“Are you serious? Possessiveness is the worst. Really. What a horrid trait. Bob, can you tell Emma to give me her dress?” He shrugged and shook his head. She kept forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to be part of the show.
“Well…” I said.
“Forget it. Never mind. I don’t need your clothes to look good. God, I thought we were friends, Emma!”
“Should just you and I go out?” Vanessa asked Alanna.
“Yeah, that sounds cool,” said Alanna.
“Wait,” I said. “You can’t go without me!”
There was a knock at the door and Catalina Cartwright stepped through it, draped in a flowing gold dress with a short chiffon train. Her hair was ironed perfectly straight. She reminded me of a pretty version of Donatella Versace. She was wearing a plastic coach’s whistle on a cord around her neck and just as all the cameras zoomed in on her she blew the whistle five short, loud times. “Did I get your attention?” she asked.
“Yes, of course,” said Alanna, her fingers shoved in her ears.
“I heard you girls are plotting an escape. I guess we’re not keeping you entertained enough. Is that right?”
“Oh no, Catalina. That’s not it at all. We’re totally entertained,” said Vanessa.
“Yes. Constantly,” I added.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it,” said Catalina. “What about you, Alanna? Is this enough entertainment for you?”
“Yes,” Alanna said, sounding almost meek.
“Wonderful. Now that we’ve established that you’re all properly entertained, I have a little surprise for you. I would like you all to meet me downstairs in the ballroom in twenty minutes. Dress in evening gowns. You three have an elimination ceremony to attend.”
“What? How is that possible?” asked Vanessa. “Aren’t Bellamy and Deb out on a date?”
“If I were you, I would use all twenty minutes getting ready instead of blabbering. I mean, actually, all nineteen minutes, now. I wouldn’t say any of you have properly represented our brand the past several dates. But hey, that’s just my opinion. What do I know,” said Catalina. “I’ll leave you three to get ready. See you soon,” she said, blowing the whistle one long last time and marching towards the door.
“Wait. Stop, Catalina,” yelled Alanna.
Catalina paused in the doorway, looking down at Alanna. “What is it, Alanna?” she asked. I did so admire her blatant contempt for Alanna Rutherford that I couldn’t quite tear myself away from the scene.
“How can there be an elimination ceremony? That doesn’t fit with the formula. I have never heard of such a thing! Is it just for the three of us? Bellamy would never do that to me!”
“Bellamy didn’t arrange this. Bellamy doesn’t even know about this yet,” said Catalina, smiling a smug, evil smile.
“Did you decide to do this?” asked Alanna. “I didn’t think you had that kind of pull.” She put her hand on the wall to steady herself. Her face was flushed a lovely shade of pink. Like everything, drunkenness made her even prettier. “Did the producers come up with this? I don’t understand. Bob, did you know about this? Bob, we’re totally friends. I can’t believe you didn’t say anything to me!”
Bob shook his head.
“Be downstairs in…” Catalina checked her diamond covered Art Deco wristwatch that was probably a non-working prop. “Now it’s fifteen minutes. I’m done adjusting schedules and making exceptions. Even for you, Alanna,” she said.
“Why would you all do this? Why?” asked Alanna. “You’re not really going to send me home. That would be suicide for the show. You know I’m right. Right, Catalina? Is this all a joke?” But Catalina was already gone.
I couldn’t be bothered any longer with listening to her speculations. I threw on an evening gown and began applying eye shadow and mascara. My hair looked dull and greasy so I pulled it back in a ponytail, which made it look even greasier. I took it out of the ponytail and tried to fluff it up, but it was like fluffing oily spaghetti noodles. We only had ten minutes left. Desperate, I clipped one of Deb’s faux extensions to the top of my head. I tease
d it and ratted it. It looked like matted doll hair and did not properly match my own hair, but at least it hid the greasiness a little. I sighed. Yet another moment of me looking bad, captured on TV.
I sneaked a peak at Vanessa and Alanna. Neither was dressed yet, but from the neck up, they both looked like they’d been getting ready for hours. Vanessa’s hair had somehow become a cascading waterfall of loose waves while Alanna and Catalina were arguing. Alanna, who had only joined us seconds earlier, now looked unpink, unruffled, and her hair was magically, perfectly, pinned back in a low chignon. Unfortunately, even with just a moment’s notice neither was capable of looking ugly.
I ran off to find some shoes since we were nearly out of time. I wanted to wear some strappy, sparkly sandals, but I was afraid I didn’t even have enough time to fasten them properly. I started throwing shoes left and right, trying to find something suitable.
“Emma, let’s go,” said Vanessa. How were they ready already?
I gave up and followed her and Alanna downstairs. On the way down the stairs, I tripped on the front of my dress, tearing the hem. Now it was impossible to hide that I was wearing tan businessy pumps with a rose colored evening gown. How many times did I need to wear the wrong shoes before I finally learned my lesson? Why had I even brought these shoes along? And to top it all off, they squeaked with every step I took. “Don’t cry. Do not cry,” I whispered to myself, brushing Bob and his camera out of my face.