Jessica leans forward. "Everyone does, Korgan. That's what makes this show work. Underneath all our differences, we're all just people looking for connection."
People.She includes me in that category, which is progress. Most humans still debate whether orcs qualify as people or particularly clever animals.
"The contestants arriving tonight represent different backgrounds, professions, personalities," Jonah adds. "Your job is to find common ground with each of them. Discover what you have in common beyond the obvious differences."
I think about the files they showed me earlier. Twenty-three human women, ages twenty-two to thirty-four. Teachers, doctors, artists, business owners. All volunteers for this elaborate mating ritual disguised as entertainment.
One file caught my attention: Trinity Lewis, baker from Maine. Her audition video was awkward, earnest, completely lacking the polished performance quality of the others. She talked about cinnamon rolls and seemed genuinely surprised that anyone would want to hear her opinions.
Authenticity,the producers called it.She's real.
As if the others aren't real, just better at hiding it.
"Any questions about tonight's format?" Jessica asks.
"I stand in a room while women parade past me?"
"More or less. You'll have brief conversations with each contestant, maybe thirty to forty seconds. First impressions are crucial."
Thirty seconds to determine compatibility with a potential mate. Humans have strange courtship rituals.
Jussel starts packing the fabric samples. "We'll need you in wardrobe at four for final fitting. Hair and makeup at five-thirty."
"Makeup."
"Just basic camera prep. Even the shine off your forehead."
Makeup.As if my face needs improvement for human consumption.
"The ceremony starts at eight," Jessica adds. "Ashley will escort you when it's time. Any other concerns?"
I consider mentioning that this entire setup feels like elaborate theater designed to make my people look foolish. That everyguidelineandsuggestionreinforces human superiority while pretending to celebrate difference. That I'm sacrificing personal dignity for political necessity and wondering if the trade is worth it.
Instead, I say, "No concerns."
"Excellent! Remember, Korgan, tonight is about first impressions. Show them who you really are."
Who I really am is a battle-scarred warrior whose diplomatic failures cost him his career and possibly his people's future. Who I'm pretending to be is a reformed savage looking for love on television.
The difference between those two things might determine whether this gamble pays off or destroys what little reputation I have left.
Back in my quarters, I examine the midnight blue jacket Jussel selected. The fabric is softer than anything I've worn, cut to emphasize broad shoulders while hiding the ritual scars across my chest. It transforms me into something more palatable for human consumption.
Sophisticated but approachable. Dangerous enough to be exciting, civilized enough to be trustworthy.
I try it on, checking the fit. The reflection shows someone who could be mistaken for human from a distance. Someone safe enough to let into your home, your heart, your bed.
Image rehabilitation.
Tonight, twenty-three human women will decide whether an orc can be worthy of their attention. Whether I can convince them that monsters make acceptable mates if properly domesticated.
The irony is that some of them might actually mean it.
The production assistant who escorts me to the set chatters nervously about lighting angles and camera positions. Her voice comes out with the high pitch humans get when they're trying to convince themselves they're not afraid.
"The entrance is really spectacular," she says, gesturing with hands that tremble slightly. "We've got atmospheric lighting, dramatic music, the whole cinematic experience. VeryLord of the RingsmeetsThe Bachelor."
Lord of the Rings.Where orcs are mindless servants of evil, cannon fodder for heroic humans. Perfect reference point for tonight's festivities.
