Test! Your! Love!!!

The flickering lights of Arthur Avenue gave a fittingly ominous atmosphere to Ryan’s current endeavor. He kept his eyes pinned to the sidewalk, staring at his shoelaces as they whipped the ground with each step. Ignoring the discarded needles and empty broken bottles littering his peripheral vision at all times, Ryan approached the corner of the street and was met with the most beautiful sight. Her white skirt was closer in size to a belt than an actual piece of material for covering one’s body. Her hair was curly and dyed funky colors in peculiar places, with streaks of purple masked under bleach blonde spirals. A bag was slung over her shoulder, a cream white color to match her “skirt”. A cigarette danced lazily between her fingers, coughing up ash as she tapped it and then raised it to her gaunt face for a deep drag. She would wink at any man that passed her street corner, even tantalizing them in front of their spouses or girlfriends. Ryan approached her cautiously. 

“Hello,” he mumbled nervously, not wanting to ask his prepared questions.

“Hey, darling,” she soothed, a rasp to her voice which undoubtedly stemmed from the cigarette she continued to huff. 

“Are you… a… lady of the night?” he said, nearly whispering. She laughed, possibly trying to alleviate some of his nervousness.

“Yes, sweetie, I’m a ‘lady of the night’,” she said, mocking his question in a teasing way. “I assume I’m the first one you’ve ever come to?” 

“No,” Ryan admitted. “You’re the fifth one tonight.”

“Wow,” she muttered, actually seeming taken aback by this. “You’ve got quite the stamina, darling.”

“Well, I’m not exactly coming here for… that,” Ryan confessed.

“Why are you talking to a person in my position if you didn't come for my services?”

“Well… there’s this game show. You need a significant other to get on, and the grand prize is a million dollars. I don't have a real girlfriend, and I would be too embarrassed to lose any of my female friends and have them hold this against me, so I wanted to go with someone who I didn't really have to be afraid of having them judge me.”

The woman thought this over, a smile stretched across her face the whole time. She seemed to be looking him up and down, although Ryan wasn't sure why.

“Alright, sweetie. Fine. I’m in. Only because this is about the most interesting proposal I’ve ever received. That’s including literal proposals. And I’m dying to know how this ends.”

Ryan cheered silently, pumping his fists, having finally received the answer for which he had been seeking. She laughed, attracting the attention of passersby, but at the moment, Ryan was too happy to care. 

“I’m sorry, though. What was your name?” Ryan asked, realizing his rudeness.

“Cristal. Call me Cristal.”

* * *

“So, what exactly are we doing again?” Cristal inquired, sitting in the passenger seat of Ryan’s old run-down sedan, the state of which he had profusely apologized about. Cristal had given him a playful smirk and told him the wheels don't make the man, she’d poked her head through the window of far worse cars than his.

“Well, the game show is Test Your Love,” Ryan told her. “We’re headed to the audition hall. We just have to pretend to be madly in love, and tell them the relationship story we went over earlier.”

“Right. We met at a bar, you thought I was wickedly attractive,” she said, giving him a poke and watching as his cheeks flushed. “And bought me a drink. When I had finished it, I told you that I was surprised I wasn't unconscious already, and it was all uphill from there,” Cristal finished.

“Exactly. I think we’ve got this interview in the bag.”

Upon entering the seemingly endless line of potential candidates for the game show, Ryan got increasingly nervous, suddenly realizing how much actual talking he would have to do with the stranger beside whom he stood. 

“So… uh… where are you from?” Ryan asked, making conversation. Cristal took a step back, looking at him with intentionally apparent confusion.

“Don't ever ask a lady a question you don't care to know the answer to.”

“I shouldn't?” Ryan asked, bewildered.

“No! You don't really care where I’m from, do you? You’ve got something else in mind you’d rather ask, I can tell.”

“No, not really,” Ryan lied.

“‘Where am I from,’” Cristal mused. “What are you really asking?”

“I wanna know… where you came from? What happened… to lead you to get this as your profession…?” Ryan said slowly, eyeing her response to see if she was irritated.

“Now, there’s a conversation,” she said approvingly. “I was born in a poor household. I wouldn't even know my father’s name if I didn't beg my mama for it every day. When I grew up, I made it my mission to go and find him. Well, after pissing away my life’s savings and finding out you can't find something that doesn’t wanna be found, I needed some cash. Before I knew it, I was wrapped up in this man who was peddling me on the street corner like some carnival attraction. At least, that’s what I thought at first. But when I stopped thinking of this as a job, and started seeing it as a way to make amends for my mistakes so that I could be my own woman, I started making twice the money I did before. And now I’m using that money to find out who I really am, what I really want. Now I see this is the best thing to ever happen to me. I don't need to find my daddy, I don't need to be indebted to a pimp. I’m gonna be free of here in no time, just you wait.”

Ryan was silent. It was a far more intriguing story than the one he would have gotten from his first choice of question. He reflected on her story for a while, wondering what he needed to do in order to find himself, too. He decided that with the money from the game show, assuming they won, he would spend his half on travelling the world and self-discovery. Previously, he had just wanted to deposit more money into his college, returning for post-graduate classes to study a little more of whatever his major was.

* * *

“So, how did you two meet?” the admissions officer interrogated as they sat in the chairs provided to them. Ryan and Cristal ran over the story, driving home each point just as had been rehearsed. 

“Do you love each other?” 

“Absolutely. More than anything,” Ryan answered.

“Will you kiss each other right now?” they prompted. Ryan stammered a little, not having anticipated being put on the spot.

“Um…” Ryan began, searching in vain for an excuse.

“Of course!” Cristal said cheerfully. An arm appeared over Ryan’s shoulders, a finger pushed his face to the right and his lips collided with Cristal’s. They tasted like cigarettes and cherry lipstick. She began to trail kisses up his cheeks until she reached his ears.

“Don't worry,” she whispered. “I’m clean. And you aren't stopping me from getting my share of that million.” Cristal pulled away, turning back to the assessors, Ryan’s cheeks so red that the lipstick smooches were nigh camouflaged. “Sorry,” Cristal said to them. “He’s a little shy, but I think a lot of the audience can relate to the whole ‘nervous boyfriend’ thing. Might add some good variety to the cast.” The assessors nodded in understanding and agreement, showing some decent reasoning. Cristal turned and winked at Ryan, whose cheeks burned even hotter.

* * *

“Cristal! We got admitted onto the show!” Ryan screamed into the phone. A tinny scream erupted back at him, the duo absolutely thrilled to have made it beyond the first stage. The day went by slowly, each second a reminder of the event to come. The show changed every year, but a few things remained consistent. There were 9 rounds, and 10 groups of people. Each round the audience would vote off whichever couple they disliked and the winners would progress to the final round. If a couple decides to break up before the show ends, then they are immediately out of the game without need for being voted. The show’s recent spike in popularity had made it so the couples would be spending the nights in a fancy hotel, paid for by the network running the show. 

“Woaaahhh,” Cristal and Ryan chorused, looking around at the wonderful room they had been provided. 

“This is much fancier than any hotel I’ve ever been paid to stay in,” Cristal announced. Ryan frowned, having forgotten her profession for a time. Confused at his disappointment that she was a prostitute, Ryan turned on the TV and laid down in bed, claiming that it was necessary they get a good night’s sleep before tomorrow’s insanity. Cristal agreed, and hopped into the shower. Ryan attempted to force the thought of her showering out of his head, but it crept back in each time. Accepting fate, and admitting to himself he didn't really hate the image, Ryan drifted off.

After what felt like five minutes but had actually been nine hours, his alarm screamed at him. He scrambled to get ready, throwing on nicer clothes and adjusting his hair to be just right. While stationed in the mirror, tousling his shaggy mop of brown hair, Cristal stepped in and wordlessly began to fix it for him. With a lick of her hand and a slide of the palm, Ryan’s hair was more presentable than it had ever been before.

“You’re really good at that,” Ryan told her. She shrugged.

“Ready to go now, hot stuff?” she asked, indicating to his unbuttoned shirt. Ryan furrowed his brow, fixed the mistake and thanked her. “Wasn't that a lot easier?” Cristal said slyly. Before Ryan could figure out what she meant, he was being dragged out of the room.

* * *

Lights of all colors were flashing above them, tormenting their eyes. The audience was clapping and cheering, throats probably aflame from the sheer amount of yelling. The spotlight landed on the dashing host of Test Your Love, Chris Alesworth. His radiant smile soothed the audience into silence. Within moments, however, he was sure to rile them up once more. Ryan had been anxiously studying this show, its winners, and its losers. It was funny, however, that he hadn't thought to do so last night upon turning on the TV. That was odd, Ryan felt he typically would have prepared himself.

“Hello, ladies and gentleman, people of all ages, and welcome to…” Chris began.

“Test! Your! Love!!!” the audience finished. There was more clapping and cheering, but Chris calmed them once more.

“Let’s meet our contestants!” he shouted. The camera whipped around and sat stationary in front of each group for a short while, before swiveling and positioning itself in front of the next one. Each group was strapped to a lie detector test. Ryan was rather nervous, which he hoped wouldn't set it off. He felt rather comfortable around Cristal, however, which made him feel less anxious. After much vamping, Chris finally began the questions.

“John,” he said, turning to his first victim. “It says here that you love your sweet ol’ pup, Cooter. Well, the house is on fire. You can only save one. Your wife? Or your dog?”

“Pfft, these are easy,” Cristal whispered.

“Don’t get cocky, they get harder as he keeps going around. He’s trying to break us up, never forget that,” Ryan told her.

“Well, I’d save my wife, of course!” John responded. His wife gave him a peck on the cheek. Chris glanced down at the polygraph that was currently scribbling nonsense onto the page.

“He’s… telling the truth!” Chris shouted. The audience erupted into applause. The game went on like this for a while, with Chris taking the occasional commercial break to go presumably whiten his teeth or something, but it was more or less a consistent interrogation. The questions fell upon Ryan and Cristal a number of times.

“Ryan? What was your first impression of Cristal?” Chris asked.

“Well… at first, I was scared of her. She was intimidating, more experienced than me--” Ryan started.

“What do you mean by that? What experience?” Chris prompted.

“Well, y’know… life experience. And… relationship experience, I guess?” Chris nodded, allowing Ryan to continue. “But now, I’m not afraid. I think I just didn't understand her at first. I think I’m starting to get her.” Ryan said the last part slowly, taking a long look at his partner as he did so. The audience ‘awww’ed and cheered for Ryan and Cristal. They sure like doing that, Ryan bemused to himself. The questions were all rather similar to that. They were moderately embarrassing, somewhat revealing, and potentially schism-creating questions. Everything was normal until Chris announced that it was time for the final question of the night. He went to each group, and asked the same question each time.

“Who is your celebrity crush?” Chris would ask.

“I don't have one,” John attempted. With hardly a glance at the lie detector, Chris shouted out that it was a lie. The audience booed aggressively. “Fine, fine!” John said, caving. “Scarlett Johansson.” 

“What? Is that why you made us watch that stupid superhero movie last night?” his wife said, smacking him across the arm.

“No, no! Not at all! I really like those movies!” John shouted. Chris took a look over at the machine to which John was strapped.

“Lies!” Chris announced, a smile too broad for the kind of question that it was, and the reaction about to occur.

“Ugh!” John’s wife shook her head and stalked off stage, leaving a dumb founded John on the podium alone.

“If you made me lose my wife over some stupid game show, I swear to God…” John gave up before finishing his thought and followed his wife offstage.

“Theeeey’re outta here!” Chris shouted boisterously, far too happy for having just potentially forever divided that marriage. He finally rounded on Ryan. Fearing what lies could get him, Ryan told the truth.

“Anya Taylor Joy,” he said with faux pride. Cristal nudged him with an elbow.

“Good choice,” she said softly.

* * *

After much rigorous testing, and more and more couples being voted out each day(John and his wife were the first to get voted off), it was down to the final day of shooting for the show. 

“Is it just me? Or has this show had like 0 effect on us?” Ryan asked, slumping down into the bed across from Cristal.

“Don't get too cocky. They’re trying to split us up, remember?” Cristal chimed in.

“Really, where’d you hear that one?” Ryan asked sardonically. Cristal laughed, and Ryan smiled back. They lounged in their beds for a while, until the phone rang. Ryan picked up. They were calling for Cristal, there was a problem with getting her into the system for the hotel and she needed to confirm some information. Cristal begrudgingly descended the long winding staircase of their luxurious hotel to get to the lobby. As he waited for her to return, Ryan continued to lay like a potato in his bed, eyes glazed over as he watched the TV. Then, there was a knock at the door.

“That was fast,” Ryan said, swinging it open to see the face of not-Cristal. It was the woman about whom he’d spoken on the first night of shooting… Anya Taylor Joy.

“Can I come in for a second?” she asked, her hair and clothing styled similarly to Cristal’s. Ryan knew what this was. It was a set-up. There were hidden cameras, they were seeing how he would react to his celebrity crush being in his doorway. Now the problem lay in whether he cared more about 500 thousand dollars, or spending the night with his celebrity crush. There was unfortunately hardly a battle in his head, and lust won. Without even considering the obvious fact that she wasn't going to sleep with him, only seduce him and then leave once the camera crew stepped in to announce they had gotten good footage, Ryan let her into the room anyway in a fit of mad passion. The moment she was in the doorway, Ryan felt guilty, but he did not know why. It’s not like Cristal was his girlfriend.

* * *

Ryan did not admit to Cristal what had happened as she returned from the lobby. He felt true shame, and did not comprehend how that could be. Cristal found out the hard way. They broadcast the damning video of Ryan’s rejection before the whole audience. Naturally, they booed, and the opposing team did not fall prey, and won. Ryan and Cristal stood out under a canopy as harsh raindrops struck the concrete around them.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said with genuine remorse.

“Why?” Cristal asked. “For losing the one million? Or… something else?”

“Everything, I guess…” 

“Well. It’s okay. I think.”

“Why don't we try again?” Ryan asked. “We can change our appearances, go under fake names. And I’ll give you the whole million, we don't have to split it.”

“All that for just a little more time with me?” Cristal smirked.

“Well, no, I-- well, maybe?”

“How’s this,” Cristal proposed, her voice beginning to lower as the rain around them began to fall more softly before stopping. “Why don't we work out some of our problems first, like maybe admitting that we care.” Ryan wanted to sheepishly blush, but somehow he resisted. Ryan wanted to back out and return to his safe life. But, somehow, he knew he’d regret it.

“Let’s do it, Cristal. No more games. I like you, you’ve changed me, and I wanna make this work.”

“Kathleen,” she said.

“What?”

“Kathleen. Call me Kathleen.”