The Popular One

All across America, on this Tuesday night, an event shall take place like no other, and it all starts with a box. The Popular One is the latest of reality trash television. A show that scratches at the itch to see strangers lust, consume an aberrant amount of alcohol and become belligerent, preach both lies and truth, and persuade to their own means. Twelve contestants, all from different walks of life, try to win one-hundred thousand dollars to be the final Popular One.

Rebecca and her husband of six years, Charles, sat at their couch and waited to watch tonight’s new episode. One hour and a half is what they committed. This is what seventy percent of the country committed to from 8pm to 9:30pm every Tuesday, for the past four weeks. This was the topic of discussion every Wednesday morning while pouring a fresh cup of coffee in a small office common room. Last week’s episode included a near fist fight amongst two contestants. The reason for the almost physical altercation was never a valid argument. It almost always included two or more people who wanted the camera to themselves. Needless to say, ratings went up, and it was trending. They performed their spectacle, and one was voted off the show. This was not a fan favorite, so tensions amongst the viewers were steady as a group of eight were left at their chance at a cash prize and miniscule fame. Some who chose to pay a weekly fee, were able to view a selection of twenty-four-hour cameras. Additional purchases could be made for one-on-one chats and private videos. The concept of merging all these guilty pleasures into one show brought much controversy, but also brought much revenue. Guilty pleasures indeed. On tonight’s episode, live, the final eight were to be treated to a dinner party. A dinner party of grand foods, grand fare, and the illusion of wealth.

Those who paid the premium fees to constantly observe the remaining contestants witnessed a mixture of dull cleaning, day drinking, and a hint of possible relationships brewing by the pool. Perhaps these courtships were not forged in the most promising of ways, but no one expects star crossed lovers Romeo and Juliet, when they are treated to booze induced romances.

Live at 8pm, the remaining contestants left their individual rooms within this mansion specifically refurbished for this first season of The Popular One. It was becoming a mecca for fans and those who wish to vocalize their love or hatred for the show and the contestants. The extent at which a human would go to personalize love or dismay is still a thing of embarrassed wonder.

As the camera panned to each contestant some chose to show off more skin than others while one comically wore ducktails and a top hat of a hideous shade of green. Each approached the dining room, one fit for a family of twenty, and found a new long table, exquisitely prepared and outfitted for a night of fine dining. One by one, each positioned themselves in front of a name placard placed perfectly at the head of each plate. Kyle, one of the older contestants, noticed a few puzzled faces. “You start from the outside and work your way in for each dish.”

The meal was exquisite. The end of this treat was coming to a close and everyone was to retire to the living area for more drinks. Before anyone could initiate the excuse to leave the table, the doorbell rang. It startled some as the doorbell hadn’t been used since their arrival four week ago. Kyle again spoke. “Right, well let’s all adjourn for drinks and music. I’ll get the door.” He didn’t want to be the one to lead this evening’s events, but it seemed he was the only one who knew how to. Perhaps the cameras continuously on him would gain favor on the viewer’s voting power this night. Perhaps this was some sort of test, set by the show. He excused himself and went towards the front double doors.

Outside, the California sun was setting, presenting a pink and orange hue upon the sky. At Kyle’s feet, a box wrapped in thick brown paper. Around this box was thick twine tied neatly to a bow. Attached on top was an envelope placed underneath the twine. Even more tempting was the writing around the box. On either side read “Do Not Open.”

The box was placed on a small table adjacent to the front door. The box was an average size as one would think a box would be. One foot by one foot by one foot, it sat perfectly on the table. Kyle smartly read what was in the envelope first. A set of instructions were inside.

Place me in the middle of the room, undo the twine. If others insist on opening the box, give them this note. As one may see Do Not Open, another may see Open. What you will find inside will be yours and yours alone to witness. Enjoy your evening.

Kyle nervously placed the note in his pocket and picked up the light weighted box. To him, it seemed empty. Before he made his way to the music in the large living area. He decided to undo the twine tying the brown paper to the box. Underneath the neatly wrapped twine and thick brown paper wrapping was the simple brown box with writing, to him, it still read Do Not Open. He followed the instructions carefully, making sure to exaggerate his motions, perhaps to look good for the cameras strategically and discreetly placed around the house. Kyle placed the brown box in the middle of the room, on an ottoman, and said nothing.

“Well that’s weird.” One contestant said while sipping her wine. “Why would they send a box for us not to open?” Those words rang through Kyle’s ears and responded. “Okay so you see, Do Not Open. Who sees, Open?” Four of them raised their hands. “Okay, you’re just messing with me.” One scolded as he went for the box. “Wait! I’m supposed to show you this.” Kyle handed the handwritten note to him in a hope that the note didn’t somehow change to whoever was the reader. A moment passed. “Okay, so, you are serious in saying that you see Do Not Open?” A younger man asked handing the note to the next person. “I am not messing with you. It says, Do Not Open.” Came a sassy and direct tone from Kyle’s back.

Forty-five minutes into the episode, Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook battled post after post. What is on the box? Viewers all across the nation, too, were torn between Open and Do Not Open. Rebecca and Charles sat in awkward silence as they both disagreed. It couldn’t be possible. “It must be a trick.” Rebecca reassured her husband. Then suddenly, their doorbell rang then a knock. Their camera fixed and static to show anyone approaching their home, showed no one, but a package. A brown paper wrapped box sat at their doorstep.

The eyes of millions were glued to their screens as bright white words began to scroll at the bottom of their favorite viewing devices. The Popular One will now be live indefinitely for your viewing pleasure. Thank you. Across the viewing world, nervousness swam the back of people’s necks as they read the scrolling message and heard doorbells and knocks at their doors.

At the mansion, with camera’s fixed, a younger man sat at the corner of the couch. He drank healthy swigs of his craft beer and watched as the other seven contestants argued about the nonsense of a box saying one thing to one person and another to someone else. It was time to prove that this was nothing more than a clever illusion. He quickly sat up and grabbed the box from the ottoman and spun around to the mansion’s foyer. “This is bullshit.” With those words he tore open the tightly folded top of the box.

A smell of lavender, or perhaps a different soothing smell emitted from an automatic air freshener within Rebecca and Charles’s home. They were too focused on their own dismay to notice the horror that aired on screen.

The young man stood, muscles tensed, veins began to bulge as he stared without a blink into the opened box. Tears began to trinkle down his cheeks as he could not move, mouth full agape. All stood around and tried desperately to pull the box away or move him away from his standing position and onto a chair, but his body felt fixed to the floor. Kyle looked into his eyes. From the reflection of his brown orbs, Kyle saw images, stills of past events; events he himself haven’t experienced, perhaps this young man’s past or present. Kyle locked into the eyes of another, within the images. A creature of pure void. He could feel the evil in it. Yellow pupils glowed as it stood with a smile, extending beyond the normal parameters of a human’s smile.

The young man snapped into the present reality. “You see, there is nothing in it.” He placed the box in Kyle’s hands and sat back at his location on the couch. In a moment of bewilderment and silence from the other contestant members the young man began to drink from his glass of beer.

Rebecca and Charles glanced at each other and at the box that still sat unopened with the twine perfectly tied. “This must be from our subscription to the show. We get to follow along.” Charles said while undoing the top bow. “But why do I see Do Not Open?” Rebecca placed her hand on top of Charles as he finished untying the thick brown twine. “I don’t know, but I’m opening it.” Charles gently removed Rebecca’s hand from his and slowly unwrapped the brown paper wrapping.

Alarms began to buzz around their temporary mansion home. A woman, one who clearly read Do Not Open, tried for the front door, but the door could not be opened. In a panic, she went for a window. Opening the blinds to the setting California sun, she saw smoke. Patches of smoke, possibly coming from small fires scattered across their wealthy neighborhood. In a feat of desperation, she tried to break the window using a heavy décor object, ugly in appearance, but presented an image of status; it did nothing but bounce from the window and fell hard on the marble floor with a foot shattering thud.

The box, in Kyle’s hands, closed. In the confusion he didn’t see it shut. He looked at the brown box and placed it on the floor. The seven contestants stood around it in silence. Kyle turned to demand answers from the young man who foolishly opened this damned thing, he turned to an empty spot on the couch. The beer lay spilt on the floor. The glass spinning on the coffee table, coming slowly to a stop. Kyle’s heart began to beat faster. His eyes gazed through the living room and to the pool where the young man stood. He turned his head and Kyle bore witness to a sinister smile. The view on everyone’s screen began to split camera angles. Each small rectangular viewed a single contestant.

Rebecca and Charles threw their box across the room. “Did you hear that?” Charles asked, about to open the box, but his actions halted by a growl, emitting from it. “We need to leave.” Rebecca begged, hearing screams from outside their home. “What do we do?” Changing the channels, turning off their phones did nothing to slow the live feed of The Popular One. "What do we do?"