Beloved Imposter

One month later...

[T-minus 15 minutes]

[Why hasn't it started yet (╥﹏╥) Literally joined the stream half an hour early]

[Hahaha I joined an hour ago]

[Hope BI is as good as advertised. Recent dating shows are pretty disappointing]

[IKR the audacity to dump their existing partners to join a show—]

[Aaaaah can't wait to see the contestants in person!!!!]

[How many r there?]

[12. 2 haven't arrived at the mansion yet]

[A car is pulling up! Who do ya'll think it is?]

[It's red. Def one of the female contestants]

[Chauvinist]

[**** u]

{User23819106 has been silenced for 2 hours}

[Audiences these days are so toxic]

[UGH WHO CARES THE DRIVER IS COMING OUT!!!]

[Looking good]

[Who is she?]

[Iris Tate, I think]

***

Iris stepped out of her car, gaping at the massive dwelling before her.

The Beloved Imposter Mansion looked like something out of an issue of "Ultramodern Homes for the Filthy Rich". If a giant had built it, then it had stacked several glass cuboids with gray stone panels to form a 'T' shape, then topped everything off with a flat, white coloured roof that glistened under the sun.

On either side of the faux grass front lawn, cars of different makes and models were parked in neat rows, presumably the other contestants'. Iris counted ten including hers. Considering it had taken nearly an hour to travel to the city's outskirts from where she lived, and another one to find the elite neighbourhood where this mansion was located, it was a miracle she wasn't the last to arrive.

From where Iris was standing, she could also see a small path that led to the back of the property. However, she had no time for exploring now.

Iris made her way along a short pebble path while keeping an eye on the drone following her. It was the size and shape of a bee—befitting of its name as the Bumblebee drone—and buzzed merrily while filming her. If she hadn't been informed of it beforehand, she might have thought it was the real thing.

Before knocking, Iris waved at the drone, offering a slight smile for the potential audience.

[Aaaaah she waved at me!!!]

[No, she waved at me!]

[Hi Iris!]

[hiii]

[Seriously... She can't even see the comments]

[I wish my eyes were as green as hers]

[I just wish my eyes were green tbh]

[Same (brown eyed girl speaking)]

The door made of one-way glass slid open, revealing a stocky, blonde man wearing an aloha shirt over white trousers. Iris had seen him on TV before.

"Welcome to the Beloved Imposter Mansion!" he greeted warmly. "I'm Lawrence Sullivan, the director. Call me Larry."

"Hi, Larry." Iris shook his outstretched hand, which enveloped hers like a big paw, stepping over the threshold. "I'm Iris. Iris Tate. I'm not late, am I?"

"Not for ten more minutes," Larry answered. "Please, leave your bags in that corner and follow me."

Iris obliged, dragging her two suitcases over to a spot where a dozen colourful luggages were situated. The sound of her footsteps and the suitcase's squeaky wheels pierced the unusual stillness in the mansion. It was freakishly quiet and devoid of life.

"Um... Where's everyone?" Iris asked, unease pooling in her stomach. She liked the quietness of peaceful places, but this was less "zen" and more "suspiciously sleek mansion in the middle of nowhere".

Oh god, she hadn't fallen for some high end scam to kidnap young people to harvest their organs, had she? No, no... Criminals wouldn't be accepting television interviews on renowned channels... No matter how dubious they looked wearing aloha shirts in spring.

Oblivious to Iris's growing wariness, Larry continued walking towards the grand staircase in the middle of the living room, voice echoing slightly as he replied, "The other contestants are upstairs. As for the film crew, you'll meet them soon."

Iris deposited her suitcase with the others, fingers lingering on its handle.

"Don't worry," Larry turned around and reassured her, as though reading her mind. "The staff will send them to your room after a thorough spot check. Can't be too careful, after all."

His eyes suddenly sharpened. "Unless... You brought something you shouldn't have?"

Iris gulped. "Not that I know of."

She'd read the contestant's rulebook sent to her back to back. No electronic devices, junk food, alcohol, and other illegal or harmful substances and objects...

Larry smiled, turning back into the welcoming host in a blink. "Good, good. Come on, let's get going."

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Their steps echoed as they ascended a pristine spiral stairway to the third floor, which opened up into a wide hallway. The door to one room was left open, and Larry waved a hand at it.

"That's the last one, late bird. By the way, the male contestants' rooms are on the second floor, and I sincerely hope you don't pick their locks and invade their privacy using sleepwalking as an excuse," he warned.

'What has Larry dealt with before?' Iris wondered in bewilderment.

Aloud, she assured him, "I don't sleepwalk, and I won't cause any trouble."

"Time will tell."

Rather than rolling her eyes, Iris peeked into her default room and was pleased to see it was bathed in natural light. The table by the window would be perfect for writing if the weekends were as free as her contract promised, whereas the queen sized bed meant plenty of space to roll around to avoid any morning rays that slipped through the navy curtains.

Her musings were interrupted when Larry handed her a smartphone. "This is the custom made Beloved Imposter Phone," he explained. "You'll be notified your assignments through it, so keep it on you at all times. The BI Phone doesn't have any other apps and is programmed for the sole purpose of smooth communication between me and the contestants, so don't even think about it."

"About what?" Iris asked.

Larry huffed, "Leaking pics! Commenting on social media! Stirring up drama online! I know what you contestants are scheming—it won't pass on my show!"

"Don't worry, I'm not interested in that," Iris promised. "I'm here to win fair and square."

'As fairly as a bluffing game allows, anyway.'

"Hmph! You'll be eliminated if I catch you touching any other electronic devices." Only then did Larry let go of the phone.

"Right, I almost forgot—there's paper and a pink envelope on your desk. Write down your three resolutions on this show and seal it in the envelope," he added.

"Will do."

Ding dong!

A distant doorbell rang. Larry's eyes lit up, changing his stern face instantly. "Ah, that must be the last one! Stay in your room for now. You'll receive your first assignment shortly."

"Okay..." Iris said, watching him bound down the stairs.

'What a strange man.'

Her new room was an upgrade from her own back home. Opposite the generously-sized bed was a sliding door wardrobe built into the wall, visually enhancing the space.

Atop the solitary desk was the pink envelope and stationery Larry had spoken of, as well as a pot of artificial flowers. Iris sat down and started writing her three resolutions. The first two were easy: Winning and getting out of her comfort zone. The third was a bit tricky, but she decided to commit to it so she wouldn't have any regrets when the show ended.

When Iris was finished, she slipped the list into the envelope and walked over to the bed while toying with a charm on her left bracelet.

Cling! Cling! Cling!

She should be mentally prepared to meet the other contestants... And Skyler.

How should she approach him? Deliberate avoidance might make them appear suspicious, but it was normal for introverts to avoid strangers right?

Still, there was a difference between setting up barriers and actively steering clear of someone like they had chicken pox. What if the others catch on?

What about pretending not to know him? She did do a stellar job of it at the café back then...

Iris sat on the bed to think, but shifted upon feeling something else. Pulling it out from under the covers, she found...

"A sleep mask?" She held a cute froggy mask in her hands. "How considerate."