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Love in the Spotlight Page 5
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“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Ronan whispers to me. “We need to find a light. There will be one somewhere.”
Who knew that counter pressure is exactly what you need during a panic attack? Having Ronan’s arms wrapping around my body and squeezing to the point I think my lungs might expel every last breath, is oddly comforting. He loosens his grip a little and I gasp. A flood of wonderful––albeit musty––air fills my lungs and a rush of relief relaxes my body.
“Light. That would be nice, I really hate the––”
“––dark, I know Mel,” Ronan interjects. Then it hits me. A boyfriend would already know I’m afraid of the dark. He played that one well.
“Feel around, a light switch maybe, or a torch…”
A torch. Visions come back of Ronan’s phone shining in my face, sitting behind his belt buckle. I snigger at the thought.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I whisper, reaching out in front of me.
“Wait, I think I feel something…” I say slowly, padding something hard.
“No, that’s me,” Ronan says with a laugh. I drop my hands, about to blabber my apologies when Ronan continues, “Babe, how could you not recognise the shape of my elbow in the dark?”
We both chuckle to ourselves.
It’s true when they say laughter is the best medicine. It seems like the darkness has lifted a little and suddenly I can make out Ronan’s silhouette.
“Here we go,” he says and a flash of red light floods the pod. A small lightbulb hanging from the ceiling swings side to side, illuminating Ronan’s grinning face as he stands facing me with his broad arms folded.
“Don’t get too proud of yourself,” I say with a smirk. “We’re not out of here yet.”
The light changes to blue, then yellow, now green. The lightbulb cycles through the four colours every few seconds. That will get annoying fast, but for now I’m just relieved we’re not stuck in the dark.
Ronan unfolds his arms and studies the long desk beside us. Meanwhile, I turn around and study the door.
“We need to find a four-digit code,” I say, tapping on an electronic pad with my index finger. Ronan nods and rubs his jaw while studying a large grid on the wall. I sidle closer to him to get a better look.
“What do you think these numbers mean?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I reply with a shrug.
Ronan and I forage around the pod, looking for clues, engrossed in the task at hand. And funnily enough, that task is not faking a relationship. We’re working together as a team, totally forgetting we’re even on camera. He brushes his hand across my back as we switch places and he looks at the lock on the door. Minutes roll by and neither of us have any ideas. The table is mostly barren, with only a plain sheet of paper sitting atop. The numbers on the wall so faint, it’s difficult to read.
“Ten minutes of oxygen remaining,” a robotic voice makes me jump. Ronan mutters something inaudible and I fall to my knees to find a clue. Any clue. Twenty minutes into the challenge and all we’ve achieved is finding the light switch and working out we need to find a four-digit code.
I wonder if you can get sent off the show for being too boring? Ronan joins me on the floor and grimaces. Has he given up as well?
“Hey, are you alright? You look blue.” It’s a weak attempt at a joke, but Ronan’s face breaks into a smile. He literally looks blue, everything does. I look up at the light bulb just as it changes to yellow. “Those colours… they mean something.”
Ronan leans forward and bangs against one of the table legs.
“What are you doing?” I say, startled by this apparent sign of aggression. Now is not the time to break things. That’s what we do when there’s sixty seconds remaining.
“Look,” Ronan says, as the table jolts to the side. He retrieves a small wooden box and shows it to me.
“Where did you find that?” I say breathlessly, taking the box. Ronan wobbles the table, one leg is an inch shorter than the rest now.
“I know what this is,” I say, jumping to my feet. I edge closer to the light to look at the markings.
“Me too. It’s a Chinese puzzle box.” Ronan follows me and tries to take it back, but I hold up my hand.
“Oh no, leave it to me.” I clear my throat dramatically while Ronan folds his arms and looks at me with amusement.
“Do you have a secret hobby I don’t know about? Since when did you become a Chinese puzzle expert?”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” I shoot back. That was probably the wrong thing to say considering the viewers will watch this later. But there’s no time to rescue it, I set my tongue between my teeth and get to work.
“Done,” I announce seconds later, holding out the open box for Ronan to see. He whistles.
“That’s why I love you Mel, always full of surprises.”
The box clatters to the floor, my heartbeat races. As Ronan bends down to pick it up again, I stand rooted on the spot and panting like a dog. No one has ever told me they love me before. And for a split moment, I forgot that Ronan was just playing a part.
I inwardly shake myself and take a deep steady breath. This is a dangerous game. Not just because we might die from suffocation, but we could lose touch with reality and that will only end in heartbreak.
There’s no time to dwell on my thoughts, as Ronan makes a sound of victory and holds up a black crayon in front of my eyes.
“You know what this is?” he asks excitedly. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. The sense of urgency picks up as the pod ticks.
“You don’t think…” Ronan doesn’t finish his question. Instead, he takes the crayon and frantically scribbles on the paper.
“Oh great, sure. Ruin the one sheet of paper we have. Look babe, I know you’re stressed but we could have needed––”
Ronan brandishes the paper and dangles it in front of my eyes as he laughs.
“What am I looking at?” I squint at the black markings just as the light turns back to yellow and suddenly, I can make out a number grid.
“It’s like the one on the wall. But look at these numbers here, they’re written in bold.”
I inspect and want to kick myself.
“It’s a Sudoku puzzle,” I say, leaning over the table to study the wall more closely.
“One-minute remaining.” The announcement sends a shot of adrenaline through my body.
“Look,” Ronan says, pointing at the paper. “Four of the numbers are bold. But they don’t correlate with the numbers on this grid.”
I shake my head.
“It’s a clue. Don’t you see? Obviously, the numbers in these boxes make up the code.”
I climb onto the table and hover less than an inch away from the wall to see the markings on the wall.
“Look, it’s faint, but the boxes are coloured. This one is a blue five… and here’s a red seven.”
“Thirty seconds remaining.”
We jump, and now I can hear my heartbeat.
“Which order do they go in?” Ronan asks as he hurries to the door.
“Try this: five, seven, nine, nine,” I shout back. Ronan taps the numbers into the pad and…nothing happens.
“Wrong code.”
I slam my fist against the wall in frustration. What are we missing?
“Twenty seconds.”
We will die. Just because we can’t work out the order to enter the stupid code. This will mark the first time I’ve ever lost a room escape game. And the entire world will see it.
“Wait, Mel. Look at the light.”
He’s already told me to go to the light. We haven’t even suffocated yet. I glance at the light bulb as it flashes red. Then an idea hits me like a bolt of lightning.
“The colour sequence… it’s the light!” I study the wall again.
“Ten––” The countdown has begun. I sit up and trace my fingers on the wall to keep my place. We’ve got one more chance.
“Try this: Seven––”
<
br /> “Nine––”
“Nine, Nine.” I’m screeching over the stoic voice counting down to our doom. Ronan taps into the keypad as I jump down from the table and dash over to him.
“Four, Three, Two––”
My ears are ringing too loudly to hear anything now. I clamp my eyes shut and scream the final number.
“Five.”
The room fills with green light as the door clicks.
“Congratulations, you have successfully completed your challenge.”
Ronan turns on the spot and lifts me into the air as I throw my arms around his neck.
“We did it, we did it!” I squeal. Ronan squeezes me tight and plants kisses all over my face.
“You are amazing,” he says between kisses. “Just amazing.”
The door swings open, and we stumble out of the pod like a pair of drunken partygoers.
“Well done Ronan and Melissa, how do you feel?” Jewel says, clapping. Ronan takes my hand and we stand on our marks, ignoring the cameras as we beam at Jewel. Ronan wraps his arm around my waist and leans down to kiss the top of my head, while I stand grinning like a fool, unable to speak. I’m not sure if it was the thrill of solving the game, or Ronan’s kisses, but I have never felt so alive.
Chapter Nine
I officially have a crush on my boyfriend. We’ve only known each other for twenty-four hours, but we’ve spent almost every waking second of that time together. That’s got to be like ten dates, right? I mean, I’m sure I’ve gotten to know Ronan better than most of my ex-boyfriends.
Okay, so that’s easy to beat. The longest relationship I’ve ever had lasted six weeks. And that was a long-distance relationship. Now I don’t even entertain dating someone I meet online. That’s a can of worms I do not want to open again.
But Ronan, he’s right here. And he’s so present. It probably helps that we’re not allowed our phones. But I feel like he really sees me. And it turns out, we make a good team.
After a quick interview with Jewel, they send us to a small room to record more interviews. Gladly, I follow the direction to stroke Ronan’s arm or rest my head of his shoulder. His scent is warm and comforting with a hint of spice. We hold hands constantly and he becomes an appendage of my body. He brushes his lips against my forehead, whispers into my ear and I melt inside.
“Which one of you is the best at room escapes?” the interviewer asks. We exchange looks and break into a laugh. Then point at each other.
“So cute!” she exclaims. Her cheeks flushing. “Melissa, can you talk to us about what exactly was going through your mind when you entered the pod?”
“I thought I was going to die,” I say honestly, my hand flying to my chest. “I just panicked. It was like I couldn’t breathe.”
Ronan rubs my back and hums.
“And Ronan, it looked like you knew exactly what you had to do to calm her down. How did you know?”
I glance at Ronan and notice the blood draining from his face. His hand grows clammy.
“My sister used to get them all the time,” he says, his voice cracking. I give his hand a comforting squeeze. I want to look at him with concern, but the camera is still rolling and this revelation shouldn’t surprise me.
“She would struggle a lot with anxiety during chemo and I learnt that if I told her she was safe and hugged her, it would help.”
I’m not sure if this is part of his act, and his sister is a fictional character or not, but tears threaten to leak out of my eyes, which will probably result in black lines of mascara down my cheeks.
“Oh my,” the young women says, covering her mouth with a shaking hand. “Can you tell us about that? How is your sister now?”
“She was in the clear and then less than a year later, it came back.”
Ronan’s shoulders shake, and I automatically wrap my arms around him.
“She passed away a long time ago. But I still think about her every day,” he added.
This can’t be an act. Surely he wouldn’t stoop so low to lie about his sister dying from cancer?
“Ronan loved his sister,” I say in an attempt to sound like none of this was new information.
“And Melissa, it looks like the two of you have a very close bond. Have you also suffered a loss?”
I take a sharp inhale of breath and clamp my teeth together. The red light blinks at me from the huge camera pointing in my direction and I sense Ronan’s body stiffen. As if braced for bad news.
“Yes,” I say in a hollow voice. It would be easier to lie. Unfortunately, my mouth has a mind of its own. I talk at length about the various foster parents who raised me following the tragic death of my parents. They were on a second honeymoon and took a helicopter ride into the Grand Canyon. It should have been a romantic trip, but they never came home.
Now everyone in the room sit with tears in their eyes.
Fifteen emotionally charged moments pass, and the questions grow more and more invasive. Ronan handles most of them for me as I sit with a lump in my throat, willing the tears not to fall.
It has been years since I last talked about my parents. Even Elsie knew better than to talk about them. She knew it hurt too much. It was far less painful to put my parents in a box and hide them away out of sight. Just looking at their photographs feels like a dagger to the heart.
“And that’s a wrap,” Julian says with a clap. Ronan and I exhale with relief. “Now you two can relax. If you return to the main hall, there is a buffet for you. I imagine you’re hungry.”
After the lengthy talk about our deceased loved one? Actually, I feel too nauseous to even think about food. But I smile and nod as I follow Ronan out of the door.
We walk in silence, still holding hands, as if glued together. What a draining day. We pass a long window and I notice it’s not dark outside; I wonder if it’s too early to go to bed?
“You didn’t need to make up that story just for me,” Ronan says in a low voice. I stop walking and pull my hand away.
“Excuse me?”
Ronan halts and faces me, his brows pinched together and eyes dark.
“I mean, I don’t know why you would need to lie about that.”
“What about you? I thought you were an only child. Were you lying about your sister?”
The question takes him back. He looks at me with a mixture of insult and surprise.
“I would never––” he shakes his head and drags a hand across his face. He pulls out a pair of dog tags from underneath his shirt and holds it up to me. I squint to read the words etched into the metal plate.
Ronan, the best big brother in the world. Love Hannah.
“I didn’t mention her before because… I didn’t think the topic would come up. She died when I was ten. After that, it really was just me and my mum.” His voice breaks, and he looks away, eyes glistening.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, resting a hand on his. Ronan looks back at me and pauses, apparently undecided whether to pull away in disgust or stay and savour the moment. “I didn’t lie either. And I don’t appreciate you jumping to conclusions,” I say firmly.
Ronan’s cheeks rise and the corners of his eyes crease.
“I guess we both did that,” he says sheepishly. I nod and we keep walking.
“It’s hard to know what’s an act or not,” I think aloud. Ronan hums in agreement.
“Well, this is the truth: I enjoyed spending time with you today. Even if it’s been under surreal circumstances.” He grins at me, and a flutter in my stomach tells me the butterflies are back.
“Me too.” We share a look and mirror each other’s smile as a warmth spreads throughout my entire body.
Our moment ends with a tremendous smash followed by an ear-splitting scream. Ronan and I look at each other with puzzlement, then dash in the sound's direction.
Chapter Ten
“Robert, you idiot. If it wasn’t for your fat fingers, we’d have won.”
Couple number four stand six feet apart with millions
of pieces of shattered glass littering the floor between them. The lady at the desk by the front door is jabbering away into her phone and Ronan and I stand frozen on the spot.
“Are you kidding me Shelly?” Robert shouts back, waving his over-sized arm at the brunette who stands resolute with her hands on her hips. “How long did you waste trying to find the light?”
“I didn’t see you looking for it,” she says acidly.
“Exactly, we couldn’t see anything. And that light was next to your head.”
Ronan tugs on my hand.
“Come on, let’s leave them to it,” he mutters. Part of me wants to stay and enjoy the show. But Ronan’s right, we should leave them to fight it out. At this rate, they’ll be kicked out, giving Ronan and I a better chance to get to the next round.
“Do you think we have a chance at this?” I ask him as we enter the main hall. A line of tables laden with food await and my stomach rumbles at the sight of it.
“You know what,” Ronan says pulling me in for a side hug. “I do.”
“Do you not feel awkward being so affectionate with a stranger?” I ask, as I pick up a plate and look at the huge variety of food on the table. The production team have gone all-out on the catering. Cold meats, vegetables, smoothies, loads of different salads and fruit I don’t even recognise. Not to mention all the hot plates. I’m spoilt for choice and I wish I had a bigger plate to load it up. Ronan smirks as he watches me make a mashed potato mountain.
“Hey, don’t judge,” I warn while waving a potato-covered spoon at him. Ronan lifts his palms up and raises his brows.
“I said nothing,” he says innocently as he takes a plate. “And to answer your question, which stranger are you talking about?”
I stack sausages on my mashed potato and look pointedly at Ronan with a cocked brow. He snorts.
“You? Come on, you’re not a stranger.” We shuffle down the table, filling our plates at an unprecedented rate. The different aromas are making my knees weak. I can’t remember the last time I ate a proper meal.
“Before yesterday, I had never met you before in my life,” I point out with a nod.