→ You're on your own, kid

                                    

                                          
Shun had always been deeply introspective, almost to a fault. He spent hours, even days, ruminating on his life, his past, and his feelings. When he first encountered the term "child abandonment syndrome," he couldn't help but feel that it might explain the emptiness that gnawed at him from time to time. He'd been abandoned as a child, left in an orphanage with no family to claim him. Surely, that had to have left a mark on him, right? He had devoured all the studies he could find, read the writings of psychologists who specialized in children who grew up without parental figures. He took test after test, scouring the internet for answers, searching for something that would confirm what he was feeling deep down. Yet, no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find himself in those studies. He felt like an outsider, even in the world of emotional trauma.
The last test he took before joining The Boyfriend gave him a result he wasn't expecting: 85%. Eighty-five percent confirmation that he fit the profile of someone with child abandonment syndrome. It shocked him, but at the same time, it didn't seem to fit. He wasn't like the others in the studies. Sure, he was complicated. He could be moody, introspective to the point of being brooding, and even blunt to the point of pushing people away. But was that really all because of his childhood? Could his inability to hold down a meaningful relationship be boiled down to a test result?
When the producer of The Boyfriend reached out to him on social media, asking if he'd be interested in joining the first LGBTQ  dating show in Japan, Shun's initial reaction was to decline. It wasn't that he had anything against the concept of the show. In fact, the idea of a show like this, one that could bring visibility to queer relationships in a country where such things were still often kept behind closed doors, made him feel excited. But he had seen enough reality TV to know that it rarely depicted reality. There was always drama, always some level of manipulation, and it seemed like every time a queer relationship was portrayed, it was filtered through the lens of spectacle rather than authenticity.
But Taiki, the producer, wasn't giving up easily. He spent hours explaining his vision to Shun, promising him that The Boyfriend wouldn't be like the shows he'd seen before. This was meant to be something different, something meaningful. It would be an opportunity to showcase real relationships, real emotions, without the toxicity that often plagued other dating shows. Taiki's passion was infectious, and after two weeks of contemplation, Shun finally agreed to be a part of it.
He hadn't known at the time that the show was being made for Netflix and would be broadcasted worldwide. That realization came later, and it added an extra layer of pressure. Still, Shun wasn't someone who let pressure faze him easily. He told himself that he would approach the show the same way he approached everything else in life; cautiously, carefully, and with as much emotional armor as he could muster.
The first day he arrived at the house, Shun immediately regretted his decision. He was the last one to join, and as he walked through the door, he could already tell that he didn't quite fit in. The other contestants were all incredibly attractive—each in their own league, it seemed. But there wasn't anyone who caught his eye in the way he expected. No one made his heart skip a beat, no one sparked the kind of immediate attraction that most people on these shows seemed to experience. Shun didn't expect to meet his Prince Charming in the house, but still, it would have been nice to feel something.
The truth was, Shun didn't believe in love at first sight anymore. He had learned the hard way that love built on physical attraction alone didn't last. The rush of endorphins could only carry you so far before reality set in, and the day-to-day grind of a relationship began to wear down that initial spark. He had been there before. He had fallen in love quickly, only to watch the relationship crumble just as quickly. His heart had been broken more times than he cared to admit, and he had learned not to trust the instant rush of feelings that people so often confused for love.