‘… founder and spokesperson for Ties Out For The Boys day…’
I nearly choked on my champagne.
‘… your Romeo, Dylan Jayasinghe Mellor!’
You know that bit in superhero movies where you think the hero is dead, but then they come striding out of the smoke, basically unharmed and clearly having done some incredibly heroic deed?
There wasn’t any smoke. But it felt like there was smoke.
On the driveway, I’d only taken in little details totally divorced from any kind of context. This was the first time I’d put them all together.
All those superheroes could go fuck themselves, because Dylan Jayasinghe Mellor was so hot he was probably an energy source for solar panels.
He towered over Z. The faintest five o’clock shadow graced his chiselled jaw. He smiled, and his teeth were so white and so sparkling they looked like the ‘after’ shot from a toothpaste commercial.
How was I supposed to get a man this attractive to like me enough to take me to the final four? When all the women here were stunningly beautiful? And I’d proved to him that I was incapable of the basics of human interaction?
‘Hi, everyone,’ Dylan said.
He even had a hot voice. I didn’t know how to begin to quantify what a hot voice was, but he had one.
‘Dylan, you’ve got to call them Juliets,’ Steve said. ‘Let’s go again.’
‘Hi, Juliets,’ Dylan said. ‘It’s so lovely to meet you all.’
Everyone around me started cheering. I joined in, a second too late.
‘Welcome, Dylan!’ Z said. ‘What does it feel like to be the Romeo?’
‘It’s absolutely surreal,’ he said. ‘I feel incredibly blessed and privileged to be here with all these wonderful women who’ve given up their time just for a chance at love.’
‘Tell us why you decided to come on this journey. What are you looking for?’
‘Isn’t everyone looking for the same thing?’ Dylan said, smiling and flashing his perfect white teeth again. ‘Love?’
How much could you charge for sponcon when you looked like that? People would definitely be lining up to buy teeth-whitening strips off him on Instagram.
‘What do you like, though?’ Lily called out. ‘Blondes? Brunettes? Redheads? Fireballs?’
‘I think what Lily Fireball is very subtly trying to ask,’ Z said, ‘is: what’s your type, Dylan? What do you look for in a potential Juliet?’
‘Physically, I wouldn’t say I have a type,’ he replied. ‘But I like strong women. Tough women. Women who like a challenge and who don’t back down.’
Okay. Okay. I could do this. I could make him like me. I could be strong. I could be tough.
Hell, Iwasstrong! Iwastough! I survived nine different group homes. So many shitty foster parents I’d lost count. Getting kicked out the second I turned eighteen with zero dollars to my name. Couch-surfing. Dumpster-diving. Clawing my way up from having literally nothing to make a life for myself!
Backing down from those challenges hadn’t ever actuallybeen an option, but I still hadn’t backed down, right? Plus, I sure as hell wasn’t going to back down from the challenge of relearning how to speak the English language in the next, oh, twenty minutes!
‘Well, you’re going to love me, then,’ Lily purred. ‘Shall we go for a chat?’
‘Lily Fireball moves fast!’ Z declared, as Lily took Dylan’s hand and towed him away, apparently without waiting for an answer. ‘Remember, Juliets: time with the Romeo is crucial. Make the most of your opportunity, because there will be a Necklace Ceremony at the end of the evening. When I return: the party’s over.’
I downed the rest of my champagne and headed back to the bar. I didn’t have a watch, but surely I was into my second hour in the Juliet Villa by now. If I was going to get up my nerve to do the excruciatingly awkward ‘Hey, sorry, but can I steal you for a second?’ thing (or say literally any words at all), I was going to need some (more) liquid courage.
Amanda was at the bar as well. ‘Hey!’ she said. ‘Can you believe this is happening?’
‘Not really,’ I replied, flagging down the bartender. ‘This whole night has kind of felt like having an out-of-body experience.’
