Unscripted

Chapter Two - The Cast

I still didn't believe that I was about to blast my love life on national television in nothing but a bikini until the car stopped right in front of the villa. As I stepped out into the hot summer weather and stared up the stairs to the house I'd be living in for the next six weeks, I was dumbfounded yet again. My eyes travelled up the numerous flights of stairs, silently wondering how production was going to get my three (yes, three) suitcases up all of them.

At each flight, there was a level that overlooked the beach. From my point of view, the first one had an infinity pool that sent calm waves rippling down the floral ledges. The second appeared to be a secluded hang-out spot with hammocks, chairs, and lounges for people to watch the sunset. Finally, the third had another pool overlooking everything as well as the main entrance to the three story beach house. The lowest floor was covered in all glass and with the afternoon sun shining bright, the house looked too unreal to even be in front of me.

"Ah, Cara." A thin middle-aged man came up to me quickly with a thick French accent. "Gorgeous. Absolutely Gorgeous." He murmured as he took my hand and kissed it briefly before also kissing both of my cheeks. I tried not to cringe as I couldn't help but remember the last time a man touched me, but instead I smiled.

"Thank you," I said while he was already snapping at some workers to grab my suitcases.

"Call me Clement. Associate Producer." He said in a clipped but friendly tone while I followed him away from the staircases. I was a bit confused considering I'd have to settle in, but then remembered back in briefing that they wanted to film that reaction after meeting the other castmates.

Instead, he led us around the property and into a lower level that looked somewhat like a garage. There, I could see numerous workers, lights, and cameras as they scrambled to get things ready. I scanned the area to see if I would be able to see anyone that looked like they'd be filming with me, but then realized they must have staggered out arrivals so we wouldn't meet each other. I felt a pit of nervousness envelope me as I thought about having to mingle with everyone while cameras were stuck in our faces.

"Briefing told you, no?" He said over his shoulder, and I cursed myself for not paying attention as I followed him.

"I'm sorry?" I said and he stopped both of us in front of a door. Ready to be scolded, he turned around and instead grabbed a cigarette from his back pocket and lit it in front of me. Thankfully, he blew out his first puff away as he examined me.

"You are lucky you are sexy," he stated and I felt myself blush. "Don't worry, I like men." He drew in another puff, "You are last to arrive, I'll leave you in one of the rooms and management will bring your bags. Get ready within the hour. You will be first on-set, good eye candy to start off season. Before you go on, someone will help strap your microphone to your waist."

I tried not to scrunch my nose away from the smoke, "Got it."

"There are eight other singles - my advice," he said as he puffed away then opened the door behind him, "do not fuck on first night, looks tacky - people won't vote for you."

I blinked in disbelief, "Um. Don't have to worry about that from me. Thank you for the advice though." He motioned for me to follow through the door, and I wondered if he was even allowed to smoke in the house.

"Ah, yes, you were the prude." He looked over his shoulder again.

I scoffed, "I am not a prude."

He kept walking briskly, "You are the accountant, no?"

"Data scientist." I corrected and tried avoiding the pillows of smoke that he left in his wake. We navigated through workers that didn't seem to care until he brought me to another door. He opened it, and I was surprised to see a full on dressing room with mirrors, snacks, and a place to rest. I was equally surprised that my suitcases were already lined neatly by the wall.