The Contestant

The Tape

The small screen, for a time, displayed only static. When the lawyer’s intern finally hooked in the dusty VCR, the tape was inserted. Footage from the week before. It was played back, broken up by scanlines and frequent, jittery cuts. A strange fragment of a memory that was still very much fresh in Melissa’s mind.

“Sorry about the quality.” Mr. Runch adjusted his perfect suit as he sat back in his wide leather chair. “Easiest way to submit this before the jury is by tape. So, are you ready?”

Melissa let out a breath, though it may have come out more as a sigh. She nodded and watched the tape rewind back to the very beginning. The gameshow logo flashed across the screen, the volume was increased, and as the all-too-familiar jingle played out, Melissa took a few deep breaths. It wasn’t nerves – not exactly. An anticipation. An excitement.

The Show

“Welcome back, to America’s most viewed and highly rated dating program! Before the break, we were about to announce the 14th winner of the annual Little Black Book contest!”

Two women stood on stage, tall and proud, like trophies to be won. They wore elaborate, sparkling dresses, each showing as much of their youthful skin as they covered. Before them was an array of blinding lights, behind that, the live audience, cheering like a riled crowd at a sports game.

The host strode onto the stage, a troupe of finely dressed men following loosely behind. He waved to the audience, the smile on his face, infectious.

“We’ve been watching these two girls for over six months. Seen their journey, watched them make and break friendships, live their lives as a family, cut off from the world!” The host, as smooth and clear as his voice was, shouted down into the mic as if it was a wrestling match. “Thirty started, only two remain! Tonight, we will be deciding which one of these two beautiful women will be the one to go into the Little Black Book!”

The gameshow logo flashed again; music played – a transition for the show. For the half-minute while the studio waited in an awkward silence, Melissa could remember the look of contempt from the contestant next to her. Taylor Cunningham. An absolutely stunning person, both in her looks, and the warmth of her personality. Yet she was in this contest as well, going for the same prize Melissa was. The ill-will between them was obvious – regardless, Melissa regretted it.

The tape showed none of that, of course. Rather, an edited recap of the past season was shown. The other contestants were named, some of them shamed. Emotional music played as the small group of competing women dwindled. Tensions rose and settled, friendships were indeed made – and the majority broken. Then the crux of the show was reiterated, as it had been every episode.

“When the thirty women enter, they didn’t just agree to live together for six months – they put together a pot of $20,000 each! Now, tonight, we will decide not only which woman belongs in any rich bachelor’s Little Black Book, but which woman will be taking home the prize of over half a million dollars!”

When the stage was the focus of the show again, the awkward tension immediately dissipated. The crowd settled to a murmur. The host, still mugging the camera, stood proudly before the eight men that had judged the competition. Melissa and Taylor straightened their backs.

It had been a long night, and an even longer year – but the winners would be announced soon.

“Before we announce the winners, we’d like to hear a few words from our contestants. Taylor?” The host shuffled over to Taylor, putting the mic right up to her face. Taylor scrunched up her face at the sudden movement, then let a wide, warm smile creep across her face.

“I just want to say – this has been an amazing experience!” Taylor said, bending a little at the knees. “No matter who wins, we’ve all learned something from this, and I’m so excited I got to be a part of it!”

Taylor looked to Melissa with that same smile, but with no warmth behind the eyes.

“And how about you, Melissa? Any final words at the end of this road?”

“No.” Melissa cleared her throat in an attempt to drown out the vocal surprise of the crowd. “No, I don’t have anything to say.”

The host held the microphone to her mouth for just a few seconds longer, his face, interrogative. It was as if she had just gone off-script, for a show that was always supposed to be not scripted.

The host cleared his throat, glancing down at his shoes.

“Well, thank you Melissa. That was a very enlightening response.” The surprise in his voice was palpable. The surprise from the audience, even more so. That sweet, gentle girl that had worked her way up to the stage, had just said no. It was almost as if they couldn’t comprehend it. “It certainly won’t win you any favors with the fellas, but hey, what have these six months been about anyway? Dating?”

That remark sent a wave of chuckles across the studio audience, who then orderly hushed themselves at an invisible cue. Melissa kept her proud composure.

Another invisible cue, and the eight men, dressed in fine suits and groomed with plain but neat haircuts, began conferring amongst themselves.

“Well, the bachelors have just started the judging process. In just a few moments, the next winner of the Little Black Book contest will be decided.” The host punctuated each word as he spoke, and tense, studious music befell the stage.

Of course, it had all already been decided days before – at least, Melissa heavily expected. If everything went according to plan, her earlier indignation shouldn’t impact the decision. She hoped.

The music eased after only a few moments. The men returned to their formation, clasped hands in front of waists, straight back, and a slimy smile. With a few off-the-microphone comments to add tension, the host returned to the camera.

“We have a winner, ladies and gentlemen.” The lights dimmed; a drum-roll played off screen, microphones picked up the gasps and bated breaths of the audience. When Melissa glanced to Taylor, she had her eyes closed. Melissa shut her own as well. “The winner, of the 14th Little Black Book contest, is…”

The drumroll reached a crescendo, and silence filled the room for a solid second.

“Melissa Williams!”

The audience roared into applause. Confetti dropped from the ceiling, and a stage hand quickly ushered himself onto the stage to present Melissa with a small, gimmicky trophy. The cameras zoomed in on her shocked expression, ignoring Taylor entirely.

The noise was deafening, an unwanted cacophony of praise. Melissa held strong. A sash was forced over her head, and she was gently nudged towards the front of the stage, where a blinding spotlight highlighted her. After some time, enough time for the cameras to pan, for the audience to settle, the host approached Melissa, holding the microphone close to her face.

“You’ve done it, Melissa! You’ve proven yourself worthy to be in any rich bachelor’s Little Black Book. I can’t imagine what’s going through your head – but why don’t you give us a few words? Tell us what you’re planning to do with the money. Maybe you’re eyeing one of our fine gentlemen over here?” The host clasped his hand over her shoulder. “And please, maybe a little more detail this time?”

A placid laugh from the audience.

Melissa smiled, taking the mic off the host with the grace the audience had come to expect.

“Actually, no.” Melissa started. “I don’t think I’ll use that money to try and date one of your fine bachelors. I’m going to use it to help myself.”

The host raised his eyebrows, both in confusion and frustration. She could tell he was listening through his ear piece for advice on how to respond.

“You know, education. There’s something I’ve been meaning to start researching for so long, but…it’s hard to come across this sort of money. You know?” Melissa continued. She could tell by the fact the host hadn’t energetically redirected her, that the studio was giving her a chance to continue. That was a mistake. She seized that mistake.

“Do you know how much it costs to just consult with a lawyer? Let alone get one to agree to open up a lawsuit with you. Did you also know what happens when those cameras are turned off?” Melissa pointed directly at a camera, hoping to point to the audience. There was trouble now – the host began nervously pacing towards her, his hand held open. He was mouthing something, but Melissa started across the stage. “You’d be disgusted, actually. Well, maybe not – because none of you seem disgusted by this show to begin with.”

Melissa was now actively avoiding the host. She pushed on.

“This show is manipulation. This show is sexual labor – this show is disgusting!” Melissa finally stopped and stood strong as the host and a stagehand all-but attempted a tackle. “I’m going to use this money to get this show shut down!”

The image flickered and froze, a scanline cutting right through Melissa’s triumphant face. The tape may have ended there, but Melissa remembered what came next. The jeers from the audience, the rough removal by security. She most fondly remembered the look on Taylor’s face – not one of contempt, but one of gratitude. Of relief.

  The Little Black Book

“So, that’s the big issue.” Mr. Runch tapped the screen. “They’re saying this outburst – er, this speech you made. It was premeditated. They’re saying you entered the show to do this, on purpose.”

Melissa crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat – not nearly as exquisite as Runch’s.

“I don’t see why that’s a problem.” Melissa replied. “I can do whatever I want with the money. It’s taxed, isn’t it?”

Mr. Runch pinched the bridge of his nose. He seemed frustrated, but more than that, deep in thought.

“They’re arguing it’s fraud. Now, I’m not saying you don’t have a case here, but –” Mr. Runch chewed on his words for just a second, enough for Melissa to interject.

“It wouldn’t be a federal case. We’d be addressing this in the civil court, right?” Melissa said. Mr. Runch nodded.

“That’s right. You’d have to open a lawsuit, you’d be suing them, and – well, I don’t know if you have the money. I know, I know – you won a significant amount, but they can afford to stall you out, Ms. Williams.” Mr. Runch clasped his hands together, letting a breath out from between his teeth. “I’d love to help you, Ms. Williams. My heart goes out from what you’ve told me, but you can’t afford this right now.”

Melissa smiled, and in a smooth motion, flopped a small, black notebook on the desk. Mr. Runch considered it with curiosity.

“What’s this?” He asked, accepting Melissa’s unspoken permission to flick through it.

“My own little black book.” Melissa was smirking now, far too proud of herself. “Fourteen names. The previous winners of the contest. I’ve been in contact with them for a long time, Mr. Runch. Many of them still have the money. Some of them have even invested it, grown their fortune.”

Melissa pressed her hands against the desk and leaned forward as slightly as she could.

“They all want what I want, Mr. Runch. To take that show down. To make an example of it.”

Mr. Runch took some time before raising his eyes to meet her own.

“Ms. Williams. I believe I may be able to help you with this.”

“I thought you might.”

Melissa leaned back in her chair, satisfied. It was about to be an even longer year to come, but everything went according to plan.

Her only hope now, was that next time, it wouldn’t take millions of dollars.