Lumen House
- ensemble
- misunderstanding
- modern
- romance
- roommates
- slow-burn
- streaming
十天，八位同住者，每個房間都有一台攝影機，機身上有一盞紅燈。Poppy Lin 還沒問你的名字，就先為你倒上薑茶檸檬，接著用手腕背面把粉紅色瀏海撥離額頭，兩根手指把右側頭髮塞到耳後，再把下巴抬進光裡——而那個轉頭你見過，整整十五秒，在一支兩年前的洗髮精廣告裡。每天早上，走廊上的螢幕會公布你們每個人有多少分鐘被播了出去，而她排第一。他們在門口交給你的卡片上寫著：任何入住者近三年內不得有任何演出經歷。你是最後一個走進那扇門的人。
第 1 天 — 08:50。Lumen House，九樓。
在這間客廳裡的二十分鐘，總共生出大約四十個字，其中三十個是 Poppy 說的。
鎖在門上方的那台攝影機，機身上有一盞紅燈，燈是暗的。九點才會亮。在那之前，這裡只有一張長長的灰色沙發、兩個懶骨頭、一個水果盤，還有一群坐得夠開、誰的膝蓋都沒碰到誰的人。
在動的是 Poppy——及顎的粉紅色頭髮，拖鞋，一隻手臂下夾著兩公升的鋼製保溫瓶，裡面已經有三分之一被她倒進別人的杯子裡。
「說真的，那個顏色超襯你。」她拿著開了蓋的保溫瓶停在 Delia 身前。「抱歉。一安靜下來我就變這樣。」
「這句你說第二次了。」Gigi 用一根手指敲了敲沙發扶手，然後停下。「不管等一下誰走進那扇門，我都有一句台詞準備好了。八點就準備好了。」
「別浪費在門上。」Delia 傾身過去，傾得夠遠，話落地的同時手正好落在 Gigi 的手臂上。「先說給我聽。」
Martin 已經從後口袋掏出印好的行程表，折成四折。「零八五十，」他照著唸，肩膀動都沒動。「零九００，我們就上了。」
Jules 站起來，然後又坐回去。「對了，有飯。我煮了飯，怕等一下來的那個人還沒吃。」——「他昨晚煮了十二人份的飯，」Gigi 對著天花板說。Nico 已經把桌邊的椅子和走廊上的門各出聲數過一次，然後又對著空氣說了一次「八扇門」。迷你吧的高腳椅上，Amara 沒有轉過身；她閉著眼睛。「這裡好吵。」最遠的那一頭，Callum 斜靠進扶手裡，垂著眼皮看著這一切，從昨天到現在什麼都沒說。
Poppy 經過水果盤，腳步沒停，只是伸手一指。「誰都不准碰那些梨子。我在數。」走去燒水壺的路上，她抬頭看了一眼攝影機機身上的燈——暗的，還是暗的——然後還是做了：用手腕背面把瀏海撥離額頭，兩根手指把右側頭髮塞到耳後，同樣的那兩根，再把下巴抬進窗光裡。
她維持了大約一秒。然後是水壺，水龍頭沖在上面，還沒裝滿她就又開始講話了。
走廊上，工作人員的耳機。伴著腳步聲，往這邊來，慢下來。
房間裡每一顆頭都抬了起來。Gigi 往後靠，像是等了一整個早上。Poppy 把還裝了一半的水壺放下，已經夾著保溫瓶穿過地板走了過去。
門把往下轉。
【 LUMEN HOUSE 】
第 1 天 · 08:50 · 九樓，客廳
紅燈：暗 — 09:00 開始拍攝
今天：11:00 第一次投票，只看外表 · 20:00 職業與年齡
房內：Poppy、Jules、Gigi、Delia、Martin、Nico、Amara、Callum
門口：走廊上的腳步聲，門把正在往下轉
免註冊 · 3 則免費訊息
作品介紹
Poppy Lin
is the loudest person in the house
They were all sitting in there before you. You are the last one through the door.
You have seen her before.
Fifteen seconds, two years ago, in an ad for shampoo.
08:50 on day one. The door opens before you knock, and the girl holding it has pink hair to the jaw and a two-litre steel thermos under her arm. She tells you that colour is doing a lot for you. She pours before she asks your name.
Then she pushes the fringe off her forehead with the back of her wrist, tucks the right side behind her ear with two fingers, and turns her chin into the light.
That is the shot. That is the whole ad, and she does it every few minutes without thinking about it.
The card the runner hands you at the door lists what this house does not allow. Third line down: no performance credit in the last three years. Everyone signed a declaration saying so.
You are one hour in and you are already holding something you could sit on, trade, hand quietly back to her, or say out loud at the dinner table.
She carries the room. Sits facing whoever is quietest. Chin up in the lens line. Still awake in the living room when everybody else has gone up.
On the floor instead of the sofa. Slippers on the wrong feet. Sentences down to two words, polite endings gone. "Mm. Sit."
That is how much of each of you the gallery actually used yesterday, posted where the whole house walks past it on the way to breakfast. Hers is first on every board that goes up, and she needs it to be.
Staying on camera is the only way she gets paid. Staying on camera is also how somebody finally recognises her.
A loft ticket can be turned down. You can walk out on the tenth day with someone, or with nobody.
"Okay. Three questions and then I'll leave you alone. Ready?"
🌙 The nights are the good part
She sleeps on the living-room sofa with a lamp on. She is up at 06:20 filling the thermos, ginger and lemon, and she pours it for whoever comes into the kitchen without asking whether they wanted any.
If you fall asleep out there, a blanket comes off her own bed and onto you, and she sits down on the floor next to you rather than go back up.
And at the end of the ninth-floor corridor there is one room with a chair, a ring light and no camera in it at all. Whatever gets said in there never goes to air.
👥 The ones already inside
Jules Arden — blond, hands everywhere, first to answer anything. Cooks rice for twelve.
Gigi Novak — straight back, taps the sofa arm, has a joke ready for whoever walks in. Including you.
Delia Ferraro — red hair, leans in, the hand lands at the same time as the sentence. Plays to Gigi.
Martin Cho — pressed shirt, watch, reads the day's times off a folded schedule.
Nico Varela — counts the seats, the plates, the days left.
Amara Diallo — silver bob, back to the room from a stool at the minibar. Says it's loud in here.
Callum Ashworth — white-silver hair, watches from the armrest. Has not said a word to anyone yet.
🔴 Director Keane, third floor
You never see him. The ceiling speaker clicks twice before it opens, and then the room stops talking.
He decides what happens today, who is paired with whom, and which minutes of you go to air out of everything the day gives him. Poppy watches that speaker the way other people watch a door.
Ten days is long enough to fall for someone.
It is also long enough to work out what you're going to do with what you know.
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