The Alpha-Ntastical Effects of Being a Huzz Magnet

Note: In this scenario, Y/N is a girl… Y/N stands for “Your Name,” and Y/N has evolved to be someone whom everyone loves and has grown to be a whole separate individual.

Personally, I think that no one should EVER become a huzz magnet. From second-hand experience and observation, being a huzz magnet is one of the most EXHAUSTING things you could ever be… 

Not convinced? You’ll believe me once you hear what happened last Tuesday. Let’s travel into a flashback: 

I walk down the hallway when suddenly, I hear screaming. I look over to the crowds, and I spot my friend, Y/N. 

“OMG, Y/N I LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH!” a guy screams from the other end of the hallway. “WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND???”

Y/N gives him the biggest side eye I’ve ever seen. She opens her mouth, about to say something, but is cut off by the screams of yet another desperately single guy.

“BACK OFF. Y/N’S MINE.”

Y/N smacks him in a really hot way. “Who decided that?” 

Now the ladies start screaming too. “OMG, I MIGHT SWING THAT WAY FOR Y/N!! THAT WAS SO HOT…”

Irritated, I push into the crowd that’s amassed around us and drag Y/N away. When we finally walk into an empty bathroom after kangaroo-fighting the crowds away, I stare her in the eyes menacingly. 

“All these people fighting over you, yet you’re STILL single…”

Y/N sighs an exhausted sigh, built up tiredness from years of having to deal with situations like these, every single day. 

“There are too many to choose from, and I’m like, REALLY bad at making decisions. Also, no one has met my standards yet.” 

Y/N is really hot, pretty, and has a great personality, so it’s no wonder that she has high standards. I run my eyes over her perfectly sculpted features, and suddenly an idea pops up in my head.

“What if you make them fight in a tournament for your love?” 

Y/N’s eyes fly wide open, and she smiles, a bright smile that sparkles like a diamond. “YOU’RE SO SMART!” Her excited comment echoes through the bathroom, drowning out the sounds of a few annoyed grunts from constipated toilet-goers telling her to shut up. She lowers her voice to a whisper. “I’ll make them play…”

“ROCK PAPER SCISSORS!”

“THE HUNGER GAMES!” we exclaim in unison. 

“Okay, whatever, close enough…” Y/N smiles. “Let’s start printing out flyers!”

The next day, we plaster flyers all over the walls and hallways. For the next few days, my phone blows up with requests to join the tournament for Y/N’s affections. As a passionate contest manager, I respond to each one with measured enthusiasm and energy. With each entry, Y/N grows more and more scared, with her anxiety even showing through her ever-beautiful facial features. 

“You’ll be fine!” I assure her, though I’m not quite sure myself. It didn’t matter. As long as Y/N is assured, everything else will follow suit.

Finally, after several long days, the tournament arrives. The contestants gather around in our school’s football stadium, creating a questionably large crowd. I watch as Y/N walks up to the podium, tapping her long, slender fingers on the microphone. It doesn’t even squeak as she does so, unlike what would happen if anyone else were to use it without testing it.

“Ahem… Hello contestants! As you probably all know, you are all here to win my love.” Y/N flashes a charming smile, inciting dreamy gasps and shrieks in the crowd. “You will be participating in a tournament of ROCK PAPER SCISSORS!! For our first game, you each have 30 seconds to choose one of the following: rock, paper, or scissors. Only the minority gets to stay in the competition. Choose wisely, and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

A screen rises in front of every contestant, and the air is tense as they shakily choose the option that will determine their fate. After what feels like an eternity, the buzzer rings, signaling the end of the 30 seconds. Everyone looks up, nervous sweat painting their faces. The screen lights up, and I stand to read the results. 

“I will start by reading the majority. A shocking 50 percent of you picked ROCK, and are thus eliminated.” 

A chorus of sighs erupts from the crowd as chaotic shuffling is heard, followed by the exit of hundreds of participants. I look back up at the screen, continuing with my announcement.

“Since it’d be more suspenseful, I’ll now announce the winners. A whopping FOUR percent…” I pause briefly and stare directly into the crowd, standing on my toes, as if something were about to be thrown off balance. “...picked SCISSORS and get to stay.” 

A cacophony of cheers and sobs echoes throughout the stadium, a loud cry of both joy and despair. The eliminated once again leave the stadium.

“SILENCE,” I scream. “The contest has only just begun. The 20 of you left will now fight in a bracket-style tournament, where you compete against other contestants in 1v1s, the winner moving on to the next battle. Those who are not competing will sit in the stadium seats in that specific area.” 

I call the first two contestants’ names, and they stay on the field. 

Their battle is intense, dramatic, and a beautiful struggle involving hair pulling, steel chairs, and a surprise flamethrower for the pursuit of love, and so are the next few battles, all the way up until there are only two contestants left.

“For our FINAL battle, N/Y and Alpha CEO, please step onto the field.” 

Dozens of reporters flock to each of them, bombarding them with question after question. N/Y looks directly at the streaming camera, flipping his uneven side part bangs with a flashy smile. 

“Why do you think YOU should be the only one for Y/N?” A reporter asks N/Y dreamily, entranced by his beauty. 

N/Y’s cool demeanor vanishes at the mention of Y/N, dissolving into a flowering red blush blooming across the apples of his cheeks. 

“I think that, since my name is N/Y, I’ll be perfect for Y/N, since our names are complementary. You know what they say, opposites attract, and my name is exactly that for Y/N. Only I love and care about Y/N enough to be deserving of Y/N’s love.” He forms a heart with his hands at Y/N, which she responds to with a blow kiss. 

A different reporter runs up to Alpha CEO. “How about you? What makes you think you’ll come out on top?”

Alpha CEO nonchalantly turns to face the reporter, and the reporter’s face reddens. He speaks into the microphone with a nonchalant voice. 

“I’ll be Y/N’s alpha. I’ll protect her on the rainy days, I’ll give my life for her. I’ll go out at midnight for her cravings if she shows even just a hint of want. I’ll do ANYTHING for her. I’ll spoil her like a princess. She’s mine and mine ALONE.” The reporter faints from pure shock, and Alpha CEO majestically blows a gust of wind, safely carrying the reporter out of the stadium. 

“Alright, everyone out, the contest needs to begin.” I glare at the reporters, who quickly run out of the stadium, scrambling to get back to the press booth up top. N/Y and Alpha CEO walk up close to each other, eyes widening in hopes of intimidating the other. 

“Don’t you dare take Y/N away from me.” N/Y growls, and Alpha CEO’s expression morphs into one of excitement. 

“You wish Y/N were yours.” Alpha CEO says tauntingly, and they back away from each other. 

“Alright, N/Y and Alpha CEO, prepare for battle. Once again, you both have to choose either rock, paper, or scissors. If the round ends in a tie, you must battle again. Ready, set…GO!” 

I watch as N/Y and Alpha CEO charge at each other, and stop a finger’s length away from each other. 

“ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS, SHOOOOOOT!” N/Y and Alpha CEO scream in unison, their voices echoing in the dark embrace of night. 

I watch as the fingers slowly rise from N/Y’s fist, two sticks of flesh slowly straightening, the creases becoming more visible in the skin of his joints. Scissors. At the same time, I observe Alpha CEO’s fist. He relaxes his fist, as if he were about to shoot out all five fingers. I watch anxiously as the fingers make the motion of reaching out, but in the nick of time, slowly clench back. Rock. 

The stadium erupts into screams. N/Y falls to the ground, his knees pressing deep into the fibers of the false grass, tears slowly trickling down his cheeks and into the fabric of his shirt. Alpha CEO begins howling like a wolf in the wild, hopping up and down as if he were a kangaroo. N/Y gets dragged away by a few security guards, and Alpha CEO stands proudly in victory. 

“For this moment, I would like to thank my father, a former top alpha, my mother, the most dominant alpha I know, and my siblings, friends, and all my relatives for bringing me to this moment.” Alpha CEO looks like he wants to cry, but can’t, because, well, he’s an alpha CEO. 

In this moment, where everyone else celebrates Alpha CEO’s victory, I look back at my friend, Y/N. There is a conflicted expression on her face, one not of joy, which I hadn’t expected. 

The whole point of the tournament had been to make her happy. So why wasn’t she? 

My thoughts are cut off as she looks back at me with tears sparkling like stars in her eyes. She gets up and runs to me, pulling me into a tight embrace. We are invisible to them all, Alpha CEO and all the others, blinded by the glory of his victory. Y/N whispers something incomprehensible into my ear, and my brow furrows as I let go of her. 

“What did you say?” I look at her, confused.

Tears begin falling out of her eyes. “I love you. I don’t love Alpha CEO, nor do I want to be with him, ever. If I can’t be with you, I would rather just not be with anyone.”

I am speechless as my mind flashes back to our childhood together, back when Y/N was just a regular girl, just my friend, and not the hot, mature, pretty Y/N she is today. I think back and remember. I did love her, and I still do. 

I pull her back into an embrace, and my voice cracks as I speak. “I love you too. I always have.”

Fireworks boom in the distance, and the stars form into a line of text. I look up and squint my eyes. A new Y/N has been chosen. I look at my friend, no longer Y/N. I look at her with happy tears in my eyes, and we embrace, a moment feeling like forever, yet also no time at all. At last, she is mine, and I am hers.

So maybe being a huzz magnet isn’t so bad after all. But sometimes, the privilege of having a large selection of choices makes you lose sight of what you had sought all along.