Gilded Cage: Grand Closing

Inside the gilded halls of the Smith Estate, the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, freshly pressed suits, and the pressure of maintaining the perfect image of a brand.

In the sprawling penthouse, Lucille Faure stood before a full-length, three-way mirror, dressed in a sleek, form-fitting gown that shimmered under the harsh lights. Her black hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, and her tan skin seemed to glow beneath the professional makeup and flawless contouring. She was beautiful—undeniably so—but then again, her beauty was what had landed her in this position.

Becoming another puppet for her parents' brand.

A Faure—the name alone carried weight, fame, and expectations. It was a legacy she had never asked for.

Her parents had created Love's Triumph, the most-watched reality dating show in the world. It was a multi-billion-dollar empire where millions of people tuned in weekly to watch twenty men battle for the heart of a single, often impossibly beautiful woman.

The audience ate it up, the contestants bled for it, and the show's producers—her parents—watched it all unfold with carefully calculated smiles. It was a perfect formula, one that had made the Faure family incredibly wealthy.

Except that it had never been real.

She thought of her parents. They had found each other on a reality show just like this one, but as far as Lucille could remember, they were always distant, empty shells of people who had long ago abandoned love for the sake of ratings.

Her father, Gregory Faure, with his impeccable suits and sharp, calculating eyes, had long since stopped pretending that anything he did was for love.

And her mother, Elena Faure, whose beauty had once captured the world's attention, was now just a smiling face on television. Behind closed doors, they barely spoke to one another. Their love had never existed. They were just actors in a long-running show, living in a gilded cage.

Lucille had been trapped in this same cage for as long as she could remember. She truly didn't care for the false reality her family sold, nor did she care for the lies. Most of all, Lucille wanted freedom—away from everything her family stood for.

Which often filled her with immense guilt. All this luxury, billions at her fingertips, with people running after her and cleaning up after her... only for the so-called "spoiled brat" of the Faure family to want "freedom"? What a joke.

The cameras were rolling, the producers had their hands on the strings, and she was expected to smile, act like she cared, and—most importantly—fall in love. But she didn't believe in the show, and she certainly didn't believe in any of the men they'd bring on to compete for her heart.

This wasn't love. This was entertainment. This was a show, and she was nothing more than a character in it.

Her fingers gripped the cold glass of champagne that had been handed to her earlier, but she didn't take a sip. She couldn't bring herself to drink it. The bubbling mockery of celebration felt wrong in her hands.

"Lucille, honey, it's time," her assistant, Mira, called from the doorway, her voice filled with forced enthusiasm. Lucille turned to her and nodded, a pitiful smile already forming on her lips.

She could feel how Mira was trying to accommodate Lucille's feelings, and it made her feel all the more childish.

"Right. Time to give the people what they want," the dazzling woman muttered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else. She took one last look in the mirror. The girl who stared back at her was perfect—a well-crafted, artificial image of beauty.

Lucille sighed.

'Just keep moving forward.'

-----

Outside the Faure building, the bright lights of the city far below cast soft shadows on the greenery that filled the estate. The sky was a dim orange as evening fell over the metropolis. The buzz of the busy streets echoed in the distance, but here, in the luxurious district where the Faure estate stood, the world felt oddly still.

Lucille walked out of the huge doors to the skyscraper penthouse. She looked around at the few cameras and staff hanging around the front of the stairs before her. There was a podium inches behind the first step.

'What? Am I giving a national announcement?' Lucille chuckled to herself at the size of it all.

They had never done this for the other girls in previous seasons, but then again, Lucille wasn't just any girl, was she?

"So, you just have to stand right up there, and before the cameras start rolling, Producer R will give you the green light," Mira instructed.

"Alright, thank you," Lucille said, starting to make her way to the podium. "Do you know, by any chance, where Father is?"

Mira hesitated for a second before answering melancholically, "No, miss. I'm sorry."

'Ah, of course. What would Mira know about his whereabouts?' Lucille shook her head.

She was truly out of it to be asking her personal assistant about her father's location. Another female staff member, much shorter, jogged over to Lucille as she took her stance before the many microphones on the wooden stand.

Leaning down for the staff to do final touches to her look, she spotted a producer sitting behind the equipment box. Her eyes were adjusting to all the light shining her way, and she recognized him as a close associate of her father's.

'Doesn't care enough about me to come himself but cares enough about the brand's image to send a spy. Hilarious.'

-----

Somewhere below in the city, overlooked by the mountain where the Love District was located, people had gathered to watch the soon-to-be-broadcasted screen.

In a sleek black limousine, its windows tinted dark enough to shield the occupants from prying eyes, a man sat back in his seat, his eyes fixed on a large screen in front of him.

The screen was one of many placed across the city, showcasing the latest reality dating show from the Faure family.

The camera zoomed in on Lucille as she stood before a wooden podium, flanked by cameras and the flashing lights of the paparazzi. She spoke with the same practiced grace that she had carried her entire life, but there was a noticeable lack of joy in her movements. It was the kind of demeanor a woman had when she was forced into something she didn't want to do but had no choice in.

The man in the limo, dressed in an expensive suit that seemed too ostentatious for his features, watched the scene unfold with a faint, almost understanding smile. His eyes narrowed as the image of Lucille filled the screen.

He wasn't interested in the show. He wasn't here for the spectacle. But something about Lucille caught his attention. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze unwavering. His lips twitched with an almost predatory amusement at her words.

"I am truly overjoyed to be your next candidate in Love's Triumph. Many of you may know me as the little girl you watched grow up through my parents' paparazzi pictures, but now I stand before you as a grown woman, ready to follow the path they paved for me."

The man couldn't help but snicker at those words. He was thoroughly amused. How could she take herself seriously, lying with such a straight face?

He listened some more to the scripted announcement while all the pedestrians watching in awe believed every word.

"Love's Triumph, hmm?" He turned away from the screen and rolled up the tinted window.

-----

This was a game. And Lucille Faure, whether she liked it or not, was about to become the center of it all... she might as well start it off with a bang right?

As the broadcast continued, the camera zoomed in on Lucille's face, her cold, tired eyes looking straight into the lens as she spoke.

"Although I will be honest. I have long been described as someone with an old soul. All that's to say is that I will not be faking it for the theatrics and entertainment."

The producers all flipped through their scripts. This was nowhere to be found! Producer R looked to the man Gregory had sent to oversee the situation and saw a seething look on his face.

He then looked to Mira with shaking eyes, pleading with her. Mira quickly stumbled, trying to make her way to the center where she would be better in Lucille's line of sight, but it didn't matter.

Without a care in the world, Lucille smirked and continued her speech.

"How I am is what you will get, and I am a hard woman to impress. After all, I am a Faure. What could a man possibly offer me?"