If You Are The One

The new number 14

Number 13 turns to me while she dabs absent mindedly at her fake eyelashes in the glaring lights of her mirror.
"You're not the only new girl here today you know" she says.

I don't know what to say to her. I've followed her online for months, when I can get to the internet café in my town. I can't believe this is real, 13 is so close she keeps bumping my arm, I can't believe this is the beautiful, flawless woman whose pictures I would pore over at the end of the day on the dusty old computer in the internet café.

My throat turns dry thinking about those afternoons back home. Lenk leaning over me, brushing past me, bringing me sweets. He didn't know why I was interested in a city thing like If You Are The One. But he would ask me about what I was watching as if he were interested, and show me articles in the glossy magazines about the different girls.

"Look Lumi, number 22 got taken last week, by a guy from the northeast."

"Yeah I saw that one, he got all the way to the end with two lights left, and then when they revealed that his favourite was 22, she was so unimpressed, but he insisted on her and moved her with this beautiful speech, and she went with him."

"Do you think they'll get married?"

"Lenk! Of course they will. It's just a matter of when. And she was so famous by the time he came along, it will definitely be in the magazines. She'll be such a beautiful bride."

"I'll be sure to keep a copy to show you when it comes out." Lenk promised.

But he won't get the chance now. He's a million miles away back home, and I'm here in the glaring lights of my dressing table.

I realise I haven't responded to number 13 yet. She is inspecting her jawline for foundation lines.

"Sorry? Is somebody else new? Who?"

13 looks at me in the reflection of her mirror.

" Ms Huang"

"What number is she?" I ask, looking around the dressing room. There are 23 other girls in different states of readiness for the show. Some are choosing outfits from the selection laid out by the stylists, some are having their makeup applied. Most are in small groups, lounging around and talking.

"Oh she's not one of us." says 13. "She's our new moral compass, sent from the government."

"Oh?"

The PA in the corner crackles to life with the 5 minute call. The other girls slowly get up and put their heels on. I remain where I am, I've been ready for ages already. Before I can talk to 13 anymore, a producer kneels down next to my chair.

"I'm with the new 14 now," she says into her headset. "So, Lumi? All ready?"

"Yes I think so."

"Meng will be asking you for a little bit about yourself. Now we like to give our girls a lot of freedom on the show, so we won't script anything for you. Just remember it's in your best interests to be sincere. Be yourself and we'll get you a husband."

A husband. Is that what I really want? I thought at one point that I wanted Lenk, even though I knew he was promised to someone else. I thought that, like on If You Are The One, he would make a grand gesture at the last minute. He would insist on me, his favourite. I would be moved by his love for me, we'd be together. But the last minute came and went and Lenk got married to another girl. I stayed in my room for about a week afterwards, having what I suppose you would call a reality check. The reality in my town is, you marry who you're promised to and you live with it. You learn to love them.
While I was avoiding Lenk, I was also avoiding his general store and internet café, and I was missing If You Are The One. It got me thinking about the city, how things are so different there.

The next thing I know, the 24 girls are lined up in two straight lines. I'm ushered in behind 13. The girl next to me reaches out her hand and takes mine. I think she must be nervous too, but I look down the column and see everyone is holding hands.

"Just stay in line, smile and wave. You'll be fine 14." she says.

I can hear the matter of fact voice of the host, Meng, muffled through the doors.

"... and I'm your host, Meng Fei. Please welcome the 24 beautiful single girls."

The doors are pulled open and I can see the set over the heads of the girls in front of me. Music blares, lights flash everywhere, and the audience cheers in a wave of sound the washes over us. I'm temporarily dazzled by the glimpse of the set. Most of it seems to be covered in LED lights and screens.

We march through the doors and down the silver staircase and I have to follow. At the bottom of the stairs is a cameraman and all the girls wave into the camera before continuing on around to their podiums.
I stumble a little coming down the stairs but whoever is holding my hand holds me steady. I don't know what number she is. I'll have to thank her afterwards. We separate at the bottom of the stairs. Am I smiling? I don't know. There is a sea of faces in the studio audience, and I still have a long way to walk, parading in front of them, before I get to my podium.
On TV the girls always look like models on a catwalk when they make their entrance. I have to accelerate to a little trot to keep up.
It's a relief to reach my podium.