Page 28 of Playing With My Heart Strings

“I guess we’re about to find out,” I mutter as we all turn our attention to him.

He clears his throat. “Ladies. If I call your name, please come with me to the stage.” Stress radiates off some of the girls in the palpable silence. “Jordan.”

Her jaw drops and her shoulders fall as she prepares herself to go. I hadn’t interacted with her at all in the past week, so I wouldn’t know what her connection is like, but clearly it wasn’t as strong as some of the others here.

“Kelsie. Morgan.” The producer rattles off the remaining names, and after they leave, several girls let out a collective sigh.

“What do you think they’ll have to do to try to get saved?” Abigail, a petite girl with mousy hair and a sweet Southern accent, asks, her voice hardly above a whisper.

“No idea,” Valerie answers.

Although the rest of us are guaranteed the next week in the competition, the anxious energy in the room doesn’t disappear. Some of the women here became friends with a couple of the girls who are at risk, even in the short time we’ve had together so far.

I try not to think about what’s going on or who’s leaving as I close my eyes and take deep breaths, in and out.

The twenty or so minutes that we spend waiting feel like hours. But then the door opens and one girl returns. Jordan.

Jade squeals and runs over to hug her.

“What did you have to do?”

“Was Dusty there?”

“Did you get any explanations for why you were at risk of being eliminated?”

Jordan recoils as questions are fired at her, everyone crowding her more and more. Her face pales into a ghastly white, and that’s when I realize she’s about to pass out.

“Move!” I push one of the girls aside, trying to get to Jordan.

“Oh my God!” The others realize what’s happening and back up to give her space.

“Someone go get a producer,” I order, and Abigail slips out. “Hey, Jordan, can you hear me?” I ask, and she nods. “Okay, we need to get you sitting somewhere. Can you walk over to the couch?”

She nods again, and I help her walk over to the sectional just a few feet away. The rest of the group disperses and goes back to what they were doing before Jordan came in.

“I don’t know what happened there. I think there was just too much excitement and everyone crowded around me at once.” She gives me an embarrassed look.

“It happens. And you just went through what was probably a stressful experience.”

She huffs and then lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either, you know? We were really just being judged based on how the producers edited the show. They didn’t have us do anything out there, we basically just had to watch as the votes came in.”

Interesting.

“It was really hard on the other girls. I mean, I was lucky. I don’t know if they just did that because it was week one. I at least thought it would be based on our musical talent and how strong we felt our connection was, not just what was broadcasted ontelevision. I mean, I don’t know about you guys, but our group date had absolutely nothing to do with music.”

“Ours didn’t either, and neither did Katherine’s solo date. But you’re right, that does seem odd. I also thought they’d have you sing or dosomething.” I try to wrap my head around the idea that the producers are only letting people vote based on what they see on a fabricated TV show. I make a mental note to ask Daniella about it.

“I hope it’s different moving forward. It was hard having to watch votes come in and see how much viewers disliked you.” She cradles her head in her hands.

“Just try to relax,” I encourage. “I know it’s easier said than done, but you made it this week. That’s a good thing.”

“Thanks…” she trails off, like she can’t remember my name. I don’t discredit her for that; it’s been a whirlwind of a week, and even though there’s only ten—well, eight, now—girls here, we didn’t have a lot of interaction with each other if we weren’t on the same dates.

“Baylor,” I offer, and she gives me a look of gratitude.

Abigail comes back with a producer, and they start asking Jordan questions to see if she needs medical attention so I get up to stay out of their way.

About thirty minutes later, we’re given the okay to leave the briefing room and head back to the hotel.

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