(in love)

By Samantha McPhillips

Anyone can find a husband if they sign up for the right reality TV show. The hard part is finding true love. 

 

Love at first sight can't hold together any relationship when the man in question is just not your type as Jack discovers. Her friends want her to be happy, James is looking for love in all the wrong places, and Mykie works on set. If only it were simple to follow your heart with cameras capturing every move.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Samantha McPhillips
• Release date: Sep 18, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201283506

Book preview

Sam McPhillips

(in love)

Copyright © 2021 by Sam McPhillips

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Sam McPhillips asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 1

Jacqueline Richardson looks like she’s going to throw up. She’s sitting in a casting chair with her hands pinned under her thighs, one leg bouncing up and down so forcefully that it’s a surprise it hasn’t come clean off yet. She’s paler than she had been out in the main convention center, when she’d been pulled aside for a quick talking head after signing in, which seems like it should be impossible but somehow isn’t.

Her eyes keep darting around to look at the room - take in its mostly dark aesthetic and the framed photos of other successful couples from seasons past. Every so often, they land on Mykie, who’s supposed to be double checking that all the mics are online, but is too busy being distracted by the fact that Jacqueline Richardson looks like she’s going to throw up.

So, um…w-who…is it exactly that I’m…I’m gonna be talking to? Jacqueline asks.

Lewis, the boom operator, glances over at Mykie and gives her a shrug.

Dr. Sturgeon should be here soon, Mykie attempts. Don’t worry. She’s the nice one. It’s meant to be reassuring, but Jacqueline just looks even more panicked at her words. That’s not to say that…Dr. Cara and Dr. Jarrett are rude or anything, I was just- She trails off, wondering if the other woman’s nervousness is contagious. Would you like some water, Miss Richardson?

Oh…Jack’s fine. Her eyes are still wide with terror, but at least she’s stopped bouncing her leg. And, um…I think I’m okay.

Sure thing, Jack, Mykie says.

She really is supposed to be working. After three seasons with the show, she should probably be better at doing that, but the events of today are unprecedented. Normally, she’s paired off with Dr. Jarrett, but with her whole "conflict of interest" thing, she’d been blindsided by being assigned to Dr. Sturgeon instead.

So now she’s standing in a room with Lewis the Boom Guy and Jack, a woman who is signing herself up to be married to a stranger, and wondering how she got here. How any of them got here.

Especially Jack.

Jack, who has one of the cleanest, brightest smiles Mykie’s ever seen. Whose blue eyes shimmer in the soft fill light. Who held her breath when Mykie hooked up her lavalier, expressing concern that any small movement might make the mic unsteady and likely to fall.

Jack who somehow - miraculously - hasn’t found someone to love her.

It seems impossible, really. And she sort of wants to tell Jack not to do this, even though she’s certainly not encouraged to bad-mouth the show that employs her. It’s just that she can’t imagine how anyone has ever let her slip through her fingers.

Of course, none of that is her business.

Um…what’s your…Sorry. Jack winces at herself when Mykie looks up. Can I ask what your…name is?

God, she’s adorable.

Mykie smiles. Name’s Mykie, she begins to explain, then throws her thumb over her shoulder at Lewis, who waves. That’s Lewis. You’ll be seeing a lot of us if they find you someone.

For the first time since she sat down, Jack unfolds her posture and relaxes her shoulders a little. Yeah? she asks.

Yep.

The door opens then and Dr. Sturgeon comes in, her sister Rina close behind her wielding her Clipboard of Doom. Jack jumps in surprise and then immediately straightens her posture, returning to her nervous leg-bounce.

Jacqueline, it’s so good to meet you, Dr. Sturgeon welcomes, going over to Jack and smiling down at her. Dr. Theodora Sturgeon, but let’s just stick with Theo. Less of a mouthful."

Jack begins to throw a hand out for Dr. Sturgeon to shake, but stops herself when it doesn’t look like it will be returned. Mykie curses under her breath. She hadn’t warned Jack about Theo’s aversion to that sort of thing.

Jack’s fine, Jack corrects her. Nice to meet you, too.

Theo goes to her chair opposite Jack’s and sits down, crossing her legs and folding her hands on her lap. This is my sister, Rina, she introduces, nodding to the woman in question who is currently directing the camera crew that filed in after them. She stops for a moment to throw a quick smile in Jack’s direction. She’s one of our story producers, so she’ll be sitting in with us today.

It’s clear from the way that Jack’s eyes can’t settle in one place for too long that she’s quickly becoming overwhelmed. Okay, she attempts, more of a squeak than a word, really.

Are we almost set? Theo questions, looking at Rina.

Should be, her sister responds, and Theo turns her eyes to Mykie who almost gives her a thumbs up but stops herself when she sees the way Jack is currently biting at her thumbnail.

Just a sec, she interrupts, and weaves her way past the cameras to get to Jack, who she - careful to keep a respectful distance - bends toward, pretending to fiddle with her lapel mic. It’s a lot, I know, she whispers, and Jack’s eyes meet hers. Just focus on Dr. Sturgeon and you’ll be alright. She stands back up and turns to Theo, confirming, All set.

On her way back to her things, Jack mouths a grateful, Thank you, at her and Mykie nods, trying to play it off.

Like she’s done that before for anyone on this show.

Like she’s ever cared to.

Lewis gives her a knowing look and Mykie rolls her eyes at him, going back to her laptop as Rina gives final instructions to the camera crew.

If Jack looks substantially more relaxed, Mykie tells herself it has nothing to do with her.

__________

An hour later, Mykie helps Jack remove her mic while Jack mutters, Did I seem crazy? under her breath.

Mykie laughs and then immediately quiets herself when Rina throws her a confused look. Not all, she comforts. You seemed perfectly sane considering.

She’s got the mic off now and Jack is rebuttoning the middle buttons of her blouse, frowning a little. Considering what? she queries.

Mykie doesn’t even hesitate: Considering you’ve just had a so-called relationship expert digging through your romantic history for the past hour.

Oh, Jack mouths, then laughs a little. Okay. Good. She stands there a moment later, mic-less and clearly trying to string together a proper goodbye.

Finally, Mykie puts her out of her misery. You’re all set, she cheers. Until next time.

She doesn’t really think about how that could be interpreted until Jack is beaming, Here’s hoping, and crossing her left middle finger over her forefinger and shaking her hand a little. She hesitates one second more and then she’s gone, disappearing out the door and into the hotel again.

Mykie stands there, holding her still-warm mic, and finds herself hoping she’ll see Jack again while simultaneously really, really hoping she doesn’t.

__________

My god, do they always ask such specific questions about your sex life?

Max’s tipsy on his second margarita for the night, his legs kicked up on Mykie’s coffee table, holding his swirly straw between his fingers like a kid. Mykie looks at him from where she’s sitting on the floor, nursing the same drink she’s had the whole night. Usually always ready to over-share the details of his life, it had taken Max approximately half his first one to even start talking about his own interview at all . Now, he won’t shut up.

Yeah, Mykie sighs. They do.

Christ, Max swears and then jostles about a little, like he can’t get comfortable. Y’know, Tom actually asked me if I’ve ever had a threesome.

Mykie snorts at that, choking a little on her drink. The sour mix gets in her nose, making her eyes water and she has to cough a little before it goes away. Max points a wavering finger at her.

It’s not funny, he hisses.

Oh, it’s very funny. What did you say?

Max looks at her, eyes blown wide with surprise as he sputters out something that sounds like, What? No! I told him no!

She quirks an eyebrow at him and takes another drink. Funny as it may be, she’s going to need to be a little drunker to discuss her best friend’s sexual history. S’your loss, she concludes.

Max baulks at that. You’re kidding me. Mykie…you haven’t .

She hasn’t, but she remains silent for a long moment, giving him a serious look. Eventually, his look of disgust and vague appreciation is too much and a grin breaks free. No, I haven’t.

I hate you. Max throws a balled-up tissue at her and it bounces off her forehead, landing on the floor. I was afraid for your soul, you know.

The look on your face was pretty great.

You’re a terrible friend. He relaxes again and takes another long drink from his margarita. And you have the worst taste in drinks. What’s a fella’ gotta do to get a nice bourbon around here?

Mykie throws the napkin back at him and it lands in his lap. Fruity drinks are objectively better, she argues.

And you’re objectively a weenie. A weenie for martinis .

This…these aren’t martinis. You know that right? And a weenie? What? Are you five?

He thumbs his nose at her and then laughs at himself.

On the television, a couple is fighting while they’re in a rowboat and Mykie rolls her eyes. The last thing she wants to do is watch work while she’s at home, but Max insisted on streaming the U.S. version of the show when he first came over. He’d spent the entire first episode second-guessing his answers to every question he’d been asked earlier on in the afternoon.

Sure you want that? Mykie asks, nodding to the couple. The woman throws a flip flop at the man’s head and it lands in the lake, bobbing beside them pathetically. Someone throwing a bloody shoe at your head.?

She’s expecting a sardonic reply, but she doesn’t get it. Instead, Max sighs long and heavy and, when she looks at him, he’s staring at the television a little wistfully.

Yeah, he admits. Not the shoe part, of course. He pauses. Unless I deserve it. But the marriage part? Having a partner part? Absolutely. And since someone refuses to marry me…

He grins at her, cheeky and proud. She rolls her eyes, but can’t fight smiling back at him. He’s ridiculous, God she loves him. Preposterous and possibly pathetic, yes, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

You’re still not my type, she winks and he cackles.

S’too bad, he sniffs. But…if I can’t have you, then I guess a stranger will do. He finishes off his drink and then shakes it in the air. I need more of this, he announces.

I thought you hated it.

Well, I do. But since it’s all you have in your flat, I’m willing to compromise.

Mykie gets to her feet, setting her own almost-empty glass down and takes the cup from him, tussling his hair on her way to the kitchen. He sighs happily, already looking half-asleep, and keeps his eyes trained on the television.

In the kitchen, she leans against the counter and lets herself consider the possibilities for the first time since Max applied to the whole thing. She’d tried to talk him out of it so many times - told him horror stories of seasons past for couples that didn’t work out, cited all of his good qualities that were worthy of someone, anyone - but he’d been insistent.

It’s not that he hasn’t expressed interest in marriage in the past. Two years ago, he’d almost proposed to a woman who’d been cheating on him for almost a year. But part of her can’t help but worry that his mother’s death is what spurred him on to make such a drastic decision.

More than anything, she’s hoping they don’t find him a match, even if guilt roils in her stomach at the thought. People like Max, she thinks, deserve to find love on their own.

People like Max and like Jack.

At the thought of the woman, Mykie shakes herself out of her thoughts and quickly fills a clean glass with water from the tap, popping Max’s swirly straw in it for good measure. In the living room, she hands it over and watches as he takes a long pull and then immediately frowns.

Waiter, I didn’t ask for this, he slurs sleepily.

I’ve sixty-nined the margaritas for the night, she tells him and then Max is spitting his water out, spraying her coffee table with it. Jesus! Max, what the hell?

It’s eighty-six! he tells her, all the way awake again. He’s laughing so hard she’s a little afraid he might choke or pass out. She pats him firmly on the back in an effort to help clear his lungs.

What?

When you…when you run out of something, he explains, it’s eighty-six.

Oh. She can feel herself blushing already, embarrassment tightening in her throat. Right. Always thought that sounded a wee bit off.

Sixty-nine! Max bellows again, losing himself to another fit of laughter that takes him a good five minutes to fall out of.

Once he’s calmed down a little, he lies back on the couch, stretching out and resting his feet on the armrest opposite his head. Mykie grabs a blanket from the armchair in the corner and throws it over his body, then sits on the floor in front of him.

The couple is kissing now and explaining why they wanted to get married at first sight. This is about the tenth time, by her count, that they’ve explained it in the last half-an-hour. She hates that phrase, hates the repetitiveness of it. She can’t even fathom how many times she’s recorded people saying exactly that. And, with the new season having already begun, she won’t be free of it any time soon.

What if she doesn’t like me? Max asks, and he sounds so worried about it that Mykie bites her tongue.

She doesn’t tell him that the odds of them finding a suitable enough match to pick him are already pretty slim. That won’t help anything. She’s already prepared for that, anyway - has already been looking at singles’ events in the city that she’d grin and bear if it meant she could be his wingman. She’ll find him someone good enough for him if it kills her. He deserves that.

But, for now, she just suggests: Then I’ll knock her silly.

Max snorts into the throw pillow he’s got under his head. I’m sure that’ll really make me a hit.

Mykie freezes. Sighs. Says, Speaking of, and then reaches back to lightly punch him in the ribs.

Hey, he squeals, squirming away. I’m delicate.

’Course you are.

They’re silent for a while as Max slowly starts to drift to sleep. Mykie sits there, watching two people on the screen who can’t seem to stop fighting one another long enough to fall in love, and thinks about Max in that position. Standing at the end of an aisle in a tuxedo, no idea who’s coming out to meet him in a wedding dress.

In an instant, the image changes and she’s suddenly imagining Jack in the same position, though she’s not exactly sure why. She pinches her leg and shakes her head to clear it.

God save her if the two of them end up together. Mykie’s not sure why the thought of that makes her feel like she can’t get enough air. She chalks it up to her worry over her best friend and tries to leave it at that.

She’ll love you, she whispers to Max.

Yeah? he mumbles back.

Sure. She leans her head back against his arm and closes her eyes. What’s not to love?

__________

Jack is sitting on her front porch when the vans pull up. She’s wearing more casual clothes than she had been for her interview, and there’s something about the sight of her in a pine green knit sweater that makes it hard for Mykie to stop looking at her.

She’s so distracted by it that she accidentally forgets to clip Tori Jarrett’s mic to the collar of her shirt and it lands on her shoulder. Fortunately, Tori’s kind, if a little too bright for Mykie to be around for too long. She just smiles and pats Mykie on the arm saying, No trouble, dear, before heading away.

Thankfully, Rina isn’t here to breathe down Mykie’s neck for the whole thing.

Hi again, Jack gushes as Mykie approaches her slowly, holding a mic pack in her hands.

Hey, Mykie greets. Nice to see you.

You, too. She takes a step down the stairs of her porch so she’s closer and then darts her eyes around to the camera crew and scattered others shuffling around her yard. The home visit, she begins, eyes finally settling on Mykie again. That’s a good thing?

Even three years in, Mykie isn’t exactly certain how the experts go through the process of narrowing down the search. She only sees that which ends up in the show, and it’s not much past the discussion where they make the final decisions once interviews are done. But she does know that, of the thirty or so women she filmed being interviewed the same day as Jack, Jack is one of only three they’re visiting from Theo’s batch.

I reckon, she answers, hoping that’s enough. Or they just want permission to snoop through your things on television.

Oh, God, Jack exhales with a little laugh. I hope not.

Mykie shakes her head. You’ll be fine. Can I…? She holds up the mic back and Jack steps down even further so they’re the same height. She turns obediently and lifts up the back of her sweater, leaving Mykie to try and keep her on her mic only as she turns it on and tucks it into Jack’s belt.

She let’s Jack thread the wire through her shirt, fixing her gaze on a patch of grass nearby while she waits. After, she clips the mic to Jack’s collar, trying not to overthink the way Jack’s eyes roam over her face. They’re a little too close for comfort, but, somehow, she doesn’t feel any better about the whole thing when she backs away. She wonders how many steps she’d have to take away from Jack in order to feel normal again.

Part of her is worried there would never be enough.

So, Jarrett Productions, huh? she asks, trying to make idle conversation. With the way the camera crew is run, it’ll be a little while before anyone is ready for actual filming. What brought you here?

Um, the cost of living, actually, Jack tells her. Only thirty minutes from the city, too, so—

Right, you’re a school teacher, Mykie says, remembering her answer to Theo’s question three days before.

For some reason, Jack seems surprised by this. Yeah, she utters. You remembered.

Mykie can’t decide what’s more heartbreaking - the expression on Jack’s face that seems to say she’s not used to people remembering things she’s said or the way the awe in her voice has made hope begin to unfurl in her own chest.

She bites the inside of her cheek, tells herself to get a grip. How is it that she’s only meeting this girl for the second time and she’s already walking such a dangerous line?

Mykie! someone calls from the vans. It’s Lewis, waving her over.

I should… she says, nodding her head in his direction.

Right, Jack falters with a smile that makes Mykie’s heart flip. Sorry for keeping you.

No, don’t be. Really.

If Jack watches her walk away, Mykie doesn’t look back to see it.

__________

Her house is filled with light - walls painted in pale pastels, shaggy gray carpeting lining the living room floor. There are paintings up on the walls that look like they were bought from somewhere that mass produced them and she has DVD’s lining the shelves of her entertainment center. A blanket thrown over the back of her navy blue sofa. A couple of pairs of trainers lined up perfectly beside the door.

Tori makes her way around, asking questions as Jack trails after her, Lewis and one of the camera guys close behind. Mykie lingers in the living room, looking over the bookshelf and the records by the record player. She has a copy of The Sound of Music set up next to her DVD player and Mykie can’t help but be charmed by that fact.

Most of what Jack owns are classic novels - plenty of Jane Austen and Dickens - but there’s Virginia Woolf scattered in there and even a couple Sarah Waters novels.

Mykie tries not to read into that too much.

Jack is, after all, vying for a position in a reality TV show where she’ll wind up marrying a man she’s never met.

Key word: man.

Mykie makes herself repeat that word over and over as she stands there, listening to Tori and Jack laughing in the kitchen. For reasons she refuses to name, it won’t quite sink in.

__________

They manage to wrap up after about an hour, and Jack visibly relaxes when Tori finally leaves her house.

You know that thing where kids sometimes set ants on fire with a magnifying glass? she rambles as Mykie helps her with her mic. That’s what that was like.

You’d know a lot about kids, wouldn’t you, Sister Maria? Mykie quips and when Jack looks confused, she nods over to her television where the DVD is.

Oh, Jack laughs, blushing prettily. It’s a good movie.

Mykie smirks. Never said it wasn’t.

Jack fixes her with the cutest glare Mykie’s ever seen. You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?

I would never, Mykie reassures.

Jack scoffs and bumps her in the shoulder with a closed fist. Mykie laughs all the way to the van.

__________

The next day finds her back at Jack’s place, this time with Rina calling the shots.

Literally.

She orders the camera guys around, resetting them half a dozen times until she feels she’s got the perfect angle to shoot Jack coming in her own front door from work. Jack looks exhausted before they even begin and Mykie has to bite her tongue every time Rina adjusts her hair or clothes.

How many times are we going to have to do this shot? she questions Mykie as she readjusts herself on her patio furniture, a book open in her lap. It’s not like I’m actually reading this right now.

She flaps the book a little. Mykie thinks it might be Tipping the Velvet, but she can’t be sure and doesn’t want to guess. Doesn’t think her poor heart can take much more wishful thinking.

She gets like this, Mykie tells her softly. She’s standing on the grass below the porch, resting her arm on the wooden edge, her chin on her arm. Jack is seated above her and the angle is odd, but somehow endearing. Just…try to look cute and lovelorn and we’ll be out of your hair soon.

Jack considers this for a moment and then adopts a silly expression, pouting her lips and fluttering her eyelashes with a tilt of her head. How’s this? she asks.

Mykie laughs loud enough to catch Rina’s attention and she gives the older woman an apologetic smile. Eventually, Rina goes back to whatever it is she’s scribbling on her clipboard. Mykie turns back to Jack. You look perfect, she states.

Yeah? Jack wonders, biting her lip to rein in her smile.

Mykie nods. Doesn’t even hesitate. Yeah. Perfect.

They manage to get it in the next take and Mykie tries not to feel like she played a hand in that. Even if Jack looks calmer, seems more at-ease. It has nothing to do with their conversation, Mykie tells herself.

Thinking it might be unprofessional. Really, she’s asking for trouble, isn’t she?

__________

Why didn’t you warn me that they were going to be poking through my things? Max groans the moment he comes out of the kitchen carrying her food. He’s very clearly trying to look like he means business, but it’s hard to take him seriously when he’s got his sous chef hat on.

Usually the host brings the food out, y’know, she scolds, trying not to laugh.

Tom came ’round today for the at-home and insisted on getting a tour, he explains. Got a good look at my briefs and then questioned my taste in movies.

You own two copies of Ghost Rider , Mykie reminds him. What did you expect?

Max sighs. Would you like to know the best vitamin friendship, Mykie?

Mykie groans, already knowing where this is going. No. Absolutely not.

B-1.

He looks so goddamned pleased with himself.

I’m gonna hit you. She reaches for the bag of her takeaway that she ordered - via a quick-fire text to him - but he holds it up out of reach.

Always so violent, he admonishes, but he finally lets her have it. As she takes it, his expression grows serious. Is the home visit a good thing, then? he asks.

There’s that question again.

She wants to ask him how he might define good, but knows how bitter that would come across.

Yes, she spits. It’s good. Can I go home?

Sure, sure, he mumbles, waving her off. That’s some of my best work by the way, he states, pointing at the bag in her hands. Very proud of that cod.

Congratulations, Mykie tells him, rolling her eyes. Always good to know your worth.

She turns to leave, too bone-weary to handle much more of this. On her way out, she hears him yell, I really appreciate our friend-chip!

She resists the urge to flip him off and settles for letting the door to the restaurant swing shut a little too hard.

__________

Standing in a bright room listening to three people discuss the merits of making two people get married for hours is a special brand of torture. It’s made even more special by the dirty looks Rina throws her way every time Mykie has the audacity to look bored.

She’s been sitting in the corner, monitoring the mics, for so long that she’s fairly certain her left leg is asleep. When she tries to change her posture to wake it up, Rina actually shushes her.

Sorry, Mykie whispers, though she’s not exactly feeling apologetic.

Rina shushes her again, pointer finger in front of her lips and everything. When she turns her head, Mykie sticks her tongue out at her.

She’s not particularly proud of it.

Let me just bring up someone who I really liked: Jack, Theo is saying from her chair in the center of the room. Mykie kind of hates herself for perking up at the name drop.

I love Jack, Tori responds. She was very sweet and warm and compassionate. A little nervous, but I got the sense from her that it was because she’s not used to opening up to other people. I thought she was remarkable.

Mykie breathes in deeply, looking between all three experts, trying to gauge where this is going, but she already knows. That endless plummeting feeling in her chest knows too.

What about Fraser and Jack? Tom tries. Fraser is really driven and personable. He seemed to also have some stuff in his background that has kept him from really…connecting in the past. And he really has this zest for life that I think might help bring Jack out of her shell a little.

Fraser. Mykie tries to remember what he looks like, but he’s mostly been seeing Tom and Charlotte, which means he falls under someone else’s jurisdiction. The three crews do work together at times, but, because they spend so many long hours following the couples around, it’s not unusual for many of them to only see the others when they’re doing group dates. Vaguely, she recalls someone tall, fair-haired, handsome enough for women to swoon.

Her pulse hiccups a little when she tries to imagine Jack with him.

It’s not that I don’t like that match, or that I don’t like Fraser, Tori cuts in. I do. He seems like such a…unique and engaging person. I just worry that he might find Jack to be a little reserved. He expressed a lot of interest in travel and seems very worldly and-

Well, Jack’s- Tom starts.

-American, Tori cuts in. I know. But I worry they’ll have trouble connecting on just that basic social level, and they might wind up closing themselves off if that happens.

What about James Crilly? Theo suggests, and Mykie immediately knows who she means. He and Jack have similar backgrounds and goals. He’s a little better at expressing himself, I think, and he might be able to help Jack open up a little.

This settles on the air for a little while. Mykie remembers James - the graduate student from Canada whose flat had been the size of her living room and twice as messy. She remembers his messy, brown curls and the way they fell into his eyes - his dark-framed glasses and bright smile. She tries to imagine him standing at the end of the aisle, Jack coming towards her, and she can only manage it for a moment before she has to stop.

I think they could be a really good fit, Theo declares. I like them together a lot.

The other two nod and Rina scribbles frantically on her clipboard and well-

That’s that, then.

__________

After what feels like forever, the other couples are decided upon, and Max is one of them.

At first, Mykie’s pretty certain she’s fallen asleep and is dreaming, but they keep saying his name, over and over again. Saying the name "Emily," too, which she can’t quite place with anyone in particular. There had been so many Emily’s.

They match Fraser with a woman named Rebecca and everyone seems so pleased with these choices, but Mykie can’t feel anything but acute apprehension.

Not just about Max, but everything.

All of it.

__________

James meets them on the campus grounds of Edgewater University, grinning wide and happy and looking like he wants to hug Theo in greeting. He doesn’t, thank God. Instead, he stands there with his bag slung over his shoulder, hands stuffed into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his heels while they set up the shot and Mykie gets him hooked up.

And then they film the whole thing like he just randomly happened to have stumbled upon the cameras while walking to class.

Dr. Sturgeon, hi, he greets, hands going right back into his pockets as he comes to a stand-still right in front of her.

James, good to see you, Theo retorts.

Great to see you, too.

He’s handsome. Cheek dimples and all. Mykie looks over his face, wondering what Jack will make of him when she finally sees him. While he’s certainly not Mykie’s type, he seems like a good enough guy. Winning smile and all. He’s got a calm air about him, which is a far cry from the energy she’d felt radiating off Fraser Walker the one time she’d met him.

Maybe they’ll be a good match.

I wanted to run something by you really quick, if that’s alright, Theo begins. James nods dutifully, waiting nervously. You might want to know that…you’re getting married. In two weeks.

Everything stops for a moment. Cars rumble past in the distance. People talk in the quad just up ahead. The wind blows through the grass and the trees. But James stands perfectly still, almost frozen, as the news washes over him.

Wait, he drawls. Really?

Theo nods. Really. We found you a match.

He laughs, this relieved thing, tossing his head back a little. Oh my god, he explodes. You’re serious?

Another nods. She exists.

Those words stick in Mykie’s mind as she stands there, just off camera, watching James bounce up and down on his heels excitedly, firing endless questions at Theo. He uses his hands a lot when he’s loosening up, gesturing with every word he says. He keeps running one of them through his hair like he’s still trying to believe what he’s just been told.

Mykie realises that she is, too.

She exists, she thinks.

Does she ever.

__________

They ambush Jack as she’s leaving the primary school she teaches at. There are a couple of children playing in the playground, a few other teachers walking nearby, and they all stop to gawk at the cameras. In the end, it won’t matter. Their faces will be blurred out eventually anyway.

She looks more than a little surprised to see them and Mykie can’t really blame her for that. It’s not every day that you’re trying to go home and wind up staring down two different cameras and a handful of other people.

It’s not her job and it’s probably crossing a dozen lines that she really shouldn’t - if not for her job then for herself and her own sanity - but she hurries out of the van she’s in as casually as she can manage and heads toward her.

Wow, Jack breathes as she approaches. You’re all…here. Where I work.

Mykie winces. Yeah, sorry about that, Sister. I think Mike tried to call you a few times. As she speaks, she turns around to look at Mike, the showrunner, who is talking adamantly to Theo as he gets out of