The second challenge was simple.
Stack blocks while blindfolded. Fastest time wins.
Emily approached it like a therapy exercise. Ivy gave up halfway. Naomi claimed it was "beneath her."
Brooke?
Brooke crushed it in under thirty seconds.
"Finally," she said, tossing the blindfold aside. "I get my prize."
Ren stood nearby, trying not to look nervous.
The screen lit up:
WINNER: Brooke MaddoxReward: Private Date Token – Rooftop Picnic
Fifteen minutes later, Ren and Brooke sat on the rooftop lawn, a fake sunset glowing behind them, picnic basket between them. Cameras were distant. Mics hidden in the roses.
Brooke popped open a soda and raised it like a toast.
"To forced nostalgia."
Ren chuckled weakly. "I guess."
She leaned back on her hands, squinting at the sky.
"Do you really not remember anything?"
He looked down. "No. Sorry."
She didn't speak for a long time.
Then: "You used to call me firecracker."
He glanced at her.
"You'd say I was loud, short-fused, and kind of annoying. But fun when I exploded."
He smiled despite himself. "Sounds about right."
Brooke turned to him, eyes unreadable.
"You said you liked girls who made you feel alive. I thought that meant me. I thought…"
She trailed off.
He waited.
She looked away.
"…I was just your fight phase, wasn't I?"
Ren hesitated. "I don't know."
"Fair," she muttered, cracking open a second soda. "You're good at not knowing."
He didn't answer.
The sky dimmed. The cameras clicked once — a reminder.
Brooke stood up, brushed her jeans off, and said, "You didn't break me, Ren."
He looked up at her.
"But you could've."
Then she walked away — shoulders straight, back stiff, voice calm.
But Ren noticed the soda she left behind.
It was unopened. And shaking slightly.