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It was gone. Everything was gone. Every tree, every marking in the grass, gone . Just like that, the show was over, and nothing was left but MePhone4. Aside from Cobs–he was alone.
How would he do it? All those objects had lives they had lived, maybe not before the show, but they had made lovers, hobbies, children even.
…
What would he do now? There were so many questions in his head, making him dizzy. He wanted to cry, but did he truly have a reason to? None of the contestants really liked him, especially in the end.
“Let’s go,” A voice rang. A voice he didn’t know how to feel about. It sounded so bland, like everything didn’t just disappear. Like it was just MePhone playing pretend.
“No,” MePhone said, he was on the brink of tears. This isn't happening, but it was. And he had no choice, no more escaping.
“Come on, show’s over,” Cobs said, walking to him, MePhone still sat on the ground, watching the sun. It burned, but it was the only thing left, “We’re going home,”
MePhone sat there, saying nothing.
“Why… why are you… pretending like it didn’t happen,” MePhone said, finally able to let something else come out of his mouth. Cobs let out a sigh,
“I am not pretending it didn’t happen, I let it run for 3 seasons, MePhone,” He said, looking down at him. His glasses were cracked, making him look more stressed than he usually looked. Though it might have been the hint of sympathy in his face.
“But… they’re gone, all of them.” He said, trying not to curl up. He was an idiot for not realizing that he made the contestants. It was his fault.
“Think of it this way… they were never real to begin with… so can they even be real–?”
“They were real! They-they made friendships they made partners they made–they made hobbies and personalities I didn’t like– and and…” MePhone stopped. He didn’t like this conversation. At all. He hated it, so so much. He wanted everything to go back to normal.
“Come on, let’s go home.” Cobs outstretched his hand to MePhone, who reluctantly took it, standing up, just a few inches shorter than Cobs.
There was no more hiding.
No more escaping.
No more denial.
…
And he supposed everything would go back to normal again, anyway.
…
This wouldn’t be the final act.