Opening Act

[Espi]

There were a lot of different ways people reacted to waking up on SOTF. People screamed, cried, threw things, attacked nearby structures and trees, often assumed the fetal position, or otherwise panicked. It was natural, really, to expect different reactions from different people in such a stressful situation; and just as natural to assume someone would react negatively when put into a life-threatening scenario on live television.

Riley Parker was not one for traditional reactions to SOTF, however. She was the type to make her popcorn during the whole, “screaming and crying” part of the show, and she knew that nobody liked seeing people crying. It was what happened after that part that people got interesting for the most part.

So when she regained her wits in an empty condominium, her first reaction was to sit up and look around. It was well-furnished, with a couch and chairs and whatever else defined a well-furnished area. Breathing deeply was important for her now; panicking was an easy and potentially fatal mistake.

Riley nodded thoughtfully, and muttered, in a scratchy voice. “Alright, alright. Nice place ‘ya got here.” She clambered up onto her knees, and crawled a few inches over to her bag, her lifeline even, if she wanted to be poetic. Feverishly digging through the bag netted her, of all things, what appeared to be cat ears and a black miniskirt with some kind of cat tail attached.

A shitty Halloween thing. Riley inhaled, exhaled. It was just her fanservice costume, not her weapon, those were a tradition in SOTF.

She tossed it aside and looked further. Her bandana was located, identified as bright yellow with what appeared to be a badger, and wrapped loosely around her arm.

Deeper in the bag, she found what appeared to be some kind of knife, sort of like a larger switchblade almost.

…That would do nicely, indeed. She picked it up and held it in her hands, almost delicately. Then she gripped it, trying to get familiar with holding it, using it even. She stood up, staring at the ceiling.

She knew what she had to do now. “Hey, everyone at home, listen up.” She said, voice quiet. She hefted her bag over her shoulder, and put on the cockiest, smarmiest grin she could physically muster. Her voice strengthened. “The name’s Riley Parker, you may know me as The Good Parker online. I like to think of myself as an SOTF aficionado, so I’ve seen almost every season of the show.”

She cut the band holding her ponytail out with the knife, letting her dark locks free. “So when I say I’m playing to win, that’s not me being dramatic. I mean it.” She flipped her hair, putting on an air of confidence. “I’m not about to let anything stop me, so you better watch out.”

She walked out the door, calling back with a grin, “Brandon’s not the only Parker who’s gonna steal the show.” And then she left, and as she did she knew what she was going to do.

((Riley Parker's story continues in Not Your Scheduled Programming))

Ready, world? Riley Parker’s not gonna let anyone stand in her way.