“An interesting take. Bachelor number four?”
“Actually, I disagree.” The audience “oohed”. Bachelor number four was Liam, the florist Sophia had handpicked on the second group date when she’d beat his now eliminated group winner on the obstacle course. “I do believe in love at first sight. Perhaps it’s a different, even lesser kind of love, but it’s still love. That’s what I believe.”
The audience “awwed.”
“That’s really sweet. Bachelor number five?”
Obiora tried not to show how much he was suddenly paying attention.
“I agree with bachelor number four,” Ejiro said, his voice silky smooth. “Though I don’t necessarily agree that it’s a lesser kind of love. What is love, anyway? How can one quantify it? When I was about eight years old, I remember walking home from school with my sister when we spotted an abandoned puppy on the side of the road. What I felt at that moment—my chest felt like it couldn’t possibly contain the emotion welling in my heart. That, I believe to this day, was—to me—love at first sight. I wanted to take that puppy home and nurse it back to health, to keep it; watch it grow a long and happy life until it died, safe and loved. Alas, my mother was not receptive to the idea.” Some of the audience members chuckled. “What makes that love any different from, say, a romantic love that has grown over a period of time of getting to know someone? Or a familial love? I still think of that puppy, brief as our interaction was, and despite the fact that I never saw it again, to this day. So, yes, I do believe in love at first sight.”
There was a brief silence, then the audience broke into applause.
“Well.” Sophia sounded a little breathless. “Thank you for that insightful response, bachelor number five. For my next question, what is your favourite season, and why? Bachelor number one.”
“Definitely summer,” Obiora answered, clearing his throat when his voice came out breathless. He couldn’t stop thinking of Ejiro’s answer, the ache in his voice as he’d spoken about an abandoned puppy. Jesus Christ he was jealous of a fucking puppy. “There’s just something inherently joyful about the season that I love a lot.”
“Winter,” Ejiro answered when it was his turn, a little shyly, which was too fucking endearing for Obiora’s heart to bear. “I’m an introvert, so cold days where I have to stay indoors all warm and snug with a mug of hot chocolate and thick socks are my jam.”
The audience “awwed” on cue.
Obiora hated how vividly he could picture it—Ejiro in a thick oversized sweater, sweatpants, and thick socks, cradling a mug of hot chocolate with melting marshmallows as he curled up underneath some blankets and watched TV on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
“Question number three, and this is a slightly serious one, what ended your last relationship? Bachelor number one.”
For a brief moment, Obiora froze. The room seemed to expand around him, while contracting at the same time, making the space feel simultaneously too big and too small. He couldn’t breathe, yet there was too much air.
Someone cleared their throat.
“My last relationship ended because …” He swallowed. Tried to put on his cocky, confident persona. “Well, when I was twenty-one, my girlfriend was involved in a car accident. She died.”
Surprised and pitying gasps echoed through the audience.
Obiora forced himself to continue, still with that carefree smile on his face, knowing that if he acted like Ada’s death still bothered him to this day, the audience wouldn’t know how to deal with it. People always felt uncomfortable in the presence of someone expressing their grief, so Obiora had learned how to hide it so they could be more comfortable plying him with empty platitudes until they could eventually change the subject without seeming dismissive or rude.
“A few years later, I met someone new, but I guess I wasn’t entirely as over Ada—that was her name—as I thought I was. My boyfriend at the time felt—rightly, might I add—I was still too attached to her, so he decided to walk. But I’m good—I’m here, after all.” He winked at the audience, and there was laughter—fleeting, but there, lifting the sombre mood.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, bachelor number one,” Sophia said, her voice soft and kind. “And thank you so much for sharing that with us today. Bachelor number two?”
Obiora didn’t pay attention to Hunter’s, Ronald’s, and Liam’s responses, only tuning in when it was Ejiro’s turn. He was painfully curious about Ejiro’s answer. Then again, what was new?
“I’ve actually only ever been in one serious relationship,” Ejiro began, a little nervously. “And I thought we were so in love we’d eventually get married, but I was wrong. She didn’t feel the same, and that was the end of that. Hoping I can change that now.”
The audience “awwed”. There was a blush in Sophia’s voice when she responded, though Obiora wasn’t listening. He was too busy thinking about this imaginary woman and how he wanted to strangle her. He couldn’t imagine Ejiro loving someone and them not loving him back. What in the actual fuck? With how reserved Ejiro was, every smile Obiora managed to pull from him felt like a gift—if he saw you fit enough to open up and give you his entire heart—
Obiora forcefully stopped that train of thought before it could take flight, his pulse galloping away at the base of his throat.
“Speaking of ex-boyfriends …” Sophia’s voice was sly. Obiora suddenly realised he’d essentially come out on national TV. Whoops? “How do you feel about the queer community? Bachelor number one.”
Obiora grinned lazily. “Well, I’m bisexual, so, I’m in full support of people deserving basic human respect no matter their orientation or presentation.”
“Period,” Sophia said, which made the audience laugh and burst into brief applause. “Bachelor number two?”
“I disagree.” The room went silent. Obiora stiffened, even though he wasn’t entirely shocked by the answer. “I’m sorry, but this is just my belief, but I think it’s unnatural. That’s just my belief. Like, I respect that they’re living their truth or whatever, but God did not make man and man to lie with each other. That’s it.”
The silence grew.
“That’s unfortunate.” Sophia’s voice was hard. “I think you might as well just pack your things right now and leave, bachelor number two. Thank you for your participation.”
