Hi, I’m Chris. I’ve been on this show for awhile. I’m not gay.

So far, every time they’ve suspected me, I’ve had to kiss jared, shower with Brandon, and do body shots with Andy. But I’m not gay.

I’ve been pointing fingers at Shawn and Terrance throughout this week. Shawn just starts making out with Brandon— typical. They’ve had the hots for each other since day one— Terrance, however, gets pissed off and yells at me, calling me dirty name that for some reason tickle my lungs. But I’m not gay.

We’re in the last stretch of the show. I don’t relent on yelling at Terrance, saying he’s the straight one— what can I say? I need the cash— and he’s getting progressively more angry. And I can’t help, but look forward to him call me a dirty little wh**e. I get really warm thinking about it, probably because it feels like a threat to my masculinity and be angry gives me a rush.

Sometimes it feels like I don’t point him out for the cash. Like I want him to call me those names. But I’m not gay.

But in any case, tomorrow is the last day and it’s safe to say this was exciting. But I’m so totally not gay.

///////////

The day is here.

“Alright, I first want to congratulate you all with a job well done, especially for our actor,” the host chimed in his shimmering, drag Queen glory.

“Now will our gay men go to the left side of the room,” he gestured. Two couples— Brandon and Shawn, Andy and Jared— walk, followed by Terrance. Everyone was dumbfounded. Some men go to the right. It leaves me standing there because I’m not gay… right?

Terrance huffed. He whisked me away behind a wall for what seemed to be privacy.

“God, you’re an idiot!” He berates. “Do you know why I get so mad when you ignore me? When I know everyone came on here straight, and you still can’t see the fvcking signs?” He continued. He wraps a hand around my neck, gently, caressing my Adam’s apple with his thumb. I crumble slightly. But I’m not gay.

“What, Terrance? You weren’t playing for money?” I angrily asked. “At first, we all were, but then the shower with Brandon, body shots with Andy, hell, don’t get me started on kissing Jared,” he chuckled sourly, tightening his grip till I whimper. But I’m not gay

“I thought you’d realize, but dammit Noah, I love you. I love your sweetness, and I fvcking love your arms, and you’re such a fvcking brat too, and I’d thought you’d have realized by now…” he fondly continued.

Holy fuck There’s no way that

“I’m gay”

//////

“Well, I have something to confess to you all” the host shouted, but I already knew. I was only focusing on the last thing that Terrance said after we shared a tender kiss. Something that made my ‘totally not gay’ act crumble completely. Because im such a homosexual

“You are so getting it once we get behind closed doors” 😏😏 enjoy heathens

I pushed John away from me, making it clear that I wasn't going to kiss him. "Today's the last day. If we're going to kiss, it should be after the show."

"But this is our last day together. We need to have it be the best—"

I cut him off with a raise of my hand. "We're doing that with a party. There won't be any kissing until after the mole's been voted out and one of us has the money. I'll see you at the party." Turning around, I walked away. I wouldn't drink too much. That being said, I did have a good time there. Of course, complying to the rules, there wasn't any sex or anything erotic. Just a group of dudes having a good time.

Once the next day came, we stood in the voting room. This was the last chance for $12 million. The announcer called us forward.

"Tom, Clarence, Stephen, John, James, Richard, please step forward," he called, and with each name, they stepped forward. "Aaron, Carl, David, Connie, Anthony, and Kane, please step forward." I did so, and the host began his speech.

"You twelve have come here to find out who the mole is. You both split up into teams and have had one week to investigate and prepare. Now, you both have the chance to vote on whom the mole is. All votes after the discussion are final. Make your choice."

We took the tablets, selecting a person and typing a reason why. I selected John, typing that he was trying too hard to act like he was gay. When the discussion came up, most of the others changed their votes. Soon, the votes were broadcast, and I saw the scoreboard.

#1ST: JOHN CULLIGAN — 5 VOTES

#2ND: ANTHONY RUSSO — 3 VOTES

#3RD: KANE NICHOLSON — 2 VOTES

Third. That wasn't too shabby. This was our chance for $12 million for each member of the team. John stepped onto the podium, sighing. The host looked at him, sighing. "Well, John, you had a good run. Honestly, I was rooting for you. But still, rules are rules, so could you please open up your locket?"

He took his locket from the shelf and turned around, opening it in front of the camera. It was a picture of him and his wife. Straight. Our team didn't cheer, but we went over to the other team after John returned to his spot. After congratulating them for a good effort, we ended our quiet victory celebration with a handshake. John shook Anthony's hand. I shook Stephen's.

Once we returned to our spots, the host turned towards me and Anthony. "The both of you took second and third place. Could you both please open your lockets?" Anthony took his and mine down from the shelf, handing me my locket. Before he opened his, he spoke.

"I know the rules said only one straight guy and 11 gay guys, but I have to come clean. I'm bisexual. The producers actually gave me a choice between being the mole or not. And I chose to be the mole." Smiling, he opened his locket, showing him with two other women. "Married for 5 years to the both of them and we've even got babies on the way."

After he finished, I turned to him, saying "In that case, sorry to upstage you." Turning back to the camera, I opened my locket before nodding to the rest of the contestants. They took their lockets down, opening them up to show pictures of them with their fiancees, or wives, or even wives and kids. The host held back a snicker, knowing that this was a perfect April Fool's joke.

"Well, you all were the moles, but that doesn't mean none of you get the money. How does $12 million for each contestant sound?" We each agreed to that. It was a good amount of money for a joke episode.

"Mr. Goldberg, there's a problem. We can't use this footage from last night."

"What's the problem?" The producer asked.

"Talent screened these guys, right? They're all supposed to be straight and in it for the money!" Dave, the production assistant, was beside himself.

"Right."

"Chris and Javier are going off the goddamn rails!" Dave angrily tapped at his tablet and set it down on Mr. Goldberg's desk with a little too much force.

The footage was raw. Chris and Javier sat on the couch. Chris fidgeted nervously.

"I came here to get money, Javier. That was my goal. Find the straight guy, laugh all the way to the bank. But you surprised me, man. I don't wanna lose touch with you when the show's over."

"Oh yeah, no, of course not, you have my number!" Javier leaned in closer. "I wouldn't fall out of touch. You're cool, I like hanging out with you."

"Yeah, you too," Chris said. His voice trailed off.

"You good?" Javier asked.

"Look, dude. This is really weird for me. I wasn't expecting to find someone like you. You're an amazing guy. I'm falling for you."

Javier's eyes widened. He laughed. "I'm not laughing at you bro, I promise! I was just about to say the same thing is all."

They leaned in together for an awkward, hungry embrace. The camera couldn't catch what Javier whispered in Chris's ear.

"It's alright, man," Chris whispered. "We'll go slow. We'll take our time."

"See?!" Dave practically wailed.

"I'm not worried," Mr. Goldberg said. "They'll just be less likely to be pegged as the straight."

"But it takes the gimmick away!" Dave grabbed the tablet.

"It brings drama!"

"Advertisers are gonna pull out! Conservative markets are gonna hate us!"

"Our entire show is about lying and playing to stereotypes." Mr. Goldberg was calm. "We're on Bravo, we can get away with some stuff. And there's no such thing as bad publicity."

"I still think this is a mistake. Can't we get one of them off the show? Find a reason to send 'em home like Kyle?"

"Kyle was on meth. These two are in love. Let it play out, Dave. I promise you, the sky's not gonna fall just because two guys pair off on our show."

Dave rolled his eyes.

"Send me that footage. I wanna make sure editing gets it."

“I’m the straight guy.”

As we cuddled in his room, half past midnight, he’d said he had a confession to share with me, but I have to admit this was the last one I was expecting. In the moment, I could only muster one word in response:

“What?”

It didn’t seem possible. After all, I was the one straight guy on this show. Right?

When this whole gay reality show thing started, I figured the easiest way to pass as gay was to shack up with someone. That’s how I met Felix.

We spent a lot of time together since the show started – working out, playing games (“loser has to bottom!”), sitting up and talking past midnight. Being with him was… easy, I suppose. I loved hanging with him, even if the sex isn’t really my bag.

In all the time I’d known him, he always the loudest, the cheeriest, the proudest person I’d ever met. So seeing him like this – naked and afraid, fighting not to cry – was viscerally frightening in a way that’s hard to put into words.

“Look! I know it sounds stupid!” Felix said, getting up, “Especially after we’ve just done it but just… just hear me out man.”

He paused to look up at the ceiling, as if to will the tears back into his sockets.

“I don’t… you know, I was never into like, ‘gay culture’ or whatever, so I thought that the best way to not get eliminated was just to hook up with someone.” He was clearly agitated, scratching all over his arms and his neck, “At first I thought it was going to be miserable trying to fake it. But then I met you!”

Felix was beginning to speak faster. Breathe quicker. Scratch harder.

“You’re so smart, and strong, and funny,” he continued, “and we like the same shows and we play the same games. The more time we spent together the more I realized I was just being myself. The more I started to think that that maybe…I don’t know! Maybe I’m… maybe I’m not…”

Felix stopped short. He couldn’t bring himself to actually say the words. Instead, he gestured wildly with his hands, hoping to convey some meaning.

“And I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed do now! Are you going to hate me now for lying to you this whole time? Am I supposed to tell the producers about…about this? Do I have to… how am I going to…” he shuddered.

“What am I supposed to tell my parents?”

Slowly, involuntarily, Felix began to cry.

“Shit! Fuck!”

He got more agitated as the tears slipped out; so ashamed of his own weakness. I know the feeling. All men do, I think. The more he cried, the angrier he got with himself. The angrier he got, the more the tears slipped out. He started clawing away at his face. Flecks of blood came away at the nails.

“I’m such a fucking idiot! I’m such a fucking idiot…”

“Felix!” I grabbed him by the wrists, and pulled him into a hug. “C’mon man. Don’t do that to yourself! C’mon. You’re fine. Everything is going to be fine.” I just said stuff like that over and over. It felt so stupid, so “not-enough,” but what else could I do? We sat there a while. I brushed his hair, and whispered these words at him, and slowly he started to calm down.

“A-ah well, a-at least you know who the straight guy is now!” he forced a laugh to break the silence, “got your million-dollar prize or whatever.”

“Well, uh, funny thing about that,” I answered, “I signed up as the straight guy too.”

Felix scrunched his nose. “What?”

“Yeah. Funny enough, I actually had the same idea as you.” I laughed, “figured pairing up with someone would ward off suspicion, you know?”

Silence.

Then a question.

“So… that means you’re actually straight? Like… actually actually?”

I felt my blood freeze when I heard the pain in his voice. I wrestled with my answer for a moment, but in the end, I decided to give what, at the time, felt like an honest answer.

“Yeah. I-I thought I was the only one. Maybe there was some kind of mix-up…” I kind of trailed off at the end. He didn’t challenge the silence. He left my arms and sat up next to me.“Look,” I continued, after a pause, “It’s true that I’m the straight guy but you’re still my friend, Felix! I’m here for you if you want to talk, or you need a shoulder to cry on, or-“

“Actually,” he interrupted, quietly, “I think I just need to be alone right now. Sorry.”

He gestured at the door. I stepped out. Softly, so softly, he locked the door behind me.

I should have felt some type of way about how things went down with Felix. But the truth is, I didn’t feel worried, or relieved, or sad, or angry – just numb. Although, I felt really bad that I didn’t feel anything, if that makes sense. I stood by his room for what must’ve been hours – couldn’t even work up the energy to move.

So in the end I just sat down right there, and I listened to him cry from the other side of the door.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

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>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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