By the end of the week, the tension was sharp enough to slice through breakfast.
Nobody laughed anymore.
Nobody asked how anyone slept.
Even the eggs tasted like secrets.
Ren sat on the patio couch, staring out at the fake garden. The producers had created a world that looked perfect — flowers in bloom, filtered sunlight, no weeds.
Just like the girls.
And just like them, it was all artificial underneath.
The screen inside flickered to life.
"Audience Voting Now Open!"
Names flashed across the screen.
Emily – 74%Brooke – 68%Vanessa – 92%Ivy – 39%Naomi – 55%Riley – 64%Zoe – 47%
No explanations. No mercy.
Ivy stared at her score in silence.
Emily offered a weak smile. Ivy didn't take it.
Later, during lunch prep, Naomi quietly cornered Vanessa near the spice rack.
"You rigged the vote."
Vanessa looked amused. "Me?"
"You've been messaging fan accounts through backchannels. You were trending in under two hours."
Vanessa smiled wider.
"Popularity is a skill, Naomi. Not my fault you're… boring."
Naomi's grip on the pepper jar tightened. "Watch yourself."
Vanessa leaned in, voice smooth.
"You should worry less about me, and more about Ivy. She's the one they're pushing out."
That night, Ivy's medication was missing.
She didn't mention it. Just looked… faded. Detached.
Ren found her curled up in the reading room, hugging her knees.
"Ivy," he said softly. "You okay?"
She didn't answer.
Just whispered, "I think they want me gone."
And something about the way she said it…
...it didn't sound like fear.
It sounded like certainty.