It turns out Matt was partially wrong—the underground “labyrinth” did split in two places, though of course he insists this was an issue with the naming convention and not his extensive knowledge of labyrinths. Due to sheer luck, we just walked right past the turnoff points. We’re in a wide section of one of those offshoot tunnels, with the strip lights along the ground currently turned on. KC and Gabriel are set up in a high-ceilinged corner, playing cards, and the Ball-and-Chain sit at the end of the lighted strip, arguing nonstop.
“Quit being a baby, Clyde. It’s just a centipede.”
“I am not being a baby. It has a million legs.”
“Can we perform a ritual to get rid of Clyde and Cora?” Matt asks, not quietly. They turn and glare at him, then return to taking out their frustrations on each other.
All of our crew have withdrawn for the night, leaving us alone to be captured only by the stationary, tripod-mounted cameras that have been strategically placed around the area. And while I am excited to be onThe AdventureversedoingAdventureversethings, I’m a little disappointed that Yumi and I won’t get to talk in our hotel room. Our conversation from last night feels unfinished. But I wonder if it’ll ever feel finished.
I slide into my sleeping bag, watching Yumi convert her backpack into a pillow—the softest things on top. “You think anyone’s going to bail?” I ask quietly.
The corners of Yumi’s mouth quirk up. “Why? You thinking about it? You need me to keep you safe tonight, babe?”
I roll my eyes, smiling. “You wish.”
“You two are so cute,” Morgan comments with characteristic liveliness. “How long have you been dating?”
“Nine months,” Yumi and I say in tandem. I hope it comes across as soul-bond synchronicity and not practiced-in-our-hotel-room-last-night.
“Oh my God!” Morgan’s delight surprises me. “You’re just babies!”
Despite the fact that Yumi and I aren’t actually dating, I take a little offense to this. We may have only been in a (fictional) relationship for nine months, but we’ve been each other’s person foreight years. I know Morgan doesn’t mean anything by it, though, so I let it go and ask, “What about you two?”
“A little over six years, now,” Matt chimes in, happy to do anything remotely related to singing Morgan’s praises.
“Oh, wow. Long time,” Yumi says.
“Mmmhmm! We’re engaged, actually.” Morgan lifts her left hand, wiggling her ring finger. “But we didn’t want to lose the rings.”
“Can’t afford it,” Matt says, shrugging. “The life of a professional dancer. If we have to replace the rings, we won’t be able to afford the wedding.”
“Is that why you came on the show?” I ask.
They exchange a look. “Yes,” Morgan hedges, glancing at the cameras stationed around us. She ducks her head and shields her face as she silently mouths the name of a well-known dancing-based reality TV show.
I nod, understanding why she felt the need to be clandestine about wanting to useThe Adventureverseas a stepladder to get on a different show. Nobody likes aBachelorettecontestant who reveals he’stechnicallystill dating his real-life girlfriend, but it’s okay because he “only did the show to boost his music career.” No one’s favoriteSurvivorcastaway is the finance bro who won’t stop pushing his cryptocurrency in confessionals.
The audience is quick to turn on any contestant who admits to being on a show to further their own agenda, even though we all audition knowing that self-sustaining social media fame is the ultimate goal. Nobody wants to win a million dollars and then go back to working at their dead-end, soul-sucking day job. But it’slike there’s a secret agreement for everyone involved that you have to at least pretend to be around for the nebulous “right reasons.”
It’s the double bind of not-quite-reality: being authentic, but in the correct way. Like KC said, you have to become a caricature of yourself.
“What about you guys?” Morgan asks. “Superfans, right? Have you always wanted to be onThe Adventureverse?”
“Yeah,” Yumi says, looking at me with unadulterated fondness. “We’ve been watching since we were kids. Noelle has an encyclopedic knowledge of the show. Watch. Noe, who was the third team kicked off Season Seven?”
My eyes wander the cave’s ceiling as I think. “Season Seven was…Finland, Bhutan, Jordan.” I feel like one of those kids who do math competitions, moving an invisible abacus ofAdventureversechallenges and contestants. “Jordan was…” I see it, the puzzle challenge at Petra and the hot air balloon ride over Wadi Musa. “That was the Kayaking Brothers, Brian and Felipe.” I look up, finding all three of them staring at me in amazement. Even Yumi—who knew from experience that I could answer accurately—looks impressed.
“Ta-da,” my partner says with a flourish.
Morgan looks between us. “Is she right, though?”
Yumi shrugs. “I don’t know. But she always has been.”
“You can fact-check it when you get home,” I joke, knowing that there’s no way I’m wrong. “Useless trivia takes up about ninety-nine percent of my brain space.”
“Not useless here,” Morgan points out. “I guess that’s why you two are crushing it.”
Yumi and I exchange a glance. Are we crushing it? We have yet to be eliminated, so in that sense, we’re doing well.
