The town of Wonderton unfolded before the contestants like a setting plucked from a storybook—a whimsical haven that blended European-inspired architecture with a touch of Victorian fantasy and futuristic flair. 

Floating carriages glided gracefully along cobblestone streets, their wheels spinning without ever touching the ground. Tea houses in funny shapes like a heeled boot, a yellow hen or a smiling sunflower spilled warm golden light onto the paths, their chimneys puffing gentle clouds of lavender-scented smoke. Quaint shopfronts adorned by holographic signs advertised everything one might need like groceries and clothing to frivolous trinkets and curios. Clockwork cats jumped from rooftop to rooftop, their metallic fur catching the sunlight.

Finally, at the heart appeared a sprawling square, filled with a carousel of mechanical horses and a towering fountain that seemed to defy gravity, its water cascading upward in elegant spirals. And it was here where the two hundred contestants would gather.

Following the directions of the NPC concierges, they made their way to the town's square to wait for the next segment. Some clustered in small groups, their chatter and laughter overlapping in a merry cacophony. Others stood alone, gazing at the mechanical marvels of Wonderton with wide eyes that reflected its golden clock towers and starlit streets.

NPC townsfolk, dressed in an eclectic mix of Regency-style outfits and Victorian fashions, glided among the newcomers, offering maps of the district with cheerful bows. “Welcome to Wonderton, sirs,” they said, their melodic voices adding to the town's charm. “Please take a map to assist you in exploring this enchanting part of your journey.”

As the contestants were allowed to wander freely and familiarize themselves to their future surroundings for the next three months, Mi Sha inevitably drew subtle but palpable attention.

In truth, he wasn't the only one. Even among the crème de la crème chosen from 20,000+ applicants, there were always a few who stood out even among the most beautiful.

With a simple sweep of his eyes, Mi Sha spotted three he easily matched to the pictures and names circled on the contestant roster shown by the production team leader. With 200 contestants, it was inevitable that certain ones would be initially singled out to give more screen time, maybe even a “script” that would help them stand out to the audience. These “chosen ones” were usually whom the production team saw as having the most potential on the outset. 

But whether they could maintain such a good hand of cards dealt to them was something only time would tell. There was never a lack of dark horses appearing in shows like these after all.

The nearest one, a particularly tall youth with sharp cheekbones and a silky mane of blue-black curls, stole furtive glances at Mi Sha from across the fountain. Large heterochromatic eyes peered curiously at him under thick curling lashes that wouldn't have looked out of place in a mascara commercial, only his were natural. 

But when Mi Sha stared unabashedly back, Aimé Blanchet's flawless golden ratio features blushed a light pink. One blue eye, and the other brown darted away and then back like a skittish doe peering around to see if the predator had left. Only to flush further as Mi Sha showed no signs of looking away. This easy proneness to fluster caused Mi Sha to raise an eyebrow in amusement.

He was tempted to hold a staring match with the boy just to see what he would do. But mercifully, he decided to let the other off after watching those doe eyes do their back and forth dance twice more. Aimé clearly looked like he wanted to either melt into a puddle or dart away. 

A slight smile tugged at Mi Sha’s lips as he finally glanced away. Aimé’s innocence was endearing. The kind of person Mi Sha so rarely encountered that he also couldn't help giving a second glance. (Though if a malicious part of him wondered just how fragile this greenhouse flower was, Mi Sha easily ignored it.)

A few feet away, Renato Leonetti leaned casually against a nearby lamppost, his bright smile never once dimming as he studied Mi Sha with interest—and incidentally catching the “staring match” going on just now. 

He was radiant even under the golden light, his large almond shaped eyes ringed by spiky golden lashes that appeared translucent in the light and a baby face that was generous with seraphic smiles. All of this added up to a youthful, honey sweet vibe. And just like his appearance, this former child actor had a lively, extroverted personality as was evident by the cheerful conversations he seemed to be having with several contestants at once. 

He didn't bother to veil his interest, even when his obvious distraction caught the attention of the contestants he was chatting with. In fact, he almost looked like he would step forward in that social butterfly way of his, eager to make friends or connections. Unlike Aimé, Renato had no shyness holding him back.

But someone happened to be a step faster.

Phoenix Black, with his scuffed leather guitar bag and glossy dark blonde hair pulled back with a leather band, surprised Mi Sha by approaching him first. The young man had an aura of quiet observation, clearly a man who preferred watching to speaking, though his eyes held their own power. At once world-weary yet gentle and sympathetic, those soulful lavender eyes met Mi Sha's own dark unfathomable depths directly.

In a way, Mi Sha was reminded of himself. The only difference was that Mi Sha wouldn't consider himself an old soul. He was too petty, too spiteful, too stingy with his sympathies. 

“Hey, I'm Phoenix. Phoenix Black,” the young man introduced himself, holding out a hand in quiet friendliness. 

Mi Sha clasped it, meeting those pretty lavender eyes. Phoenix was one of those contestants who’d found his way onto the show with pure, raw talent and little else to rely on—no high-powered agency, no family fortune, no network of industry friends. People like him were a microcosm of the showbiz world’s overlooked treasures; they were often talented but unprotected, rich in potential but lacking capital or backing. And as Mi Sha had observed over the years, they could just as easily be disposed of, without extraordinary talent to anchor them or a selling point to catch the producers’ eyes.

But most importantly, he was a ground dweller.

The people of this world were separated into two kinds—ground dwellers and sky dwellers. Human ills such as overpopulation and pollution had changed the planet they lived on irreversibly leading to barren land and increasingly lack of natural resources. 

But luckily or unluckily, discovery of what was known as “Keys to Heaven” provided a solution. No one truly knew where they came from or why they existed, but their power was undeniable. Each Key was unique, bound to its holder, and capable of incredible feats of creation. With a single thought, they could build floating cities, design self-sustaining ecosystems, and manipulate the fabric of reality itself. It went without saying that their appearance had reshaped the world, both for the better and the worse.

With life on Earth becoming more difficult, the appearance of Keys that could lift entire landmasses into the sky, creating new havens for life offered humanity salvation amidst its decline. Only eleven such Keys had ever been found, their holders becoming figures of global fascination, their identities exalted or scrutinized, with their cities scattered across the globe like jewels in a rusting crown. 

However, while the Keys represented hope for humanity, it also exacerbated the dire situation on Earth. Governments, corporations, and individuals alike had fought bitterly for control of them, wars breaking out over the possibility of acquiring even one. Fathers turning against sons, daughters betraying mothers, once loving couples filled with hatred and animosity.

This of course accelerated the spread of environmental problems on Earth while also widening the gap between the privileged and those living on the fringes like never before in history. Which brings us back to sky dwellers, residents of the 11 floating cities who naturally felt more superior to the ground dwellers, those who remained living on the ground due to the lack of opportunity, connections, or other reasons. 

As a ground dweller, if Phoenix didn't turn out to be a dark horse, then the cards were truly stacked against him. Because if he didn't manage to make it into the final debut lineup, he would be deported back home to the barren, poverty ridden ground. In a way, the stakes were much higher for him than the rest of the contestants who came from other floating cities or even Ukiyo.

“Phoenix Black,” Mi Sha repeated, the name rolling off his tongue, evoking the smoky stage lights of underground venues so fond of by ground dwellers and sky dwellers looking to have a taste of “grunge living”. “Quite the name. Rolls off the tongue. You’ve performed a lot already, I take it?”

“A few gigs here and there,” Phoenix replied with a light shrug, brushing over the highs and lows that accompanied his experiences over the years. “Nothing like this, though. Just small stuff, you know, local stages. Makes you wonder if it all adds up to anything.”

A tentative smile appeared on that handsome face and a hand unconsciously reached up to tuck a long, glossy dark blonde strand of hair behind an ear in a sheepish, absentminded gesture. He seemed very happy that Mi Sha even responded, let alone showed any interest towards him.

“Depends on how you measure,” Mi Sha replied, the fingers of his right hand tapping against his jeans pocket where the Rubik’s cube was slipped into.

Though Phoenix had the initial attention of the production team, there was still no guarantee of a ticket to success. Without a storyline, friendship arc, or dramatic struggle such as becoming a dark horse, he would get lost among the hundreds of faces on screen, no matter how remarkable he might be off-camera. Just like in movies and stories, a fleshed out character was always more memorable and attractive. Likewise, many interesting things might have happened off screen to an unimportant character, but who would bother to look?

As Mi Sha considered Phoenix’s prospects, a habitual train of thought unraveled: appearance, makeup, camera angles, editing, script, capital, character design, fan service pairings… all these components layered together to construct a glossy image, each contestant becoming an illusion on-screen, a blend of lighting and fiction that the viewers adored, without ever truly knowing the reality of the person beneath. 

It was precisely this manufactured artifice that filled Mi Sha with equal amounts of distaste and morbid fascination—people of this era took thrill in watching lives twisted into shapes that entertained, uncaring of the truth behind the mask and Mi Sha could not say for certain that he had not become as guilty as the rest. 

Of course, if the unsavory truth behind the mask dared to reveal themselves to the public, well, that was a whole other matter. After all, the whole point of an idol was to present a shiny, bright and beautiful image that could please the audience. Like a fairytale, these young people were dream chasers but also dream weavers themselves.

For Mi Sha, the romanticism of this chosen industry wasn’t in its artifice (though he could admit that sometimes a moderate amount of packaging was needed) but in the subtle chaos that leaked through. Unpredictability, the thrill of real emotion against a script. Those raw moments when the actors slipped out of their roles, those fractured scenes that revealed more truth than any rehearsed drama could. 

It was why he had created Starbound Express in the first place, the whimsy to deliver something far greater than a pre-determined story, and to remind both audiences and actors alike that nothing would go as planned. 

“That’s all it takes, right? A chance,” Phoenix said, his gaze never wavering from Mi Sha’s face. Those lovely eyes shone with the quiet but unyielding intensity that belonged to someone who had fought tooth and nail to get where he was. Someone who understood that opportunity was fleeting and must be grabbed with both hands.

Someone... a lot like Mi Sha himself.

“That, and a little more,” Mi Sha replied, giving him a faint smile. “After all, even a gamble needs stakes.” What he didn't point out was that, luckily or unluckily, Phoenix had the highest stakes of them all.