When they were gathered in front of the pool, Ameri made a signal for the cameras to keep rolling then began to speak.
“Congratulations, everyone, for making it past night one!” There was some applause and hollers from the staff, which made some of the bachelors smile proudly. “In a minute, I will be showing you around the mansion where you will be spending most of your time for the duration of the filming. For now”—she nodded at someone behind them, and one of the staff walked forward, handing each bachelor a sealed, thin brown A4 envelope—“the other producers and I have taken the liberty of making a small fact sheet containing pertinent information regarding our bachelorette. Obviously, you have the choice not to use the fact sheet, and instead get to know her yourselves as the filming commences. But if you want a leg over for what we have planned for the rest of the filming, go on ahead and give it a read.”
Obiora took the envelope. When he looked around him, most of the bachelors wore the same thoughtful frown on their faces. Should they risk not reading the fact sheet—because it was a risk, assuming they wouldn’t be eliminated next—or should they go in blind and get to know the bachelorette authentically during the group dates?
“For a little bit of incentive, the bachelorette will also be given fact sheets on all the bachelors present here tonight, though whether she will read them or not, we will not reveal. Do with that information what you will.” Ameri smiled deviously, then her expression turned serious. “Now, since you all are absolutely cut off from the rest of the world, the other producers and I thought it would be vital to provide you all with a space within the mansion for whenever you feel stressed out and either need some time alone, or simply need a space to vent.
“Please remember, this is still a reality television series, so while this room is absolutely meant for your mental health and privacy, there are still cameras installed within. Only Diana”—she nodded at one of the other producers, who waved at them when they looked—“and I will have access to the feed of this room. If you feel you’ve revealed something personal you absolutely do not want anyone else to see, please come see us and let us know, and we’ll delete the footage immediately.”
Her expression turned sly. “You are, of course, highly encouraged to use this room to trash talk your competitors behind their backs, and share some gossip the viewers otherwise may not have seen while the cameras were rolling. For example, if a bachelor is sweet and lovely during the filming but an absolute bastard when y’all are inside the house? Please spill the motherfucking tea.”
They all burst out laughing. Ameri grinned wide, all teeth and gums.
“That’s all for now. Since it’s already quite late today, I’ll see you all bright and early in the morning, eight AM sharp! We’ll be using the day to film your confessionals while the night is still fresh in your minds. Make sure you have a good rest up until then. Goodnight, everyone.”
THE MANSION HAD SIX BIG rooms, each with four beds to one wall and wardrobes on the other. Their luggage hadn’t been moved up until after the elimination, meaning the six bachelors to go home tonight hadn’t even been able to spend a single night within the mansion’s walls. Obiora grimaced as he thought about it. That was really fucking unlucky—making it all the way here only to be booted off on night one.
There were four bathrooms, two upstairs and two downstairs, and the men dutifully agreed to split the use of the bathrooms equally between the number of rooms—three rooms and twelve people to two bathrooms—to prevent any mishaps.
And that was about as far as they’d made it in regards to decisions about the house before most of the men signed off stating exhaustion. They’d deal with how to share the rest of their amenities in the morning.
Their things had been brought up by the staff, so it was a matter of finding their luggage to indicate who roomed where.
Obiora felt a faint sense of dread at the thought that he might be rooming with Ejiro, but let out a sigh of barely concealed relief when his fourth and final roommate finally appeared and it wasn’t the man he’d slighted.
“Yo,” the guy greeted. He was white, medium height, medium build, with dark moles spotted all over his pale face. His auburn hair was cut short to his scalp. “I’m Ricky. What’s up?”
“Jin,” the first guy to the room said, already settled in bed, glasses perched on his nose and a book in his lap. Obiora had already met him during the group date. He was Korean-British, his skin brown, eyes dark, hair a perfect golden blonde, with an accent so posh Obiora felt like a slug next to him. The man was wearing actual silk pyjamas, with his initials neatly embroidered in gold thread onto the breast pocket.
“Obiora.”
“Tyler,” the final guy said, looking up from where he’d been rifling through his luggage by the wardrobe beside the door. He was also white—paler, skinnier, and shorter than Ricky, with straight, inky dark hair going all the way down to his hips. His nails were painted with gleaming dark polish.
“Obiora?” Ricky repeated, his grin widening. He walked up to him, holding out a friendly fist. “What you did down there? Class act, man.” He laughed.
Obiora grinned a little uncomfortably, and bumped fists with him. “Thanks.”
“You think so?” Jin said from his bed, his tone tinged with disapproval. Though they had practically nothing in common—apart from the glasses and the general studiousness—Obiora was suddenly reminded of his eldest brother. It felt like Obinna was here, arms crossed over his chest, lips pursed as he shook his head with disapproval.
Ricky bristled. So did Tyler. The poshness of Jin’s accent had made his question come off as slightly condescending
“Yeah?” Ricky said, looking ready to fight. He had a Yorkshire accent, which thickened in his distaste. “And what’s it to you? Obi here was just playing the game. Am I right?” He turned to Obiora with a smarmy grin. “No one said we aren’t allowed to play dirty.”
“One would expect a sense of decorum in delicate matters such as this, competition or not,” Jin said crisply. “The gentlemanly thing to do would have been to wait his turn.”
“And who shoved a stick up your arse?”
Obiora grimaced. “I mean, I should have waited. I’d probably have gotten the same effect either way,” he interjected before the argument could escalate.
Jin awarded him with a slight smile and a nod. “Precisely.”
“I have to agree, to be honest,” Tyler added. His voice was soft, fitting his small frame.
“Oh please.” Ricky scoffed. “If you want to be on the bird’s mind twenty-four seven, then you have to do what you have to do.”
Obiora winced inwardly at Sophia being referred to as a “bird.”
“Right,” Jin drawled, rolling his eyes and snapping his book shut. His bed was closest to the window, so he propped the book up on the sill, along with his glasses. “That’s bedtime for me. Goodnight.”
