RealiTV Chapter 2

2.

The following day, the housemates sat all together, minus Marion to discuss what had happened.
“Swear on your life?” David asked.
They all nodded. The cameras watched them. And yet no voice tried to stop them talking. They didn’t realise that was the first weird thing to happen. It was against the rules to discuss the voting.
“If we all voted for Marion, why is she still here?” Kevin asked, picking his teeth.
“Robin must have done something bad to have the votes overruled.” Claire offered.
“Do you think he’s been cancelled?”
An awkward silence descended as Marion poked her head around the corner with a sheepish grin. Sheepish might not have been the word, more like a wolf in sheep’s clothing grin.
“Hey guys,” she said brightly. “I just wanted to thank you all for giving me a second chance.”
The others exchanged a glance again, but they didn’t reply. Her cheeks burned brightly.
“Oh,” was all she managed before turning on her heel and marching off.
“Marion, don’t go,” muttered Gemma, not meaning a syllable of it.

Marion marched her way to the Confessional booth. A completely white padded room, with a large egg chair suspended from the ceiling. It hung, facing an imposing black circle where a camera was hidden. Marion flung herself dramatically into the chair, and it swung back and forth. She waited and the door behind her hissed closed after exactly 12 seconds. Had Marion been in a calmer state, or maybe if she had had a more obsessive attitude, she might have noticed the door shut two seconds slower than usual.

“Hello?” she asked. The silence stretched. The voice that had been dubbed “the Watcher” by fans of the show didn’t immediately respond. For reasons she couldn’t explain, her stomach twisted suddenly.
“Is something going on?” she asked.
Marion. What’s the problem?
“I want to leave. They don’t want me here. They voted me out. I want out. Screw this.”
I’m afraid I can’t do that Dave. I mean, Marion.
“What? You can’t keep me here!”
The doors hissed back open mockingly. They went slower on purpose. Marion had to wait at the doorway until they opened wide enough for her to get through.
“Let me out of here!” Marion yelled, smacking the walls. Kevin lifted his head from the couch and watched her pass before snorting and farting.
Gemma, Claire and David came to the bedroom doors to watch. Marion banged on the exit doors and screamed.
Nothing happened. And then:
Contestants. Make your way to the weight room.
It was time for another challenge. Marion screamed and sank to the floor.
“Come on, Marion.” Claire tried.
With no other choice, Marion stormed into the Weight room. The others were already reading the task. Kevin, knowing that he wouldn’t be winning any physical task had taken it upon himself to read the task instead.
“Take your positions around the hanging punching bags. There is a foot hold to rest one foot. Hug the bad and stay there for as long as you can. Last one standing wins.”

The divide between excited and disappointed contestants wasn’t surprising at all. Those that planned to endorse their own brand of gym gear after this weren’t at all excited. Those that planned to go to the gym once a year and then talk about their “totally active life” looked thrilled to show off their muscles.
“Oh. One more thing. The winner gets to choose the treats for the week.” Kevin finished and tossed the task aside. Even Marion lost the sour look on her face.

As they all took their places, Evan was the last one to mount the bag, having helped everyone into place first. His hands stayed in appropriate places and his eyes never strayed from the ladies eyes. The timer began to count upwards. It wasn’t long before everyone was feeling the burn and feeling very bored.
None of the crew were watching. They had bigger problems.

On every station, and on every livestream on the internet across the world, most countries were holding urgent press conferences. World leaders were hiding in the wings, uncertain and afraid and just waited for someone to save them. In an attempt to show unity, they had all agreed to go on at the same time. Predictably, the Australian leader was running late. No one was even sure if he was currently in his country or on holiday in the Bahamas. The US President was grumbling that he was a busy man. That he had to make the country impressive again. His flame red hair flapped and matched his skin tones. Australia finally gave the all clear that they hadn’t lost another prime minister in the ocean. So as one, the leaders all strode out to their respective podiums. Some of them struck more of an impressive figure of authority than others.

Crowds gathered in every public space, in work places and in their pyjamas. The world all watched on, holding their breath as one.
“My fellow countrymen. I stand before you as your humble leader with some news that will be hard to hear. Nine days ago, two men presented at their local GPs with identical symptoms. These men have never men, nor have their paths ever crossed. This leads us to believe two things. One, there are more cases of this mystery illness out there and two, that this new disease is highly contagious.
Globally, we your leaders are coming together to ask you all to please stay home. If you are feeling unwell, stay home. If you are dying, stay home. If you’re just a bit anti-social, stay home, but you were going to anyway. There is no need to panic. Through fast action, we all believe that the disease hasn’t spread very far yet. Anyone who has had close contact with these men are being contacted by local authorities as we speak. Of the 273 close contacts already identified, only 84 have not been contacted. The other 189 are self-isolating. However, all 189 are already presenting with symptoms.
We don’t have many details of what symptoms to look out for yet. There are also no tests available to discern if you have the mystery illness or if they are just unwell.
What we do know so far, is that there is no cure. And there is no treatment. The only treatment is prevention. That’s why we ask you to stay home. Stay away from others. You don’t need to stockpile or rush to the shops. You don’t need anything more than you already have in the house. This will all be over in a matter of days if we all do what is right. And for God’s sake, please don’t sneeze into other people’s mouths anymore. Thank you.”

20 seconds after the live streamed press conference ended, supermarkets erupted into bedlam. They sold out worldwide of essential supplies within an hour. Fights over soap and rice were filmed and, on the internet, faster than a fat kitten chasing its tail. Pharmacies were overrun with customers coughing. Hospitals had massive influxes of people. Before the day was over, teens had started the #mouthsneeze challenge which was even more horrendous than it sounded.

The slow-burning panic was subdued when on every social media site, the US President had released his own detailed “proof” that everyone else was lying and creating “unreal” news.
    - There is no proof that this so called disease even exists.
     -It was probably the Chinese
     -Or the Asuans
     -Or Italians.
     -They want us to be scared so they can take over the planet.
     -We will beat them by being smarter.
     -Go about your lives and let no-one take your freedom
     -We are Americans.
     -Conbrono
     -There isn’t any illnesses in the world.
     -#unrealnews
There was a lot more after that, and of course Conbrono started trending. The serious nature of the situation had already been destroyed.
You would think that there wasn’t a person alive who were more interested in a bunch of fame-hungry housemates trapped in a rich house with good lighting than the fate of the real world. And yet, halfway through the first breaking news broadcast, people turned off in droves and the ratings for The Eye broke all previous records.

Inside the house, most housemates had given up on the challenge. Kevin relaxed on the sidelines after having lasting 30 seconds which was a personal best. He cheered the others on. With gritted teeth, Marion held on, glaring Gemma down. Gemma was her main competition.
“If you want to leave, why try to win?” Dave taunted.
“I get to choose the food you eat. Then I can leave you with nothing but sprouts and then leave.”
Gemma tightened her grip. She hated sprouts. Butch fell off. He grumbled and went to join Kevin, Claire, Sonia and the ever silent Evan who patted him on the back. They all settled back to watch the three way shoot out.

It took another two hours for Dave to fall off. The after another thirty minutes, Marion had lost all feelings in her hands, and she fell off. Gemma skipped away, hand in hand with Claire to the Confessional. Inside the confessional, the menu and order form for the week’s food lay. Gemma wiped away the previous weeks order from the laminated page. Gemma snatched the menu and they both chattered about how to screw the others over the most.
“Get the meat tray, Dave will like that.” Gemma started. “We won’t get tea bags. Can you imagine their faces?”
“You drink tea too,” Claire pointed out.
“So?”
They were allowed four luxury items as many staples as they required and a personal gift. They discussed it for a while before agreeing.
“We’re getting two of everything, then the meat pack, the champagne, the sushi platter, and the fondue set. What extra gift do you want?” said Claire.
“We could choose to nominate someone, but I am getting a bit bored of nominating Kev.”
“Yeah, seven weeks in a row. It’s almost impressive now. I bet the viewers love him.” Claire flinched, waiting to be reprimanded. Nothing happened.
“What about the white room option?” Gemma pointed out.
Claire read the options out loud. “The winner will select one housemate to enter the white room. This is a room that is completely white and void of all stimulation. If the housemate fails to stay in the room for more than 24 hours, then they will be evicted. If they stay in there for longer than 24 hours, more money starts being added into the prize pot for the winner.”
They shared a look.
“We need someone incredibly patient.” Gemma mused.
At the same time, their eyes met. “Evan!”
Happy with their choices, they turned to the camera.
And waited.
And waited.
They exchanged a glance.
“Hello?” Gemma called.
The little blinking red light finally appeared. No voice greeted them. Gemma and Claire placed their order without a second thought. They sent Evan to the confessional while they filled in the others about their upcoming selections. They thought that the next few weeks were going to be amazing. It would amaze a lot of people, but not in the way they expected.