Bedroom Games

by Jill Myles

  As if the show could read my mind, a voice cut in over the soothing violin sounds in my headphones. “House Guests, please take your blindfolds and headphones off. When your booth chimes, you will be allowed to enter the house. Once inside, there will be stools onstage marked with your name. Please proceed to your labeled stool and sit.”

  I pulled the headphones off, resisting the urge to rock on my heels with anticipation. I was wearing high heels—which I never did, because they messed up your feet and I made a living off of my feet—and rocking backward would have been dangerous. I pulled the headphones the rest of the way off, removed the blindfold, and waited.

  A moment later, there was a ding in my booth, and I opened the door.

  The isolation booths had been set up on the porch of the creepy house, so I didn’t have far to walk to get inside. Show staff was there to point me to the door, ushering me inside, so I knew they weren’t filming this part. My guess was that they’d film my grand entrance.

  I headed to the big double-doors and an assistant put a hand in front of the door, gesturing for me to wait. After a moment, he cocked his head, listening to his headphones. Then, he nodded and moved aside so I could enter.

  I took a deep breath. This was my chance to save my mom—and my sanity—in one fell swoop. All I had to do was slither my way to the top and get the jury to vote for me.

  I put a hand on the door and stepped forward.

  My heel caught on one of the cords stretched across the doorway, and I stumbled into the house, nearly face-planting. I managed to catch myself, staggering and nearly plowing into one of the people waiting on the other side of the door.

  Memorable entrance, yes. Graceful, not so much.

  “You okay?” A man moved to my side as I wobbled and tried not to fall. He put a steadying arm around my waist.

  “House Guests! No talking until you are given the go-ahead. Please move to your seats.”

  I looked over at the man, flashing him a grateful smile. He was a few inches taller than me, about my age, and he had a lean face with dark, soulful eyes. Not bad, not bad at all. “You probably better do what they say.”

  “I will…as soon as I know you can stand without my help.” He didn’t move.

  “It’s these shoes,” I muttered, lifting one foot and leaning on my new friend. Sure enough, one of the spiky heels had snapped, and now it hung on by a mere thread. I contemplated pulling off the entire shoe, but it was stylishly covered with buckles and straps and would take a minute to undo. Since they were screaming for us to sit down, I did the next best thing. I tugged the heel off, tossed it aside, and then lifted my other foot to snap the other heel off, making myself a pair of oddly angled flats. “At least now I can walk.”

  He chuckled and his arm left my side. “All right, then.”

  I hobbled over to the stools and found the one marked ‘Kandis’ on the front row and thumped into my seat. There were a few other contestants already seated, perched silently on their stools. The one I’d met—the cute guy—winked at me from his place in the back row. There were three rows and I counted seats—twelve in all. Four in my row, four behind me, and four in the back. No one else was sitting in the front row but me.

  As other contestants moved through the doors and headed to their chairs, I rubbed at my now-throbbing ankles. Stupid shoes. That was what I got for trying to be sexy on national TV. Now I just looked like a fool. I began to unbuckle the shoes, propping up one foot and keeping busy to cover my embarrassment while the others entered the house. Some people blushed when they got nervous. I got fidgety.

  I undid the jillions of buckles on both shoes and pulled them off and then held them in my hands politely, waiting for the okay to go find a garbage can. I crossed my legs and swung one of my feet anxiously, glancing behind me. Both of the rows in the back were full, but I was the only one on the front row. The three seats next to me were still empty. Curious, I glanced at the names on the seats.

  There were only initials: LB on the far end, KS in the middle, and BS next to me.

  So there were three more contestants. Where were they?

  The lights in the house flickered to get our attention, and for the first time, I paid attention to my surroundings. The house was…interesting. It was very bright inside despite the menacing exterior—no doubt because we were filming in here. Light fixtures had been set in the ceilings. The floor underneath our stools was hardwood, and the walls were a dark, patterned purple. Picture frames lined the walls in several dark colors, but each frame was filled with a two-way mirror or dark glass that I knew shielded a camera on the other side. Each window had been shuttered with old-fashioned coverings since we were supposed to be isolated. There was a large fireplace with a big mantel across the room, a grandfather clock, and lots of old Victorian couches with little wooden legs. At the far end of the big living room, if I craned my neck, I could see a long, wooden dining table surrounded by old fashioned chairs. Very gothic.

  Our stools were facing a very large TV that covered one wall. As of right now, the TV was blank. That would be where the host addressed us, then. I glanced over at the empty stools once more, curious, and shared a shrug with my friend in the back. He didn’t know what was up, either. Well, at least it wasn’t just me.

  The large TV in front of us flashed the House Guests logo, and then cut to a screen. A smiling blonde woman with a huge bouffant of hair beamed at us from the other side.

  “Hello, contestants! My name is Becky Bradley, and I’ll be your House Mother for this season of House Guests! Welcome to the show!”

  We all clapped politely. Someone behind me whistled.

  Becky smiled, clearly unfazed by our enthusiasm. She continued on. “In just a few minutes, we’re going to lock the doors, and this summer’s session of House Guests will begin. Your first week in the house will be a free one. After that, however, you will compete in the Power Play. Whoever wins Power receives their own private room and will nominate two other players for eviction at the end of the week. One by one, you’ll be voted out until only two of you remain. Those last two contestants will go head to head at the end of the summer and compete for the million-dollar prize. Are you excited?”

  We all cheered, myself included. It was hard not to get excited at the thought of a million dollars by the end of the summer.

  “Before we go, though, I have to warn you. Every season of House Guests is full of twists.” Becky’s smile was coy. “This season is no different.”

  I wasn’t surprised. Anyone that watched House Guests knew that the show liked to change things up on people. They had to in order to keep things interesting.

  “In fact, we’re starting out with three twists…” Becky paused dramatically. “And the first one is about to come through the doors. Good luck to you, House Guests!”

  The TV fuzzed out, replaced only by the House Guests logo. I glanced at the three empty stools next to me. It was obvious what the first twist was going to be: more contestants.

  Sure enough, the double doors burst open a moment later. Three people entered, each one holding a yellow envelope labeled with a 1, 2, or 3.

  My jaw dropped.

  They’d said twist, all right. I just hadn’t expected the twist to be famous people. Or rather, these famous people.

  The first one through the door was a hot, sexy rocker guy with dark hair falling over one eye. His arms and neck were covered in tattoos, and he had piercings all over the place. I recognized him instantly — Liam Brogan from Finding Threnody, my favorite band. I knew they’d just broken up last month, too. Oh my god. I fanned myself with excitement. Liam Brogan was here? He was hot. He’d also been on The World Races, which had just finished airing a few weeks ago, and had hooked up with a cute little Southern blonde named Katy.

  Unfortunately for me, the cute little Southern blonde was currently clinging to his hand and following him into the house. I guessed they were still together. That was all right, really. Liam was hot, but with the blonde
, he kind of melted my heart a bit.

  Katy gave us all a nervous smile, stepped a little closer to Liam, and waved with her bright yellow #2 envelope. Then she stepped aside, and the third person moved forward.

  Everyone groaned.

  Brodie Short was the third person. I recognized him from The World Races, too. He was handsome, of course. Tall and blond and tanned. Good looking. He’d also sold his sister out on the very first episode and spent the rest of the show either playing tonsil hockey with Tesla Spooner (the lead singer for Finding Threnody) or screwing over other contestants to claw his way to the top of the heap.

  In short, they’d given us celebrity lovebirds with Katy and Liam and the villain in Brodie. Everyone loved Katy and Liam. Everyone hated Brodie.

  I didn’t want Brodie here, either. I was the one planning on lying and scheming my way to the top this summer. I didn’t want competition. So I couldn’t help the frown on my face as the three of them sat in the stools in the front row next to me. Blond, handsome Brodie sat next to me and flashed me a pearly white grin.

  I glared at him, stone-faced.

  Liam, now seated, turned to the others. He’d let go of Katy’s hand and held up his envelope. “We’re supposed to read these to you guys in order. I’ve got number one.” He gave everyone a faint smile as they cheered and clapped, and then he tore the seal on his envelope and began to read. “To make this summer more fun, we’ve brought in a few contestants you might recognize from another reality TV show. Brodie, Liam, and Katy will all be playing alongside you for the million dollars.”

  We clapped politely, but in my mind, I was sizing up the competition, and I knew the others were doing the same. I glanced to the back row and my friend was smiling, but a little less broadly. I knew what he was thinking. Brodie was a tool, and Katy and Liam had already won a million. They didn’t need another million dollars.

  “All right,” Katy said, and her voice was a soft, almost-shy drawl. “I guess I read mine next.” She tore open her envelope, scanned it, and began to read. “House Guests, your first task will be a competition to determine where everyone sleeps. This summer, our House Guests will be staying in the most haunted plantation in America.”

  Everyone groaned.

  I twirled my foot more rapidly, thinking hard. Hauntings? Seriously? I didn’t believe in ghosts, but this place was rather creepy. Was that the shtick that Jimmy had mentioned? A haunted house?

  Katy continued to read. “This plantation is called The Magnolias. It was built in 1796, and since that time, its history has been tragic. Every single family that has owned this house has met a terrible death. From fire in 1803 to an outbreak of the measles in 1840 to loss in the Civil War. After the Civil War, it changed hands once more, and from there on out, grisly rumors of hauntings and vengeful ghosts began.” Katy looked up from her card and gave Liam a wide-eyed stare. Then she continued reading. “The person that wins the Power Play will stay in the Power Room, which you will find quite luxurious. After that, contestants can either stay in the Mirror Room or the Queen Room. Both rooms have their own particular charm. Contestants that do not fare so well in the competition must stay in the Hanging Room in the attic. No less than three different people have hung themselves in the attic here in The Magnolias over the past century, and rumors are that their ghosts remain still. And since we currently have two extra contestants, those who come in last place this week will sleep on the couches.”

  “I think I’d rather sleep on the couches than in the attic,” someone muttered behind me.

  Katy flipped over the card. “That’s all mine says.” She wrinkled her nose again. “I guess we’re living in a haunted house.”

  Oh great.

  Katy nudged her brother. “Brodie, what does yours say?”

  He grinned and began to tear open his envelope, reading. “Contestants will compete in the Power Play right now. You will all proceed to the backyard of the plantation once you have finished reading this card, and the first Power Play competition will begin. The winner of the Power Play will not only win Power for the week and his or her private room, but they will also win the chance to choose their partner. That’s right, everyone’s playing in partners this season.” He read the dramatic words slowly, a grin spreading across his face. “The person in Power will choose their partner; everyone else will be forced to pair up randomly.” Brodie looked over at me and winked. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and hook up with you, huh?”

  Ugh. I thwacked his arm with one of my now-heel-less shoes, unamused. “Not all of us consider that luck.”

  Brodie simply wiggled his eyebrows at me, as if convinced I’d fall for his charm, and tore his card in half. “That’s all it says. Shall we head to the backyard?”

  “Let’s go!” A woman called behind me, and then everyone was cheering again.

  House Guests had officially started for the summer.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Were the other guests pleased to see me? That’s like asking a hard-partying rock star if she’s pleased to have a hangover. And trust me, I already know the answer to that.” — Brodie Short, Day 1

  The backyard of The Magnolias seemed more like something from a war compound than a TV show. There was a lovely yard, of course, with a tree or two along the edges to give the house some sort of ambiance. There was even a small pool and a hot tub off to one side. I guessed that they still wanted us to wear bikinis despite the haunted house theme. The far end of the yard, though, had been cordoned off with a twenty-foot-high, solid wall topped with barbed wire and cameras. Jeez. I curled my bare toes as we stepped onto the grass and I realized it wasn’t real grass but Astroturf.

  The majority of the backyard had been converted into a challenge area and roped off. A stop sign was planted to one side, and it had a card dangling from a peg that had READ ME FIRST written on the back. As I trailed behind the others, I noticed that Brodie had sprinted toward the sign, and I tried not to roll my eyes. Overachiever. I studied the roped-off challenge area instead.

  The grass had been covered with an enormous, reddish mat, and I could see that stations had been set up in a strategic circle. Big fake vampire heads sat across from each station, mouths gaping open like muppets waiting to be fed. Each station also had a block, and each block was encircled by what looked like a bubbling pool of blood.

  Cute. They were really going all out with this whole ‘horror’ theme.

  Brodie cleared his throat obnoxiously and began to read. “Contestants! Get ready for your first challenge. Your first task as a House Guest will be to feed a very hungry vampire. And what do vampires eat? Blood, of course. Everyone will proceed to a station and wait for the buzzer. Once the buzzer has gone off, you can retrieve your special ‘vampire feeding’ hula hoop from your pool of blood. These hula hoops are specially made so that they fill up with blood when you dunk them. You must dunk your hula hoop, and then hula. When you do, it will spray blood into your waiting vampire’s mouth. Each vampire has a small bag at the base of his throat. The first person to fill up their bag with blood wins Power for the week and the right to choose their partner. Does everyone understand the rules?”

  One girl raised her hand, like we were in class. “Um, is it real blood?” Her voice was high-pitched and whiny.

  Brodie gave her a devilish look that I recognized as flirtation. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?”

  I had to hold back the urge to make a gagging noise. We hadn’t been in the house for five minutes and already the guy had tried to romance me and now this chick. He was so obvious.

  “Do you think they’re really going to have this much real blood for a TV show? Really?” someone else muttered.

  “Why don’t we just head out to our stations already?” Liam said. He grabbed Katy’s hand and pulled her forward, and they went under the cordoned rope, moving out into the challenge area. I followed them and noticed that everyone else did as well.

  I picked a station across from Katy and Liam and s
tepped onto the platform, wiggling my bare feet. I glanced down at the circle surrounding my small square platform. Sure enough, it was full of some thick, viscous red fluid that I suspected was more like dyed corn syrup than blood. Somewhere in that circle was a hula hoop.

  As we waited on the buzzer, I put my hands on the hips of my tight dress and assessed the other contestants. Six guys, six girls. For the guys, there was Brodie and Liam, the nice guy I’d met when I’d tripped, an older man with gray hair, and two others that were about my age. There was an older woman with wild and crazy gray hair, another woman with a short pixie cut that looked like a soccer mom, a gorgeous Hispanic woman, and a tall girl with long, silky red hair that I was pretty sure I recognized from somewhere. Another celebrity? At any rate, I looked like the most athletic of the women, though a few of the men looked like they could be powerhouses. If we had male versus female competitions, I could physically dominate the other women.

  Of course, that wasn’t going to be my strategy at all. I was going to lay low and coast, hopefully hang out somewhere in the middle for the first while. Suss people out, see how things were falling, and then make my move.

  The buzzer sounded.

  We flew into action. I stepped off the platform and sunk my hands into the blood, looking for the hula hoop. Sure enough, the liquid was thick and sticky, and I could hear a few disgusted squeals down the row as other people figured this out. I grasped the hula hoop and hitched it around my hips. My fingers ran along it and I felt a few widely-spaced holes that were even now dribbling the liquid. Once we started ‘hula-ing,’ it’d fling out of the hoop and hopefully into the vampire’s mouth.

  And since I was a Zumba instructor? I could totally rock this challenge. I could win the Power Play, get myself a sweet room to sleep in, and decide who to vote out the first week.

  Annnnd that would paint a huge target on my back from day one. Not my goal. So I pretended to fumble with my hula hoop, and then I began to hula slowly, swinging the hoop around my hips. Sticky ‘blood’ spattered and dribbled down my clothing, and I realized there was a trick—if I hooped slow, the blood didn’t sling out far enough. If you slung the hoop around fast a few times, it would spray the blood far, which I realized when Liam reached one tattooed arm out, slung his hoop around his waist quickly, and then let it drop back to the ground.