Chapter 6: Traps, Twists, and Three Days to Survive

“I love my fans very much.”

I shot him a look—show-off. The chat went wild.

*“Ahhhhh, Miles, I love you too!”*

*“Dude, work hard or you’ll have to inherit the family fortune.”*

*“I don’t care, I want to marry Miles in this life, sob sob sob.”*

His was so obvious that no one lost a point. Even the crew laughed, the tension easing for a second.

Next, it was my turn. Things were heating up. The mood was tense. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. The room buzzed with anticipation.

With everyone watching, I smiled sweetly and said:

“I’ve made my brother cry when I beat him up.”

The room went dead silent. You could’ve heard a pin drop. Or maybe the sound of a career crashing.

A crack finally appeared in my brother’s cool facade. He tilted his head and stared at me, stunned, like he’d just seen a ghost.

My brother: “What?”

Everyone else: “Ahhhhh?”

Total knockout. Everyone looked floored, jaws hanging open.

The chat exploded, the comments flying faster than the crew could read:

*“Hahahahaha, Carter Dean went from a wolf to a golden retriever in a second!”*

*“Carter bravely takes the blame for his own beatings~”*

*“A top idol getting beat up is funny, but getting beat up by his little sister is hilarious!”*

*“Carter: Guess why I’m not laughing.”*

*“Trending says Carter Dean’s a rage monster, LOL, but he’s actually the one who gets beat up and cries by his little sister?”*

*“Look at Hannah’s face—she’s thinking, ‘I want to try that too!’”*

I was telling the truth. Don’t be fooled by my brother’s tough act on camera. As a kid, he was a total crybaby. I’ve always had a fiery streak, so beating him up became his childhood trauma.

At first, he tried telling on me, but then one day he found my old elementary school essay.

The topic: “Wish.”

“My wish is to become a cute octopus~”

“Because then, when someone annoys me—”

“I can slap them eight times at once!”

After that, my brother always gave in. He never made me mad again. The legend of the octopus slap lived on in family lore. Grandma brought it up every Thanksgiving.

After this round, Alex’s scoreboard hit zero. The producer regretfully announced Alex was out. Everyone else had two points left. The competition was fierce, but the mood was lighter now. Everyone was grinning at the chaos.

Finally, it was my brother’s turn. The King of Cool never disappoints. He said, deadpan:

“Fan count over a hundred million.”

Mic drop.

The chat went wild. The digital crowd lost it.

*“Carter, kill me! Truly a top idol!”*

*“Out of a hundred million fans, 99% are here for his face!”*

*“Looks-wise, Alex isn’t bad, but character-wise, Alex is better than some top idols.”*

*“Wherever Carter is, Alex’s haters follow.”*

*“I’m deceased!”*

The producer announced:

“Congrats to Carter Dean for winning the game! All other players are out!”

He pulled it off. I’d give him 99 points. Minus one so he doesn’t get too cocky.

I shot him a thumbs-up, and he tried to look humble, but the smirk gave him away.

—

Next was the lunch segment. The crew herded us into a country kitchen. On the big wooden table were three sets of ingredients in different amounts, laid out like a game show prize round.

A sly look flashed in the producer’s eyes. Uh oh.

“Since Carter Dean won the last game, he and his sister get to pick first.”

Of the three sets, the biggest was just veggies and grains. The medium set had meat, eggs, and rice. The smallest set was seafood.

Even though the seafood set wasn’t big, it was a full basket. Enough for two people, one meal. Lobster claws and king crab legs peeked out from under the ice, practically daring us to grab them.

Logically, you’d pick the seafood first. But if we did, the whole ingredient-picking session would be pointless, right? My reality TV instincts were tingling.

*“Definitely pick the seafood! That king crab and lobster look amazing!”*

*“Why should they pick first? Princess Bella should go first!”*

*“Carter’s EQ is so low—can’t he let others have it?”*

*“He’s the winner. Letting someone else pick is nice, but he doesn’t have to. Don’t guilt-trip him, okay?”*

*“Why do I feel like something’s up? Smells like a trap~”*

I thought for a second. Had an idea. I whispered to my brother, and he nodded, catching on quick.

“Producer, we’ve decided—we’ll take the veggies and grains.”

The producer looked surprised. “Are you sure? It’s rare to get first pick!”

The more he tried to talk us out of it, the more obvious the trap was. Classic reality show bait-and-switch.

My brother and I answered together: “We’re sure. No changes.”

The producer looked a little disappointed, his poker face slipping for just a second.

“Alright, next, Miles and Hannah, your turn.”

Hannah stuck out her tongue playfully. “Sorry, I’m allergic to seafood.”

So they picked the meat, eggs, and rice. The safe choice, but a solid one.

Bella and Alex’s group got the seafood basket. Figures.

Alex was excited but tried to play it cool for the camera. “Bella and I didn’t expect to pick last and still get the best. Must be good luck—my sister Bella is a little lucky star.”

Bella smiled sweetly at the camera:

“No way, it’s all thanks to Alex.”

Chat: *“Alex and Bella really have a good sibling relationship!”*

*“Honestly, never thought they were siblings before.”*

*“I even shipped the ‘Broken Heart’ duo. Sigh, shipping everyone just hurts me.”*

*“They never said they were real siblings—maybe distant cousins.”*

After each group picked their ingredients, the time was right. The tension in the kitchen was almost as thick as the smell of fresh bread.

I raised my hand, trying to sound casual:

“Producer, you haven’t told us how often we’ll get these ingredients?”

Alex suddenly caught on. He echoed my question.

“Yeah, is this for one meal or more?”

The producer smiled mysteriously. Never a good sign.

“During filming, you only get to pick ingredients once.”

“So that means…”

“All the food for the next three days is what you just picked.”

The whole room went silent. Reality set in. The real game was about to begin.