Kelly squeals as the opening credits roll, the laughing shots of each player flashing on the screen in time with the theme music as Ryan sits slouched against the arm chair. Yet another sticky reality show that she sits him in front of on weeknights until his eyes rot out and his brain dribbles out his ear. She’d already got him hooked on American Idol, and he’d never forgive her for that alone.

“And when is this one on?” he sighs already x-ing out days in his date planner (yes he has one, shut up) that will inevitably be filled with… Big Brother.

“Sunday.” Kelly pauses, “And Tuesday… Thursday too.”

“For the love of-“ but she shushes him as the show’s logo appears and the show begins. He can vaguely follow it, knows about POVs and HOHs and evictions, but the people and alliances disappear and shift so quickly that they’re greased in butter and slip right out of his memory. Not that he really cares enough to keep them straight, but he likes to know what he’s watching three nights a week.

“Awwww.” Kelly coos as two house guests walk on camera, fiddling with the bedspread. “Aren’t they cute?”

The blonde girl shakes out the sheets and straightens them across the mattress as the guy, Eric, he thinks, settles the comforter on his head. Someone’s drunk.

Ryan squints at the screen.

“Isn’t this a game of emotional manipulation? Why would they get involved on camera?”

Kelly rolls her eyes and sighs. “You, like, do not understand at all. This is true love! He totally would sacrifice himself for her if he needed to.”

She then sidles up to him, hugging herself to his arm in the way that made him nervous and provokes in him the instinct to bolt for the door.

“Do you think we could be like them? I mean, when our TV show airs and we’re the reality stars, we’re totally going to have fans that will ask for our autographs and stuff! But we’ll have to keep the paparazzi away from our wedding and I’m not sure how all this will affect little Usher…” (he’d learned to distinguish between Usher the singer and little Usher their future imaginary offspring.) ”… but we’ll deal. Oh my God! We’re the new Eric and Jessica!”

It’s then that it dawns on him that yes, this documentary will eventually air on nationally broadcast television. Yes, his friends will make fun of him to no end for the lipstick smears and squeals and love sick rhymes and stupid, uncontrollable grins on his part. And yes, his mother will call him, scream into the phone in bouncy chatters and ask him why he hasn’t brought home that nice Indian girl from work home to dinner. Sometimes he hates his life.

Yet as the two people on screen settle together on top of the covers. and Kelly sets her head lightly on his shoulder, he guesses there could be worse things than carrying on a showmance with a cute girl.