by Lisa Suzanne
“We need you,” Rascal yells over Adam.
I hear her sigh, and then she says, “Fine. Give me twenty minutes.”
During the twenty-minute wait, we each write down a variety of challenges in secret. Mine span from drinking games to simple poker rounds to physical challenges. We each add around five ideas to the hat, and when Kylie walks in, she looks like a fucking angel.
“What the hell is this about?” she demands, and I can’t help my laugh.
“Kane and I are disagreeing on the set list,” I say, “so Brody came up with a game. The winner gets to decide.”
Brody reviews the rules. “We pick a random challenge from this hat. Whoever wins is safe for that round, and then we vote someone off the island. Another challenge, another person is safe, another vote. The first three kicked off choose the winner from the final two after they give speeches convincing us to choose them.”
“What if the final two are in agreement?” Kylie asks.
I laugh. It’s a valid question and we’re a bunch of idiots for not even considering it. “Then you get to choose the winner’s prize,” I suggest.
Kylie’s hand goes to her chest in surprise. “Me?”
I nod, and goddamn I hope I’m the winner and she chooses to sleep in my bed tonight.
Wait.
Scratch that.
It’s Kylie. No Bang Oath. Blah blah blah. I can’t sleep with her. I repeat it in my head a few times like a mantra.
“Okay,” she hedges. She nods. “All right. Let’s do this.”
Brody hands her the hat with the challenges.
“Welcome to Survivor. I’m your host, Kylie Marshall, coming at you live from the living room of MFB. Our five contestants are eager to get this contest started tonight, and we’re all wondering the same thing...who will emerge victorious? Let’s—”
“Can we just fucking start?” Rascal whines.
Kylie shoots him a pointed look. “As the host, I cannot sway the votes...but don’t keep that guy around too long,” she says conspiratorially as she jerks her thumb toward Rascal.
He shoots her a dirty look, and she laughs.
“Wait!” Brody yells, and we all look at him. “Beer mile tomorrow night for whoever gets kicked off first.”
“Fuck. Yes,” I say, and Kane and Adam nod. Rascal rolls his eyes, mostly because he knows he’s the one who’s going to have to do it.
“Beer mile?” Kylie asks.
“Four laps around a track, chug a beer between each lap,” I explain. “It’s a real thing. Look it up.”
She rolls her eyes. “Men are idiots.”
I glance around at my best friends in the world. Except for Rascal, they’re all nodding in agreement with Brody’s beer mile suggestion, and so it’s decided. A brief concern of what might change once this show gets rolling flashes through my mind. I don’t honestly believe anything will change personally for us, but if this brings the sort of attention Kylie thinks it could, we might not be able to just hop the fence at the local high school and use the track after hours for the punishment of a beer mile anymore.
“For our first challenge,” Kylie says, pulling a slip of paper out of the hat, “we have a physical challenge. Whoever can do twenty-five push-ups first is safe. I’ll be the judge of your push-ups, and I expect nose to the floor and flat backs. Yell out your number as you go so I can verify.” She’s back to being a drill sergeant, and I refuse to find it hot.
I do, however, think I have this challenge in the bag. Brody, Kane, and I are the only ones who regularly work out, plus I have the added benefit of a variety of sexual positions that have built my upper body strength.
We all get down on the floor into position, and Kylie yells, “Go!”
“One! Two! Three!” I yell, and I hear numbers echoed all around me.
“Rascal, you can’t do girl push-ups on your knees,” Kylie says. “That’s cheating. Disqualified!”
Brody gives me a run for my money, but Kane is a few behind us. In the end, my nose touches the floor on the final push-up about a second before Brody.
“And the winner is Dax Hunter!”
I stand and cheer for myself.
“Dax, you’re safe. The rest of you will need to vote someone off.”
I run to the kitchen to grab another beer, and while I’m there, I grab a bowl to put the votes in.
“Don’t we get to give a speech or something?” Rascal asks.
Brody shakes his head. “Nah, man. On the show, Jeff asks the questions. No speeches. Let’s get on with this shit.”
Kylie dramatically reads the votes, and Rascal is out first unanimously. Even he is completely unsurprised.
“Fuck all of you,” he says, and then he heads upstairs as we all laugh at the thought of Rascal having to do another beer mile. The last one didn’t end well.
“You need to come back for the final vote!” Brody yells after him.
We all hear his mumbled curse back, and then Kylie says, “We’re down to the final four.” She reaches into the hat and pulls out another challenge. Her eyes fall to me, so I can tell it’s one of mine. “This is a simple game of luck. One round of Texas Hold’em, winner takes all.”
Brody grabs a deck of cards from the kitchen cabinet where we keep them along with the poker chips. He hands the cards to Kylie, and we all take a seat at the kitchen table while he hands us some chips. She attempts to shuffle the cards, but she basically looks like a child doing it.
“Here,” I say, and I reach out to take them. She hands me the deck and when our fingers brush, a pulse of electricity I’m not expecting passes between us. I can’t help but notice how these little moments are beginning to stack up. They’re starting to mean something to me when they didn’t before.
I expertly shuffle the cards. Usually on nights like tonight, we sit around playing poker. It’s one of my favorite pastimes, and I even perfected the one-handed shuffle.
It’s not as dirty as it sounds.
Kylie’s jaw drops just slightly, and I feel a punch of pride that she’s impressed with something as dumb as card shuffling skills. I hand the deck back to her.
“How does this work?” she asks.
“God, you’re such a girl,” Brody says, like that’s a bad thing.
I laugh. “Deal us each two cards.”
She does, and then Kane opens the betting.
I check my cards. I have a two and a four not suited, so I’m basically fucked. I refuse to bow out, though.
She deals the flop, which is the first three cards, and we bet. Next, she deals the turn card followed by another bet, and then the river card, and we bet a final time. Adam folds, but the rest of us are in.
Kane wins with a pair of queens.
“It’s time for the vote,” Kylie says.
We all write down a name, and this time, Kylie takes her time reading the votes.
“Dax,” she reads. I glare at Adam because I know it was him. “Adam,” she reads. That must be my vote. I glance at Brody, and he’s staring at Kylie, which tells me he doesn’t want to give anything away. “The second person voted out of MFB Survivor is Adam. Take a moment, say your goodbyes.”
“I think you’re mixing your reality show castoff speeches,” Brody mutters, and I laugh.
Adam doesn’t sulk the way Rascal did. Instead, he drinks. He even mixes up a margarita for our show hostess, and he brings us each another bottle of beer. I’m starting to feel pretty damn good.
“The challenge for round three is a drinking challenge,” Kylie announces after pulling a paper from the hat. “Whoever chugs a beer the fastest wins.”
I laugh as Adam heads back to the fridge to get us each a fresh can of beer. Can chugging goes down smoother than bottle chugging and I have no idea why.
“Fucking Rascal,” Brody mutters. “You know it was his dumbass who wrote that one.”
I laugh. Brody’s just jealous because based on historical data, he knows he can’t beat me in a chug challenge.
> I’m sure he doesn’t really care about the setlist, so I wonder why he’s trying so hard. Maybe because he wants me to have my way. Because that’s what bros do.
Once we all have our cans in hand, Kylie yells, “One, two, three, GO!”
We all pop the tabs at the same time and I allow the amber liquid to slide down my throat in a practiced manner. This isn’t the first time any of us has done this.
I finish first, naturally, and I crush the can in my hand as a show of masculinity.
“Dax wins!” Kylie says, and it could be the beer talking, but she seems much more invested in this contest than she did when she first arrived. “That means he’s safe this round, and since only Brody and Kane remain and will cancel out each other’s vote, that means Dax chooses who he will compete against in the final round.”
“Brody, obviously,” I say, and Kane rolls his eyes with a snort.
“Of course he fucking picks Brody. You always get your way, Dax, don’t you?”
Brody rolls his eyes. “He won fair and square. Man up and chug faster next time if you want to win.”
Kane sighs resignedly, but he’s out and maybe he’s right. I always get my way.
“Kane, don’t be a child. Take your seat beside Adam,” Kylie says, and he follows her instructions.
“The final two are Dax and Brody.” She turns toward the stairs. “Rascal! Get down here!”
He skips down the steps a minute later.
“It’s now time for the final votes. You’ll each have the chance to convince the jury of your peers that you voted off why they should keep you. Brody, you’ll go first.”
He stands and looks over at Rascal, Kane, and Adam who sit on the couch across from us. He clears his throat. “None of us want to see this asshole win, do we?” He jerks his thumb toward me, and I laugh as he sits.
“That’s your whole speech?” I ask.
He shrugs.
“Dax, go ahead,” Kylie says.
I stand and face my jury, and even though I feel a little unsteady on my feet and they’re a bit of a blur, I force my thoughts into something cohesive. “Please choose me as the winner. As you can all agree, the majority of our setlists over time have been by my design. I care a lot about the success of this band and of this tour, and as you know, I have strong feelings about why we need to do things a certain way.”
“You have strong feelings about everything,” Kane grumbles.
Kylie shoots Kane a look. “Do any of the jury members have questions for the final two contestants?” she asks.
They shake their heads.
“Then you may vote. The name you write down will be the winner tonight, not the loser.”
Kane, Adam, and Rascal each write a name and stick it in the hat. Kylie removes them one by one. “The first vote is for Brody!”
He does a little happy dance in place.
“The next vote is for Dax!”
I mimic Brody’s dance.
“And our sole survivor tonight is...” she pauses dramatically as she reads the slip of paper. “Brody.”
He stands up and cheers like this is the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and I try not to sulk. I wanted to win even though it’s a stupid competition between buddies and is basically meaningless in the context of life.
I just feel like I’ll never live down the fact that I lost to Brody...that I wasn’t the final man standing.
“Congratulations, man,” I say, slapping him on the back good-naturedly.
“Thank you,” he says. “I’d like to thank all the little people like Rascal as well as the normal-sized people who voted for me.”
“I didn’t vote for you,” Rascal protests, and I laugh. Well, at least I know who gave me my one vote.
“So Brody decides,” Kane says, back to business even though I can tell through my own drunken haze that he’s a little toasted himself. “What are you thinking?”
“I’ll do whatever Dax wants. It’s only fair since he was in the final two with me.”
Kane rolls his eyes. “What a fucking colossal waste of time this has been.”
Brody looks at me and shrugs. “I had fun.”
I shrug back at him. “I got what I wanted.”
“And Rascal has to do a beer mile tomorrow,” Brody says.
We both laugh, and Kylie grabs her purse and starts toward the door. “Thank you for participating in this competition, and thank you for pulling me away from my one night away from you nerds where I was planning to lie in bed and catch up on all the new romcoms on Netflix. I’ll be heading home now.”
I think about her lying in bed with romcoms, and I wish I was going, too.
“We have Netflix,” I say before I get the chance to censor myself. “And you’ve been drinking. Just stay here.”
I feel Kane’s eyes move over toward me, but I ignore it. He’s probably the only one in this room who might pick up on my intentions being anything less than pure.
I only said it because I’m a little drunk and more than a little horny. Beer does that to me sometimes.
All the time.
Shit, breathing does that to me.
“I only had one, but thanks for the offer,” she says. “Congrats on the big win, Brody. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
With that, she disappears out the door, and I can’t help the stab of disappointment I feel.
7
I finally get around to reading the profiles the next afternoon after my hangover has worn off. If I’m supposed to get to know the girls before we start filming, it’s time to start memorizing some facts. I flip open the folder and read the letter in front.
To: Dax Hunter
From: Take My Heart Producers
RE: The Women’s Profiles
Dax,
The following pages contain information and photos of each of the ten women participating in this social experiment. The information was provided by each woman, so bear in mind that what you are reading shows you how each woman perceives herself. At the top of each profile you will find a headshot. At the bottom of each profile you will find notes from the producers including “notables” and “quotables” – that is, noteworthy information about each woman and our favorite quote(s) from the interviews. These notes are meant to give you feedback as to how we believe America will perceive each “character.” On any reality dating show, certain stereotypes emerge, and we believe we’ve chosen an array of women that both fit and dispute these stereotypes.
As you read through the profiles, we recommend you give each girl a fair chance. Take note of those who you find yourself most attracted to, but our hope is that you will be open to a possible relationship with any of these women.
All four men who have been chosen to appear on the show will receive the same information about the women ahead of time. The women, however, will not receive any information about the men.
Should one of these women drop out at the last minute, we do have alternates available and will send you their profiles if the situation arises.
If you have any questions, feel free to contact us.
Sincerely,
Take My Heart Production Staff
Shayna Sterling, Chris Pepper, Jarrod Craig, Dana Hansen, Keith Loren, Jacky Miller, and Paul Mason
Woman 1.
Name: Nicole
Age: 23
Hometown: Blue Springs, Nebraska
Occupation: Kindergarten Teacher
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Blonde
Education: College Degree, Working on Master’s Degree
Children: None
Hobbies: Country Line Dancing
Greatest Flaw: I eat too much candy
Best Quality: Kindness
Greatest Accomplishment: Mission trip to Ecuador
Greatest Disappointment: Losing my mother to cancer
Additional Notes from Producers: Fits the stereotype of The Sweet One.
Notables: All the women in the house will want to be fr
iends with her, and the men will want to marry her. She’s a wholesome country girl with good values but may be too rural to make it the distance with a celebrity in the spotlight.
Quotables: “My favorite thing about teaching? Definitely watching a child learn how to read.”
Woman 2.
Name: Amber
Age: 25
Hometown: New York, NY
Occupation: Bartender
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Auburn
Education: Associate’s Degree
Children: None
Hobbies: Drinking, watching sports
Greatest Flaw: Stubborn
Best Quality: I make a mean dry martini
Greatest Accomplishment: Bartender of the Year Award
Greatest Disappointment: The time I followed the crowd against my better judgment and it turned out badly
Additional Notes from Producers: Fits the stereotype of The Drama Queen.
Notables: She’s fun and sassy, but she is also self-absorbed and overbearing. She would easily be able to handle being in the spotlight…in fact, she thinks she’s already in it.
Quotables: (when she thought the cameras were off) “Will the other girls be uglier than me?”
Woman 3.
Name: Amanda
Age: 29
Hometown: Des Moines, IA
Occupation: RN
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Blonde
Education: Bachelor’s
Children: one four-year-old boy, one two-year-old boy
Hobbies: playing with my kids, shopping
Greatest Flaw: I’m a people-pleaser
Best Quality: I’m a mom
Greatest Accomplishment: my kids
Greatest Disappointment: my divorce
Additional Notes from Producers: Fits the stereotype of The Mom.
Notables: She’s very upfront when it comes to her kids, yet she’s leaving them for five weeks to film a television show. She clearly wants a father for her kids in the end.