Feelling scolded without being scolded

Heather was looking through her cabinet to make sure Ms Williams hadn’t missed a better outfit. She had, like the night before, thrown all of her clothes out. Suddenly Alex stood in the room and said, “I didn’t expect our prim and proper lady to be the first to break a simple rule like ‘go to bed on time’ or ‘be on time for the morning meeting’. But here we are. Would you come with me to the office?”

“What do you mean, be on time for the meeting? It isn’t nine yet, is it?” Heather responded in a panic.

“It is five past nine. You were late, and depending on how many questions they have, you might have missed it entirely. Syl will want to have a conversation with you in her office.”

“What will be the consequences?” The woman used to broken contracts said in a more diplomatic tone than a worried one.

“Not my business, but from what I know from Syl, she likes her options. So it might not be universal. This is the punishment-type deal. Now come along before I use all the power I am allowed to use.” This threat didn’t seem hollow. Alex didn’t have the entertaining-the-guest smile from yesterday on her face. She was looking at Heather with pity as well as determination.

“Sure,” Heather agreed, leaving the sanitary building to go to the ranger outpost guided by Alex. “So how long have you known Syl?” She asked to make small talk in the hope of gaining something that she could use as leverage against the hostess.

“Syl is my aunt. She got this gig. I don’t know when, maybe even before I was born- but my parents wanted to help. Syl insists that I use that nickname or her full name during work for professionalism, which is good.”

“Wait, why did you help instead of your parents?”

“Plenty of people who work on the show end up a part of it. It is tradition, they say. With so many seasons I can’t keep them straight; I wouldn’t be surprised if there weren’t weird ones. My parents were not planning to have an open relationship, and Syl warned them. So I got volentold, and I had to start with dumb grunt work like Samson is doing now as well as some time as a chore runner, but now I am a department head, which took me about as long as anyone else who is one, from what I know. Maybe longer… I have no idea what is normal yet for Syl in terms of promotion schedule.” The elf mused.

“You weren’t given your position by your aunt?” The nepo baby asked the woman who had actually worked to where she was.

“Yeah, she has integrity,” Alex said with a proud smile. That comment hurt the heiress; however, it insulted her family's way of doing things. She and her brother had been given the positions they held from the start based on education, not merit, which was in stark contrast to the way Alex and Syl interacted. “I personally can’t imagine not having worked some of the jobs and then having to decide on the things I do. I know the struggles of some of the jobs and am more likely to listen instead of outright dismiss them.” More jabs at how Heather had interacted with others and the camp employee in orange seemed oblivious to what she was doing. “So how come a punctual, perfect lady such as yourself was still picking out her clothes for the day?”

“I… I am not used to being dressed this revealing. I wanted to look for something more modest.” A pregnant pause fell, but Alex knew to keep her mouth shut and let the woman finish. “I tried to look through all my clothes, and this was indeed one of the more modest outfits.” Another pause fell in the conversation.

“You know we do have clothes in the store, right? Let me check something.” Alex retrieved her phone and looked something up. “Full coverage package 10 BP for Heather, includes several dresses, catsuits, form-fitting turtlenecks, long form-fitting dresses and long skirts. You have plenty of long tight pants so we don’t need to provide more.”

“Can I buy it from you?” Hope sparkling in the heiress's eyes.

“No, ask Samson?” A dry, direct response came from the person who was effectively playing security at this moment.

“Who is that?” The oblivious, nepo baby asked the upright elf walking alongside her.

“The store clerk in the canteen?” Alex responded in surprise.

“That green monster?” An equally surprised voice came from Heather

“... Yes. So you know he dislikes being called names. He might pull a prank if you do.” The woman explained as if she heard someone plan something incredibly stupid.

“He already did. First he gave control of my chastity belt to Chris, and then he screwed me over with that transformation.” Heather begrudgingly admitted.

“He didn’t…” Alex looked at the transaction history. “Fair, he gave you a small curse, but he could have done worse. I know that for sure he held back. Keep provoking him, and he might do worse.”

“I need to be friendly to him?”

“No, just polite. Like you are with the rest of the contestants, Syl or me."

“To beasts, to monsters you can’t be serious?” The person who had never experienced hardship due to the protection of Daddy's money said.

“As a warning, the editing team might take offence and start making you look worse or inserting comments about you. Albert will try to keep them under control, but I can’t guarantee.” Subtitles appeared: ‘ALBERTO will try to keep control of his team but only as much as he deems reasonable.’

“Knowing him, he put something dumb in the subtitles already.” The subtitles continued to reply. ‘Knowing the team, they put something genius in the subtitles already. ;) We know you will watch this, Alex.’

“Can’t you keep the gremlins and other monsters under control? Or at least fire them if they misbehave?” The sheltered person who clearly has never seen any reality TV show said.

“No, if ratings are good or good enough according to the producer and showrunner, then why stop them? Manipulative editing has been a feature of this type of show since it started, and people who saw that decided it worked.”

“Have they shown anything manipulated yet?”

“Not my business. I am head facilities.” Followed by a cough which hides, “Sometimes co-host,” before continuing, “not editing, not writing, nothing to do with the narrative planning. I make sure you have access to the things you need, and when you buy something it gets delivered. So if you know you want something, tell me, and I can check if we have the stuff to get it. I was never a creative type; my speciality is logistics and a personel managment.”

The woman stared out at that last comment. What was her speciality? What had she contributed to her Daddy's company that another couldn’t? What did she have a passion for? Why did Alex tell her all this? The thoughts buzzed through her head, not letting go as they arrived at the office.

“Hello, nice of you to show up when called,” Syl said with a smile in the office. “Have a seat whilst we discuss the consequences as well as any questions that might have surfaced over the course of the night.” The entitled woman sat down, shoulders slumped, bent forward, still lost in thought. “Heather, you took a misstep; this isn’t an elimination-worthy one by a long shot. Don’t worry, the punishment won’t be drastic.” She didn’t look up. “I have three options: pay some BP, pay some VP, or do a quest with an extra punishment transformation as a failure condition, as William has. What do you prefer?” Heather didn’t respond. Syl got worried and tapped her on her shoulder. “Ms Jackson, are you okay?”

“No, I am not. I am in this mad house of a show. I need to be polite to monsters and weird creatures, and date the man who made my work the hardest it has ever been. I have to wear slutty outfits whenever I wear something. How could I be okay?” Heather responded, flustered.

“And this caused you to be late?” A dry tone present in every word spoken by Syl.

“I couldn’t find an outfit I was comfortable with.” The woman who was there to receive a punishment said, rolling up into a ball.

“Well, that I can’t change. From my understanding, we might be too lenient with our dress restrictions, at least compared to other seasons. If you get enough BP, you could see what the mysterious upgrade brings you. But which punishment do you prefer?” Some mild expression of frustration as to the entitlement present in the hostess's voice.

Heather was lost in thought and hadn’t heard the options. “What were my options again?”

“I will repeat myself: the three options are to pay some BP, pay some VP, or do a quest with an extra punishment transformation as a failure condition, as William has. What do you prefer?” The elf’s frustration heightened but was not escalating yet.

“What would be the quest?” A drop of hope was present in the voice.

“I won’t tell you until you pick it.” That small sadistic smile was on Syl’s face, one that Heather recognised from when she was about to fire someone.

“WHY?” Heather voiced her own frustration with the situation for the first time since she had been here.

“Drama, tension, to tease, to make it harder for you to decide, or maybe that is part of the punishment itself. You need to let go of your idea of you being in control of everything in your life. You will have a hard time here trying to control everything. You might become the target of more of the crew's pranks if you don’t.” The smile was still plastered on the hostess's face and didn’t widen or change- Heather knew she wanted to grin widely. The moment that prey realised the situation was golden.

“They can prank us whenever they want?” The shock of this realisation was clearly more than the nepo baby had expected from herself.

“Within reason, yes. If I think they might cross a line, I will correct them. Samson knows the line well enough to walk up to it and along it. Had he spent more or hindered you more, I would have punished him.”

A diplomatic answer from a boss protecting her underlings, Heather thought. “Can’t you give me a transformation as punishment instead?” She demanded, frustrated.

“I can if you want. Are you sure though? That is by definition a harder punishment than the quest.” That sadistic glee in the elf’s voice was barely hidden.

Heather looked at the floor and said in a voice that had given up. “The quest is milder than a new transformation… The other options aren’t options since I won’t be able to use my BP and I need VP to own my chastity belt… Fine, give me the rotten quest.”

“It is simple; the quest is ‘do a striptease for master’ to be completed by the end of the round. It isn’t too hard, but with how proud you are, it will definitely have some level of challenge. You will not receive bonus BP or rewards, unlike William, since this is a punishment.” The host had returned to the calm voice she usually spoke with.

“You hag, how dare you give me such a lewd, evil quest?” The nepo baby cried out as if she never had to do something she didn’t like.

“William’s were as lewd or lewder; the only one less lewd was the one Chris gave him. Still, you have to live with the choices you made. Do you have any questions up until now?” The calm response of Syl seemed to stop the tantrum. Maybe the toddler knew that if she encountered someone made of stronger stuff like this, it wouldn’t help.

“Yes, has the editing team already made me look bad?” Came out of the woman in a resigned voice, hoping the change of subject would help.

“Not more than you have yourself. Mainly observational comments instead of your name. They have been pretty controlled in not making anyone look more like the villain than those people have themselves. Maybe to the detriment of Chris and Becky, but they did show honestly what people were doing yesterday, who was putting in effort, who focused on themselves and who hardly interacted with others. William will be forced by the day's circumstances to interact with others you won’t. He is more likely to get some of himself shown, be it positive or negative. You don’t have said luxury, or maybe it would have been a hindrance at this point. Figure out what you want from today; do that with conviction; maybe you will enamour someone to yourself. But you could just as well drive someone to hate you. You won’t know where you fall in the eyes of our viewers until and if they send you fan mail or anyone else; not receiving any just means no one is interested in you.” Advice the hostess wasn’t planning on giving but still did in response to the question.

“Why are you acting as if apathy is worse than hatred?” A confused expression formed on Heather's face.

“In a show like this, it might be if they don’t know who you are, you are guaranteed middle of the pack, random transformations. This does not mean I recommend going for infamy; just be aware that our audience is comprised of all sorts. Some vindictive, mean people who get off on mean pranks; others who enjoy sappy stories. No offence to either category, just the truth about the nature of the show. Missy is someone people love to hate… I don’t know if you want to end up in the same camp as her or not. You could also aim for something more palatable and break out of your rich, sheltered lifestyle and try to embrace the camping experience; some might enjoy that. Look for a path through this in your own way.”

Heather believed this was a genuine response, not laced with the sadism of earlier or the fake politeness that surrounded Syl’s words most of the time or her subordinates for that matter. Philips was normally the only one who ever did that. With a whole lot more to think about than when she left her tent, Heather went back to the canteen hungry. She had missed breakfast entirely, most likely. This was not why she went there. It was the only place with decent seating.