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#Log_058 - Unit Metrics Recalibrated

The following afternoon, a few hours before the episode starts, all twenty-nine remaining contestants are packed into the common room. This time, it's under Reese's calling. He stands at the front, the projection wall behind him, turning a small box over in his hands.

"Alright, first things first," he says, raising his voice. "Drop your phones in here."

He lifts the box. The complaints come immediately, but Reese's voice drowns them out.

"No leaks, no spoilers. I'm sorry, but no phones." He grins. "I know how tempting it is to post something, but trust me—this is gonna be huge. We don't want to ruin the surprise, do we?"

One by one, the contestants hesitate—then comply. Even Rebecca. She doesn't say anything when Reese holds the box out to her. She can't. Not with his eyes nailed to her. She just takes her phone out of her pocket and drops it into the box. During all that time, he never breaks eye contact. He doesn't even blink once. Then he moves on to the next person.

With a longing that physically hurts her, she just watches. The way he works them. The way they fall into his rhythm, like it's the natural thing to do. Phones rattle inside the box. Reese thanks each of them, satisfied.

"Perfect." He returns to his original position, opposite the group, and hands the box to Contestant 14. "Okay, let's shoot the first scene. Let's start with a big one."

"What is it?" someone asks. Rebecca doesn't recognize the voice.

Reese ignores the question. He doesn't respond with an ambiguous remark or a disarming smile, and the common room is too silent for anyone to have missed it. Maybe he's just entertained passing instructions to Contestant 14—but that doesn't seem to be the reason either. More like an excuse. Rebecca's eyes narrow. It isn't like him to avoid a confrontation, a question, or anything, really.

"She asked you something." That voice, Rebecca identifies it instantly. Contestant 24. "What is it?"

"Patience is a virtue. Did you know that?"

Rebecca chuckles under her breath. She's relieved she can still predict his ways. She still knows him. She's still the closest person to him.

Her gaze falls instinctively on Contestant 45, who's smirking at Contestant 24 like she holds information no one else does. What if she does? Are Reese and her sharing secrets now? Like they used to? It's not important, Rebecca tells herself, he's made his choice. The only problem is, it still hurts.

She looks at the door. Maybe she shouldn't be there. She shouldn't be part of whatever it is that Reese is doing, she should be dancing. Especially when she's one of the extras in his little project, not his equal, and she hates it. She should let what's left of her life shrink to dancing. She'd die happy.

But she can't go. Not because she isn't a complete fool who wants to keep an eye on Contestant 45—that too—but because she needs to see whatever it is Reese is doing all the way through. She's convinced this video of his isn't something she'll want to miss.

"Ready, folks? Please, do follow me."

At first, nobody moves. They only pivot on their heels, tracking his steps. Reese pushes through the crowd, heading for the common room door. As he passes next to Rebecca, he grabs her hand—a quick squeeze that makes her heart skip a beat. Then he lets go. The gesture is subtle, almost hidden, but she understands: stick by him, follow his lead.

Slowly and hesitantly, the crowd starts moving. Reese leads them through the kitchen and into the emergency stairs. Then up. He's taking them to the roof.

"Where are we going?" someone asks. Another unfamiliar voice.

"You'll see."

For a moment, the only sound in the emergency stairs is the thud of their footsteps, and the occasional giggle behind Rebecca's ear. Once they reach the end, Reese pushes the door open, and the rooftop stretches out before them. The same place where Reese asked her to trust him for the first time. Only now, lined along the edges, spider drones stand in a silent row, their legs coiled, waiting. The sight freezes some of them in place. They gasp, exchange looks, and take some steps back—but no one speaks up, and no one leaves.