Chapter 6: The Locker Room
The gym sat at the far end of the house, past the glass-walled lounge and down a corridor lined with framed stills from past seasons. The equipment gleamed under harsh white lights, racks of dumbbells and cable machines arranged in neat military rows. A few contestants milled about, nursing protein shakes or wiping down benches, but the real action was happening in the locker room at the back, where laughter spilled out into the corridor.
David followed Remy through the door and felt the temperature change. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and steel, lockers stretching into the shadows like a maze of silver tombstones. A cluster of men stood around a bench in the middle of the room. Lance sat at the center, a towel draped over his shoulders, his jaw working on a piece of gum. Two others David recognized from the atrium: a stocky, muscular white guy named Owen who looked like a tight end in the NFL. With him was a lean, dark-skinned man named Joey who was very social since their arrival.
They were mid-story, Owen’s voice carrying with the easy confidence of someone used to being heard.
"Look, I'm just saying," Kyle said, gesturing with a water bottle. "If you had to pick one woman in this house to spend a week alone with, you'd be a fool to pick anyone but Claire. That dress she wore on the first night? She wasn't hiding anything under that mesh. That was a statement."
Lance chuckled, shaking his head. "Denise and I have an arrangement. We're allowed to look. But if I'm looking, I'm looking at the twins. Two of them. Same face. That's just efficiency. She kinda is too…”
“Wait, so Denise…” David asked.
“Yup. Switch hitter, bro.”
The other men laughed. Meanwhile, another man named Derek (the one who one of the Heartbreakers liked) remained silent, arms crossed, but he was listening. David knew that Derek was smart. He knew he didn’t have to show his cards this early.
As for David, he hovered near the door, uncertain. He had followed Remy here on instinct, the truce still new and fragile. But this felt like dangerous territory. He had spent his whole life on the outside of conversations like this, always afraid that if he opened his mouth, everyone would see how little he knew.
Remy walked past him without a word, heading toward the bench. He moved with the easy confidence of a man who owned every room he entered. The laughter died down as he approached.
"Gentlemen," Remy said, nodding. "Keeping the conversation classy, I see."
Owen shrugged. "Just getting to know each other. Trading intel. That's part of the game, right? You want to win this thing, you need to know the competition."
"The women aren't the competition," Remy said. "They're contestants, same as us. And some of them are people I've decided to respect."
Lance raised an eyebrow. "That's new. You've been here just three days, and you're already going soft?"
Remy smiled, but there was nothing warm in it.
"I'm not going soft. I'm being tactical. There's a group in this house that's got each other's backs. You know the ones I'm talking about. The Heartbreakers. And I've decided it's smarter to be on their good side than to be the guy making crude jokes about them in the locker room."
Kyle snorted. "The Heartbreakers? You mean that little group that formed around the computer nerd? No offense, man," he added, finally noticing David standing near the door. "But that alliance is a joke. Four women and a virgin. That's not a power block, that's a support group."
The men laughed. David felt his face grow hot. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He had no comeback. He had never had a comeback.
Remy stepped forward, and the laughter died again. There was something in his posture that made the room go still. He walked over to Kyle and stood close, close enough that Kyle had to tilt his head up to meet his eyes.
"David is under my protection," Remy said, his voice low and even. "I don't know if you heard me the first time, so I'll say it again. Under. My. Protection. You want to make jokes about him, you're making jokes about me. And I promise you. He might forgive… but I won’t.”
Owen’s jaw tightened. He looked at Lance, who gave a small shake of his head, a warning. Then Kyle looked at Remy, and whatever he saw there made him back down.
“Well damn. David must have REALLY knocked you off.” Joey said.
"Fine.” Owen said, raising his hands. "No disrespect. I was just talking."
"No, you weren't," Remy said. "You were being an asshole. There's a difference. Talking is what you do when you have something worth saying. Being an asshole is what you do when you don't."
He turned away and walked to the bench, sitting down next to Lance with the ease of a man who had just won a small war. He jerked his head toward the locker next to him, and David, after a moment of hesitation, walked over and sat down.
The room was quiet. Owen uncrossed his arms and studied David with new eyes. Joey stared at the floor. Lance looked at Remy with something that might have been respect.
"So," Remy said, breaking the silence. "Anyone else want to share their thoughts on the women of the house, or are we done?"
Lance shook his head. "We're done."
“I’m done too. I know when to shut up.” Joey said.
"Good." Remy clapped his hands together. "Then let's talk about something useful. Strategy. The next challenge is going to be announced tonight, and I want to know what everyone's thinking."
David sat on the bench, his heart still hammering in his chest. He looked at Remy, who was already deep in conversation with Lance about strength pairings and competition brackets, and felt something shift inside him. This was not the same man who had mocked him in front of the whole house on the first day. This was someone else. Someone who had looked at the situation and decided that the better play was to stand beside the underdog rather than against him.
He did not know if Remy meant any of it. He did not know if this was just another manipulation, another angle being worked for the sake of the game. But for the first time in his life, someone had stepped in front of him and said, this person is mine to protect. And David had felt what it was like to be claimed.
He sat in the ozone-scented air, listening to the men talk strategy, and he did not say anything. But he was thinking. He was thinking about the twins, about the way Diana had touched his arm, about the way Daphne had smiled at him like she knew something. He was thinking about the Heartbreakers, about the way they had surrounded him like a wall of warmth and truth. And he was thinking about what Remy had just done for him, and what it might cost them both.
A doorbell-type jingle then sounded. Zola’s voice sounded on the monitor inside the locker room.
“Boys, our next challenge will start momentarily.”
Remy softly whispered in David’s ear…
“Remember our agreement.”