The woman who was managing the audience gave the signal, arms in movement as she encouraged. They applauded. More applause than we got.

Gary Nieves approached. To my eyes, he was a touch red in the face, but I wasn’t sure if that would translate to the cameras.

We were indicated to take our seats, while the hosts greeted Gary Nieves. The arrangement of chairs and table were an ‘L’ shape, the short leg being an arrangement of four puffy chairs, the long leg being a single table. They faced the audience, while we faced them.

Cameras were moving, tracking our every movement. I smiled, keenly aware of my hair, my expression, and my body language. I was aware of the others’ body language and expressions, where visible.

I saw Tristan hesitate a moment, then step away from the chairs. Toward Gary Nieves. Wearing a smile that conveyed I had full confidence in Capricorn, I followed him with less-than-full confidence. Past the three hosts, to Gary Nieves.

As the hosts finished with Gary, Tristan reached him, hand extended to shake. Cameras moved to follow the exchange, and I could see the fraction-of-a-second hesitation in Gary.

He didn’t want to shake Tristan’s hand? Fear? Or optics in the eyes of the audience?

He couldn’t refuse without looking like the bad guy, so he did accept the shake. With no helmet on, only a mask around the upper half of his face, Tristan was free to flash him a winning smile.

As Tristan turned away, Gary shook the hand he’d used to shake Tristan’s, not so much like it was gross, but like Tristan had hurt him. I could see the hitch in Tristan’s stride as he spotted it at the last second before turning completely away. He met my eyes.

I was pretty sure I could tell from his expression that he hadn’t squeezed Gary’s hand. It was a power play to make us look bad, in exchange for a power play intended to toy with Gary’s optics. A fine distinction, to discern if Tristan was resentful because of lingering feelings from Gary and Lookout a few minutes ago, or if it was because he’d just been played.

Then we were walking in opposite directions. Tristan walked to the chairs. I walked over to Gary to shake his hand. I leaned in closer when I did have his grip. I murmured. “Going to pretend like I squeezed your hand too hard, Mr. Nieves?”

There was no smile, no change in expression, only a firm shake. I smiled at him.

The others were seated as I strode over to the chairs. We’d picked good people for this, and all of us came across as confident, and our team looked genuinely good. Even Lookout, who had the most reason to be nervous, gave nothing away.