The One

by Danielle Allen

  Although the title was a little too on the nose for me, it was a surprisingly poetic look at living a life where women offered up their bodies first and their hearts second and their minds last.

  He shook his head with amusement. “I’ve experienced some crazy shit, but depending on who I’m writing for or what I’m being asked to write about, I work with the artists to help tell their stories. ‘Ass Everywhere’ is true for DJ Ox. I hung out with him and from what I saw and what he told me, that’s the life that he’s living. The songs that I’ve written that are solely written by me, those are true to life. I leave a lot of me in all of my songs, but it takes the spin of whoever the artist is. When I write what I feel, real or imagined, I put myself in the situation. That’s the only way it feels true.” He let out a little laugh and turned his head toward the fountain. “I shouldn’t be telling you all of this, any of this. I’d appreciate it if you’d please keep it to yourself.”

  “Hey,” I uttered, reaching up and touching his face. I turned his head back toward me. “I would never tell anyone anything you told me.”

  He grabbed my hand from his cheek and kissed the inside of it. The electricity crackled between us. I let out an audible breath.

  Is this what swooning is?

  The kiss scorched the skin of my palm and coursed through my entire body. Butterflies started at the base of my stomach and fanned out.

  “You are going to kill it on this show,” I murmured, shaking my head and gently pulling my hand out of his grasp.

  He smiled, but his eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “You are going to own The One.”

  “Why do you say that? You have to give me a reason.”

  “I can give you five.”

  “By all means…” He lifted his upturned hands.

  I lifted my pointer finger in the air. “First of all, look at you. You’re sexy as hell and you’re so comfortable with who you are as a person that you made me comfortable with you on sight. Second of all, you have a house full of women who don’t know you and are already saying they love you. Third, you are sweet. That hand kiss is the stuff shows like The One are made of. That hand kiss is the stuff unrealistic expectations are made of. They’re not going to be able to have another bachelor after you and you’re going to completely fuck things up for every man in America. Fourth, your personality really is amazing. You’re funny and intelligent with just the right bit of a sarcastic edge.” I stood up, lifting my leg over the bench and backing away. “Everyone is going to love you. You are going to thrive on the show.”

  Julian rose to his feet and my head dipped back as I kept eye contact. He appeared to be six feet tall and hovered over my five foot seven inches.

  “Well, if that’s the case, why does it sound like you’re telling me goodbye?”

  His face conveyed a myriad of emotions—confusion being the one I picked up on first. I thought I saw flashes of disappointment, but I wasn’t sure if that was wishful thinking or not.

  I continued backing away from him, creating a safe distance between us. “I’m not telling you goodbye. I’m still a contestant so you’ll see me in a couple of hours.”

  “You know what I mean.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Why are you abruptly walking away right now?”

  Holding up all five fingers, I admitted the truth. “Fifth, there’s something about you.”

  His eyes seemed to laser focus into me and my voice faltered as I continued.

  “You’re a poet and you truly have a gift. I could watch you work out song lyrics for hours. You have a way with words that completely sucks me in. And it would be too easy and too risky for me to go down that rabbit hole. So Julian Winters, I bid you adieu. It’s been real.”

  Without giving him a chance to respond, I turned on my heel and jogged out of the fountain area and moved quickly through the garden. For a brief second, I was disappointed that he didn’t run after me or at least call my name. But then I thought about the setup of The One and the premise behind it.

  Why would he chase after one woman he just met—regardless of how crazy the chemistry is between us—when he has eleven more women ready to throw themselves at him?

  As soon as the thought entered my head, I shook it off.

  I’ve been here for less than twelve hours and I’m already getting caught up in the bullshit. I don’t need him to run after me. I chose to walk away. And I chose to walk away for a reason. A good reason.

  Sighing, I picked up the pace and moved toward the house. The faster I moved, the harder I breathed, and the hazier my mind became. My heart beat was out of control. Slowing down near the well-lit trailers, I peeked into the makeup trailer to see if Koko was still around. I needed a touch up and some best friend talk.

  Fortunately, she was alone and cleaning up when I burst through the door.

  Koko took one look at me and waved me into the trailer frantically. “Come here! Close the door!” She washed her hands and pointed to her makeup chair. “What the fuck happened to you?”

  I plopped down in the chair and allowed her to dab my face with a moist toilette. My heart was still racing, but I wasn’t out of breath. It was him. The way he looked at me. The way his fingers brushed against my skin.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “The worst possible thing that could happen on day one of this bullshit happened.”

  She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. She lowered her voice. “You fucked him on camera?”

  “No, worse. I fell for him off camera.”

  *****

  Chapter 5

  After telling Koko everything that happened, I followed the walkway back the way I came until it led me to the French double doors of the side entrance. I heard yelling before I even walked through the door. The noise was to my immediate right, in the sun room, so I peeked in. A producer seemed to be strategizing with two contestants. The contestant that was doing the yelling was Tori, the blonde bitch from the cocktail party the night before. Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes and continued moving through the house.

  “Zoe!” Mya, my newly minted roommate, sighed with relief as she popped up from behind me. She lowered her voice. “Where have you been?”

  I smiled at the brunette beauty. Mya sat beside me in the limo and while everyone else was talking incessantly, she didn’t feel the need to talk. We silently observed everyone else and when someone said something ignorant, we looked at each other and smiled.

  Our friendship and roommate status was born in that moment.

  “I’m just getting back from a walk and getting my makeup touched up,” I replied on our way to the spiraling staircase. “But I went to wardrobe earlier and my dress should’ve been delivered by now.”

  “Well, I just left wardrobe and I got cursed out because I waited until the last minute. But I went when they called me! Aren’t we supposed to be down in the living room at six? I still have an hour to get ready!”

  I smiled, amused. “Yeah, exactly. I got yelled at when I stepped on the grass earlier. I think everyone is high strung because it’s the first show.” Once we got up the stairs and entered our bedroom, I continued. “This is supposed to be reality TV, but there isn’t anything real about it. Everything is micromanaged. This producer keeps asking me if I have time to speak with her before the cocktail party tonight.”

  “Is it the one with the short haircut?” Mya asked, sitting in the middle of her bed.

  “That’s the one.” I shook my head, kicking off my shoes and sitting on the edge of mine.

  “She cornered me too, but I was heading to wardrobe so she said she would stop by our room before six.”

  I groaned, letting my head fall back. “I need a nap before I can deal with this bullshit.”

  “Unfortunately you don’t have time for a nap, but hopefully once we get ready, it’ll be too late for her to try to feed us lines.”

  “Is that what they’re doing?”

  “I think so. I saw Bailey reading a script. A scr
ipt!”

  We sat on our respective beds and talked about what we expected. When Mya said she heard one of the ladies in the house caught a glimpse of Julian, I remained silent. For some reason, it felt right to keep it a secret. I didn’t want to share my time with him with anyone else in the house. So I nodded and smiled at what our housemate said Julian was wearing—she was wrong.

  Where I held the anti-reality TV perspective, Mya was the hopeless romantic that thought reality TV dating shows were real. Although we had two polar opposite views, we somehow found ourselves meeting in a new point of view that teetered between appalled by how fake everything was and excited to spend time with Julian.

  We’d just finished getting dressed when there was a knock on the door. Mya and I immediately looked over at each other blankly. It took the second series of knocks before she walked over and opened the door.

  “Hi guys. I’m Jamie,” the producer introduced herself as she eased into the room. “I just wanted to talk to you about tonight. How are you feeling? You’re meeting Julian Winters!”

  My stomach fluttered, but I didn’t say anything. Mya yelped.

  Jamie smiled, but it seemed forced. “From what I can tell, he’s a great guy. I am assigned to you two and I just want to make sure you two make it to the finale. And the best way to do that is to have a game plan.”

  “Game plan for…?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

  “To win.” The inflection in her voice made it clear that she thought the answer was obvious. Jamie looked back and forth between the two of us. “How are you two going to approach this?”

  “I’m going to be myself,” I answered before giving her a tight smile and walking back to the mirror.

  My hair and makeup were utter perfection, but the dress was exquisite. The wardrobe department had chosen dresses specifically for each contestant based on a style profile that was in the application. Whatever Koko filled out for my style was enough for them to get the exact dress I would’ve picked for the night.

  I mean, it would be the dress I’d pick if I had thousands of dollars to spend on one dress.

  It was black and fitted, hugging my generous curves. It was floor-length with a thigh high split and the sweetheart neckline showed off my breasts without being over the top. I paired the chiffon number with my red pumps.

  “So I want to talk to you both about tonight.” She held up two small microphones that needed to be clipped to our dresses. “And I came to mic you up. Just a reminder, when the battery pack is green, it’s live. When it’s red, it’s off. If it’s blinking red that means we’re trying to locate you. It takes a few minutes, but there’s a sensor that gives us a general idea of your whereabouts.”

  Mya tossed her hair over her shoulder and held her hands out at her sides. “Where am I supposed to put it?”

  Mya’s white skin-tight dress had a high neckline, but was completely backless. While on me, the dress might’ve looked overly sexualized. On Mya and her smaller curves, the dress looked sexy, yet elegant.

  “I will tuck it right on your shoulder. For the most part, your hair will cover it,” Jamie answered, problem solving on the fly. She walked over to Mya and started putting the mic on her. “I also wanted to give you both a few tips. You may want to play up who you are.”

  She finished pinning the mic on Mya and moved across the room to me.

  “What do you mean?” Mya asked, fixing her hair.

  Avoiding eye contact with me, Jamie pinned the mic on the inside of my sweetheart neckline. I looked down and it was almost undetectable.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, still waiting for Jamie to answer Mya’s question.

  She took a few steps back and looked between us. “Well,” she started slowly, almost nervously. “You two need to play up your personalities. All of the women have notes and tips that will help them stay in the game longer. But for you two, you need to…play up your personalities.”

  Play up our personalities? She doesn’t even know us to say… Wait… Is she saying what I think she’s saying? No, she can’t be. That’s not even legal.

  I felt my eyebrows come together. “I feel like you’re taking the long way around to the point you’re really trying to make.”

  “Yeah,” Mya agreed, putting her hands on her hips.

  Jamie sighed, the fake smile that was plastered on her face fell. “Okay, fine. Mya, what are you? Mexican? I need you to play up the fiery Latina in you. And Zoe, you need to be the sassy black girl. You know…” She snapped her fingers in a Z-formation in the air.

  I was in shock. I looked at Mya, whose mouth was agape and eyes were watering.

  Everything in the room froze in time as Jamie’s words echoed in my ears. My mind was spinning and then my shock gave way to anger.

  “First of all, you will not try to force us into stereotypical roles. We are going to be who we are, period. So to say we need to ‘play up our personalities’ is bullshit code for us to perpetuate your small-minded idea of who we are. You don’t know us to know if we’re ‘fiery’ or ‘sassy’ so to assume that is problematic. Second of all, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibits you from even coming to us with this. That case against that other reality show was dismissed only because it focused on casting decisions and how it affected the First Amendment. But the First Amendment does not protect overzealous producers actively violating our rights. Third, I’m a woman, not a girl. Don’t make that mistake again. And fourth, fuck you.”

  Jamie shook her head. “I didn’t mean to offend you guys. I just want to be honest with you. I’ve been working on reality dating shows for the last ten years and minorities don’t last long on these things.”

  Mya spoke up. “Isn’t that Julian’s decision? He wouldn’t have selected us to be on the show if we weren’t viable options.”

  Jamie shook her head and tucked her short hair behind her ears. “Julian isn’t the only one making the decisions. His decisions are taken into advisement when he fights for a girl to stay, but at the end of the day, this is a business. Robert Brady is the creator, writer, and executive producer. This is his business. And the only way to keep him happy is to keep the ratings up. And the only way to keep the ratings up is to give the people what they want.” She shrugged. “And unfortunately, they want fiery and sassy from the two of you.”

  “I’m not doing it. And it would be in your best interests to not say shit to me for the rest of my time here,” I replied dismissively.

  “I’m not even fiery. I don’t have a temper. I’m a librarian not some sexy temptress!” Mya turned away from us and headed to the mirror. She dabbed at her eyes. “It’s almost six, we have to go downstairs.”

  Jamie backed away from us, stopping at the door with a sympathetic look. “Look, I didn’t want to be the one to have this conversation with you guys. My girlfriend is African American and I know how this sounds. I understand why you’d be mad. But the only way to stay around long enough for Julian Winters to get to know you and fight for you to stay is to do what will keep the network happy from week to week. Think about it.”

  The door closed with a light click behind her.

  Walking toward the door, I took a deep breath in order to calm myself down. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” Mya answered, her eyes were pink and watery from the tears she was holding back. “Because she’s right.”

  “No, she’s not.”

  “Yes, she is. Have you ever seen one of these shows? We’re going to be the first ones to go. We’re going to have to take drastic measures to get noticed!” Her weepy voice broke.

  Thinking about Julian, I remembered how his eyes traveled up my body. I remembered how he spoke to me, sung to me, opened up to me.

  “Don’t listen to that bullshit, Mya. I’m not going to be anything, but myself. I would advise you to do the same. You’re great. You have depth and you’re beautiful. Don’t doubt that.”

  “But this is Julian Winters!”

  “And you’re Mya…” Cra
p! Last name is…? What is her last name! “Santos?” I guessed, my voice elevating and my smile unsure.

  I was ninety percent sure I was correct.

  Mya’s teary expression gave way to delight as she started to giggle. She lightly touched under her eyes before turning and walking toward me. “You forgot my last name.”

  “Well, in my defense, we met this morning.”

  “Oh God, why does it already feel like it’s been at least two weeks since we arrived?”

  I nodded, walking out the door. She was right. “This isn’t normal.”

  *****

  Chapter 6

  The bright lights of the chandelier competed with the production lights. I tried not to be nervous, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that I was being filmed. More than that, I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that I was about to see Julian again in front of a camera.

  Focus, I told myself, shifting my weight nervously. I’m on camera.

  “Ladies, we’re going to have you each enter from this door here,” Bryce explained, gesturing toward the main entrance. “Julian will be stationed at the bottom of the staircase. You will enter, greet him and then move along to the back patio where there will be music, drinks, and a few things to nibble on. Once everyone has had a chance to meet and greet Julian, he will come out here and you will have your chance to make a connection. He will be getting rid of two of you tonight if he feels you are not…the one.”

  Bryce smiled toward a camera without actually looking at the camera until someone yelled, “Cut!”

  “Okay, ladies, follow me,” a petite woman with braids called out. We fell into step behind her in the order we were placed in. She led us out the side door and down the cobblestone walkway. “Okay you’re going to line up in order and the golf cart will take each of you one by one. Once you are in the cart, the camera and mics will pick up everything you say and do so just act natural. Good luck.”