Note: this chapter contains some strong language; as well as depictions of death and loss.

———

"Partygoers, your playing time begins — now."

A thirty-minute timer starts above the playing ground; George immediately darts towards anybody he can get close to, in a bid to tag them. Whitney and Michael split off, running in different directions to make it less likely for one of them to be caught. George chooses to follow Whitney — she heads towards one of the train stations on the grounds; George notices this, running as fast as he can.

"I'll fucking win this for you guys," he speaks aloud, but aimed at Elton and Andrew. "You know that I love Michael and Whitney, but I have to make it out of here."

Whitney leaps behind a large model train, to give herself some time to catch her breath. Her eyes slowly move up, to see if she can find where George has gone. She sees him running towards the train she's currently hiding behind; so she sneaks around it to avoid being seen. George spots her yellow jogging suit, making a crazy sprint to reach her. She tries to dodge his glove; but alas, he tags her.

"Player 063 is It."

George speeds off in the opposite direction, knowing that he is the prime target for as long as Whitney is It. He arrives at an overturned bus, deciding to climb in through the window in order to hide for a little while. He settles himself underneath one of the seats, panting heavily. Silence surrounds him, which builds up his anxiety.

Michael is running around the entire playing ground, seemingly lost. He has tried to find Whitney or George — despite knowing it's a risky move — just so he knows he isn't alone in this grand room. His eyes flicker left to right, but to no avail, as there isn't another person in sight. He stops running, standing still on the spot. He leans his hands against his knees to regain a normal breathing pattern.

Whitney runs through the mountains, spying thick forests and a single house. She hasn't seen George or Michael in at least five minutes, which fills her with worry. Could she actually die in the next twenty minutes?

"Come out George!" she calls, despite knowing he won't reveal his location. "You can't hide forever!"

George remains still, not wanting to give himself away. The curiosity starts to get to him, though — as to where the other two players are. He can hear Whitney in the distance shouting for him to come out, but he's not stupid enough to listen. He does, however, slowly raise his head over the seat he's hiding under; so he can get a better look at where she could be. This proves to be a mistake, as Whitney spots his blonde hair sticking out from the helmet he's wearing instantly. She rushes over to him — knowing he won't have chance to get himself out of the bus before she reaches him — and forces her fingers against his helmet.

"Player 025 is It."

She dashes away from him, in an attempt to find Michael. She knows he's safe for a little while — he's the only person who hasn't been It, yet.

"Michael?" she shouts out. "Where are you?"

Michael is walking, rather than running now, through the forest. It looks just like the one from the Hide and Seek game they played on the second day. The one with the large body of water that Michael nearly drowned in. He still feels fortunate, to have been saved by Whitney. She is the reason he is still alive.

With ten minutes to go, Michael's reminiscence is interrupted when the lights go out completely. Whitney and George also pause, confused as to what is going on. Once it's entirely dark, the three players' LED vests and helmets begin to flash — clearly a way to make the game harder for them all.

"Shit!" Michael hisses, as he spots another LED figure running over to him. He spots the number 025 lit up on the chest of the player's vest. It's George — and last time Michael checked — George is It.

Michael turns on his heels, taking off towards the other side of the forest. He can hear George chasing him; perhaps only around twenty metres behind. His heart ferociously pounds against his vest, as he leaps; dodges; sprints over fallen branches and chopped tree trunks. Michael eventually hits a log, stumbling over it clumsily. As he falls to the ground, he turns over to see George fast approaching him.

"I'm sorry," George apologises, before pushing his gloved hand to Michael's vest.

"Player 077 is It."

Before the tannoy can even finish giving the statement, George has vanished. Michael picks himself up from off the floor, brushing his jogging suit down to rid any dirt from his fall; before he starts to jog in a random direction. With only five minutes left, he begins to panic that he may actually be the one to get eliminated. He ventures out of the forest, finding no sign of any LED lights anywhere. He feels alone in a dark world.

As the timer starts to tick down towards the two-minute mark, Michael begins to accept that this is where he loses the game. He bows his head, tears forming in his eyes at the idea of never seeing those he loves again.

"Shit," he cries — he can't even feel angry anymore; he just feels heartbroken. He wants to get out of this game, so he can see his baby girl and his wife. Even if it means admitting he'd cheated, he still can't bare the thought of never seeing them again. He begins to sob loudly, not caring how much attention he draws to himself. He's about to die anyway.

"I'm sorry Harper," he sniffles, his gloved hand covering his face. "I'm sorry I let you down like I always did. I hope Rae will have a wonderful life without me."

The timer falls to a minute and a half remaining. By now, George has well and truly hidden. Not even Whitney — who is desperately in search for him — can find him. She does, however, hear Michael's hysterical crying; so she follows the sound until she finds him.

"Michael?" she calls out, knowing that this is a risky move.

Michael looks up, to see Whitney standing a few metres away. "Stay away from me Whitney."

"What? No," Whitney responds, taking slow steps towards him. "I want to say goodbye to you."

Michael's nodding is just visible courtesy of the lights that flash off from his gaming gear. "Be fast. I'll be dead in a minute."

She heads over to him, stopping when she faces opposite him. "So this is goodbye."

Michael's tears continue to roll down his face. "I guess it is. If you win this thing, please go find my wife and tell her I'm sorry. She needs to know the truth. She deserves to know."

"You touched my heart, Michael. From the moment I first saw you, until the very end." She furrows her brows in sadness, wanting to touch him so badly — but holding back from doing so. "You and I stuck together until the very end. We cared for one another, even though it was never meant to be." A single tear runs down her face. "But between us, we'll make sure things work out as they should."

"Thank you for making these last few days bearable."Michael smiles a melancholy smile. "I'd have been dead way before now without you. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"I guess that's what makes this goodbye so difficult," she explains, her eyes lowering to the ground. "The fact that we both feel we aren't good enough for each other."

Michael removes one of his gloves, to rid the sensors so he can touch her face without tagging her. "You were always too good for me, Whitney. I'm not good enough for anybody. Not even my own daughter."

"You don't know that," Whitney corrects him. "You could be the best father she could ever hope for."

"But it's not as if I'll ever find out," he reminds her, another stream of tears slipping down his chiselled cheek bones. "She'd deserve better anyway. And you deserve better. I'd never be able to fix the bond you and I had, nor the marriage I've ruined."

With thirty seconds left until the end of the game, the two begin to conclude their final conversation.

"You touched my heart," Whitney repeats, once again. "From beginning to end." She takes her bottom lip into her mouth, to hold back her tears. "And now I ask you to touch it one final time."

She takes Michael's hands in her own, bringing him in for one final kiss. The pair remain in this embrace a few seconds — before Whitney moves Michael's hand to the left side of her chest — right where her heart is. She touches his hand to her vest, right as the timer hits zero.

"Player 063 is It."

"Go and be with your wife. And love her the way you loved me."

"Player 077 — pass. Player 025 — pass."

"What?" Michael snaps, holding her by her shoulders. "Why the fuck did you do that!?"

She looks up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. His face is only visible to her, due to the lights on her vest. "So that you always remember you touched my heart, from the start ... to the end."

The masked team member eventually locates the pair, pulling Whitney away from Michael. They aim the gun at her head, but she has just enough time to speak her final words.

"No hard feelings, Mr Jackson. I will always love you."

The gun is shot, causing a stunned Michael to cringe aggressively at the sound. Whitney falls to the floor, the blood seeping through her dark hair, as the lights in the playing ground turn back on. The sight is enough to cause Michael to retch in disgust; seeing her dead, and still on the grass results in him falling to his knees beside her.

"Player 063 — eliminated."

"Whitney!" he cries, the suddenness of her death sending him into shock. "Fuck! Whitney!" His horrific shrieks in emotional agony fill the entire playing arena.

Even George can hear him from the other side of the grounds. He remains in his curled-up ball, at the top of one of the trees in the forest; and he starts to sob at the idea of Whitney being gone. The three of them got so far together, and became such close friends. The harsh reality that he'll either walk out alive tomorrow; or be eliminated suddenly hits him.

"I made it," he whispers shakily, not sure whether to be happy or not because of the fact.

Michael takes Whitney into his arms, leaning her bloodied head against his chest. He cradles her back and forth, letting the tears fall freely. He feels no sense of shame for his reaction — all he feels is anguish, and intense guilt. The fact that she sacrificed herself, even after he broke her heart, will forever stay with him.

"You touched my heart."

That single sentence repeats itself in his head. The painfully ironic thing, of course, being that touching her heart is what caused her death. He didn't plan it; he didn't expect for it to happen. He'd even removed one of his gloves prior to the end of the game to avoid this. But now, the damage has been done — she's gone, having given her life for his to continue.

The masked team member eventually returns, to retrieve Whitney's body. Michael is reluctant to give her to them, but knows he must. As they carry her away, he watches her go.

"Goodbye, Nippy," he breathes, referencing the nickname Prince used to give to her. "You touched my heart, too. Thank you for everything you've done."

"Players 025 and 077, please return to the main function room."

With grief in his heart, Michael trudges through the game grounds, following another masked team member to the exit. George eventually catches up to him; the pair hug one another fearfully.

"I'm so sorry," George says to him. "This is all so horrific."

"Now it's just the two of us," Michael sighs. "One day left."

The tannoy intervenes, before they can continue to hold any type of discussion.

"Congratulations, Player 025 and Player 077. You are the final two partygoers in the game."

~~

Chapter nineteen! Did anybody expect that?