Chapter Text
Transcript from AOTV’s Fake Or Break
Season 5, Episode 1
[Scene opens with ARMIN ARLERT walking the perimeter of the outdoor pool]
Armin : It’s that time of year again, Eldia. The number one reality show in the country is back tonight for its fifth season. And this time, we’re kicking things up a notch. We’ve done families. Best friends. Even mortal enemies. But this season, it’s all about love. I’m Armin Arlert, and this is Fake or Break: Couples Edition.
[Preview plays of upcoming clips this season. Fights, kisses, and lots of tears.]
Mike (voiceover): I was born for this.
Yelena (voiceover): I’m here to cause chaos.
Hitch (voiceover): These idiots won’t know what hit them.
Niccolo (voiceover): I don’t trust anyone here except my girl.
Porco (voiceover): I’m winning the money, that’s the bottom line.
Jean (voiceover): You’re not getting rid of us that easily.
Erwin (voiceover): It’s your own fault you’re in this mess.
Ymir (voiceover): They’re playing in our faces.
Eren (voiceover): Don’t you quit on me!
Levi (voiceover): Well this just got interesting.
Moblit (voiceover): You got caught! Deal with it!
Historia (voiceover): This isn’t fair. You know it’s not fair.
Reiner (voiceover): Keep my name out of your mouth!
Annie (voiceover): What the fuck did I get myself into?
[ Fake or Break title card appears.]
[Scene returns to Armin by the pool.]
Armin : You asked and we delivered. This season, ten couples from all across Eldia will compete for the chance to win one million dollars. Well, almost ten couples.
One couple amongst the group isn’t a couple at all. Here, we like to call them The Fakes. Our genuine couples we’ll refer to as The Reals.
Here’s how it works. In order to win the one million dollar cash prize, The Reals have to figure out who The Fakes are and eliminate them from the game. If they succeed, all The Reals remaining will split the money. But if The Fakes survive every elimination and make it to the end, they’ll take home the money all for themselves.
This is a game of strategy. Figuring out who to trust, who not to trust, and how to avoid suspicion are all essential to making it to finale night. So that brings us to the million dollar question: Will The Reals be able to tell which couple isn’t who they say they are before it’s too late?
Will you?
♥
FOUR MONTHS EARLIER
Jean feels like a Fake already.
Even through tinted windows, the glamour of Karanes outshines anything he’s seen in Trost. Every building they pass on the main street is either a restaurant or a designer store. A velvet burgundy slim fit suit in one of the display windows catches his eye. The jacket alone probably costs more than his rent.
Perfect people with perfect hair and perfect clothes strut the street like all of this is normal. Like spending a Saturday afternoon visiting store after store, shopping bags swinging in tandem with their effortless strides, is how life's supposed to be. Like there’s no need to question the voices that Jean’s been hearing since his feet first touched Karanes ground. The ones that say, Come, throw your money away. You want to fit in, don’t you?
The pictures didn’t lie. This city truly is magical.
He should’ve brought a camera. Even a disposable one like the kind his mom Vera used all throughout his childhood. She deserves to see this more than he does.
But hey, if all works out, maybe she’ll have the chance to come in person.
It was hard leaving her. It’s even harder going no contact. As soon as Marco picked him up from the airport, Jean’s phone was confiscated. Marco assured that one of the producers will let Vera know that he arrived safely, but it’s not the same. Potentially being apart for six weeks with no way of checking in on each other will be more difficult than anything Jean will endure on the show.
He’s doing this for her. He needs to remember that. And Uncle Adrien will visit frequently during Jean’s absence to ensure Vera doesn’t overexert herself and throw her back out again.
Six weeks. It’ll pass quickly. And if Jean plays his cards right, it’ll all be worth it.
He keeps these thoughts to himself in the back of the SUV. He’s unsure if Marco can relate to his conflicting emotions, but judging by the gold Fritz watch that adorns Marco’s wrist, he seriously doubts it.
“We’ll be there in five minutes,” Marco says from across the aisle. “You know the rules. No talking to anyone you don’t know.”
Jean nods. “Got it.”
To maintain confidentiality during the casting process, contestants are not allowed to interact with one another until the show officially starts. For now, Jean’s only allowed to speak to the producers he interviewed with. Marco was there for two of them. Jean thinks that may have played a part in why he got cast. They clicked really well, not a moment of silence in the three total hours of interviewing. Under different circumstances, they may have become friends. But here, they’re cast member and producer. For as long as he’s on the show, Jean can’t go anywhere without Marco’s approval.
He absorbs the brilliant Karanes atmosphere from the car window for the little time he has left. He may have the chance to browse the city during off days, though likely not often. This isn’t a vacation. Jean’s here to do a job, that job being to make some damn good television.
The SUV turns onto a quieter side street. Marco shoves his own phone back into his pocket, which tells Jean they must be getting close. His stomach tightens, which is unusual. He never once displayed an ounce of nerves about coming on this show. Not during his audition tape, not during his interviews, not even during the psych evaluation. But there’s a difference between the idea of being cast and it actually coming to fruition.
The last season of Fake or Break was watched by over thirty million people. Thirty million. Four months from now, thirty million people will know who Jean Kirstein is. They’ll know his face. His voice. They’ll have strong opinions about him, positive and negative, based on a heavily edited version of himself. Producers may shape him into a good guy, a villain, a strategic mastermind, or they may give him next to no screen time at all. It all depends on what narrative they want to tell. No matter what, it won’t be the truth.
But that does little to ease the self doubt. Reality TV may be as fake as it gets, but this is real for Jean. His life will change immensely after this is over. All he can hope is that it’s for the better.
The sign comes into view. Maria Sina Luxury Resort. Jean’s new home for the next six weeks. He recognizes it from past Fake or Break episodes. The producers rent out the entire resort for filming.
Jean doesn’t want to know how much that costs. This place is more immaculate in person. It’s scary to think a fancy resort with a marble fountain on the front lawn is the appropriate place for a bunch of idiotic twenty-somethings to party it up in their downtime.
Because, let’s be real, that’s usually who gets cast on these types of shows. Jean’s not naive to believe he’s an exception. He takes pride in his intelligence, but he’s no stranger to getting drunk and dumb and making out with strangers. He did promise Vera he won't do anything to embarrass her. Time will tell if he keeps his promise.
For a hotel completely rented out, the parking lot is loaded. Cars and crewmen and chaos everywhere. Jean exits the car and enters a new world entirely, one that involves his bags being seized away by a group of burly men before he can blink. Talk about special treatment.
He remembers Marco’s rule and keeps his mouth closed. Not like he’s in any position to speak. This will take time to get used to, certainly longer than thirty seconds.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Marco asks.
Jean gives a slight nod, his astonishment not allowing him to do more than that.
Marco cuts through the parking lot, so Jean follows. He keeps his eyes forward. If he stops to observe the sights around him, he’ll lose Marco to the crowd. Jean’s legs are longer, but Marco’s pace is faster. Must be a byproduct of working in Karanes.
Marco slows his strides so Jean can keep up. “Those guys will take your bags to your room shortly,” he says. “They just need to inspect them first for any contrabands.”
Jean winces. In this case, contrabands refer less to weapons and drugs and more to items like laptops and books and music. Contestants aren’t allowed to bring that sort of stuff with them. Marco told him it’s to both keep them disconnected from the outside world as well as ensure there’s no cheating involved. Jean thinks it has more to do with driving everyone to insanity. More insanity, more drama, more ratings.
“In the meantime,” Marco says, “I’ll show you around the hotel so you know where everything is.”
They push through the front doors and Jean’s eyes go wide.
The lobby calls him poor with the chime of the crystal chandelier that hangs from the high ceiling. Two spiral staircases sit on either side of the room, leading to an open second floor full of gift shops and restaurants. Windows stretch to the ceiling, stacked next to one another so there’s no walls or wallpaper, only gorgeous views of the courtyard and pool. A bronze statue of Maria Sina looms near the couches and chairs off to the side. Or is it gold? Jean won’t be surprised if it is.
People are everywhere, either talking to each other or into headsets. Jean feels more of an outsider by the second. These people are likely all crew members, but they belong. It’s in the way they carry themselves, that air of importance and perseverance. They take their jobs seriously, even when the end product is a popcorn reality show. They can trick Jean into buying bottled oxygen.
There’s no one working at the front desk, but Marco skips past it in a way that implies he would’ve ignored them if there had been. He makes a dismissive comment about this being the lobby. The magic must wear off after working here five seasons in a row. Fake or Break films two a year, so that’s twelve out of fifty-two weeks that Marco calls this place home.
More importantly, the determination in his walk suggests there’s even more compelling parts of the hotel he wants to take Jean to.
Instead of taking the stairs, Marco leads Jean to the far end of the lobby. Two doors stand on opposite sides of the lone wall. One leads to the cafeteria (“This is where you’ll have all your meals,” Marco says. “Unless you choose to order room service after hours. But all the upstairs restaurants are closed during filming.”), the other to the bar. The rooms are nearly identical in size. The bar has a dance floor, one Jean recognizes from TV. He learned during the interview process that the crew will invite locals (who sign NDAs, of course) sometimes to fill the scene so it appears like the contestants are partying at a real club. Contrived, but that’s show business.
The rest of Marco’s mini tour involves the indoor and outdoor pools, the gym, and the sauna. Of course, Jean will need Marco’s permission to use any of these outside of filming, but that’s a problem for another day.
“Last stop for now.” He pauses outside a conference room. “This is where you’ll film your confessionals.”
Jean figured as much. The door’s open, so the set up is on full display. The large table that’s usually found in a conference room has been removed. In its place is a red armchair set up in front of a camera and a fuck ton of lights. It’s the same way Jean’s final round of interviews was set up. That’s when he learned the importance of never wearing grey when filming a confessional. That’s how he ended up sweating under the lights’ intense heat and showing off his pit stains to the showrunner and Marco and anyone that may have seen that tape.
A petite redhead with a clipboard is also in the conference room. Another producer. She’s showing off the confessional setup to a dark haired man wearing a polo shirt. Jean assumes this has to be another cast member, which has his blood pumping.
His first glimpse at the competition. Or maybe this is his partner. None of the producers have given him any details about the other Fake. Hell, Jean doesn’t even know what the theme for this season is yet. Everything has been kept very hush hush.
But if this is the guy he’ll be teamed up with, Jean wouldn’t hate it. Polo Shirt looks like he’s in good shape, albeit his small stature. That can come in handy during physical competitions. For someone like Jean who is tall and athletic, being paired with someone short and agile can balance out his weaknesses.
Still, Polo Shirt doesn’t exactly scream made for television. While the producer drips with enthusiasm as she goes over the confessional process, Polo Shirt doesn’t even crack a smile. He simply watches with unimpressed eyes. Or perhaps just tired. It’s possible he’s jet-lagged if he traveled from somewhere far. Jean’s flight from Trost was only two hours and he still feels exhausted.
Marco starts to relay those same confessional details to Jean, but stops once the producer and Polo Shirt make their way out. As they pass, Marco and the producer exchange warm smiles. Jean knows he can’t talk to anyone else, especially his potential teammate, but there’s no harm to smile too. He offers Polo Shirt a small one along with a nod.
If it’s a smile he expects in return, he doesn’t get one. Polo Shirt doesn’t even look at him. He just brushes past Jean and keeps it moving. Either the producer gave him harsher rules than Marco gave Jean, or this guy is just not very friendly. Jean would bet his life savings it's the latter.
Jean can’t decide if he’d rather have him as a teammate or his competition. Though he only comes up to Jean’s shoulder, Polo Shirt is strangely intimidating.
Oh well. They can’t all get along, otherwise there’ll be no entertainment. Fake or Break has a fun premise, but it’s the drama that scores the high ratings. Jean expects to get into some drama himself (it’s inevitable under these circumstances), but he’ll do his best to keep the peace with Polo Shirt.
If he’s lucky, the guy will be on another team and get booted first. His chilling demeanor won’t make him very popular. Usually it’s the unlikable people that get voted out early anyway.
Marco resumes his explanation of confessionals, which is just a few short sentences. When he’s finished, he says, “I think that’s everything. Any questions?”
Jean thinks of a dozen off the bat, but doesn’t know where to start. So, he chooses not to.
“I don’t think so.”
Marco beams, the freckles on his cheeks tickling with happiness. “Great. Your stuff should’ve made it to your room by now. Let’s get you settled in.”
“Nice,” Jean says. He doubts he’ll be able to, but it would be nice to crash onto a comfy queen size bed and take a moment to breathe. The day’s just started and he’s feeling overstimulated.
“You’re on the fifth floor,” Marco tells him as they head for the elevators. Both are currently in use. He drops his voice. “Your partner will be too, but you’ll be in separate rooms.”
Jean looks around and confirms no potential competitors are around. Best not to blow the secret before the show even starts. “Is it a guy or a girl?”
Marco gives an apologetic smile. “I actually don’t know. I’m only given information about the contestants I’ll be responsible for. Your partner has a different producer. Hannes, I believe.”
Damn it. Jean doesn’t want to come across as ungrateful, but he’ll be a lot more at ease once he learns about this mysterious person he’ll be paired with. It’s hard to strategize when half of the equation is blank.
The left elevator dings, then the doors open. Three people step out. Two Jean doesn’t recognize, one he absolutely does.
“Ah, you’re here!”
He steps forward and squeezes Marco’s shoulders, then turns to Jean. He takes Jean’s hand into both of his and shakes emphatically. A dazzling smile appears, deepening the wrinkles on his aging face.
“Good to see you, Jean.”
Jean smiles back. “Absolutely, Pixis. Thank you so much for the opportunity.”
It’s probably unprofessional to gush to the showrunner, but Jean can’t think of anything smoother to offer other than his gratitude. Dot Pixis is the genius behind Fake or Break. He was involved in the last round of interviews, the round that solidified Jean’s position on the show.
“You were an easy yes,” Pixis says. “Everyone was on board.” He chuckles. “Not that it matters. I have final say anyway.”
The two behind him join in the laughter, as does Marco. It’s that surface level type of laughter that Jean assumes is natural in Karanes, but obscure anywhere less luxurious. Fake pleasantries.
But that’s fine. Pixis was just as eccentric during the interview, such as insisting he be referred to by last name only. It has more “pizzazz” according to him. Jean embraced it wholeheartedly. He matched Pixis’s quips with a few of his own, which likely won him points.
Jean’s smile remains prominent. “Of course.”
“I was about to show him his room,” Marco says.
Pixis opens his arms like he’s giving a presentation. “Well, this is great! Jean’s partner is already here getting settled. We should be able to let them link up soon.”
Jean perks up. “Really?”
Pixis nods. “He’s very excited to meet you.” He leans closer and lowers his voice. “Said he hopes you’re as out for blood as he is.”
Sadistic. Jean likes him already.
“I just have to make a call to the network to discuss production updates. When I’m done I can fetch him and Hannes and introduce the two of you.”
“That’d be great.”
Jean turns to Marco, a desire for approval behind his gaze. Pixis obviously has higher authority than Marco, but Jean wants a good relationship with his producer if they’re going to be spending so much time together. Luckily, Marco is all smiles.
“That sounds perfect,” he says. “Jean and I should get going then so he at least has some time getting acquainted in his room.”
“Yes, of course,” Pixis replies. “I’m already late as is.”
He rushes away without saying goodbye, the two other employees trailing behind. Marco presses the button for the elevators since the left one has ascended to the fourth floor.
“At least now we know it’s a guy you’re paired up with.”
“Yeah. If he’s as cutthroat as Pixis says, I think we’ll get along great.”
Marco grins. “That’s what I like to hear.”
The elevator returns, then they’re on their way to floor five, the highest floor apart from the penthouse. Abstract art covers the hallway walls, the kind of pieces that are only expensive because someone of importance declared them so. There’s a healthy space between each door. That implies that the rooms are a decent size. Jean has no preference. Whatever his room here looks like, it’s bound to be bigger and nicer than the one back home.
Marco stops in front of the door marked 5060. He waits a second, likely for dramatic effect, then pulls a key card from his pocket. The sensor turns green when he presses the card to it, and then they’re in.
It’s plain compared to the rest of the hotel. Then again, the purpose of this room is for sleeping. It makes sense they wouldn’t waste their money fancying it up when most visitors won’t spend much time here anyway. But it has a bed, bathroom, desk, and an incredible window view, which is all Jean can really ask for.
He tests out the bed, earning a chuckle from Marco. The mattress is firm beneath the thick comforter. Much better quality than his own bed, which happens to be Vera’s old one. She now sleeps on a Casper mattress Jean saved up for to ease her back problems.
“Welcome to paradise,” Marco teases.
Jean snorts. “Yeah right. I know how this goes. You guys are gonna put me through hell.”
“No point in rewarding someone a million dollars if they don’t earn it. This isn’t a charity.”
“So you acknowledge that money is mine.”
“You seemed very confident about that during your interviews. I’m just responding accordingly.”
No arguing there. It’s not about confidence, though. Jean is winning this show because he has to. Failing isn’t an option. This is a life changing amount of money and he’s got the best reason to win it. Most people come to Fake or Break for the fame and Instagram followers. While it’s a nice perk, Jean’s playing for something far more important.
And now that he has confirmation that his partner is just as hungry for the win, Jean has no doubt that victory is his.
Not even ten minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. Jean and Marco exchange glances, both seemingly on the same page. It has to be Pixis with Jean’s partner.
His stomach tightens again. He’s not sure if it’s for good or bad reasons. He’s excited, yes, but it’s possible this guy will size him up and be unimpressed like Polo Shirt from earlier. It’s like he’s on a blind date, something he swore he’d never do.
Five hundred thousand dollars. If Jean wants that money, this guy is the key to getting it.
So, he takes a breath while Marco answers the door, and hopes for the best.
“Marco,” Pixis says from the doorway. Jean can’t see him, but his enthusiasm is palpable.
There’s a second voice, then a third. They’re not as boisterous as Pixis, so it’s hard to discern anything other than mumbles. But Marco’s body language is receptive, so at least Jean’s partner isn’t setting off immediate red flags.
Marco leads them inside. Pixis cuts in front of the crowd and zeroes in on Jean.
“There he is,” he gushes. “Jean, allow me to formally introduce you.”
There’s a cheekiness to his tone that seems off, even by Pixis’s standards, but Jean brushes it aside. It’s probably his own nerves reading into things.
A blond man, appearing to be in his forties, gives a hearty wave. “Hi. I’m Hannes. I’m one of the producers.”
Jean nods, but the verbal greeting is lost in his throat. Because as he gets his first look at the person to Hannes’s right, Jean's partner, he freezes.
No.
This has to be a joke.
There’s no way, not in a million billion years, not out of the hundreds of thousands of people that applied for this season of this reality show that Jean would be paired with him.
But of course he is. This is reality TV. Jean knew about the producer manipulation and editing that goes into making the magic happen. He knew, and he accepted it. For the money, he’d put up with anything. He thought he was prepared for it. He was prepared for it. Literally anything else he’d be okay with.
Except this.
Their gazes lock. His partner looks just as bewildered. Also angry. Mostly angry.
Some things never change.
Those green eyes are as dastardly as ever. A color that symbolizes the beauties of the natural earth, yet all Jean feels when he sees it is impending destruction.
A sound rattles his ears, though he’s the only one who hears it. It comes from deep in his heart, the part of his body that should be most safe. And it was, until this plague entered his room.
It’s Jean's drive. His strength. His hope that he’ll win this money for Vera and save his family from their financial hardships shattering in an instance.
All because of the person in front of him. The one person on this planet he never wanted to cross paths with again.
“Eren.”