The Playground - 8. Mafia

Soon after having lunch the next day, the five remaining contestants found themselves down in the gaming room – but not by choice. They were all told to gather down there, as the new round of games was about to start. Much like the last time they competed there, the room was arranged so that the center space was cleared out, while the camera crew was all set up against the far wall, ready to begin shooting. Unlike the last time, the center area contained five beanbags, one for each contestant.

Even though everyone tried to start a conversation or crack a joke, there was a noticeable difference in the atmosphere now that only five people were left. It was only half of the original number, and the emptiness made everyone realize things were getting serious. This time tomorrow, there would be only four people remaining and they would be competing in the finals. This was the fact that loomed on everyone’s mind like a dark cloud about to break into a storm. No one wanted to be the unlucky person who would leave today and miss out on the chance to compete in the finals and be crowned the victor.

“Ugh, I hope it’s not those surprise games again!” Tiffany groaned as she saw the familiar set-up in the gaming room. “That was so stressful.”

“I doubt they would repeat the same thing,” Kelly mused. “I think it’s gonna be something even harder. I mean, it’s the semi-finals, right? It only makes sense.”

“Whatever it is, bring it on,” Eric chimed in with his usual bravado that had everyone rolling their eyes.

“You do know chances are one in five you’ll be going home today?” Marcus asked.

“Yeah, and I like those odds,” the quarterback nodded, feeling confident.

Samson, who stood as far away from Kelly as possible, was the first to notice Nicholas Stone enter the room. “Nicholas, we thought you’d forgotten about us!”

“Never! How could I forget when I’ve bet a thousand dollars on one of you to win tomorrow – I won’t say who, though,” the host replied with an exaggerated wink as he moved to the center of the room. “Just don’t tell the network – apparently, it’s against the rules, blah blah…”

“We won’t tell a soul,” Tiffany mimed zipping her lips. “Now please, put us out of our misery! What are we doing here?”

“I’m glad you asked, Tiffany, because today, I’m going to make you an offer that you can’t refuse,” Nicholas looked at each of the contestants straight in the eyes, standing tall in his black suit with a white button-down underneath, and a black bowtie around his neck. “Ladies and gentlemen, today we are playing Mafia.”

“My kind of game,” Marcus rubbed his hands together, looking around roguishly. He considered himself great at mind games and couldn’t wait to spring into action. After cunningly tricking Kelly at yesterday’s dinner party, he now had another chance to show how good he was. And after narrowly escaping elimination a few days ago, he had no intention of losing now. Perhaps the others didn’t see him as a potential frontrunner, but he would prove them all wrong.

Tiffany, on the other hand, was less enthusiastic. She seemed unimpressed, looking at the host as if he had just told her she had to do everyone’s laundry.

“Today, we’ll play a series of games, but before we start that, you’ll all go outside one by one to receive your role. You’ll either be a Citizen or the Mafia. Whoever is chosen to be the Mafia will have a special mission to complete. When all the games are finished, you’ll have to vote on who you think the Mafia is. Let’s see how good everyone’s poker face is!” Nicholas briefly explained the rules. “Eric, you’re up first. Please go outside to receive your role.”

Looking hyped up, the athlete practically hopped out of the room and into the hall outside. A crew member was sitting in a chair, holding several small cards, while another stood nearby with a camera and recording.

“Eric, what would you like to be? A Citizen or the Mafia?” the woman with the cards asked.

“I get to choose?!”

“No, I’m just asking to see what’s on your mind.”

“Ah, man, why you gotta set me up like that?” Eric looked disappointed. “Then, I don’t know, whatever you give me, I’ll make it work.”

“Alright then. Here’s your role,” she handed him a card, which he promptly turned over and read.

With a nod and a smile, the man returned to the room only to instantly get bombarded with comments from others.

“Guys, look out, here comes Mr. Mafia!” Marcus shouted, pointing at the athlete.

“Blink twice if they gave you a secret mission,” Kelly joined in.

“Look at that smile,” Samson provoked him. “He’s definitely the Mafia!”

Eric didn’t let the taunting get to him. He walked up with confidence and stood in the middle of the group as if wearing a magic suit of armor that deflected all the remarks the others threw at him.

“Ahh, it must be killing you guys not knowing what I am,” he laughed. “I love to see it!”

As per Nicholas’ instructions, Tiffany was next to go out and find out what she would be playing as. Minutes later, all of the contestants had a role assigned to them, and the first game of the day could finally begin. Everyone claimed a beanbag and made themselves comfortable, while a couple of crew members brought them various types of drinks for refreshment - water, soda, and a few cans of ice tea.

“Alright, now that we’ve got the roles all sorted out, and you’re all hydrated, it’s time to play! Let’s see if you’ll be off to a flying start or crash and burn in our first game. That’s right, you’ll be making paper planes. The rules are simple - whoever’s flies the longest distance wins,” Nicholas explained. “But, as you probably could’ve guessed, there’s a twist. You’ll all be making your planes from different types of paper.”

“Do I even dare to ask?” Samson was the first to react. “Just don’t make us make planes from a postage stamp or something. Even you are not that cruel, Nicholas.”

“Indeed I’m not,” the host replied with an enigmatic smirk. “You’ll each find your paper in an envelope under your beanbag.”

“Oh for fu-” Tiffany barely stopped herself from swearing as she got up from her seat. She grabbed the beanbag and lifted it up, revealing an orange envelope on the floor underneath it. “I swear I’m never sitting anywhere in this Mansion again!”

The girl scrambled to open the envelope, her eyes popping wide as she pulled out a white napkin.

“Are you serious? How am I supposed to make a plane out of this?”

“Looks like Lady Luck wasn’t on your side this time, Tiffany,” the host shrugged.

Eric and Marcus looked quite pleased with their own finds, as the quarterback pulled out a plain piece of A4 paper from his envelope, while the dancer found a newspaper sheet.

Samson, on the other hand, wasn’t sure how to feel. “Cardboard?! I guess it’ll be sturdy at least.”

“What kind of paper is this?!” Kelly shook her own sheet loudly, holding it up for everyone to see.

Everyone turned to look at the thin, almost translucent sheet of paper in her hand. They all seemed stumped, as if looking at a strange alien artefact that dropped from the sky.

Marcus curiously walked over to take a look before rolling his eyes at Kelly.

“Seriously? It’s parchment paper!”

“Oh… So what the hell is that?” the singer was still confused, eyes darting between the dancer and the paper in her hand.

“Girl, it’s used for baking. Have you never baked cookies or something?”

“Do I look like I cook my own food?”

“Well… Good luck,” Marcus just laughed before walking back to his spot and starting to work on his plane. He easily started folding the newspaper with expert precision, already having a head start on his competition.

“Wow, were you practicing or something?” Samson looked over, impressed with the dancer’s plane making skills. “You’re good at this!”

“Thanks. And yeah, I had a lot of practice. My family wasn’t really well-off when I was a kid, so my brother and I had to make our own fun. Our parents couldn’t buy us expensive toys or game consoles, so we just played with whatever we could find. Let’s just say we’re both pretty much experts at making paper planes at this point,” Marcus explained without ever taking his eyes off his piece of paper. Soon enough, he was already finished with his innovative plane, lifting it up to show it off.

Tiffany didn’t seem to have such a good time, as her napkin was too soft to do anything with.

“Ugh, this is so unfair!” the girl whined, throwing the napkin on the floor in a fit of rage. She then looked up to see Eric approaching her. “And don’t you dare say that thing about the master and his tools or whatever!”

“I was just gonna check how you’re getting along,” the man chuckled, glancing over at the definitely-not-plane-shaped napkin discarded on the floor.

“Not that good,” the girl frowned. “But whatever, it’s only one game. I can’t have crap luck in all of them, right?”

“Let’s hope so,” the quarterback replied. He returned to his beanbag, but as he sat down, he knocked over a nearby water bottle, spilling the liquid all over his plane.

“Oh, shit!”

Bolting up, he quickly grabbed the plane off the floor to inspect it, only to come to the sad realization that it was almost completely soaked.

“Fuck, what am I supposed to do now?” he lamented his ruined plane, carefully cradling it in his big hands. But his desperation quickly turned to anger as he looked around. “Who left this water here?”

“Hey, don’t look at me,” Kelly shot him an indignant glare, offended that he would even think of looking at her. “Isn’t that your own water?”

Marcus and Tiffany shrugged almost in unison, while Samson seemed too busy still working on his own model.

“Maybe this isn’t gonna go as easily as I thought. You can’t make shit from cardboard, it’s too thick for this!” Samson muttered, hopelessly trying to fold his cardboard into the right shape. Finally, the singer abandoned the idea of making the traditional paper plane, deciding to simply fold the cardboard a few times, making something that could barely be even called a plane.

Kelly seemed to be having her own troubles. Even though her parchment paper was much more foldable, it was still too flimsy.

“The time is up! I hope you’ve finished your creations, because it’s time to fly them!” Nicholas spoke up, interrupting the group. “Everyone please step up to this line and on my signal throw your planes. Ready? Three… two… one. Go!”

To no one’s surprise, Eric’s wet plane and Tiffany’s shapeless napkin flopped down to the floor immediately. Samson’s and Kelly’s attempts were more successful, managing to fly a short distance before crashing down. On the other hand, Marcus’ plane might as well have been a Boeing 747. It zoomed past everyone else’s and flew almost all the way to the other end of the room.

“Yess!” the dancer did a fist-pump as he tracked his plane’s movement with his eyes.

“Wow, what a photo finish. I think we’ll need to check the slow-mo cameras for this one,” Nicholas said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Congratulations, Marcus, you’ve aced the first game. Tough luck for the rest of you. You’ll have to work harder to catch up!”

“Well, I would’ve done better if the Mafia didn’t soak my plane,” Eric complained, eyeing the other four.

“So then you’re the Mafia? Because you spilled the water yourself,” Marcus retorted.

“Yeah, I sabotaged myself. Damn you’re smart, man! Funny how you had such an easy win, but my plane, which was the only one that could’ve competed with yours, got destroyed. Totally not suspicious at all.”

“And what if you’re the one trying to cause drama on purpose?” Kelly chimed in.

“You should talk about causing drama,” Eric leveled her with a glare, quickly shutting her up.

After the spilled water was cleaned and the planes were taken away, Nicholas was quick to announce the next activity.

“If you weren’t a fan of our first game, here’s something a little sweeter. It’s time to see who has the biggest mouth. And I mean that literally,” the host said as a group of crew members brought in five plates with candy in different colors. “For the second challenge, you have to fit as many pieces of candy in your mouth as you can.”

“Now we’re talking!” Tiffany rubbed her hands, already eyeing a plate with red candy. She popped one in her mouth, then quickly grabbed the plate for herself. “Mmm, raspberry!”

Marcus got his hands on the lemon-flavored ones, while Eric took the plate with the chocolate candy. Before Kelly could even react, Samson snatched the plate with orange-flavored ones, leaving only pink-colored ones for the other singer.

Tiffany volunteered to go first, and soon everyone’s eyes were on her as she put one piece of candy after another in her mouth.

“And no swallowing!” Samson warned her, causing the others to snicker like children.

Tiffany could barely keep herself from laughing, spitting out a few pieces of candy in the process. She quickly put a hand over her mouth, trying to calm down. When she did, she added a few more, her cheeks full like a squirrel holding her entire winter supply of nuts.

“That was sixteen,” Samson said, having counted the entire time. The rest of the group agreed, and Tiffany turned her back so she could spit all the candy out without the others watching her.

“Eww, I don’t think I’m gonna eat this after all,” she said, pushing the plate of sticky, spit-covered sweets away.

Marcus was next. He took a piece of candy and brought it to his mouth, but then stopped. “I don’t wanna hear a word!” he warned the rest before continuing with his mission. One by one, he popped the sweets into his mouth until he couldn’t anymore.

“Twenty,” Eric and Kelly spoke at the same time.

Tiffany deflated a little, while Samson eyed his plate with apprehension. He was the next to go.

“Come on, Samson, let’s see how much you can fit in your mouth,” Eric looked as if he’d been waiting all day for an opportunity to say that.

Even though his mouth was already half-full, it was clear Samson was smiling. He kept shoving candy into his mouth while the others counted. To his disappointment, he could only manage nineteen before giving up.

After the disaster in the first game, Eric suddenly looked much more eager to play. He started quickly popping the candy in his mouth, looking like he would never stop. Others watched with their mouths open, wondering just how many pieces the big guy would be able to take.

“Twenty-six!” Tiffany announced loudly.

Unable to take anymore, the quarterback started chewing, attempting to eat all the candy in his mouth.

“Eww, you’re actually going to eat all that?” the TV starlet suddenly didn’t seem that impressed anymore.

Eric simply shrugged and kept chewing as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Anyway… Kelly, you’re next,” Samson said, but the girl just pursed her lips and shook her head.

“I’m not doing it,” she pushed the plate away from her. “I’ll pass on this game.”

“What? Why?” Marcus asked.

“She must be the Mafia,” Samson said before she could even respond. Everyone suddenly looked at him, waiting for an explanation. “She’s refusing to play. If that’s not suspicious, I don’t know what is.”

“No, these are watermelon-flavored, so I’m not eating that. It’s disgusting,” she replied, although Samson remained unconvinced.

“I don’t know, that’s kind of a flimsy excuse,” Eric spoke, his mouth still half full.

“Oh please, you’re just trying to shift the focus from you onto me. Or maybe Samson’s the Mafia, since he couldn’t wait to accuse me!”

“Or maybe it’s Marcus. He was the one who-” Eric spoke up again before the dancer cut him off.

“Oh my God, just because I’m good at paper planes, doesn’t mean I’m the Mafia!”

“Guys, what is even the point? It’s not like anyone is gonna just admit to it,” Tiffany interrupted them, trying to be a voice of reason.

After letting them argue for a while, Nicholas took to officially announce the winner of game two. “Kelly, if you don’t want to participate, we can’t make you. Eric, congratulations, you’re the winner of this challenge.”

Minutes flew by as the contestants played more challenges, to varying degrees of success.

Finally, the time came for the last game.

“And now, let’s see how good you are with your fingers,” the host said as two young men wheeled over a small table with a large covered box on it. “You’ll be playing this game in pairs. Your task is to guess the item in the box by sticking your hand through the opening and inspecting it with your fingers. Samson and Tiffany, you’re up first. You have one minute.”

While Samson casually got up and walked over to the table, Tiffany seemed more reluctant.

“Please tell me there’s no live animals in there?” she looked squeamishly at the box. “I’m not touching any worms or anything gross like that.”

“Tiffany, I promise, there are no live - or dead - animals in the box,” Nicholas said.

“Ok…” the girl nodded, still unsure.

“Come on, I’ll put my hand in first if you want,” the singer offered, proceeding to stick a hand through the opening on one side of the box.

Encouraged by this, Tiffany followed suit, slowly putting her left hand in through the other side.

“Ok, here we go-ooohh my God, what was that?!” she screamed, snatching her hand out as quickly as she could. “It moved!”

Watching from the sidelines, Eric and Kelly were already laughing out loud.

“It’s not funny, guys! I’m telling you, it moved! Must be some weird, evil… thingy!” Tiffany was panicking, stepping away from the box as if it were a bomb. “I’m not putting my hand back in there, I don’t care.”

“Samson doesn’t seem scared,” Eric noticed.

“I mean, it does seem like it’s wobbling, but it’s not like it’s gonna chew my hand off,” the singer replied, hand still in the box. “It’s kinda springy… Is it… Is it jello?”

The box was uncovered, revealing a plate of red jello sitting in the middle. Everyone laughed except Tiffany, who looked at the offending dessert completely unimpressed.

“Careful, Tiff, the evil jello is coming to get you!” Kelly took a jab as she and Eric went over to guess their item.

As neither of the two were afraid, they promptly put their hands in and started exploring. It was immediately clear to both of them the item was soft and spongy.

“Feels like… like a sponge,” Eric mumbled, unsure. “Is it a sponge for washing dishes?”

“No, to me it feels more like… a big hair tie?” Kelly guessed. “Wait, how many guesses do we have?”

“As many as you want, but you only have one minute,” Nicholas reminded them. “And no, it’s neither of the two.”

“Could be anything… Feels like it’s got holes,” the quarterback noticed.

“Oh, I think I know! It’s pantyhose!”

“It is not pantyhose either,” Nicholas said. “And, I’m afraid your time is up.”

Both contestants frowned when the covering was removed and they saw a bright red shower loofah in the box.

“I should’ve guessed that,” Kelly said, annoyed at herself for not figuring out what now seemed like such an obvious item.

“Yes, you should’ve,” Eric was more than happy to shift all the blame to her.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t counting on you to help anyway,” the girl shot back before returning to her seat.

“Tiffany, since you didn’t get a proper chance in the first round, you can go again with Marcus,” the host said.

“Alright, I can do this,” she replied, trying to steel herself.

“You got this, Tiff. Come on,” the dancer said as the pair approached the table and put their hands in the box. Whatever the item was, it was soft and sticky to the touch.

“Ugh,” Tiffany’s first reaction was that of disgust, but she seemed to quickly realize the item could be some type of food again. “What do you think, babe? Some food?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking it’s some kind of pastry. Maybe a donut or something with glazing on top.”

The box was revealed, showing several spiral-shaped pastries covered with fruit glazing.

“Congratulations, you guessed it. You’re free to-”

Without waiting for Nicholas to finish his sentence, the pair was already munching on their reward, moaning with satisfaction as they did.

With the last game of the day over, it was finally time to move on to the main part. All of the contestants went back to their beanbags, waiting for the host to give them further instructions.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, we’ve finished all the challenges. Now, before you cast your final votes, how are you feeling? Do you think you have any idea who the Mafia is?” the host asked. “You don’t have to say it out loud if you don’t want to. You can just write down your answer on your board.”

“I really have no clue!” Tiffany groaned. “Like, I’m completely stumped. It could be any of you. I don’t even know who to vote for!”

“I’m pretty sure it’s Kelly,” Samson pursed his lips as he observed the other singer critically, as if watching an abstract painting. “She didn’t want to participate in the candy challenge, and she didn’t guess the loofah, which should’ve been so obvious. I think she had a secret mission to not make an effort in the games.”

“That’s a good point,” Eric agreed.

“How is it a good point?” Kelly argued. “If so, then you’re just as suspicious as I am, Eric. Let’s not forget who ruined his own paper plane!”

“What do you think, Marcus?” the host asked the only person who hadn’t made a comment yet.

“I think none of you are thinking outside the box,” the dancer said. “What if they’re messing with us again? I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“What do you mean?” Tiffany asked, suddenly intrigued.

“What if there’s more than one Mafia? Or what if there’s no Mafia at all? They never said that there is exactly one person who is the Mafia.”

While Tiffany looked as if her mind had just been blown, Kelly still didn’t seem convinced.

“If anything, this just makes me more suspicious of you,” the singer pointed a finger at Marcus. “If you think you can distract us with these wild theories, guess again.”

“Why not? It’s possible. I don’t think it’s necessarily the case, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was,” Samson agreed with Marcus’ idea.

“Not buying it,” Kelly shook her head. “Also, have you noticed how none of you ever considered Tiffany? What is it that they say about the least obvious suspect?”

“Kelly, at this point you’ve accused literally all of us,” Marcus rolled his eyes. “Maybe Samson is right and it really is you.”

“Alright, it’s time to vote!” Nicholas cut their discussion short. “Think very carefully, because your place in the finals is riding on this. Now, write down your suspect on your board. Kelly, since you’ve had so many opinions to share, why don’t you show us your answer first.”

The singer lifted her board, revealing one name: Tiffany.

“Eric, let’s see your answer next.”

The athlete put up his board for everyone to see. It read - Kelly.

Samson was next, with the same answer as Eric.

Marcus stayed true to his theory, writing Kelly’s and Eric’s name on the board.

And finally, Tiffany was indecisive until the very last moment. Her own board had the words “IDK… NO MAFIA” written in big letters.

“Wow, two votes for me,” Kelly rolled her eyes at Samson and Eric. “Great job, Sherlock and Watson!”

“So, who was it?” Tiffany asked, gesturing impatiently at Nicholas. “If you tell me there was no Mafia, I’m gonna scream.”

“I’m not going to tell you,” the host replied, smiling. Just before the contestants could ask anything else, he continued. “Why don’t you all reveal your roles, one by one. Kelly, show us what your card says.”

“With pleasure,” the black-haired girl stood up, pulling out the small card from her back pocket and showing it to everyone with a smug face. “See? It says ‘Citizen’.”

“Tiffany, please go next.”

The other girl quickly fished out her own card, presenting it to everyone. Just like Kelly’s, hers also had the word ‘Citizen’ printed on it.

“Well, so much for your theory,” Tiffany cocked her head at Kelly, the only person who voted for her. “Not such a good detective either.”

Marcus was next, making a show of pulling his card out of his pocket. Once he finally did, he flipped it over as everyone watched as if entranced. However, the anticipation quickly subsided as another ‘Citizen’ was revealed.

“Samson, do us the honor, please,” the host asked.

“My pleasure, Nicholas,” the singer could barely hold back his grin as he pulled out his card.

Tiffany’s gasp overpowered everyone else’s as she read the word printed in bold, red letters: Mafia.

“It was you!”

“Guilty as charged,” Samson replied with a shameless grin. “Guys, you really need to work on your deduction skills.”

“I knew I was right to suspect you!” Kelly frowned, regretting not voting for him.

“Well, you suspected everyone,” Samson shrugged. “That’s not really an achievement, especially for a self-proclaimed detective like you.”

“And last but not least, Eric, why don’t you show us your role in all this?” the host jumped back in.

“Sure thing,” the athlete nodded, fishing out his card. “Sorry, Marcus, but your theory was wrong after all.” It was yet another ‘Citizen’ card.

“So only Samson was the Mafia,” Tiffany stated the obvious.

“Yes. And I had a secret mission to sabotage the games,” Samson finally admitted. “Sorry, gurl, but it was me who scared you when we were doing the box challenge.”

“But I felt the thing moving!”

“Yeah, I’m afraid that was my finger,” the popstar let out a laugh, wiggling his index finger in front of the girl’s face. “Also, Kelly, I grabbed the orange candy before you could because I tasted the other ones and realized it was watermelon. I remembered you said you hated it last night at dinner. And Eric, I’m sorry, but I may have moved your water bottle so you’d knock it over.”

“That was you?!... Well played, man, well played.”

“Thanks, I try,” the singer replied smugly.

“Congratulations, Samson, you’ve managed to go through undetected. But we have one more thing left to do - the elimination,” Nicholas said, moving to the center of the room. The contestants all got up and stood in a semi-circle in front of the host. “Samson, if the majority of the players had voted for you, you would’ve lost and been automatically eliminated. But since they failed, that means you win, and the power is in your hands. You get to choose who to eliminate.”

Everyone was stunned - Samson at the sudden power he received, and the others at the revelation that their fate depended on one person only.

“Are you serious?” the singer asked.

“How is this even fair?” Kelly complained, looking at others for support.

“This is The Playground, and if there’s one thing you need to know, it’s to always expect the unexpected,” Nicholas replied. “Now, Samson, I know it’s a big decision, so we’ll give you some time to de-”

“Kelly,” Samson replied before the host could even finish his thought. “I’m eliminating Kelly,” he shrugged as he turned towards the girl. The smile on his face made it clear he was not even a little sorry or hesitant about his decision.

“Alright, then,” the host spoke again. “Are you sure?”

“Yup,” Samson nodded, still shamelessly smiling at the girl while she stared daggers at him. “Byeee!” he waved at her until she turned away from him.

“Wait, are you actually serious with this?! What kind of a rule is that?” the girl turned to the host, shaking her head incredulously. She was so close to the finals, but now the chance was being snatched away from her. “So he can just eliminate me… just like that?”

“Now, Kelly, don’t be a sore loser,” Marcus said, enjoying the show. “You can still leave with some dignity. So you’re not gonna be in the finals, so what? It’s not the end of the world.”

As her gaze swept over everyone, Kelly realized she was outnumbered. She would never win, so the next best thing she could do was take Marcus’ advice and take the high road. If she was to leave, she would at least preserve some dignity and not reveal just how furious she actually was.

“Of course, it’s no big deal. I was just surprised is all,” the girl shrugged it off, attempting to sound unbothered. She could tell that no one was buying her act, but she didn’t care. “Reaching the semi-finals was great, and I’ll definitely leave with some amazing memories.”

“And so will we,” the host nodded. “Kelly, you’ve been a very strong contestant and we’ve loved having you on the show. But unfortunately, we only have room for four people in the finals, and I’m afraid your time at The Playground has come to an end. Before we leave you to go pack, who will you be rooting for tomorrow in the finals? Probably not Samson, I assume.”

“As the only remaining girl on the show, I will definitely be rooting for my girl Tiffany,” Kelly replied. “Kick their asses for me, ok?”

“I’ll try,” Tiffany nodded in return. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

***

If any of the four remaining contestants were expecting another group goodbye in front of the Mansion, their assumptions were proven wrong. As they sat in the lounge, chatting while listening to music, their peace was disturbed by an indignant Kelly approaching. The wheels of her suitcases clattered as she dragged them aggressively down the stairs and through the room.

“Whoa, where’s the fire,” Eric asked as he tracked the girl’s movement from his position on the sofa.

The singer wore a scowl deeper than the Grand Canyon as she rushed through the lounge, avoiding the others’ gazes.

“I think she might be angry,” Samson whispered, though loud enough for Kelly to hear.

“I’ll save you the trouble of seeing me off. I’m out,” she spoke without slowing down, marching straight for the door. She pushed it open, trying to make a dramatic exit, but promptly came to a halt as her luggage got stuck. No matter how much she tried to force it out, it wouldn’t go through.

“Oh come on, you piece of-”

“Need help?” Eric offered against his better judgment.

“No,” Kelly snapped, finally stopping and letting go of her stuff. With far more force then necessary, she grabbed her suitcases one by one and turned them to the side so they could fit through the door.

“So much for keeping her-”

Slam!

“-dignity,” Marcus finished his sentence, watching as the door rattled.

And just like that, Kelly was gone.

“Should I say it?” Tiffany looked around the room. “And then there were four.”

***

Samson went to bed that evening feeling surprisingly good and motivated to win. Eliminating Kelly felt great, but taking the crown the next day would be the cherry on top.

Just as he was getting ready for bed, he heard a knock on the door. While a few days ago that would have gotten him excited, now it only made him confused. Troy was not there anymore to sneak into his room at night, so who could the late night visitor be?

Light on his feet, he bounced over to the door and opened it, seeing the last person he expected - Eric.

“Hey. Mind if I come in?”

The tall, black hunk stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. Illuminated by the soft light of the bedside lamp, his skin was glowing, making him look even more attractive.

Samson really didn’t want to be caught staring, but he could hardly help it. Once he finally tore his eyes away from the athlete’s naked torso, he was met with a knowing smirk.

“Uh, yeah, come on in,” the singer replied, feeling flushed. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to chat, say thanks for getting rid of Kelly.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure, believe me!”

“I know that,” Eric nodded as he sat on the bed. He had a smug look on his face that Samson couldn’t decipher, but then again, Eric was usually like that. “Funny how things turned out just the way I wanted them to. It was much easier than I thought it’d be, especially since you all did exactly as I thought you would.”

“What do you mean?”

The smile on Eric’s face turned into a full-on grin as he stretched himself out on his back, propped on his elbows. The dirty look in his eyes made Samson nervous.

“Wanna know a little secret, Sammy? Kelly sabotaged Troy because of me.”

Samson’s face froze as he stared at the other man. “What?”

“We all know Kelly had the hots for Troy, but he blew her off for you. Well, I was the one who told her about the two of you hooking up.”

“How… how did you even know about that?”

“I saw him go to your room the other night. You guys weren’t as sneaky as you thought. It didn’t really take a genius to put two and two together,” the athlete shrugged. “And I knew Kelly would be pissed at the two of you and try to get you guys eliminated. It didn’t matter to me which one of you got kicked out first, but Troy was the one to take the fall. And then it was a piece of cake turning you against Kelly, and now she’s gone too. So yeah, things really worked out,” he finished with a deep laugh that had his entire upper body shaking.

Samson was livid. Not just because of Troy being eliminated, but because he was played for a fool. He always considered himself an excellent judge of character, and he thought Eric was a cool guy - not someone he would ever be best friends with, but a fun person to hang out with nonetheless. But now, just as he thought he had eliminated the most annoying person on the show, he was being humiliated and made to look like an idiot.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you! You’re a fucking jerk,” the singer bolted from the bed and turned to the window, refusing to even look at Eric.

“What? I’m just playing the game. Divide and conquer and all that jazz. Let's face it, Marcus was lucky to get this far, but he’s not much of a threat. And Tiffany… Well, we all know she's not winning this. But you three, you guys were tough competition. What was I supposed to do?”

“Um, maybe not be a complete asshole? Have you ever thought of that?” Samson turned back around, throwing a pillow at the quarterback, but he easily caught it before it could hit him in the face. “Get out of my bed!”

“Oh, come on, why you gotta be like that? If I knew you were gonna get mad, I wouldn’t have told you this,” Eric got up reluctantly, his mouth still quirked up in a small smile. “It’s our last night here, we could be having some fun instead of arguing. What do you say?”

“Are you kidding me?!” Samson hissed, fighting every urge not to yell and alert everyone in the Mansion. “Out of my room,” he ordered, his tone turning icy.

“Suit yourself,” Eric shrugged as he walked toward the door, turning one last time before he left the room. “Good luck tomorrow. You're gonna need it.”