livingwriterin
Mel didn't sign up to die.
She signed up because a hot guy slapped her across the face with a folded paper tile and offered her money. Which, honestly? Normal Tuesday.
One bad decision, a missed rent payment, and a meltdown in a convenience store later-boom. She was here. Somewhere between a reality show, a cult, and a prison for people with taste.
She didn't know anyone's name. She had no idea what the game was. But she had a jumpsuit, her middle-school track trauma, and a growing suspicion that this was going to end badly.
Still, she looked great.
And if she was going to spiral into some life-or-death Hunger Games K-drama, she was going to do it in style.
Mel zipped up her suit halfway, fluffed her hair, and whispered to herself, "Let's win the weirdest breakup rebound ever."
Whatever this was, it wasn't what she expected.
And it was definitely not just a game.