Viola and the redhead—who introduced herself as Bailey, just Bailey—joined her at the window. The city below was pristine. Gleaming towers, lush vertical gardens, and streets filled with silent, electric vehicles. On the side of the opposite building, a massive digital billboard cycled through three images: their faces.
“Alright,” Viola said, picking up her card and a nearby bottle of rare truffle oil. “If they want a lifestyle spectacle, let’s give them a meal they’ll never forget. Bailey, you’ve got the lock. Apolonia, don’t make my schedule too hellish.”
The Third Sunrise
Then, the scream.
APOLONIA LAPIEDRA: THE ARCHITECT. #WakeUpN: THE EXPERIENCE.
Below their faces, in smaller text: Your lifestyle. Their entertainment. One rule: Don't check out.
The three women looked at each other. The city hummed below, indifferent. The camera lenses hidden in the smoke detectors, the paintings, the potted fiddle-leaf figs, all blinked a silent, red . -WakeUpNFuck- Viola Bailey- Apolonia Lapiedra -...
Viola bolted upright, clutching the sheet to her chest. Across the sprawling penthouse suite, on a matching sectional sofa, a woman with fiery hair and a constellation of freckles was staring at her own wrist.
Viola’s card read: Choose your signature recipe. The audience will rate it. The loser cleans the infinity pool. By hand.
Apolonia raised an eyebrow. “No promises. Entertainment first.” Viola and the redhead—who introduced herself as Bailey,
And in that penthouse, suspended above an unknown city, three strangers stopped being contestants and started being collaborators. The first episode of had just begun—and the world was already refreshing its feed.
“I’m a food blogger,” Viola said, her voice tight. “I review ramen joints. Not… this.”
Before she could answer, a third voice, dry as a martini and laced with a Spanish accent, cut through the morning haze. “Because, chicas, we’re not here by accident.” On the side of the opposite building, a