“Where is he?” Derek all but barks at his team. You’ve been inside of a conference room for nearly 15 minutes, waiting on somebody named Lyon. This Lyon person has apparently been watching over every single profile that had ever come into the website and was the person to find your profile. 

“Lyon’s really chill. A real professional,” a girl told you when you initially sat down. 

Ryr and Ross have long since tuned out, messing around on their phones to pass the time. Everybody gathered in this room is apart of Odessa Dates’ senior development staff, you learned. 

“I don’t know. He probably got the times or dates confused.” The answer comes from a male named Bryce, who is apparently his deskmate. “Or, you know, having his millionth panic attack since the news dropped.”

Derek pinches at the bridge of his nose, clearly unsatisfied with that answer, but it makes him sit down in his chair. “Look, we wait five more minutes and if he doesn’t come by then, we’re starting without him.”

On minute four, a figure races into the conference room, his dark brown hair completely messy and all over the place. His green eyes dart across the room before he sheepishly gives a smile to Derek who definitely does not return it.

“M-Mr. Briggs, wow, I’ve got a pretty funny story about why I’m so late. It involves-”

“Save it, Mr. Powers, our guest is here,” Derek says, motioning over to you at the far end of the conference table.

Lyon’s eyes widen as he takes in your appearance. “Y-you...you’re $!{player_first_name}! Wow, my computer screen doesn’t do you justice. You’re gorgeous!” 
*fake_choice
    #“E-excuse me?” I stutter, surprised at how brazen Lyon was being.
        *set aloof +1
    #“Thanks, I know,” I say, giving Lyon a wink.
        *set bold %+5
        *set flirty +1
    #“This is the professional over my dating profile?” I ask, crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair.
        *set snarky %+5
        *set bold %+5
        *set rude +1
    #“I see you have no filter…” I say, though I can’t help but chuckle a bit afterwards.
        *set snarky %+5
        *set sarcastic +1
    #“Hm, you’re not too bad looking yourself,” I say, mentally tucking away his facial features.
        *set bold %+5
        *set flirty +1
    #“Um...thanks,” I say, not meeting his eyes.
        *set bold %-5
        *set shy +1

Lyon’s eyes get even wider, which you didn’t know was humanly possible, and his face erupts bright red. “Oh boy, I totally said that out loud-”

“Thank you, Mr. Powers, please be seated. We can begin this...meeting, or debriefing of sorts, now that you’ve arrived,” Derek says, standing up from his seat and standing by the back wall. After he presses a button on the wall, a television reveals itself. 

“As I’m sure you’re already aware of, $!{player_first_name}, you are the most compatible person for $!{royal_title} $!{royal_first_name}. The Odessa Dates’ algorithm determined the two of you are the best fit for one another, at 99 percent.” Derek explains, tapping on the screen to advance it.

“We’ve been pouring over our code and we’ve even recreated your account, but we still can’t figure out why the number is so high. We do know, at least, why you aren’t a 100 percent match. Lyon?”

The male stands up, running his fingers through his hair. “Right. Yes. So…” He goes to stand on the other side of Derek and taps on the screen, revealing the details.

“It really boils down to choice. This is a competition, after all. The $!{royal_title} might fall for somebody else, you might fall for somebody else, you might die…really any reason,” Lyon says, a bit too cheerily for your liking.

“Don’t worry, $!{player_first_name}. The odds of you dying in the competition are about 159,000 to 1. We’ve calculated that a hundred times,” a developer assures from across the table. 

“Good to know,” You say hesitantly.
    
*page_break

Ryr sighs, standing up from his seat. “This is all nice and all, but we kind of need to keep going. Is there anything else you need to tell us, or can we hit the road?”

Derek sighs and taps forward a few screens to a couple of headshots. “Really, the main reason we wanted you guys to come in was to tell you about how we’ll be involved going forward. The rest of the contestants got this over an email but you’re a little too high profile for that,” he says.

“Lyon will oversee your social standing during the competition. Make no mistake, he is not your publicist or anything close. He’ll be keeping track of who is talking about you, what everybody is saying about you and making sure everything is judged fairly. Don’t come to him because you need help getting people to talk about you because you’ll be out of luck.”

You glance over at Lyon who blushes lightly when you catch his gaze. 

“Lyon and a few other members will be overseeing profiles who are all from a certain region and I will be overseeing everybody. Of course, if you have questions, feel free to contact any anybody on this team,” Derek finishes. “Happy, Ryr?”
    
Ryr nods and Derek turns off the screen, which prompts everybody to get up from the table. You do so as well, smoothing out your clothing and prepare yourself to leave. What you don’t expect is for everybody to start surrounding you.

“What? Derek, you can’t be serious!” Ryr exclaims. “I told you we wouldn’t have time for questions.”

The webmaster shrugs and heads towards the door. “They have a three question max. You’ll be fine. You’re not even answering them anyway!”

With that, you spend the next few minutes answering all sorts of questions about your hometown, how you like Dia, if you have siblings and more. Everybody seemed excited to finally meet you, especially Lyon, who waits until he’s the last one in the room to approach you.
*page_break
*goto_scene chp2_lyontalks