Chapter 1: The Impossible Prompt

On a reality show, I shamelessly called up my arch-nemesis.

"Can you lend me two million so I can buy an outfit?"

On the other end: "...Why don’t you just peel my skin off and wear me instead."

A second later, a notification flashed on my phone screen.

[Your Chase card ending in 8975 received a real-time transfer of $1,000,000 at 08:13 AM on September 11...]

I stared at my phone, my chest squeezed so tight I almost snorted, but my eyes stung too. The bright studio lights glared down, prickling my skin. It felt like every camera in the place had zoomed in, hungry to catch any flicker of embarrassment or triumph.

1

The rules of the reality show game were clear: We each had to call someone live, trick them into saying a random phrase, and pray they didn’t catch on.

The sentence was chosen by drawing lots.

I unfolded my slip, and my world went dark—

[Prompt: Are you sick?]

What kind of weird prompt is this? It’s like one of those bizarre SAT listening questions.

"Ah, this one’s impossible, Director, can Melissa draw again instead?"

Jenna suddenly leaned in, squeezing my arm, fake concern all over her face.

Little brat, you sure know how to play the part.

We’ve known each other less than half an hour, and you’re already acting like we’re besties.

I forced a smile and shook my head.

"No need, I’ll stick with this one."

[Live Chat: What’s Rachel’s problem? Jenna is just looking out for her, why the attitude?]

[Live Chat: Poor Jenna, even on a show she gets bullied.]

[Live Chat: Jenna, just give up, you treat her like a friend but she just uses you as a prop.]

I kept my head down and ignored the chat, thinking about who to call.

Anyone with a shred of decency would never say something like that—except for...

But if I couldn’t complete the task, I’d have to team up with Jenna...

I sighed and glanced at the screen, watching her pretend to be all warm and friendly.

"What are you talking about? Rachel and I are super close, I like Rachel, and she treats me really well too."

Forget it, forget it. If I have to pick between a minute of awkwardness and a whole day of it, I’ll take the minute.

As I waited for the dial tone, the HD camera zoomed right in on the contact name I’d set for Oscar-winner Ethan Hayes in my phone.

[Young man with a great butt and a sharp tongue]

...

Crap, I forgot about the contact note.

Everyone looked at me like I was some kind of alien. I let out a couple of awkward laughs.

"Ahem, lost a game of truth or dare, forgot to change it back."

The flashy ringtone kept blaring. At this rate, if he didn’t pick up in ten seconds, the call would fail.

The awkward tension in the studio was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Jenna patted me on the shoulder, trying to comfort me.

"It’s okay, Ethan was filming a night scene yesterday. He’s probably still asleep."

Wow, you know his schedule that well, huh.

I side-eyed Jenna, lips twitching in that practiced half-smile you wear when you know someone’s putting on a show. The other contestants glanced over, and someone in the back actually snorted, and the camera guy’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. The AC was blasting, but my palms still started to sweat.