Before leaving her abode for the "Who's Real" contest her thoughts spiraled into self-doubt. Soon she would pit her make believe existence against two living human contestants. On live national television! She'd done everything to conceal her artificiality. She'd put on make-up. She'd memorized the refrain of a top ten love song, practiced relating her aspiration: "I've always wanted to write a poem." She even planned the effect of a tear rolling down her cheek. But what if they saw beneath the surface? Saw the fiberglass weavings under her fragile, skin-colored veneer? It meant so much to her to win. Once they had certified her as real, she could do what real people did: share intense, one-time conversations with chance acquaintances, go shopping at Wal-Mart, use a cell phone and all the other mysterious and wonderful rituals accessible only to people with hearts and souls. At the studio she lost her way and wandered onto the set of a soap opera. Something about her, some searching look in her eye, struck the director. She was immediately given a role, returned each day to live out her new life with her new friends. And it was a sensation. The soap opera's ratings shot into double digits. Sacks bursting with fan mail arrived for the new character. Men basked in fantasies about her. Women all over the world saw her and wanted to be just like her.

Story #180