Everyone in the circle chuckles, except the team in brown, directly to my right. The woman, a mom archetype, practically hisses. Her husband clicks his tongue loudly.
Yumi catches my eye, shifting a sidelong glance at them. I nod in solidarity. We’ve just identified them as the worst of allpossibleAdventureversearchetypes: the bickering old-school grumps who will take any opportunity to tell a ball-and-chain joke. At the mention of unions, they both make faces like they’ve just been told the US is reinstituting the draft and middle-aged white people are first up.
The red team might as well be the dictionary entry forbeauty standards. They’re so conventionally attractive that their faces have circled all the way back around to boring. The girl has waist-length hair parted down the middle and a smattering of freckles across her light brown skin that I imagine God took the time to place by hand. Her boyfriend has a mullet and the jawline of someone who (correctly) thinks he can pull off a mullet. I decide to call them the Influencers because if they aren’t already thirst-trapping on social media, they should be.
The yellow team is a mystery to me. The girl looks like a children’s cartoon turned human, short and chubby with rosy cheeks, curtain bangs, and a mustard yellow tee under light-wash overalls. The rest of her auburn hair is pulled up into two fluffy space buns, tied off with yellow ribbons. She’s definitely Quirky, but her partner isn’t the awkward, bow-tie-wearing type that I would expect for that trope. He’s muscular, with dark hair and an even darker expression. It feels wrong to call him “tall” or “intimidating” given the proximity of Team Football, but under most circumstances, he would be both. With his arms crossed, he gives off bodyguard vibes. Team Mystery, I suppose.
I focus back on Aliona as she says, “Don’t forget that you must staywithin sightof your crew members at all times, save for in your hotel room or when you are going to the bathroom. If youbook a flight or a cab, you must book them tickets as well. If you aren’t on camera, you might as well not be here. Any questions?” She stares each of us down individually.
After we obediently say, “No, Aliona,” she signals for the crew to begin setting up. One of the other producers—there are so many who seem to work beneath Aliona, it’s impossible to keep track of their names—adjusts the wire on my mic pack so it’s better hidden.
“Every Adventure, you will get a set amount of money. This money can be used on anything, though I recommend not forgetting about food. Large travel expenses, like hotel stays andeconomy classplane tickets, will be paid by production, via your crew members. However, any in-Adventure transportation, such as train or taxi fare, must come out of your allowance. Any money not used will beforfeitedback to us at the end of each Adventure, so don’t bother hoarding. Yes?”
“Yes, Aliona.”
“When you arrive at the checkpoint each night, we will recap your day in an interview and then a member of production will review the protocol for the night. I want to remind you all that you are expected to act assafelyand, more importantly,respectfullyas possible. This season, we will be traveling to some highly protected destinations, and wedo not want a repeat of Season Fourteen, you understand?”
“Yes, Aliona.”
I scan the teams to see who actually catches the reference and who’s just closing the loop. The green team, a strikingly model-esque couple, are the only ones who seem to understand, noddingsolemnly. They look like elves (Lord of the Rings, not Keebler), and the way they nod in unison only adds to that otherworldliness. They’re tall and slender, with freshly sharpened cheekbones and an air of intensity. The girl’s skin is almost as pale as her icy hair. Her partner’s head is shaved to his scalp, leaving a dark shadow of hair that meets in a severe widow’s peak. The Models. The High Elves.
I’m surprised nobody else draws the connection Aliona has laid out. The story made international headlines when it happened. Even someone with no reality TV interest would have heard of the two brothers who irreparably damaged several items of deep historical significance “as a prank.” It’s the reasonThe Adventureverseisn’t allowed back in Vienna. It was a huge blow to the show’s reputation, which had already been the center of tourism-based discourse for years. It makes sense that the show is extra careful now.
“In a moment, Jonathan St. Pierre and his fiancée, Carolyn Woodward, will greet you and welcome you to the show. Remember, from this moment on, you’re onTheAdventureverse, and when you’re onThe Adventureverse, your only concern should be making good TV. Big smiles, lots of enthusiasm, speak loudly and clearly.”
“Yes, Aliona.”
Aliona tilts her head, listening to her earpiece. “Okay, looks like we’re about ready.” She saunters off, cupping her hands and calling out, “Remember:Big reactions! To camera! Good TV!”
In my mind, the lights dim. Spotlights circle. Strobes flash. Of course, none of this happens, but I imagine it nonetheless.
Then a familiar voice booms over the loudspeaker. “Welcome, intrepid explorers, toThe Adventureverse.”
Chapter 12
OTT
At the words that kickoff every season of our favorite show, I reach for Yumi. It’s involuntary. The second I brush her bare forearm, I redirect my hands to my mouth in overexaggerated shock, pressing the pads of the offending fingers into my lips like that could somehow burn away the evidence of my fingerprints.
The muddled British accent continues, “This season, we’re embarking on a slightly different kind of Adventure.”
“I’m sorry, folks,” a soft voice cuts in. “He’s taken now.”
There’s a flurry of activity as crew members appear around the corner, moving backward. Their cameras are trained on JSP, in a midnight blue tux. Whatever styling product he’s put in his wavy hair is currently fighting for its life against the mountain breeze. His fiancée has an arm linked through his, her lacy white shift dress an unsubtle echo of a wedding gown.
The teams clap, beaming brightly at the happy couple as they take their place at the head of the stage. Before they even make it to their mark, I feel my toothy smile starting to falter from fatigue. I don’t know how beauty queens do this all day.
I stop my brain before it gets distracted by thoughts of the Beauty Queens. Better to catch a spiral early.
“My beautiful other half, Carolyn Woodward, is soon to be Carolyn St. Pierre.”
“And if there are double the St. Pierres,” Carolyn says as she gracefully steps onto her mark, “it’s only fair that there be double the prize money, right, everyone?”
Cameramen fly across the stage, deftly weaving out of each other’s way as they film us.
This is guaranteed screen time, if done correctly. Yumi’s wide-eyed shock is convincing without being—as we say onThe Adventureverseanalysis forums—OTT, over-the-top. I turn to her and mouth,TWO MILLION, like this is all brand-new information.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the cameras lock on us. Easy.
