Chapter 16
The twelve Challengers stood, grouped in the common room of their new dormitory located near the top of the Spire. The dorm was configured as a ring so that every room had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the disk that connected the thirteen towers of The Herald's complex.
Ritchie was facing the huddled mass of exhausted young metahumans, talking to some of the production assistants and preparing to hand out the room assignments. He was ready to answer any questions they had about their new living arrangements and the day-to-day production of the reality show broadcast.
Joel stood a few paces behind the rest of the crowd near the back of the room. It had been a few hours since his one-on-one match ended. Luckily they had matched him with someone who could simply be put to sleep. But, given the nature of the first round scenarios, Joel was starting to suspect that The Show knew more about each contestant than he let on. After he had eked out a win by figuring out how to use his opponent's power against him, the day had become a bit of a whirlwind, with The Show announcing the other eleven winners, telling the world about an inaugural party later that night, and the winners being whisked away to their new dorms before the media could pull anyone for an interview.
“Pretty wild right?” Bailey said, seemingly popping out of nowhere.
Joel jumped a little, “Oh, yeah. I’m so glad you won your fight. It’ll be nice to have a friend here, for sure.”
“Right back 'atcha!” Bailey smiled back at him.
“I’m still kinda in shock about all of this. I don’t know any of these people, and now we have to live with them for a whole year?” Joel’s nerves were on display; exhaustion was taking hold, and he couldn’t really hide his fear at the moment.
“You know, you could, and I’m just spitballing here, maybe introduce yourself to some of these lovely folks and possibly make some new friends?” Bailey said playfully, her voice going up slightly at the end to indicate it was a question, but also not.
“Making friends isn’t really my forte.” Joel sheepishly responded.
“Coulda’ fooled me. Unless... You think I’m just some starry-eyed stalker, only in it for your money and newfound fame, don’t you?”
Shocked, Joel mumbled, “Wait, wha..” before Bailey laughed and cut him off.
“Just kidding! Man, you are so easy. All I’m saying is that, despite the nature of the competition, I’m sure there are plenty of people here who will like you for exactly who you are. Like me, for instance. Unless you are some secret spy or serial killer or something.”
“Mmmm…Me?” Joel didn’t know how to respond. Mercifully, at that precise moment, the blond woman that they had met during the second trial walked up to them. When she saw Joel, she gave him a dirty look as if he had wronged her in some way, then smiled at Bailey. “Hi, I’m Ashley, in case you forgot. Looks like we’re roommates. You, me, and that girl June over there,” she said, pointing at a beautiful, statuesque young black woman in front of the mass of competitors.
“Hi! Glad to meet you... again. Remember my friend Joel?” Bailey asked, trying to include Joel.
Joel was about to say hello and re-introduce himself, but Ashely cut him off. “Okay. Anyway, want to go check out our room?”
“Um, sure,” Bailey said as Ashley grabbed her wrist and pulled her away. Bailey waved goodbye to Joel with an apologetic look on her face, while he looked around the room like the awkward wallflower he was, and tried to figure out who his roommate might be. He only got so far as to notice two men walking up to him.
“Joel Allen…” Ritchie said, pausing to look down at his clipboard, double checking that he approached the right person, “Meet your roommate, Bobby Keithson,” Ritchie said.
Joel looked over to the twentyish-year-old punk rocker dressed all in black and gray and smiled politely. Bobby nodded back. Joel couldn’t tell if Bobby was aloof or just exhausted. Since everyone had been awake for 72 straight hours, Joel assumed exhaustion and offered, “Nice to meet you.”
“Whatup,” Bobby said in a super chill tone while raising his head slightly and squinting his eyes.
“Before you rush to your rooms like Ashley and Bailey, I need to debrief you both on some production rules.” Richie continued, “During The Culling, we digitally added masks and changed any mention of your name to your designated Herald aliases to hide your true identity from the viewers. This will still be active during filming as a safety procedure, but we will have a costume designer come in tomorrow to help design your official Challengers Costumes. This will include masks and other identity-hiding features.”
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“Fuck yeah, dude,” Bobby said in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Am I allowed to plug my band? I brought a bunch of T-shirts and other merch that I’d like to wear.”
“Probably not. You can wear whatever you can get cleared through the legal team in your downtime, but your official costume will only have whatever logo you come up with tomorrow with the PR consultant.” Ritchie said, trying to get back on script. “The cameras will follow all contestants 24/7 except when roommates are alone in their rooms. However, the cameras will reactivate if someone other than the room’s approved occupants enters.”
“So wait. If I bring someone back to the room, to, you know, stay over…” Bobby was trying to be professional, at least for him, but he gave up. “Look, are you going to watch us fuck? Cuz I don’t want any sex tapes out there or anything.” Bobby said in playful fake outrage that didn’t land with Ritchie but made Joel chuckle. “At least this year.”
“No!” Richie’s eyes went wide, and he nearly dropped his clipboard, giving Bobby the reaction he was clearly looking for. Ritchie straightened his tie and said, “If there are any relationships of that nature, just let me or the producers know, and we can add them to your exclusion list. But anyone related to the competition will not be granted blackout permissions. If you are meeting with your fellow competitors for any reason, the audience is going to see it. If it weren’t for The Constitution we wouldn’t have any exclusions, but since this isn’t prison, we legally must afford you at least that amount of privacy. Not even our lawyers could get around that one.”
“Oh, ok, so if I change my mind and want a sex tape, it should be with another contestant. Got it. Please, continue.” Bobby clearly enjoyed pushing social boundaries for his own amusement.
Ritchie gave up. “Look, here are your room keycards! There’s also a party tonight to celebrate everyone who made it through The Culling and to introduce the first three selections to the All-Star squad. You have four hours to change and get ready before you have to be at the All-Star’s Loft, two floors above this one. Use your keycard in the elevator to unlock that level.” Richie said as he left the new roommates alone.
Joel took his keycard and turned to Bobby, “I don’t think he got the joke.” They scanned their keycards and entered the dorm room. The room was relatively spacious, with two twin beds, two solid oak writing desks with chairs, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking one of the infinity pools atop The Disk. Large black gift boxes tied with a white bow rested on each bed.
Bobby shrugged before trust-falling onto one of the beds. “My bits only work half the time. Or on half the people. I haven’t really figured that out. So what’s your deal? ” he asked Joel, sitting up, cross-legged on the bed, and checking out the card on the gift box next to him.
“My deal?” Joel did not want to explain his “deal” to a stranger.
“Yeah, dude. Why are you here? What inspired you to join this truly batshit experiment The Heralds have designed to, once again, exploit us nobodies?” Somehow, when Bobby said “Heralds,” it sounded like a pejorative.
“Uh, just here to win or whatever,” Joel said.
“So, you really want to be a Herald, huh?” Bobby said, shifting to a more earnest tone. “That's some serious pressure. I'm just here to plug my band so I don't have to work any more shitty overnights at the bar. Reality shows are great for individual brand exposure. This one’s for you.” Bobby tossed the package over to Joel and wiggled his outstretched fingers, making the “gimme” motion for Joel to toss the other box his way.
Joel promptly obliged as he considered how much he wanted to divulge. “My life hasn’t been the easiest, and I was a bit of a late bloomer on the “powers” front. Now that I feel like I have the ability to do so, I’d like to help people, even if on a small level. To be able to help on the scale of The Council, I dunno. Right now, I just feel super lucky to have made it this far. I don’t think anyone in my life back home thought I would, to be honest.”
“Aren’t you the guy that put a whole mountain of this generation's strongest metas to sleep, just like that?” Bobby snapped his fingers. “Yea, who woulda’ thought someone so weak would make the cut?” he followed up sarcastically.
“I guess.” Joel knew he couldn’t explain that things weren't so simple, but sheepishly accepted the compliment and looked to change the subject. “Hey! Have you met anyone cool here so far? I met this girl Bailey, who, judging by your sense of humor, I think you would dig. And she’s here for brand exposure, too. She said she’s a voice actor out in L.A.”
“Sounds cool! You can make the intro tonight. As for me, besides meeting you now? Not really. I got in really late from Austin and didn’t have a ton of time to socialize before the first trial. Although, I did beat the shit out of some dude with lightning powers who might be my soulmate. We didn’t talk alot, but I hear the best friendships are built on violence and shit-talking, right? Hey, what’s in your box? Let's open them at the same time. I bet mine is an ironclad NDA and a box of condoms.”
Joel picked up his box, removed the bow and wrapping, and looked over at Bobby to make sure he was doing the same. They both removed their lids simultaneously, revealing similar suits: Slacks, a jacket, a shirt, cufflinks, shoes, and a few choices for the necktie. Bobby held up the blazer and whistled. “Faaancccyy.” He drew out the vowels to sound as snooty as possible. “I guess we know what we’re wearing to the party tonight.”
“I’m so tired,” Joel stated, almost devoid of all emotion. “I almost forgot we had to go to this fancy-ass party.” He felt his insecurities taking hold in his exhaustion.
“Don’t worry, bro. Looks like our bags are in the closet, and I’ve got a case of Red Bull for just these situations. Trust me. We want to be wide awake to take in the spectacle that these elitist asshats are surely planning for us. Although, it’s not really about us anyway.”
“How so?” Joel asked.
“Well, my new friend, tonight is all about showing the world how much better The Heralds are than everyone else. It’s about showing superiority. Making everyone hate us but also want to be us. This soiree will be one for the ages. I guarantee it!”