Polar Opposite

​“First kiss?”

​Darius’s faint murmur froze Melya in her tracks so completely that she forgot she was currently pinned right on top of him on the cold screening room floor.

​First kiss? Was that seriously his first kiss?

Wait a second... hadn't he almost married Celia? How on earth do you go through a whole relationship all the way to the brink of marriage without a single kiss?!

​“Don’t believe a word he says! He’s a total liar!”

“Hey! How long are you planning to stay parked on him?! Get off before I lose my mind!”

​Celia’s hysterical shrieks and the Prime Minister’s loud commentary bickered back and forth inside Melya’s head. But right through that chaotic mental peanut gallery, a soft, trembling voice squeaked from beneath her:

​“I—I’m really sorry, but could you maybe get up? I’m... a little uncomfortable with everyone staring.”

​Ah, Darius. True to Celia’s description of his warm and friendly persona being nothing more than a well-crafted mask, his voice was doing an exceptional job carrying the act. It was velvety, calm, and oddly soothing. Having gathered his wits, Darius gently shifted Melya to the side and offered a polite hand to help her stand up.

​The surrounding crowd, who had been holding their breath like audience members watching a free rom-com movie, snapped back to reality and bustled over.

​“Are you okay?” Sarah asked, marching up. From her tone, Melya was a hundred percent sure Sarah wasn't actually worried—her eyes were practically sparkling with pure, unfiltered gossip.

​Nearby, the writers’ team surrounding Siren looked like kids in a candy store. Melya could practically see the lightbulbs popping above their heads; this awkward disaster was absolute gold for this dating show.

​Trying her best to ignore the nosy stares and the Prime Minister’s endless chatter in her ear, Melya faced Darius and gave a deep, apologetic bow. “I am so, so sorry. I really didn't mean to do that.”

​Darius, who was mid-conversation with Diandra, shook his head with an awkwardly charming smile. “It’s fine, really! I should have been watching where I was going, too.”

​A faint blush still lingered on his cheeks and ears. Unlike Paul, who radiated a sharp, brooding, textbook-alpha energy, Darius was his polar opposite. His features were soft and slightly asymmetrical, with a subtle cleft chin and a slightly broad nose that somehow suited his full, rosy lips perfectly. His warm honey-brown eyes and deep dimples practically screamed ‘I’m harmless!’

​‘Okay, now I get why Celia fell for him,’

Melya thought to herself.

​“An accident, or was this your calculated strategy to grab his attention?”

​A voice sharp enough to slice glass cut through the room, instantly freezing the next apology on Melya's lips.

​She looked up. Paul was looming right beside Darius. They were roughly the same height, though Darius was slightly slimmer. With one hand shoved casually in his pocket and a cold, arrogant tilt of his head, Paul looked down his nose at her.

​“Were you targeting him from the start? Did you fake that fall on purpose?”

​Melya blinked, dumbfounded. The sudden verbal attack completely wiped out all the dramatic backstory flashbacks running through her mind when she first saw his face before.

​Before she could even open her mouth to defend herself, Paul pressed on, “Did you research the male candidates beforehand? Targeted the most innocent, wealthy guy in the room, didn't you?”

​Before Melya could process the sheer absurdity, Sarah swooped in like a mama bear, stepping right between Melya and Paul to shield her from his sneering glare.

​“And who are you supposed to be? Her accomplice in trapping rich guys?” Paul sneered, unfazed. “Guess the fortune-teller gig isn't paying the bills these days.”

​“You keep your trash mouth—”

​Melya quickly patted Sarah’s shoulder before her friend could unleash a wave of unspeakable curses. Knowing Sarah, she’d have happily engaged in a full-on brawl right then and there.

​To be completely honest, if Celia weren't screaming in her ear to play nice for the sake of their secret mission, Melya would have gladly landed a punch on Paul’s jaw herself. She had zero patience for cold, abrasive jerks; her heart leaned far more toward sweet, attentive guys.

​Taking a deep breath, Melya bowed deeply once more. “I can’t blame you for having a bad impression of me, and I won't force you to believe me. Once again, I sincerely apologize.”

​Yet, beneath Paul's humiliating gaze, a strange, phantom ache stabbed at her chest—like a thousand tiny needles piercing her heart.

​Why does this hurt so much? Am I really the only one who remembers the past?

​Before the awkward tension could implode, Diandra clapped her hands brightly. “Oh, goodness! Anyone with eyes can see Miss Melya didn't mean to. Right, everyone?”

​The crowd nodded in eager, forced unison.

​“I’m sure you’ll sort out this little misunderstanding on our dating show,” Diandra announced smoothly. “And perfect timing—the rest of the contestants are heading up from the lobby right now!” She quickly ushered Melya, Darius, and Paul toward their assigned seats for the briefing.

​Paul’s expression remained thunderous. It took two staff members and a gentle nudge from Darius to finally persuade him to sit down.

​While everyone was distracted by Paul’s drama, Darius quietly leaned over toward Melya. Careful not to make direct skin contact, he poked her shoulder lightly with the very tip of his index finger and whispered with a subtle smile:

​“Apology accepted. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

​With that, Darius turned back to the staff, smoothly chatting and tossing light jokes at Paul to thaw the icy mood in the room.

​Then, like a chilling whisper from a ghost, Celia’s desperate voice echoed loudly in Melya’s ear once more:

​“Don’t be fooled, Melya! He’s evil! HE IS EVIL!”

***

Just like Diandra said, all the show’s contestants finally gathered around the big meeting table.

​Once everyone arrived, the crew politely asked all assistants and extra staff to leave the room so they could get down to business.

​“Alright, everyone! First off, thanks a bunch for coming,” Diandra said with a big smile. “And an even bigger thank you for agreeing to join our show!”

​She clicked her laser pointer toward the screen, pulling up a slide show about the whole program—the concept, how it works, and the shooting schedule.

​Implausible: The Millionaire and the Shaman.

​The big idea? Put two totally different worlds together: female shamans who live by ghosts and gut feelings, and super rich guys who run purely on logic.

​They’d all be shipped off to a isolated island for two weeks, completely cut off from the outside world to try and find love. The shamans would use their creepy supernatural intuitions, while the rich guys would use their logical brainpower to judge their dates.

​As Diandra kept talking, Melya couldn’t help but roll her eyes in her head—especially when Diandra asked them to act like complete strangers during the grand opening shoot.

​Melya sneaked a look at Darius and Paul. Darius looked super attentive, nodding politely at everything. Paul, on the other hand, was still staring at Melya with pure hate in his eyes.

​Good luck hiding that angry face once the cameras start rolling, Melya thought, giving Paul a quiet little snort. That made his eyes pop wide open in instant annoyance.

​Truth be told, as annoying as Paul was, Melya could never actually hate him. Honestly, Paul was one of the few good things in a past that had treated her pretty badly.

​“And that’s the main idea!” Diandra said, clapping her hands. “By the way, no need to introduce yourselves just yet. You can do that on the island. Right now, we’ll call you one by one for a quick chat.”

​A few crew members walked over to guide everyone to a comfy waiting room.

​What a weird setup, Melya thought. If they wanted it to be a surprise meeting, why put us all in the same room before the interviews?

​Too lazy to ask, Melya kept her mouth shut. She’d just ask Sarah to check with Diandra about this weird decision later.

​The first guy called in was wearing a bright Manchester United jersey. Talk about super casual.

​“Let’s go, Miss Melya,” Siren said, leading her down the hall. The whole way there, Siren kept chatting away, swearing the show was going to be super fun.

​“Trust me! You’re gonna love this concept!”

​Melya just smiled and nodded, not having the heart to point out how silly their ‘secret first meeting’ plan actually was.

​Just as Melya was about to step into her waiting room, a soft hand tapped her shoulder, making her stop dead in her tracks.

​Standing behind her was a tiny girl dressed in full gothic style. She didn’t even reach Melya’s shoulder. She was clearly another contestant, and judging by the teardrop earring she wore, Melya could instantly sense a trapped ghost inside it.

​“I know we’re not supposed to talk yet,” the girl said with a cute grin, “but my mouth just can’t keep a secret!”

​She motioned for Siren to give them a second. Completely outmatched by her cheerful energy, Siren had to back off.

​The girl stepped in really close. Despite her dark makeup, her face was super cute.

​She gestured for Melya to lean down. Thinking there was no harm in listening, Melya leaned over.

​The girl reached out, covered the hairpin in Melya’s hair with her hand, and whispered softly:

​“Be careful with the ghost inside your hairpin. Not everything she says is true.”

​With a bright smile, the girl stepped back, gave a cute wave, and walked away—leaving Melya standing there, frowning in total confusion.

​Did... did she just warn me to watch out for Celia?