happiness in misery

Darcy Moore / 25 / Byron Bay, Australia:

“my name is darcy. you may have seen my podcast ‘darcy moore wants more’ floating around on tiktok. i’m based in byron, but travel lots for work. i’m just keen to get into the house already. i couldn’t care less what they think, as long as it’s about me. although last season, not too much thinking seemed to be happening. had about three brain cells between the lot of them. wait. could you maybe edit that part out?”

“  an  ego  that  rivals  my  own  .  perhaps  helena  would  prefer  to  share  the  bed  with  you  and  have  even  less  space  ,  “  the  words  are  followed  by  a  lofty  bout  of  laughter  ,  impressed  and  interested  by  what  she  had  to  say  .  it  seemed  that  most  of  the  women  here  were  beautiful  and  had  a  hefty  persona  ,  weightier  than  those  he  was  accustomed  to  meeting  .  aless  enjoyed  the  challenge  ,  although  he  wasn’t  discriminatory  as  to  what  or  who  he  chased  -  he  kept  this  to  himself  .  “  don’t  be  upset  that  i  haven’t  give  you  special  attention  yet  ,  you’re  still  on  my  radar  ,  “  he  teases  ,  jokes  so  often  indistinguishable  from  his  true  intentions  .  he  did  not  fear  rejection  for  he  did  not  take  it  to  heart  at  all  ,  delusional  in  some  ways  .  “  or  are  you  trying  to  scope  out  the  competition  …  you  have  an  evil  plan  to  be  my  biggest  rival  in  this  beautiful  game  of  love  ,  “  he  quirks  an  eyebrow  .  

﹟ ⠀ 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺 ⠀﹕ ⠀ ❪ ⠀ 𝐞𝐚𝐳𝐲  +  𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐲 ⠀ ❫​​

“ i like trouble . ” he shrugged with a grin . “ well if it’s eating then i’ve got it in the bag , i’ll eat anything … mostly . ” it’d only been a few days and already he’d nearly forgotten about the cameras that followed them everywhere . “ but if it’s a mud wrestle that could be fun , easiest way to see which of y’all will win in a fight is to throw you all together in some mud and make you fight for something insignificant . ”

darcy looked down resentfully at the cargo pants and boots she was currently wearing. she only had these stupid things because she dressed as kim possible for halloween. frankly, that should be the only reason a respectable young woman should have cargo pants. this is not exactly what darcy had signed up for. “please tell me you were a fuckin’ girl scout or something.” what the hell was rowena going to do, slam poem them out of there? her partners response was interrupted by a large rustling in the bushes. that would have been fine, if it weren’t paired with an indiscernible growling sound. is this a joke. “um - maybe that’s a paid actor?”

“ Billboards? ” Camilla repeated, her eyebrows shooting up so high they could almost touch her hairline. She wasn’t even sure she’d land a spot in the promos, truth be told she didn’t think she’d even be accepted onto the show. Billboards had never crossed her mind. “ Do… do you really think so? ” They fretted, a new fear unlocked. It was one thing to hope their parents happened to not catch a small clip of her on a commercial. It was another to hope they wouldn’t notice their child staring down at them from a 48 foot wide picture. “ They think I’m at a dance camp and can’t use my phone. Maybe… maybe New York will have more important things to broadcast, like… a new play or something. ”

Was this person born yesterday? How did she not comprehend the sheer enormity of what they’d signed up for. Even the nobodies that entered the house in season one, came out famous (or, infamous). Many of them now had brand deals with the likes of ASOS and Sephora. A dance camp?  Do grown adults still go to those? “Maybe you could gaslight them into thinking you have a long lost twin they didn’t know about.” Darcy glanced towards the camera crew, fiddling with the mic was placed on her collar. “What’s the deal there anyway? Are they just too good for reality tv?”

"top 3 predictions for week one," he held out two beers in one hand, and a bottle opener in the other. isaac leaned in closer, his set of next words a low whisper as the two bottles clanged against one another. "person who's got the most right at the end of the week gets an off mic secret. you in?" for all he knew the mics would still pick it up. but, better to test it out with something harmless enough now, than later. (@dxrcymoore)

the blonde would take ice breakers over poker any day. “that sounds interesting.” taking the deck from the other’s hands, she smiles lightly before beginning to shuffle through them. some of the questions are more casual than others, and after reading two or three, she settles on one that seems like a good middle ground. “alright, how about,” she trails off, “what would the title of your autobiography be?” glancing over at the other, she places the current card at the very top, question-side up. 

placing her forefinger on her chin in thought, darcy hummed as though she didn’t already have an answer for this. “well, ‘darcy moore wants more’ is my podcast, so maybe something cheesy like “even more of darcy moore.” grabbing the next card, darcy paused. this one was very pointed. personally, darcy would probably tell a white lie if she was asked this - but perhaps this woman had nothing to hide. “what is a story people tell about you that isn’t true, but you don’t correct.”

After enough time of talking and getting familiarized with the place, Carla was ready to find her room and figure out the sleeping situation. She would rather have a good night of sleep before facing whatever awaited her in the morning. The antecipation wouldn’t let her fall asleep quickly, but she could at least try. She was still trying to memorize the locations around the house, and she found herself going in the same direction as someone else. The invitation for a game wasn’t what she had in mind, but maybe the distraction would help her sleep better once it was done. “A game? Sure. What do you have there?”

“Okay so here,” she said, holding up her card deck proudly. “I have the game.” Passing it to the stranger momentarily, she grabbed what looked to be two small glasses from the mantle of the fireplace “- and this, is our nightcap. We deserve it for surviving the evening” Darcy had (for the most part) behaved herself for the night, so what harm was a little celebratory drink? “Choose a question card, or if you’re feeling curious, give me a question of your choosing.”

A few drinks and a joint or two later and Josh was actually starting to loosen up. New social situations always had a tendency to spike his anxiety, so he indulged a little to placate those fears that were now tucked safely into bed at the back of his mind. Just like he should have been well on his way to, truthfully, but snacks called his name and somehow in his venture to the kitchen he got turned around. One minute he was on his way to find something to eat and the next he was trailing behind a brunette, only realizing his blunder once she entered a bedroom. A bedroom that was not his. He halted, shaking his head – an apology on the tip of his tongue before she spoke up. “ A game? You’re not like… secretly Jigsaw or some shit, are you? “ 

Raising from her seat, Darcy suddenly looked very serious. “I promise not to kill you if you aid me in my plans.” Waiting a beat, the lingering scent on the boys clothes caught her by surprise. There was no doubting people were bringing in contraband, but perhaps she was naïve in assuming the producers would step in. It would make for good television, regardless of what the contestants chose to do. Walking over to her bedside table, she grabbed a packet of crisps she had hidden at the start of the evening. “I snuck these in my suitcase just in case the first night was particularly dire. You can do the honours,” throwing the bag, she took a seat on the bed, eyeing the boy. “Jigsaw did say when you are in hell, only the devil can help you out.”

Spencer was having a blast getting to know everyone and partying into the night. He’d had one drink too many, but he was still sober enough to not make a complete fool of himself. Just not sober enough to find his room. In his defense, it had only been his room for a day now. “ Sorry, I don’t think this is my – ” He started to apologize, but stopped the moment Darcy spoke, his eyes lighting up. Inching through the doorway, the journey to his own room was forgotten. “ Yes, I want to play! What are we playing? ”

“Damn, we’re really invading this year.” Darcy hadn’t considered there’d be as many Australian contestants in the competition. Honestly, she’d liked the idea of going somewhere where nobody was likely to know her. Attention spans were short though, so if he’d seen her in the news, perhaps he’d forgotten by now. “Don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on ya for the first one.” Picking from the deck, she removed a blue card, the enamel shining in the bright lights. “If you catch me by the fridge at night I’m probably sneaking...” she let the question trail on, implying he should finish her sentence. “answer freely, what happens in this room, stays between us... and a few million strangers i guess”

to say this was disorienting was an understatement. this was such a far cry from anything ro had done in the past few years that somehow, her usual endeavors under a public lens felt less stressful than interacting with a house full of strangers. ro had spent much of the night pacing quiet observation with fleeting interactions -- enough to feel as if she was a participant as opposed to living furniture flitting about the building. though, that didn't sound like the worst option. no, no -- she'd committed. nonetheless, she'd resigned herself to the bed in her room, notebook and pen in hand. a recharge, a moment to collect her thoughts. ro had been so engrossed in thought in fact, that sudden movement caused her to jolt, notebook and pen hurtling to the ground between the pair.

"oh shit-- hey," she scrambled forward to retrieve her notebook, "i'm roo-ro, we're roomies-- roommates," she cringed internally at the faltered wording -- too much, too weird -- how did people talk to roommates they just met? "we're sharing the room." that felt better.

a pause for a beat that felt like a century all of a sudden. "how's the first night been going?" (@dxrcymoore)

the night had gone fairly well, considering. there was one name she’d been waiting to hear though, and still no rowena. darcy was beginning to think her room mate was a no show, but soon realised she was mistaken. the night had been filled with far too many first impressions. so much information to process in such little time. darcy’s mind had been racing, with possibilities, doubts, plans. usually she had a safe space to decompress and unpack, but in here she didn’t have that luxury. it wasn’t every day you started winding down for the night only to sleep in a room with a complete stranger. 

the notebook, sprawled open on the floor was indiscernible from this distance. it didn’t stop darcy from being slightly curious at what information ro had gathered already. smiling kindly, she reached the notebook at the same time as the stranger, handing it back to them. “yes, ro is it? i’m darcy, and lucky for you i don’t snore.” it was evident they were quite nervous, but if there was one person darcy didn’t want to start trouble with, it was her room mate. everyone knows you don’t want to go to sleep angry (or afraid). 

"if you're my people, it stays between us. if you're not my people, it's not my responsibility."

"i prefer to listen to them than read, but sure. i don't mind a bit of jane austen."

“just the person that i’m supposed to be looking for, so have you made any decisions, yet?” @dxrcymoore​

"I don't feel, I know I can."

“And what would that price be? An excellent pun? ‘Cause I’ve got those for days.” Devi offered with a laugh, confident that she wouldn’t be able to trade secrets for a well placed joke more than once and Darcy didn’t seem like someone who would take that kind of deal. “Plus, the alliteration is already on our side. Devi and Darcy? Darcy and Devi? It sounds excellent.”

Puns. The bane of Darcy’s existence. Her father was quite fond of them, but she felt they were the lowest form of humor. “I don’t doubt that,” she said, hiding her disappointment that Devi wasn’t keen to make a deal. This girl seemed harmless. She fit the girl next door trope to a T. Letting out a laugh, Darcy nodded at their names sounding good together. Would make one hell of a podcast title, frankly. “People are making a hashtag about us as we speak.”