Blind Date (1)

In the right wing of the Beloved Imposter Mansion, the four celebrities and Larry were seated in their luxurious chairs, anticipating smiles on their faces. There was a sizeable turnout in the livestream and the viewers were appropriately warmed up. It was time to get the show started.

"The first assignment is..." M.J. flipped her cue card over. "'Blind Date'!"

[Umm... that sounds kinda basic]

[Was not expecting that]

[And another one bites the dust]

[sigh]

[Oh, why can I not conquer love?]

[And I might've thought that we were one]

Before the viewers got derailed, M.J. attracted their attention by standing up as though she was hosting onstage.

"We've all heard the sayings 'appearances don't matter' and 'don't judge a book by its cover', but are those really true? This assignment was designed to challenge such claims—to prove that humans are and will always be visual animals," she said. "Contestants will be randomly paired together and blindfolded over the course of one date. After that, they will gather and guess who was their date based on appearances alone. Whoever makes the correct guess will gain a head start in the overall rankings."

"Sounds interesting! I've never been on a literal blind date," Brady commented.

"Me neither, but this one will test the contestants' analytical skills on the fly. And I'd say the stakes are higher than your average blind date," M.J. said.

Brady nodded. "True... I wonder how the contestants will react to being blindfolded."

***

It was pitch black.

As Iris was led downstairs and through winding corridors by a complete stranger, her other senses were eerily amplified. Every footstep, every breath, and even the low buzzing of the tiny drone behind her all felt like preludes to a horror movie.

She shouldn't have felt grateful for the cute froggy sleep mask. How could she have known she'd be blindfolded by it!

She could practically see tomorrow's headlines: 27-year-old Shut-in Falls Prey to Dating Show Scam; Found Dead in Basement of Beloved Imposter Mansion.

Wait... Did this house have a basement?

Who was she kidding, all mansions had basements.

Why, oh why did she get tempted by the cash prize?

They stopped walking.

Knock. Knock.

"We're coming in," said her guide in a low voice.

'The Illegal Dealing Voice™,' Iris noted.

Before her mind wandered down a rabbit hole of illicit mafia romances, the hand at her elbow tugged her over the threshold.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Four steps later, Iris was assisted to sit.

"Ahem."

A man cleared his throat.

Iris's spine stiffened. This wasn't her guide's voice.

What in the world was all this about?

As though she read her thoughts, Iris's guide spoke. "Good afternoon, contestants. My name is Karen and I'll be your server for today. Your first assignment is 'Blind Date'. For two hours, you will experience blackout dining while getting to know each other. Later on, all twelve contestants will have to guess their date's identity based on nothing but their appearances."

Iris sighed in relief—she wasn't being sold to the highest bidder. Good.

"What happens if I remove the blindfold?" the man—her date—asked. His voice was husky like Skyler's, but different somehow. She was curious what he looked like.

"During your date, removing your blindfolds as well as exposing your names or clues about your appearances will lead to immediate elimination from the show," Karen replied.

"Got it."

"Noted," Iris added.

"Now, which menu option would you like: Vegetarian, meat-based, or fish-based?" 

After they placed their orders, Karen left the room, which Iris deduced from her fading footsteps and the soft 'click' of a door closing. With Karen gone, she was assaulted with the fact that she was here alone.

"I guess it's just us." 

Oh right, she wasn't.

"Since we aren't allowed to divulge our names, what should I call you?" her date asked. 

"Um..." Iris fiddled with her bracelets, the only objects whose positions she was certain of in this unknown place.

'Think, think, think!'

Cling! Cling! Cling!

"Is there a bell in here?"

Iris stopped fiddling. "No, it's—"

'Wait, does this count as a clue about my appearance? It does right? Yeah, it does.'

"Hello?"

"Sorry," Iris babbled. "I'm kinda nervous. It's been awhile since I went on a date."

"Understandable," the stranger laughed. He had a nice laugh. If only she could take off her froggy mask and see him. "I'll go first. My alias will be Bob."

"Why plain ol' Bob?" Iris wondered. She had been expecting something ridiculous. Or a fictional character's name. Like Pilot Moon or Luke Earthrunner.

"To keep your expectations low."

"What? Why?"

Laughter floated into her ears, and she pictured a cocky smirk on Bob's face as he answered, "Then you'll be blown away by me when the blindfold comes off."

"Oh, that trick... Good one," Iris laughed along. She also decided on her alias. "By the way, I think I'll go with 'Rain'."

"As in raindrops?"

"I was thinking more about..." She rubbed one of her charms subconsciously, the cool metal soothing her as usual. "...Rainbow."

"Sounds nice."

This was when the awkward silence would catch up to them, right?

Defying expectations, Bob kept the conversation flowing. "I'm a stockbroker. Top of my game in the city, if I do say so myself. Are you planning to invest? If so, I recommend Weston Corps. Their shares are on the rise recently due to their involvement in the technological sector. They invented the Bumblebee drones used in filming here, by the way. What's your profession, Rain?"

"I'm a writer. Freelance," she replied.

"Must pay peanuts, then."

It was true, but the dismissive way Bob had phrased it made Iris bristle. "Actually—"

As if realising his mistake, Bob hastily interjected, "Oh, I meant no offence. To each their own, but personally I don't mind being the higher earner in a relationship."

"This is literally our first date," she pointed out.

"Which is why I'm setting things straight," he said calmly. "Do you know many couples break up over financial imbalace? I'm just saying you don't have to worry about that if you're with with me..."

While he talked, Iris tentatively felt around the tabletop before her. It was pretty bare except for some basic utensils and a glass of half-full water. She closed her hands around it and took a sip, her bracelets slipping down her arm in a cacophony of soft jingles.

"I take it you're the type who maps out their whole relationship?" she asked after hearing his personal and professional goals for the future.

"Nothing wrong with planning ahead—that's what stocks are about, too. In both cases, knowing when to invest and when to cut your losses can save a lot of people from getting hurt."

"But a relationship isn't an investment." Iris set down her glass with a 'thud'. "You can't measure emotions with math and logic—they simply happen. It's not as simple as choosing who to invest your emotions in."

"You date someone because they're suitable, and you break up once you find out otherwise. What is so complicated about it?" Bob refuted.

Iris scoffed. "If emotions could be controlled, they wouldn't be called 'emotions'. Sure, you could write down a list about your ideal type, find someone who fits it to a T, plan a life with them... But if those were calculated decisions, there will always be something missing.

"If you truly had feelings for someone, suitability wouldn't matter—or rather, you would find a way to disregard it. Your ideal type would end up becoming whatever they were like, and you might picture a future with them. And even if you realise it's time to let go when they aren't worth your love anymore, you won't necessarily be able to because..." Iris bit her lips, suddenly grateful that the blindfold prevented anyone from seeing her eyes. "Because you can't just program your heart to stop caring."

Knock. Knock.

"Karen here," the voice outside called. "I'm coming in with the food."

The sound of a serving cart being wheeled in could be heard, and Iris felt an impulse to convey her words before they could be dismissed under the pretext of dining.

"Bob, have you never loved for the sake of loving before?"

The clinking of crockery against the table swallowed Bob's silence.

While Karen set their plates and informed them where everything was, Iris momentarily regretted letting her emotions get the best of her.

She should have changed the subject. This was too much for a first date.

After Karen left, Bob spoke.

"Miss Rain. You aren't here with your ex, are you?"