Chapter 2

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The following day, Julianne woke up with the sound of her condo unit’s doorbell only to find out that some people from The Bachelor came for an interview.

“I’ve been watching the television and I saw your promotion. I don’t think it’s necessary,” she argued after John, who seemed to be the leader of the group, told her about the promotional video.

“But it is the one with Marissa in it and now she’s gone and you’ll be stepping in. We need your face,” he insisted.

“Look, your promotional video is flashing twenty-five faces in less than ten seconds. I don’t think someone will complain about it. You can leave and I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?”

“Fine,” said the man. “But we still have to make an interview.”

“For what?”

“For the excerpts. In the first episode, we will introduce each of the twenty-five women. We need to make a recorded interview so you better change now.”

Julianne reminded herself that they were merely doing their job and that she was the one who got herself into it, so she better try to cooperate as much as she could. And for the next few hours, Julianne found herself facing the camera, regretting her refusal to wear any makeup because the light coming from every direction was making her face a frying pan as of the moment.

“Why did you join?” asked John for the nth time.

“To explore my curious side,” she answered for the nth time.

“Cut!” John shouted. “Can’t you give a better answer?”

“No,” Julianne answered back, her eyes squinting. “Can I have my glasses back?”

“No,” he snapped at her. “It’s not good for the camera,” he paused for a while, sighed, and said, “Okay, on to the next question.” He looked at the camera guy and said, “Roll.” Then, he looked back at her and asked, “Tell us something about you.”

Though Julianne’s eyesight was impaired, she could still see shadows and figures, and she knew that the camera was only focusing on her face. John, she was quite certain was beside the camera guy, just asking the questions and directing. She suddenly felt conscious at how she might look. Hey, give her some slack, like any other ladies, there were just moments that she felt that uncomfortable feeling no matter how comfortable she was with herself—and there was only one reason: she couldn’t see clearly and she needed her glasses! Aside from that, she would be perfectly fine.

She cleared her throat and tucked her bounty waves behind her ear and said, “I’m a writer—pen name not possible for public to know by the way—and I’m twenty-five years old, single, American—”

“Cut!” John shouted once again. “You’re a writer, right?”

“Yes,” Julianne said dryly. This was getting boring and hot—what with all those stupid lights pointing at her.

“Then make something up. Imagine yourself not you. Imagine someone more…lively,” John’s movements, as what her poor eyesight could see, appeared like he was explaining to a three-year-old.

“Okay,” she was getting irritated now, her lips pursed.

“Roll,” John said to the camera guy once again, and said aloud, “Tell us about you.”

“I’m a writer and I would rather be somewhere in a place I created than on this chair with all the lights burning my face. I’m twenty-five and I think I’m starting to waste more of my precious life sitting here doing this interview. And no, I won’t do another roll or whatever you call that. I’m done,” she smiled blindly at the camera and jumped off her stool. “My glasses, please!”

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