Page 16 of Alice Chen's Reality Check

Leah’s just doing her job. She’s here to manufacture drama, but she’s also the only one on the production crew looking out for us. I need her as an ally. I know how cutthroat these competitions are. Cindy and Tara had made sure of it when they put me through Reality TV 101, which included not just reality shows but also nonfiction books, podcasts, and tell-all articles. And yes, I did take notes. So I know that when it comes to winning, having your producer in your corner is up there. And to ensure that, I have to play the game.

A few moments later, I’m in a bathroom strewn with boxes of clothing, being crammed into a bikini.

“Come on out,” Leah prompts.

“Ready, babe?” Chase asks.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. I feel naked, and not in a fun way. How long can I possibly stay in this bathroom? I imagine days going by while I survive on slices of pineapple speared onto bamboo cocktail picks.

My fingers twist around the empty place on my ring finger that usually holds my engagement ring. I took it off for the boat ride, worried that it might fall into the ocean or something. But now I feel even more naked without it.

“You can do this,” Chase calls. “Remember, you graduated with honors! You’re the reigning champion of the California Math League’s annual alumni competition. Your high school voted you Most Likely to Succeed. You can pull off a bikini!”

“I don’t think any of those skills are transferring here,” I mutter.

Still, it’s enough to put things in perspective. Emboldened, I take a deep breath and step out. Leah and Chase both cock their heads in thesame direction as they take in my new look.

“Better,” Leah says, but she still sounds a bit doubtful. She rakes her fingers through her curls again.

“Lookin’ good, babe,” Chase says, flashing me a thumbs-up. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in, uh, neon yellow before.”

“My mother’s going to have a heart attack if she sees me on TV wearing this,” I say. I really, really hope she doesn’t find out about this. “I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

“Not if we win the money,” Chase reminds me. “A million dollars would make any mom proud.”

Well. When he puts it that way.

My mind flashes back to months ago, the day I’d decided to go on this show. In my nightmares, I can still smell the smoke and feel the hopelessness of seeing my tough, stubborn mother on the floor.

I hadn’t been there when she needed me, and what’s worse, she’d been trying to take care ofme.Even though I’m twenty-five years old, she still doesn’t think I can take care of myself. I have to prove that I can take care of not just myself but both of us.

If I won a million dollars, I’d be able to take time off work and be with my mother through the rest of her cancer treatments. I could pamper her, the way she deserves. We could order DoorDash every day. I could download Caviar or one of the more expensive apps. Heck, we could eatactualcaviar. Or, even better, organic maitake mushrooms smothered in that three-hundred-dollar olive oil.

I’ll do whatever it takes to win. For that to happen, I need Leah on our side, pulling for us over every other couple here.

I straighten my shoulders. “Let’s do this.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Leah breaks into a smile, waving to the cameraman and the sound tech. “From the top!”

I take my seat next to Chase and draw in as deep a breath as I can manage without spilling out of the top of the bandeau and say, “We’re in love, and—”

Leah cuts me off. “Actually, wait, new idea. Alice, you sit there lookinghot and sexy and, Chase, dear, why don’t we hear it from you?”

“You’ve got it, boss,” Chase says cheerfully. He pulls me in close and says, “We’re in love, and we’re ready to prove it to the whole world.” He punctuates this with a kiss.

The kiss, like all of Chase’s kisses, fills me with a warm, fizzy feeling, like drinking prosecco straight from the bottle on a warm summer evening. I lean into it, trying to enjoy the moment, but I’m conscious of the camera in my face. Finally, Leah calls cut and Chase breaks it off.

“There it is,” Leah says briskly. “And just in time. We’re here.”

The beach is even more perfect up close. It looks like every brochure advertising tropical getaways for the low, low price of your entire life savings.

“Everyone, circle up!” a voice calls, cutting through all the noise and chatter. Up to this point, the production crew has kept all the contestants separate from one another. But now, Leah leads us over to a growing group of couples.

The man who called us together is standing in front with a headset over one ear. Even though he’s wearing casual clothes—chino shorts and a white linen button-down—he seems to radiate authority. His salt-and-pepper hair marks him as older than the other crew members, and while everyone else seems to be scurrying around trying to accomplish two or three things at once, he carries himself with a more languid ease.

Leah’s attention is locked on him. He’s a handsome older guy, a bit like George Clooney if you squint, but Leah seems unimpressed. She observes, “Looks like he’s had his yearly Botox. His forehead’s barely moving.”

The man claps to get everyone’s attention. “Welcome, everyone! What a beautiful group we’ve got here. The casting department really outdid themselves.”

---