Page 14 of Alice Chen's Reality Check

Seek out tactical advantages in challenges

Avoid drama

Befriend our producer

And in the short term, as a sub-bullet to befriending our producer, I add:

Nail soundbite to Leah’s satisfaction

I can do this. I talk in front of people—okay, tweens—all the time. I breathe in and imagine I’m standing at the front of my classroom, about to explain quadratic equations.

“We’re in love, and we’re ready to prove it to the whole wide world!” I say. In a burst of enthusiasm, I hold up our linked hands for the cameraman to capture.

The sound tech nearly falls over from the sudden screech from the mic. The cameraman chokes on his laughter and starts pounding his chest. Leah clicks her pen so hard that it leaps out of her hand and skitters across the deck. She doesn’t seem to notice, and I resist the urge to go crawling after it. Hey, good pens are hard to come by. I’ve got a whole collection of bank pens I swipe from the counter every time I have to make a withdrawal. I figure Bank of America can take the loss.

Leah sighs. “No, not like that. Look, Alice, honey. You’re trying too hard. That tone might work with your preschoolers—”

“I teach middle schoolers—” I interrupt, but Leah barrels on.

“But that doesn’t work here. We need you to sound genuine. Like you’re really, truly in love. I can tell you’re nervous, but I’m just here to get the right footage to tell your story. I’m on your team, and I want you two to look good!” Leah scans me up and down, and clearly finds me wanting. “Just fake it till you make it, okay?”

“Fake being genuine,” I say skeptically.

“Yes, exactly!” Leah claps her hands together. “You’re smart. You get it. You’re a Harvard genius!”

I didn’t actually go to Harvard. I went to a state school—and still managed to rack up a mountain of student debt—but Leah doesn’t give me a chance to correct her.

“Just let your passion come through naturally, but make sure you’re really enunciating for the mic, okay? Now, from the top.”

Relax, but with more passion. Play it up but do it naturally. No problem.

I don’t consider myself a shy person. If this were my high school Speech and Debate club, I’d be killing it right now. But instead of discussing facts or arguing a position, we’re talking about my (ugh) feelings. Not something I’ve had a lot of practice in. My mom’s way of showing affection was almost always food-related, like packing a homemade lunch for me every morning—even if it meant waking up early after staying late at the accounting firm. It was practical, heartfelt, and nourishing, with no physical contact or verbal communication required.

I’m nowhere near as bad as my mom. I’ve read those pastel Instagram infographics about emotional connection and self-care. I know how to talk about my feelings. But I still feel a little bit like I’m oversharing, exposing my soft underbelly. And doing it in front of a giant camera? That’s a lot to ask.

Head in the game. I just need to center myself. People love centering themselves. I take a deep breath and scrutinize the sparkling water all around me.

Despite everything, I can appreciate the beauty. It’s a view I never could’ve afforded if a production company weren’t paying for all this. Looking around, I can almost see price tags hovering over everything. The boat we’re on? Probably $15,000 just to charter it for the day. The extravagant papaya and pineapple fruit platter that’s been laid out has to be at least five hundred dollars. The drink being poured for the cast is actual champagne, and not the cheap stuff. That can’t be less than seventy-five dollars per bottle. My stomach feels sick as the numbers keep going up, up, up.

I glance down at my feet—five-dollar sandals from the clearance section. If we were playing a game of “what doesn’t belong?,” the answer would be immediately obvious: Alice Chen. My entire outfit adds up to less than one of those bottles of Veuve Clicquot.

---