Page 45 of Royal Omega

“My head hurts, so I’m going to lie down until it’s time. If that’s ok with you?” I ask.

She hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Just make sure you’re still ready to go when we get started.”

“Of course,” I say, offering her a smile. My gaze falls on the table of omegas. With the exception of Beatrice, who seems friendly enough, all the omegas are watching me with distaste. I’m sure leaving the room when they all plan to stay doesn’t ingratiate me with them either... but there’s no way to win with them, and I’m not going to spend my time trying.

***

IT SEEMS LIKE A GOODopportunity to take some notes for my article, which I’ve been neglecting with all the Conrad bullshit, and my heat on the horizon. I look back through what I’ve already written, thinking about the cadence and overall theme I want to promote. It can’t be too heavy-handed, or no one will buy it. And I can’t seem bitter or angry about the situation, either, if I want to come across as objective.

“What you got there?” Beatrice asks from the doorway. I jump despite myself.

“I thought I closed that door,” I sigh.

“You did. And I opened it when I called your name ten times and you didn’t answer, so I had good reason to think you were dead.”

“I thought you were still at breakfast.”

“There’s only so long I can handle being adored by other omegas before I need a break,” she says with a shrug. “You know what I mean?”

“I really don’t,” I murmur, trying to gather up my papers as if they’re not important.

She crosses her arms and leans against the archway. “What is that?”

“Oh it’s nothing. Just some... thoughts.”

“A journal? I heard you were a writer. Any chance it’s more than just personal thoughts?”

I bite my lip, trying to decide whether or not to trust her. The truth is, I could use someone else’s thoughts to fill out my article, and Beatrice would be a great get; she’s more in-the-know about the workings of the show than almost anyone else.

“They’re notes for an article. I thought I would do a piece about the show.”

Beatrice raises an eyebrow. “What about the NDA you signed?”

“I can write around the NDA. The Herald has lawyers. They’ll figure something out.”

Beatrice snorts. “You must be pretty talented to make it worth fighting the network.” She crosses the room and sits beside me on the bed. “What do you want to say about the show?”

“I’m not sure yet. I think... I’ve been so head-down in the game that I haven’t had a chance to stop and think.”

“And that’s exactly what they’re hoping will happen,” Beatrice says with a nod. “They’ll run you from place to place so fast that you don’t have time to think much. And they’ll make you think that the rose ceremony is the only chance you’ll have to find love. So by the finale, you’re totally brainwashed, thinking this is the most important moment of your life.”

“You weren’t like that,” I point out.

“Sure I was,” Beatrice says with a sigh. “But right before the ceremony, I learned that it wasn’t going to turn out well for me. Instead of handling it gracefully like everyone else, I decided to stick it to the network. I still thought all this shit was important. They manipulate you into thinking that way. Like they’re your parents and you’re the child, and they know exactly what you need.”

I pull out a pencil from the spiral of my notepad and scribble that down. “What else do you wish people knew about this show?”

Beatrice holds up her hands. “Oh no. You’re not going to be interviewing me. I get my brain picked enough by the producers.”

“Please? Think of it as a way to convey your knowledge. You can be anonymous if you want.”

Beatrice snorts at that. “I’m the least anonymous person you’ll ever meet.” She lifts her thumb to her lips and bites her nail for a moment. “Ok, I’ll tell you what I think about this whole place. But if I wind up finding love here, I reserve the right to tell you that everything I said was the bitter musings of a single omega.”

“Deal. I can work with that.”

***

AN HOUR LATER, MY HANDis cramped from filling page after page with Beatrice’s thoughts. She barely stops to breathe, telling me story after story about producer manipulations, favorites, and sneaky cast member hook ups.

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