Matt Jones – A Joke Contestant on Island Amour, a Reality TV Show (DimUse92; Branch on indefinite hiatus)

Note: This mostly linear story will focus on an average guy being thrown in an unlikely situation of a reality TV show trying his best to deal with it. It will focus on how he copes with multiple relationships with women completely out of his league on national television, how he grows, and how he eventually comes out of the experience with the help of the Affection Multiplier App. There won't be any , the first sex scene will take a while to get to, and there will probably some typos. I do make use of pictures but all of them are SFW and as unobtrusive as I can make them.

Island Amour was a hit reality dating TV show in the 2010s that captivated national audiences. The show puts muscle-clad Adonises and burgeoning Instagram models on an Island secluded from the rest of the world and widdle them down to a winning couple according to audience voting. Contestants on the show are secluded from the rest of the world in an Island Paradise Resort, where they engage in risque Island activities designed to raise sexual stakes and romantic compatibility. Islanders who remain uncoupled in the first round or are deemed by the audience through voting as incompatible or unpopular, face risk of being eliminated and losing their chance at true love. The appeal of the show stems from the drama of recoupling and the choices of the Islanders, who they dump and who they recouple with.

However, the past few seasons of Island Amour saw a sharp downturn of ratings. Audiences groaned that most of the Islanders selected were either plants (recruited actors planted to stir drama and create tension) by the producers or Instagram influencers who only appeared on the show for cynical reasons, such as obtaining more followers or five-minute stardom rather than an earnest attempt to find true love. The show also became harder for new and old audience members to endear themselves to contestants.

In an attempt to win over audiences and spark headlines, the show’s producers decide to throw the dice and cast an average nobody.

That’s where you came in. As a dare and the results of a lost bet, your friends managed to get you to fill out an application form and an audition tape for the show. You don’t consider yourself bad looking, but you are nowhere near as attractive as the Chads and muscle-bound hunks that appear on the show. You get on with it and mail it in as a joke, not expecting to be heard from ever again.

Fast forward to today, when you are standing in front of the gauging eyes of two producers, one older male, and one older female, who are examining you head to toe.

“Hmm….” The older male producer says nodding towards his female counterpart. “He’s almost perfect for it.”

“He’s not repulsive enough to turn away our female audience but not good looking enough to make the male audience hate him,“ A pudgy blonde hair lady in her 50s says next to him and nods.

You find it odd they can speak so openly about your mediocre physical appearance.

“Is this a joke?” You ask them plainly.

“No, Mr. Jones. We are very interested in having you on the next season of Island Amour. We are approaching the next season a bit differently…” The male producer says.

“Like you are going to have people like me?” You asked.

“Yes… We want to be able to connect to a new audience,” The female producer replied.

Why did you even come here, you think. Curiosity? You wanted your ego stroked, and you wanted them to tell you you weren’t as ordinary as you thought? They just came out and said you are, though.

“I’m going to have to pass. I’ll be humiliated. There’s no way I could compete with any of the guys you normally put on,” You say.

“We won’t patronize you, Mr. Jones. Though it would be fantastic if we could get a storyline where beauty and the geek fall in love. That storyline would be great for ratings, but... you are most likely correct,” The female producer said.

You slumped at that. Did they have to be so honest?

“But-“ The female producer said, interrupting you before you got up and leave, “Think of as a great all-expense paid vacation. You’ll be traveling to Spain and getting some great warm weather and air. Who cares if you don’t find love or will win the grand prize. And to sweeten the deal if you sign this contract, you will get a ten thousand dollar signing bonus just so you don’t feel pressured to compete with the other men.”

“Ten thousand dollars?” You gasped. That money wasn’t incredible, but it was still more than you ever saved up from your lousy dead-end job.

“Yes, and that’s just the signing bonus. Every day you stay on the Island, you will make a thousand dollars. So even if you only last for a week, you’ll still be getting seventeen thousand dollars at the end of it for your trouble.” The male producer added.

That’s 17,000 dollars. That could really help you. You weigh the risk of being humiliated on national TV. What was the price of your dignity? You decided. It was 17,000 dollars.

After signing the contracts and shaking hands with the producers, you head back home and immediately start working out and getting ready to go on the Island. You shake your head as you futility try to turn your body overnight into something respectable.

What were you thinking? You were going to need a miracle to not embarrass yourself on national television.