priorities-2

47

Our next trial is different. Our competition is halved and we are now placed ingroups of five. We are given a practice room for eight hours, one song, two meals, nosleep. Each part is fairly even and we are guaranteed to argue and get on each other'snerves. It makes for good television. 

We walk down the hall together like any pop band would. Take the elevatorquietly, fist bumping each other for good luck. We take our mark on the X and assignone person to speak to the judges unless they address us individually. Nobody is askedany questions. They announce our group name and wait for the music to begin. Ourharmony is bang on but I'm not happy with my mini solo. I think I'm pitchy.We await as the judges discuss our performance and hold up pictures of us andgroup them accordingly. Three people are asked to step forward. I'm not one of them.My journey's ended, scrunching my eyes for a fraction of a second longer than a blinkbefore I brace myself. Me and the guy who haven't been called are clutching each other'shand. We know it's the end of the road for us.

Slasher says quietly, "The one's who've stepped forward, you can go home." Meand the other guy look in shock confirming to each other in the pandemonium that we'reactually are the one's who've made it through to the next round. We embrace each otheras the others have already walked away. After today, they too will never be seen ontelevision again and because their background story isn't interesting enough, they don'tget the four minute interview before being cast off. That's it for them. I want to run afterthem and tell them they weren't better than me, but I don't.Leonardo drives me home and he's glowing with pride, "I wish John could see you,"he says excitedly."Me too," I admit."Do you want to pick up something to eat?" he offers."No, I'd rather just order in," I tell him. The rest of the drive I think about Slasher,I'm still surprised he's a judge and wonder if he caught on to me being pitchy and hadthe judges push me through or not. I decide to text him, asking him if he's giving me anysort of favouritism. He denies it completely which makes me feel better because I would never want to win just based on knowing certain people, I only want to win if I havetalent."Who are you texting?" Leonardo asks shifting the car in park."Slasher, I was just wondering if he's treating me differently, you know, because Iwas dating him.""You could have asked me," Leonardo says, "you're the best one there, he's nottreating you differently, but I'm guessing he's still in love with you." ."You think so?" I doubt Leonardo 's intuition is correct when he can have anyone hewants.

I think he transports to another time when he listens to you. the way I do. Thingsused to be so much simpler before," Leonardo says wistfully, "When I was with Carrieand there was nobody else in the picture.""She's still in love with you, even though she doesn't know it," I tell him, "You'llget your family back one day, I just don't know when.""I wish I was as optimistic as you," he says sounding sad. We get out of the car andwalk to his place holding hands in an unromantic friendly sort of way. We are eachothers biggest supporters. When we get upstairs, we order our favourite Greek food. Igive Leonardo all my olives, because I hate them and we drink wine until we're feelingwarm and fuzzy. 

I worry about Leonardo , he's taken time off from Hockey to sort through variousissues, but deep down, I think he's done it for me. The team keeps calling him, wantinghim back, but he's not answering the phone. He says he wants to be there for me, but Iknow there's something else that's keeping him off the ice, I don't know if it's losingJohn, his desire to have Carrie and Holly with him as a family. He doesn't say much andI'm worried about him too. 

He's pouring the last of the second bottle of wine into his glass when I caution him,"Don't get too drunk." He looks at me and I feel like a roasted turkey dinner with all thefixings to a starved person. I better get out before it's too late and we do something we'llregret, "I think I'm going to call it a night," I yawn."Wait," he says stopping me. He hesitates. He wants to say something but he'sfrozen.I look at him but he doesn't continue. There's a knock on the door. We look at itand then each other. Neither of us are expecting anyone. Leonardo advances towards it, and opens it without looking through the peephole. It's Slasher. I'm taken aback. Iwonder how he's found me but I remember the application for the show, we had to putour address on it, it would be easy for him of all people to find my whereabouts. Leonardo 's mood drops further, I can tell by his facial expression. He invites Slasherin merely opening the door more for him, and turns to go to his room, "You don't have toleave us," I encourage.

Let him go," Slasher orders me. Leonardo goes to his room and I feel bad, but my curiosity for Slasher's visit, trumps my concern for Leonardo, "What are you doing here?" I ask losing my breath as my blood heats up just by his proximity alone. "Stop feeling guilty," Slasher's referring to John's death, "it's not your fault." His words gut me and I begin breaking down, because it's so easy for him to say but he doesn't know how I feel. I can't even describe it. "You belong with me, you always have." Our eyes lock, he has no idea the magnitude of sadness or love I have for John, I cling to it not ready to ride waves of guilt that comes from being with Slasher. I think of the competition, how this visit could jeopardize the legitimacy of possibly winning, "You better go," I encourage. "Maybe we can talk later, when this is all over."

He looks forlorn, "I'd like that."I see him to the door. It's been an emotional night, I'm glad Holly's grandfathertook her for the few days he's had her. Brandon comes out of his room and looks at mewondering what happened and why Slasher left so soon. He didn't have to ask or sayanything, I can read his thoughts. "Will you," I ask, not finishing my sentence. He knowswhat I'm going to ask. I want him to lay down next to me until I fall asleep and then hesneaks back into his room. It's a ritual we've done on the tough nights, when one or bothof us aren't doing well. Tonight it's both of us."Sure," he responds, following me into my room. We snuggle until I fall asleep andthen he sneaks out. I hear him, but don't stop him, I'm afraid if he know's I'm stillawake, we might do something I'll regret.