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The small talk faded to quiet, the two or three kicking up snow trying to bury each other’s feet quickly became a fine crowd of gentlemen, straight posture, head held high and all, as the entrance to the tent parted even wider open, ushering in the scampering sounds of winter boots at the plenty.

“Good luck by the way,” Leon whispered, leaning close by my left with his hand outstretched and waiting for mine. “May the best lover win.”

Should simply just ignore him, downplay, be disinclined. Encouragement was only just gonna intensify his competitive streak. And only a complete masochist would want to make things even harder for himself, wouldn’t he?

Smiling, shrugging, I shook his hand.

Don’t read into that one…

“Gentleman, gentleman!” The elf-attendant sprung into the tent with both arms stretched wide in an enthusiasm shared with her beaming smile. “Wow, you’re all grouped up already! Good. Stay that way, don’t move! Actually shuffle a bit to the left if you could! All the way to the front, much easier to see the horde of handsomes that way. From one end to the next, number one to fifteen in ascending order, please! Go!”

Like good little boys we all scampered and shambled attempting to find our number neighbors, and once organized and sorted, our backs up against the flappy canvas, the-elf lady paced and observed, her hair coated in a bright white fluttering with the stride of the green coattails of her uniform… reminding me too much of a particular other Elf in the same lovely mix of white and green.

“So, the game!” She said, clapping her hands together, an echo rippling with her proclamation. “Some of you might have already guessed it, and indeed, the game involves the lot of you being judged and graded on how you are!”

.....

So, I was right. We really are catwalk models.

“As to who would be judging you, well, I suppose that part is pretty obvious already right?”

As if planned and on cue, a swarm of girls flooded into the tent all at once, some of which I instantly recognized, and most I didn’t. That one judge that with that pizza question, the other judge with the round-rimmed glasses. They all flocked onto a table each, and all fifteen tables filled meant…

“Fifteen judges for a total max of fifteen points,” the elf-lady continued to pace and explain. “There are actually two parts to the game, so really it’s fifteen points for each part, my mistake. In the first part of the game, you will be judged based on your outer beauty, your attractiveness, sex appeal, because like it or not, we deprave women are just as shallow as you men, believe you me!”

Some of the guys were starting to squirm around hearing the stakes of the game, number six to my right in particular was finding it hard to keep his gaze forward, and I don’t blame him one bit—all those piercing eyes on us, our dignity and pride as men all at the mercy of fifteen complete strangers. I don’t know how people even have the confidence to model.

Didn’t shock me at all to see Leon unfazed by it all. Still exuding confidence and grace in tenth place, and I’m really not sure how he could make standing and breathing look as cool as he does, but he just does.

“And say, if you aren’t chiseled and rugged and sexy by nature, well… that’s why there’s the second part of the game… the inner beauty!” With a little flourish for presentation, the elf-lady pulled a small little bell from out of her pocket, dangling it forward ensuring each one of us had a good look-see. “Fifteen guys for fifteen girls. One by one you’ll have a little sit-down, a little talk with each of the judges, and you’ll have to show them that you’re more than just looks! That behind your mysterious bad-boy eyes hides a soft, sensitive plushy within. A speed date basically! You do that, you manage to make a girl swoon, and you get yourself a point! Do that fifteen more times and you get full points! Easy, no?”

Judging by all the fidgeting and shuffling happening like some sort of poorly choreographed line dance, I’m gonna garner a guess and say none of the boys here agree it wasn’t gonna be as easy as she says.

Kinda starting to wish I had dressed my best for today… oh well, too late now.

“The lucky guy with the most points… well, gets the most points!” The elf-lady shrugged. “And don’t think for one second you’re alone in this mess. Just right next door, your better halves are all being lined up on a wall the same as you! So really, it’s a team effort here! At the end of the game, you and your significant other’s points will be combined, so do try and pull your weight, alright? After all, a couple is only truly lovely when both are as equally beautiful as the other, right? Both inside and out.”

Standing on top of my mountain of my own uneasiness, Adalia was peaking over the summit. Just thinking about her was enough for me to make light of my own worries in favor of her predicament.

There was no doubt that outer beauty-wise, Adalia was an easy fifteen out of fifteen. It’s only the second part of the game where my concerns lie… when it came to having any sort of presence, she was only second to the mute Sera herself.

Still, I believe. And in turn, I know she has faith in me too. Can’t let her down. Especially not after my slip-up in the first game.

I mean, it’s only fifteen girls I have to somehow win over… how hard can that be, really?

“Alright, so without any further ado…” from somewhere nearby cued in the beat of groovy music, and at complete random, I saw Elf-lady thrust her finger a few inches to the right of me. “...number six! Step up to the front, you’re going first! Hold your head high, and don’t forget to give your best smile!

On the contrary, number six slowly skitter forward in nervousness and horror. When his knees buckled from under him, my heart did too. Once upon a time, I could see myself in his shoes.

Hell, I still do.

“Matthew Burns!” The elf lady addressed the judging crowd, suddenly with a stack of forms in her hands, and her eyes quickly sifting over the top of the pile. “Says here he turned twenty just last month. Still young! A green-eyed, blonde-hair specimen! A rare combination! Look at that jawline, nose is not too bad too, don’t you think? Well, judges, thoughts?”

At first, no one on any single table twitched a muscle. Matthew’s wriggling feet squirmed even deeper into the snow almost as if wanting to dig his own grave already.

Then, from far in the back, a hand rose up amongst the silent crowd. Then on the right, another hand. Somewhere in the middle, two more hands joined to make four.

A second passed, two seconds, then three…

“Four out of fifteen,” the elf-attendant declared, tutting her lips in a frown. “Tough crowd, I suppose. Alright six, fall back in line and chin up! You still got a chance to impress afterward!”

If that was supposed to lift his spirits, then let’s just say there was no reviving the absolutely dead. Poor guy was a walking corpse shambling back to my right. And while the beat was amping up, the same could not be said for our morale.

“Fourteen!” grinning, the elf-butcher narrowed her sight toward her next chosen lamb for slaughter. “Feeling lucky, feeling handsome? I hope that you are ’cause you’re stepping up! C’mon, come forward!”

With some confidence, and lots of unspoken prayers, fourteen somehow manage to snag for himself a higher standing of eight out of fifteen hands raised for him.

Then eight on my left was the first to break the double digits, amassing an impressive eleven official seal of approvals. Sadly, two only managed to garner a less impressive five out of fifteen, then four stepped up to the plate and returned to the line with a middling seven.

This went on for quite a while, as our numbers continued to shrink, and arms kept getting raised, finally, the inevitable and eventual happened.

“Number ten!” exclaimed the attendant, wearing an almost knowing smile as she caught Leon’s bright blue eyes. “If you could.”

“Of course,” with a slight curtsy and a chuckle, Leon boldly stepped forward. “My pleasure.”

As if snared in a trance, the elf giggled along, and then turned to the judges, who at this point had shown only the mildest interest to our ranks, suddenly had their gazes widening and their attention rousing.

“I suppose no introduction or descriptors is necessary here, I don’t think,” She muttered in amusement, lowering her stack of forms and catching the look in every single look of the judges’ eyes. “We’ll just make this quick. So who just found the apple of their eye?”

Fourteen.

The highest score so far, probably the highest score there will ever be. Fourteen out of fifteen love-struck judges had their arms stretched out simultaneously almost as if in reach for him.

I couldn’t help but notice the missing point, the only judge with her arms kept seated atop the table could not be seen at all on account of being two tables behind almost everyone else.

Whoever she was, if even Leon himself wasn’t meeting her standards, then I’m not sure anyone ever will.

“You girls are much too nice,” Leon remarked, flashing his pearly whites and melting over a dozen icy hearts into sizzling puddles. “Thank you. And I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you soon.”

Then with another humble bow, Leon fell back in line, and I could practically feel the overall ambiance of us participants take a nosedive off the cliff of despair… because like hell anyone was keen to try and follow that up.

But of course, beggars can’t be choosers, can they?

“Well, that certainly set the bar, didn’t it?” chortled the elf, whirling back at us much to our fright. “Question now is, how do we follow that up? Who do we follow that up?”

Slowly, almost outright ominously, she took her time pacing across, pondering her choice, and with every pause in her stride followed up by a bout of fidgeting heads and loss of eye contact on our side.

Until, finally, she took another step and abruptly halted there. With a blink, an impish smile, and a flutter of white hair, the elf turned to look at me.

“Number Seven!” She exclaimed loudly, drowning out the reverberating thud of my heart dropping into my stomach. “Your time to shine.”