"There have been a lot of speculations about you lately, how have you been holding up?" Marion inquired with a hint of nonchalance. She looked stunning in her diamond white peak tuxedo jacket paired with silk pants and silver heels. After a brief pause, she broke into a warm smile, putting me at ease for the conversation.
For the first couple of seconds, I wasn't sure how to respond. I had just had a deeply intense conversation with Rayden. My heart was still racing, and I needed to think on my feet before I spoiled Marion's question.
"I've been doing really well. In this industry, there are people who will like you and people who only see your mistakes. The world can be a harsh place where it's impossible to please everyone," I began, allowing a soft laugh to escape, a deliberate attempt to calm my racing heart. Hopefully, I was convincing enough. "Some might say I have an attitude or that I don't conform to the usual standards. Maybe that's true, or maybe not. I just want to emphasize that it's not about having an attitude; it's about being true to myself."
Applause erupted from the audience, and my supporters cheered enthusiastically. I hoped I was getting my message across clearly. I felt grateful for the overwhelming support surrounding me. It felt like a safety net, an assurance that I wouldn't fall.
"Go, Sidney!"
"We love you, Sidney Pencer!" a voice from the audience shouted, their vocal cords nearly tearing from the sheer volume.
Those cheers had a way of making me feel secure. It was as if my support system was a shield that would never let me down.
"I know, Sid. You're charming in so many ways," the host chimed in with a side comment. Marion was one of the first people I got to know through this talk show. "What's your message to all the people who've supported you throughout this journey?" she followed up.
"While I might not be everyone's cup of tea, a lot of you sure drank coffee for me," I quipped, earning laughter from the audience.
"I'll forever be grateful to everyone who played a part in getting me to this point. You are all part of this journey with me. Whether I win or lose, I feel like I've won the hearts of many, and that's a victory in itself," I said, my gaze sweeping across the crowd. It felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and perhaps this was the grand finale. The world seemed to pause, granting me the time I needed to savor the moment. Phone screens lit up as the audience waited in anticipation for my words. "Thank you all for being a part of this journey!"
Once again, the audience erupted into a thunderous applause and cheers. While my odds of winning the competition might have been diminishing, at least I could feel that the majority didn't harbor any hatred towards me. That, in itself, was a significant victory.
***
As my casual chitchat with Marion wrapped up, the director swiftly hoisted a cue card in the air, signaling the impending "next big thing." With about six minutes of commercials ahead, I stood there with all the grace of a startled flamingo, completely caught off guard as the remaining four finalists strutted their way onto the stage.
All four girls entered, exuding elegance that could make a unicorn jealous. Seriously, there was no way to pick a standout from this bunch. It was like a glam parade, and I was starting to feel like I was at a fancy fashion showdown rather than a reality TV show.
The director made a grand gesture for me to step aside, creating room for the entrance of Cess, Isabel, Mitch, and the one and only shimmery queen, Sylvia. I shuffled back, and just as I did, our paths collided – me and the silver serpentina goddess. Sylvia gave me a look that could rival a cat's disdain for an innocent mouse. Ah, the joy of competitive camaraderie.
Sashaying forward, I suddenly found my foot mysteriously engaged in a secret dance battle with Sylvia's. It was like they were doing a tango without my consent, and before I knew it, my equilibrium was doing the Macarena. The cameras didn't miss a beat, capturing my impending wobble and projecting it onto the big screen for all to see. Oh, the joys of live TV.
The arena echoed with gasps that could rival a choir of opera singers, and in the midst of my ungraceful teetering, a savior emerged – none other than Rayden, complete with a superhero cape made of charm and charisma. His signature cologne hit my nostrils like a friendly punch, bringing back a surge of memories – the good, the awkward, and the "why did I say that" ones.
"Can't let you fall, Sid," Rayden's voice was like a soothing balm, and his arm was my lifeline.
My cheeks decided to throw a rave, erupting into a shade of red usually reserved for traffic lights. Classic me, blushing like a tomato at the most random moments. But hey, at least I was doing it in style, nearly falling and all.
With the grace of a gazelle being taught ballet by a drunk flamingo, I replied, "Oh, I was hoping for the same," with all the nonchalance I could muster. Yeah, right. Because nonchalance is my middle name.
With my dignity somewhat back in place, I continued my journey toward the platform where Rayden was meant to grace us with his presence. And grace he did, wearing a tuxedo that probably cost more than my year's rent. Oh, the joys of being in the presence of glitterati.
"Look at the camera, ladies!" the director boomed, sounding like a drill sergeant prepping us for a fashion war. "As the camera crane swoops by, give it your fiercest look! We're about to go live in, oh, approximately 30 seconds! Get those fierce faces ready, girls!"
I took a deep breath, trying to summon my inner fierce diva. We were fast approaching the grand finale, the climax of this reality TV rollercoaster. As per the director's playbook, only two of us would be left standing in the final round. We were going to get grilled like marshmallows on a summer campfire, and our answers would be our only shield.
The countdown began, and before I knew it, the high-energy beats of an uber-popular band filled the air, mingling with the notable tension. The camera crane started to move, heading straight for me. Now, you'd think I'd be a pro at this, but nope, I panicked internally, wondering if my "fierce" face was more "confused squirrel" than "fashion icon." But the show must go on, and there I was, staring down the lens with all the intensity I could muster.
And then, just like that, the spotlight did a swivel, leaving me to contemplate my life choices and Sylvia's impeccably manicured nails. The moment seemed to pass in a blur, like a one-hit wonder's brief appearance on the music charts – here one second, gone the next.
But I digress. With the dramatic tension of a teetering tower of Jenga blocks, Marion's voice sliced through the arena, announcing the highly anticipated top two. It was like waiting for the punchline of a joke that could either have the crowd in stitches or tumble like a bad soufflé.
"Friends, from our fantastic five, we're narrowing it down to the top two. Who among Cess, Isabel, Michelle, Sylvia, and Sidney has the social media crowd screaming their names?"
The crowd erupted, a symphony of cheers competing for dominance, each name echoing through the space like a tug-of-war between fandoms.
"And now, the verdict is in! The first rose," Marion declared, pausing for dramatic effect that probably rivaled a soap opera's cliffhanger, before turning her gaze to me and proclaiming, "You called it! The lady in the black-meets-gray, now rocking the red Cinderella look, Sidney!"
The crowd erupted once more, cheers and applause bombarding me from all sides. My heart pounded like it was auditioning for a drum solo, and my legs suddenly decided they were contestants in a dance-off, performing the cha-cha of excitement. Among the sea of ecstatic faces, I caught sight of Meg, Migs, and my aunt bouncing like popcorn kernels in a microwave. My eyes darted to Rayden, looking slightly disappointed, his expression a mixture of surprise and something else I couldn't quite decipher. This wasn't part of his master plan, it seemed.
And then, as if on cue, the scene transitioned to Rayden joining us on stage. Clad in a sleek black tuxedo, he looked like he'd just walked out of a James Bond movie. Smooth operator alert.
"The second rose advancing to the final round is…" Marion's voice seemed to echo in slow motion, drawing out the suspense. It was like watching a sloth race – you knew the finish line was near, but boy, was it taking its sweet time.
"Sylvia!" Marion announced with a flourish, drawing out the name for maximum effect. The arena erupted in cheers once again, as though a horde of excited penguins had suddenly taken up residence.
And there he stood, Rayden, sandwiched between the two of us like a sidekick trying to keep up with superhero shenanigans. I had to stifle a giggle at the absurdity of it all. Amidst the tension, the stage lights, and the competition, it hit me – this was a real-life soap opera, complete with dramatic music, plot twists, and love triangles that had us all going, "Wait, what?"
As the rollercoaster of the show reached its climax, a reel of the season's highlights played on the screens, capturing our most cringe-worthy, heartfelt, and downright hilarious moments. It was like reliving a wild rollercoaster ride on a small screen – and boy, was it one heck of a journey.
And so, there I stood, caught between the laughter and the nerves, ready to face whatever hilarious plot twists were coming my way. Was I trapped in a reality TV comedy-drama? Was this my destiny, my claim to fame? Or was it just one big cosmic joke, leaving me wondering if I should have packed more snacks for this wild ride? Only time would tell, and if there was one thing I'd learned, it was to buckle up and enjoy the crazy adventure. After all, who needs a sitcom when you've got reality TV?
***
Just like in the previous seasons, which Meg used to talk about as a superfan of the show, before The One, Rayden, made his choice, there was a chance for the two remaining roses to dance. In the traditional last dance of LOVESTRUCK, unexpected things often happened. Here, the man's decision could change within thirty seconds.
Given Rayden's demeanor, it seemed that changing his mind would be an uphill battle. I knew what kind of person he was. He was as resolute as a mountain in his decision-making. His words were like unbreakable locks.
My train of thought was abruptly interrupted as the show's musical scoring returned. The Love Line cut short as the show resumed its broadcast after a few minutes of commercials. We were still standing on opposite sides of the stage, while Rayden prepared for the traditional last dance. His makeup artists had left, and the director called for the final take once again.
As the show returned to the airwaves, the orchestra started playing the song "How Does a Moment Last Forever" by Celine Dion from 'Beauty and the Beast'. My knees started to wobble, and it felt like my heart was trying to synchronize with the melody.
Minutes turn to hours, days to years and gone
But when all else has been forgotten
Still our song lives on
Maybe some moments weren't so perfect
Maybe some memories not so sweet
But we have to know some bad times
Or are lives are incomplete
Then when the shadows overtake us
Just when we feel all hope is gone
We'll hear our song and know once more
Our love lives on
I felt like all my strength vanished when Rayden took my hand and gently squeezed it, signaling for us to dance. "Sidney?"
I gave a slight bow and willingly complied, locking eyes with him. He saw my longing, and I could see the pain in his eyes.
I involuntarily straightened up when he placed his right palm on my waist. Then he held my right hand with his left. He tried to smile, but bitterness seemed to overpower the attempt.
He sighed, a deep and profound exhale that made me conclude he was in a terrible turmoil. He took a few more deep breaths before he spoke. "I wish this was the wedding dance of the groom and bride. I wish all my fantasies were real. You, me... us." He lowered his head slightly, concealing his tear-filled eyes.
"Rayden," I uttered, my voice slightly shaky. Seeing him like this hurt more than I expected. No matter what had happened, I still loved him. I truly loved him.
"Please don't. Please. Every time... every time you call my name, everything changes. How I see the world, my view of happiness and love, all of it." He chuckled bitterly. He tightened his grip around my waist.
A single tear traced its path down my left cheek as I looked at him.
"Right before I met you, everything was set in this show. Sylvia, me, and the wedding. The only way I could salvage my family's fortune was through that wedding. But then..." he turned his face away from me, as if unable to voice the emotions within him. It was like he was about to explode. But then he continued, "b-but then I met you. That was the first time I was afraid of what I felt. But because I enjoyed the feeling of being with you, I took a chance. B-because I thought I could fight for you and disregard everything else."
His last words caught me off guard. So, I asked, "why can't you?"
"Things aren't ready yet, Sid. All I ask of you is to understand the situation and give me some time. Please?"
I felt like my ears were ringing from his words. I nodded repeatedly because I truly understood the situation. Everything needed to be sorted out before we could move forward.
It's his call. I had no right to complain. But who's enduring more pain? Him. So, I had to stand still and offer him all the support he needed.
It's easy to say, but damn, why did it still hurt so much? I was prepared for this. To leave in tears. He had explained everything, and the truth hurt. It hurt a lot.
Why did it feel like the opportunity defeated me? Like no matter what I did, I couldn't win because the problem was too colossal and beyond my control. I felt like a massive loser, helpless.
"Sylvia is not pregnant, Sid. Believe me, nothing happened between us. All I ask of you now is to walk out on me. For the second time. It will make things easier. For us," Rayden said, then he let go of me and took a step toward Sylvia.
"Walk out on you? Seriously?" I blurted out, my voice hitting a pitch only dogs could hear. Confusion slapped me across the face like a wet fish.
Rayden, looking like a deer caught in headlights, responded with all the eloquence of a tongue-tied teenager, "I'm doing this for us, Sidney."
"For us?" I managed to croak out, my eyebrows attempting to merge into a unibrow out of sheer bewilderment. Our eyes locked, his like a lost puppy's and mine like... well, like a girl who's being served a plate of scrambled brain for breakfast.
His next move was straight out of a cheesy romance novel. He sighed. A dramatic, "I'm about to reveal my deep dark secret" kind of sigh. The kind that might've sent chills down my spine if I wasn't too busy wondering if I'd left the stove on.
And then, just like in a soap opera, he pressed on, "My parents knew you're Vicente Raguindin's daughter."
Hold the phone, rewind the tape, freeze the moment – whatever cheesy metaphor you want, it all applies here. I stared at him, my jaw hanging lower than a playground swing. It felt like someone had replaced my brain with a deflated balloon.
"You knew..."
Rayden nodded, his eyes saying, "Yeah."
I watched in disbelief, my eyes widening like saucers, as if they were trying to escape their sockets. My heart hammered against my ribs like a caged bird, frantic and desperate for freedom. The shock surged through me like an electric current, rendering me momentarily immobile.
My mind was a chaotic whirlwind, thoughts colliding like bumper cars at a fair. I couldn't process what I was seeing, couldn't comprehend the reality unfolding before me. It was like a surreal dream, and I desperately wanted to wake up.
A gasp escaped my lips, an involuntary reaction to the overwhelming shock that had seized me. I felt a chill run down my spine, as if icy fingers were tracing a path of disbelief along my back. My hands trembled at my sides, fingers curling into fists as if trying to ground me in this disorienting moment.
"Just recently? Are you kidding me?" My voice was inching towards a high-pitched shriek. I had all the grace of a flamingo on roller skates.
"Your father and my family had a regrettable history," he continued, and I swear I saw tumbleweeds roll across my brain. "They made way to let you into the game show."
The muscles in my face contorted, my eyebrows furrowing as I struggled to make sense of it all. My mouth hung slightly open, caught in a frozen half-sentence, the words that were forming in my mind stuck in a loop of astonishment.
Emotions ricocheted within me like a pinball, bouncing from confusion to disbelief, then settling into a strange mix of shock and awe. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering between the comfort of familiarity and the abyss of the unknown.
I blinked. Twice. Like a startled owl that had just seen its reflection in broad daylight. My mind raced to connect the dots, but it felt like I was trying to assemble a puzzle made of transparent pieces in the dark.
"You mean they're using me as bait for my own father?" My voice might have reached a frequency only dolphins could decipher. Panic and humiliation made themselves at home on my face.
Rayden held his ground, sporting an expression that said, "Yep, I just dumped a truckload of plot twists on you. Deal with it."
"I'll tell you more later, but for now, walk away from me. Please?" His request sounded like a plea from a character in a telenovela.
And then I was left standing there, feeling like a lost sock in the laundry of life. The audience, well, they were probably debating whether this was a soap opera or a hidden camera prank. Someone might've even muttered, "I paid for a romantic comedy, not a psychological thriller!"
With a confused expression that could rival a puzzled poodle's, I watched Rayden stroll away, hand in hand with the she-devil Sylvia. I was stuck in the world's most confusing episode of 'Love on the Rocks.'
The crowd, still on the fence between gasps and nervous giggles, looked like they were at a tennis match, heads swiveling between me and the retreating pair.
My mind was a circus. Elephants of disbelief marched alongside clowns of confusion while a troupe of acrobats somersaulted through waves of embarrassment.
And as I stood there, lost in the vortex of shock, I realized that sometimes reality has a way of sucker-punching you when you least expect it. The mask of normalcy had slipped, revealing a truth that I was unprepared to face. And in that moment, I was a mere witness to the crumbling of the illusions I had held dear.
Yet, in the midst of this chaotic comedy, Rayden's last words echoed. "It will make things easier... for us." Maybe this whole circus wasn't meant for me. Maybe my role in this romantic comedy was actually a stand-up routine. And as I stood there, abandoned, amidst laughter and applause, I realized that comedy and heartache aren't all that different.