I'm terrified, but I know it'll be worth it in the end.

We've been in the bar for about an hour, I'm pretty sure it's all of us. I'm hyper aware of the cameras, but at the same time not knowing where they are makes me feel self-conscious. This was supposed to be fun, lighthearted. I knew it was going to be hard to learn how to trust in people again, to let go and be ready for love.

No one told me he would be here.

My eyes welled up with tears the moment he crossed that door. I can't let them know, no one can find out we know each other. Did he even recognize me? Did he even care? The main reason why I came here was him, to get away from his memory.

But I can't give up, not again.

Maybe focusing in the others will help me feel more of a sense of belonging, or at least keep my mind focused on something else.

A little crowd is gathered around those two guys that clearly look like friends: Owen and Luis. Their arms are around each other but it feels there's some sort of rivalry between both of them. Luis looks arrogant, obnoxious, with his slicked back hair and half smirk. He turns to look at me and winks, I smile cordially and turn around to avoid his stare.

"Hi! What's your name" I hear the very moment I turn around. She's wearing a bright smile, and her pearly white teeth shine against her dark skin. It takes me by surprise and I feel a surge of excitement. I find myself smiling back, her warmth is contagious.

"Oh my goodness, you're Jasmine!" I can hardly believe it. Is she actually speaking to me? She simply nods and downplays it, as if she isn't one of the most accomplished people in social media. "I'm Emily, it's a pleasure to meet you. You're the reason why I decided to start taking online dance lessons!" My voice trembles, she doesn't seem to mind.

In person, she is even more stunning, without any filters or meticulously arranged lighting. Completely natural, with minimal makeup. So authentic. My mom always used to say that you had to be exquisitely beautiful to pull off a shaved head. Now, everything makes sense to me.

I wish I was like her.

Something clicks between us and it feels like we've been friends for a long time. Eventually a couple of guys come and try to talk to us, but she brushes them off, almost pro

"They're sharks, we have to be weary in here. They'll try to get us while our guard is down." She says, in an almost motherly tone. "Don't worry, we'll stick together."

For a second, I forget he's here.

Then the phones ring, one by one until everyone is looking at them. I get brought back to reality by a single sentence in my phone screen.

ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴ ᴄᴀʀᴇꜰᴜʟʟʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ.

Secrets? What secrets?

I don't want to seem like i'm clinging to her, but still stick with Jasmine and we follow the crowd all the way outside of the bar door and crossing the vestibule. She's holding my arm the same say I would do with a sister, and I try to focus on our conversation to stop feeling that every single stare is directed towards me. I hate it.

"I seriously love your hair. It's so awful when you see textured hair people try to straighten it! I'm glad you didn't." Jasmine seems so lighthearted and free, careless, hopeful. Maybe being around her will help me relax and stop thinking about the past.

"Thank you! So, so much. It's a pain but I think it's worth it. I do love your..." Wait, what am I supposed to say now? "... head shape?"

I burst into laughter, and she joins in, creating a harmonious atmosphere where everything feels alright, even if it's just for a brief moment.

And I hear the scream.

I jump and press on Jasmine's arm so hard I'm pretty sure I left marks. Is it happening? Is it him? I'm shivering and my legs are about to give out. My lower lip trembles, I want to throw up and didn't even have a single drink.

She holds me and takes a look at me, her gaze lingers on my face, penetrating deep into the depths of my soul. In that moment, a sense of calm washes over me, and I gradually regain my composure.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It's pitch black in there!" I hear, but it seems like the voice is several miles away. My ears are still ringing.

Jasmine leans to me and takes a deep breath, encouraging me to do the same.

"Hey, I've been there too." Her voice carries a sense of shared vulnerability, and it feels entirely authentic. It's as if she knows the pain I'm experiencing. "But it's fine, we're safe here. There's way too many cameras and too much on the line. A lot of people here are rich, production wouldn't want to have to deal with lawyers."

We stand there for a split second and I swear I sense she feels my pain. She's not saying this just to be nice, she truly understands.

"You're good?" A male voice approaches and I'm about to lose myself again.

Jasmine straightens her back and smiles at him, but her muscles are tense and her grip on me tightens.

"Yes! The scream was kind of unsettling." She responds and I turn to look at him.

His long, thick dreadlocks are falling down his forehead, gently framing his face. His skin tone is slightly darker than that of Jasmines, and it beautifully glistens under the bright lights of the room. When he smiles, it radiates warmth and politeness, instantly putting me at ease. As he extends his hand towards me, I can't help but notice the considerable distance he leaves between us, as if he too is aware of my weariness around men.

And yet I thought I was controlling it well.

He feels sensitive, respectful, actually nice. But I can't let my guard down.

The secrets are no joke and I find myself becoming increasingly anxious. At first people were joking about the porn addiction, but right after the suicide a somber silence fell upon everyone. Just too real to even try to wrap your head around it. And the sad part is that I'm pretty sure that would apply to more than one person.

Still, having Jasmine by my side and even the guy that joined later, Darius, makes me feel a sense of belonging that I didn't feel when I arrived.

"Hands that can't resist, a thief in the mist. Taking what's not mine, a compulsive spree, my secret reveals the thief in me. Who could I be?"

More and more secrets come in, I look around and it's evident that people are already starting to let their first opinions settle in. Trying to connect the dots onto who's good, who's bad and who's just pretending.

"Behind bars, I once resided, mistakes made, my freedom subsided. Imprisoned in the past, my secret's locked fast. Who am I?"

I wish this secret belonged to him. I wished for so long to have the courage to confess to someone, anyone, about the terrible things he did. But no, he walked free.

"In love, I strayed from the heart, my own infidelity tore my marriage apart. Betrayal tarnished my once pure name, my secret is part of my story's flame. Who am I?"

Every single one of the secrets feels like a riddle I don't even want to resolve. It's all too much, at least for right now. I tap and tap on the screen while people come and go. How would I know who to choose, if I've barely talked to a couple of them?

"Fraud and deceit surrounded my days, a financial scandal in mysterious ways. In the game of ambition, I found my place, my secret is something I can't erase. What is my name?"

So far we have: a creepy stalker, someone struggling with a porn addiction, a person with failed suicide attempt, an adoption that didn't go as planned, someone battling kleptomania, an ex-convict, a cheating spouse, and even someone involved in financial fraud. Most of these people sound awful! How on earth would anyone know who to choose as a partner?!

"What do you think my secret is?" Jasmine asks, no one has accused her of anything yet. I get caught of guard by the question, it seems lighthearted. Maybe my face is revealing too much again and she's trying to liven up the mood. "You look like the type of girl that probably bullied others in middle school," Darius responds and we chuckle. "I don't know man, some of these are too dark for my liking."

"Yeah... It was supposed to be fun and I kind of feel like crying." Jasmine says with a smile, I blink a couple of times before coming up with a response.

"Do you think they're true? Maybe production is just saying outrageous things to make us suspicious of everyone." I ask, hoping it's true. I know it's impossible that they have something on me, it has to be. I can't imagine what it'll happen if they...

"Ok let's do something. I promise that, if they call out my secrets, I'll own up to it." Jasmine offers and my mouth hangs wide open. "Wait, but are you sure? What if it's too private?" She brushes it off and holds her pinky towards me.

"Pinky promise," she says with a smile.

The secrets continue to unravel. Apparently someone is an undercover famous DJ and someone else is married. Currently, there's heated debate among a few individuals about the gender of the person who allegedly had an affair with a well-known figure. Perfect, another cheater. It's all so... terrible.

Finally a woman is accused, she's like Jasmine, everyone recognizes her. Nadia, the anti-scam youtuber. She walks to the podium with a flip of her hair and rolling her eyes.

"This is perfectly typical, I'm not even surprised." She says, while getting ready to read.

"Hey, you're famous and it makes sense that you'd know famous people as well!" There's a sense of tension in his voice, almost like it's not an innocent guess as most of other ones have been.

She just ignores it and clears her throat.

"In the web, I found my way, sharing images from someone else" She starts reading slowly and carefully, her accent makes the words sound melodic, even though they are horrific. "Breaking the law, my secret's inside, who am I? Can you confide?" She finishes and her brows furrow. "In case you didn't know, there are laws against revenge porn in 46 states"

Silence.

My throat starts closing with each passing second. I feel a knot tightening inside me, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Panic sets in, and my heart races uncontrollably. No, no. This can't be happening.

I try to steady my breathing, but it's no use. The room feels suffocating, the walls closing in on me. I struggle to find my voice but somehow manage to not fall over. The whole room spins around me, a single tear is burning the skin on my cheek. Everything becomes a blur, and I desperately cling to Jasmine's arm. I don't even care if she notices. I need help. I need to get out of here.

Every other voice is muffled, nothing else is real. Jasmine whispers in my ear, I think she's counting something. The numbers make me feel grounded and my breathe starts following the rhythm in her voice.

I slowly turn around and see her, barely moving, maybe making sure no one notices I'm freaking out. Again. Things start to sharpen again and she just nods when she sees the color returning to my face. There's this understanding in her eyes, something that tells me she gets it. The same stare she gave me when I jumped the first time.

But no, she doesn't get it. She can't. No one can.

Still, I'm grateful to have her next to me.

"I know we had to accuse people of... things but, that was harsh." Darius' voice is not coming from beside me anymore. He's in the podium looking more than slightly uncomfortable. I feel for him. Being accused of something that vile, that despicable... A chill runs down my spine, he starts, probably wanting the other secret to be over with as soon as possible. "Within me, time is ticking fast, a life's hourglass, the sands won't last." He gulps, once again what was supposed to be a fun challenge is only making everyone be on edge. "A terminal embrace, the secret I have to face. Who am I?"

He looks around, confused and dazed. He almost seems like he doesn't even want to be here in the first place. He looks at the screen in front of him, probably showing the same thing we have in our phones: the faces remaining. It has to be a joke, a dark cruel one. Who in their right mind would do such a thing? How would the produces expose something like that, so personal, so sad, if it wasn't a lie?

Darius just shakes his head, he's probably going to say he doesn't want to guess who the hell is dying, when the sound of a char being rolled back interrupts his train of thought. All of ours.

It takes me a split second to realize who stood up.

"Someone had to take ownership of their secret so... I guess the truth is out" Says Jasmine with an uncomfortable smile, shrugging. "But I don't want your pity, I came here to have fun. Right?" Silence, absolute, sepulchral. She's visibly tense, nervous and extends her hand to mine. I grab it and squeeze it, she does the same.

I still can't believe Jasmine is going to die.

Here I was, panicking over some things that happened in the past. They were awful, of course, but I'm safe... at least for now.

How could I have been so self-centered? That has to be the reason why she's being so nice to me, she's suffering and can see the same in my eyes. But it's not fair, not to her. She's such a good person.

Not like me.

"I'm so sorry..." Owen says to Jasmine. The guessing game has finally ended and the rest of the secrets have been spread.

As soon as the last person was accused, everyone started standing up. It was more than obvious that the whole ordeal left everyone feeling at least uneasy, uncomfortable. So they started talking again, wondering what was going to happen next. I couldn't help but try to imitate them, standing next to Jasmine and interjecting in conversations whenever I felt pertinent. Doing everything to stay low key.

"Why? It's not your fault!" She responds with a natural smile, brushing the topic off as if it was nothing.

She's so talented, so young. Just rose to stardom last year. And as soon as this show airs everyone will know she's going to die! Was this her plan all along? No, it can't be. It's insane and unfair, and their conversation feels so casual that I have to force myself to look around, fix my attention to something else to stop thinking about it all.

"I'm done, I'm tired. I need my rest." Luis, that arrogant asshole from earlier, walks to the door.

He strides as if he owns the place, and might as well do it with how rich he's supposed to be. He's follower by a tall blonde woman, with beautiful hair so long it touches her butt-cheeks, almost white. The world seems to slow down when he puts his hand on the door handle and pulls. And pulls.

And pulls again.

Even from the distance I can see the panic starting to spread from his eyes to the rest of his body. The room is not that big, not enough to have people standing and walking about without being able to get out. Not for long anyways.

Why is it not opening? What's going on?

The room falls silent as more people begin to notice the situation unfolding before them. Whispers of concern fill the air, Jasmine squeezes my hand and I just realize I never stopped holding it since we got up.

"What's happening?" someone asks, their voice trembling.

Fear creeps up my spine, intertwining with the unease that has settled within me since I arrived. I exchange a glance with Jasmine, and her usual calm demeanor falters for a moment.

"Luis, what's going on?" Jasmine's voice quivers, it transmits perfectly what everyone else in the room is feeling right now.

"Holy shit I just want to go to bed!" Luis mutters through gritted teeth, his voice laced with panic.

A wave of anxiety washes over the room, and the atmosphere becomes suffocating.

We are trapped with strangers that have proved to have, at least some, broken the law. The reality of our situation sinks in. My heart pounds in my chest as I search for answers. How did this happen? Is this another test?

Some guy runs to the podium and starts trying to flick the screen, push nonexistent buttons. He's also trying to maintain his composure, but everyone knows we are second away from freaking out.

The sound of tinkling raindrops floods the environment, like a wave that starts bringing us back to sanity. Everyone turns around to look at him and it's very apparent that he's not happy with the stares.

What was the secret he said? His voice comes to me from the back of my brain, like a whisper.

"A forbidden love, a risky affair, with a married boss, my heart did share. When I couldn't bear it, I revealed the truth, my secret holds the essence of my youth. Who am I?"

Of course, the homewrecker one. Another person on the list of I-never-want-to-hook-up-with that just keeps growing and growing. He had accused some other man of it, probably didn't want to hurt his chances to get with any of the girls.

Finally, the words from the screen start changing, fading out and turning into new ones.

ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ?

My phone buzzes, the screen displays two big buttons: ʏᴇꜱ and ɴᴏ.

"It's all probably automated" Owen says, still standing at Jasmine's other side. I turn to look at him and he smiles. "You okay?" I nod.

Why does everyone keep asking me that?

I fake a smile and look back at my phone, press the "yes" button several times. I want to get out of here. This is not fun, It was supposed to be fun!

ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴏᴀᴄʜᴇꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇꜱᴛ. ʙᴜᴛ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴛɪʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴɪᴏɴꜱ. ꜱᴇʟᴇᴄᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇꜱ ᴡɪꜱᴇʟʏ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟɪᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴍᴀʏ ᴅᴇᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴀᴛᴇ.

ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪꜱ ʟᴏɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀ ꜰʀᴀɢɪʟᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢ. ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴡɪꜱᴇʟʏ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜꜱ.

As soon as the words finish rendering on the screen, they move aside and make room for three pictures of a gorgeous bedroom. The tension dissipates.

It's luxurious, with red velvet curtains decorating the walls and gold accents in every piece of furniture. The bed is adorned with plush velvet pillows and a stylish headboard with gold accents. There's no ceiling lighting; instead, several tiny lamps are hung in the walls, casting a warm and inviting glow. The room also has a mini fridge, a full bathroom with marble accents, and a walk-in closet with mirrored doors.

It's amazing!

Surprise gasps are heard from every direction and it seems like finally we are about to get some sense of what we truly came to experience. I turn around and take the time to take everyone's reaction. Someone is not that happy with it, I remember her name.

Maya.

She fiddles with her phone and smiles awkwardly, kind of shifting. She seems tense.

The words change once again and she looks at them, almost hopeful.

ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʏᴇᴀʀɴ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏʟɪᴛᴜᴅᴇ, ᴀ ꜱᴀɴᴄᴛᴜᴀʀʏ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴘʀʏɪɴɢ ᴇʏᴇꜱ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍꜱ ᴀᴠᴀɪʟᴀʙʟᴇ.

ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʙᴇ ᴡᴀʀɴᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴘᴏʀᴛᴜɴɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍꜱ ɪꜱ ꜰʟᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ.

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴘ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴇɴ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ᴀ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ. ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴄʏ ᴄᴏɪɴꜱ.

ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴇʏ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴇᴄʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴡɪꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴇʏ. ᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴡɪꜱᴇʟʏ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴄʏ ᴛᴏ ʙɪᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇꜱꜱ ʟᴜxᴜʀɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍꜱ.

A little circle with a P in the middle appears on my phone screen, exactly as the screen said. Next to it, the number 3. The pictures are being replaced by other much less interesting. This room barely has an individual bed with a boring white cover. Nothing on the walls, no fridge, not even a shower. It's small, almost claustrophobic, the bathroom looks almost like a closet with a toilet inside it.

Maya almost chokes when she sees it and immediately starts tapping on her phone screen. I check mine to try to understand what she's looking at and can see how a "bid" button has appeared. Her name shows up on the screen for a split second and almost everyone turns to look at her.

"Why so eager?" Nadia, chuckles. Her tone is not necessarily mocking but something doesn't fit right with me. "Have something to hide?"

"Everyone does" The girl responds and rolls her eyes. "That was literally the point of this first game."

Maybe she's on to something, maybe the luxury of it all is just a test.

Another face appears on the screen. It's the other youtuber, Sydney, the true crime fanatic. People once again turn to them, as if asking for an explanation.

"She's got a point, I don't know everyone yet. I'm not gonna trust you like that" They say and shrug.

The option to bid disappears from my phone.

ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʜᴏɴᴇ ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ

We all obey, do we even have the option not to?

When I take out the red cover something that looks like a big, thin coin falls to the ground. By the clinking sounds of it, I wasn't the only one that dropped it. I examine it for a second, it's some sort of transparent metal that has the show's logo engraved on both sides. A bell sound brings my attention back to the big screen.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɪɴꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴏʟᴅ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴍᴇʀᴇ ᴛʀɪɴᴋᴇᴛꜱ.

ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴋᴇɴꜱ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴄʏ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴡɪꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴇʏ.

ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴇxᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ.

ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴇxᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴅᴇᴄɪꜱɪᴏɴ. ɪᴛ ʀᴇQᴜɪʀᴇꜱ ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴀɢʀᴇᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ.

ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴᴛ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ꜰʀᴀɢɪʟᴇ, ᴇᴀꜱɪʟʏ ꜱʜᴀᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ.

ɪꜰ ᴀᴛ ᴀɴʏ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴠᴏᴋᴇ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴀꜱᴋ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴋᴇɴ ʙᴀᴄᴋ.

ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʙᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ, ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴇꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴅᴇɴɪᴇᴅ ᴀᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇᴅ ʀᴏᴏᴍꜱ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ʀᴏᴏᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ ɪꜱ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ.

ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴡɪꜱᴇʟʏ, ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴋᴇɴꜱ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴇʏ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴘᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴇʏ.

Privacy coins, trust tokens. I repeat the rules in my head to make sure I don't forget them. The atmosphere changes from panic to anticipation as people start to consider their options. Looking around like they are kids in middle school trying to find our who they would like to partner with for the next assignment. My phone buzzes again and I see now my name, and the option to choose someone else from a dropdown list.

Maya and Sydney's names are not there. Actually, I catch a glimpse of them going through the door that is now open, looking at their phone screens, as if there were specific instructions on them.

ᴊᴀꜱᴍɪɴᴇ. ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ.

Jasmine gasps and looks around, nervously. There's tension in her eyes, she's clearly uncomfortable. Owen is looking at her with puppy eyes, Darius winks. I step back, almost instinctively, maybe to give her some space. Maybe because I don't want all those eyes on me.

I don't want his eyes on me.

She looks at every single person in the room, takes her time as if weighing her next action. Then she stops on me, and smiles.

"Emily," she says, her voice barely audible. "Wanna be my roommate for tonight?"

I pause for a moment, cough and look around. Upset and confused stares are directed towards me, they are piercing my soul. Choosing my partner for the night feels like a significant decision, especially considering the mysterious nature of this game. She's the safest option, after all, she's the only one whose secret everyone already knows. But why did she choose me?

"You don't even know my secret" I whisper, hunching down as I walk back towards her, desperate to avoid the gazes of others.

"I don't care, you're pretty much the most genuine person I've met here so far" She responds with a shrug, I feel tears invading my eyes.

She's amazing.

"If you say so," I try to contain my enthusiasm "I would love to."

"And they were roommates!" Someone screams and everyone bursts in laughter, including me.

Everything seems a little bit better now. People clap for some reason and we exchange our coins in something that almost feels like a rudimentary ring ceremony. I catch my smile growing bigger and bigger and each one of my moves feeling more and more comfortable.

I look around and see people's faces and I'm not nervous anymore, it's like something clicks inside of me. There's newfound sense of comfort and excitement for the night ahead. At least I know I'll be safe, that I found someone who values authenticity like I do.

Looking around, I see everyone's faces, and a sense of calmness envelops me. It's like a switch has been flipped, filling me with comfort and excitement for the night ahead. Finding someone who values authenticity as much as I do brings me a deep sense of security, finally. I'm so grateful to have connected with someone like her. Does she even realize that?

But someone stands out from the middle of the crowd. Like a bad omen, like a disease. Someone I kept trying to forget. I hadn't been sure if he even knew I was there until this moment. There he is, with his short ginger hair, those lifeless green eyes, and the enormous red birthmark that covers half of his face. Among all the cheerful faces, he is staring at me, his face twisted in a display of pure, unfiltered rage.

And then, a smile creeps across his face, sending a chill down my spine.