The makeup artists were kind to him today. He’d picked one of his best outfits, a smooth button-up with a framed tan vest. Together they gave the illusion of broad shoulders and strong arms, but his face was round and his neck was stick-thin, so the illusion only worked at a distance. At a distance, he looked like a very imposing triangle.
His hair was fine, no strands out of place. His round, wire-framed glasses sat prim on his nose. His cards were the only flaw in an otherwise decent — if not boring— outfit; they were jutting out against the slim-fitting fabric of his dress jeans, and Jaewon had to shuffle in place to keep the deck from digging into his thighs. He hadn’t wanted to keep his cards out— he wanted to store them in his suitcase— but a crew member had advised him to keep them at the ready. Just in case.
When he stumbled out of the car— literally, stumbled— he smiled, and it was the type of smile that only looked real if you weren’t really looking. Otherwise, Jaewon knew he was a wreck. A seasoned viewer would notice the tightness of his jaw and the flush of his skin, maybe even the rattle in his fingertips. Jaewon could only hope the camera-crew would be empathetic enough to keep his nerves off-screen, but he wasn’t optimistic.
He couldn’t help it. The estate was massive.
Bigger than any place he’d ever seen. A year ago, he would’ve scoffed; an estate, a limo, a cash prize big enough to fund a lifetime. Fate has never left any room in his path for wonder, so this was an impossibility. A fluke. He was never meant to pull a card this rare, never meant to end up in a situation this unbelievable.
But here it was. Here he was, standing among paved paths and gilded fountains and meticulously trimmed gardens, looking like a fish out of water. When they entered the estate, it was even worse. Jaewon had never felt this small before.
The living room was bustling, full of contestants and production staff setting up for the long game ahead of them. Jaewon was busy zoning out against a wall. His mind was somewhere outside of the game, buzzing with car rides and stars and potato-dough soup.
A laugh crinkled across the room, snapping Jaewon out of his daze. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but any of the circles could have been the source. People were interacting. Friendships were being forged.
Shit. He needed to socialize if he was going to do this. He needed to make allies if he was going to win this game. He needed to take initiative.
Grudgingly, with the pace of an unenthusiastic snail, Jaewon gravitated towards the shifting crowd and hovered near someone, anyone, the first face he could find. “So,” he started, and it came out with all the grace of shattering glass. He tried again. “So, uh… What kind of… content… do you make? On Youtube, I mean. Or… not-Youtube. Whatever it is you do. I’ve never seen your channel before.”
