro love him more. “You can just say no comment, that you’d rather not answer or you could say we’re just good friends now, or whatever. You don’t owe these people anything.”
“Don’t I?” Ejiro had asked, not really expecting an answer.
“You don’t,” Obiora repeated, voice a little hard.
Ejiro swallowed thickly. Before he could respond, they were being called to the main stage.
Obiora kissed him hard. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
