It has been two days since I filed for a leave of absence, and I must admit, I feel quite out of place. While most people fear missing out on social media, in my case, it is the absence of work that leaves me feeling like a fish out of water. It's almost as if work has become my addiction, and now that I am away from it, I am experiencing withdrawals. It's like being addicted to a drug and wanting to go to the office, but it's not all bad. Honestly speaking, relaxing, laying around, and sleeping in is good in moderation.
As I lay here, indulging in the luxury of sleep and leisure, I can't help but feel a sense of guilt. The thought of wasting my days in bed, eating, and binge-watching Netflix fills me with a sense of unease, I start to feel worthless. Yet, my brother Nick assures me that it's perfectly alright to feel this way. He justifies every moment of relaxation as a well-deserved reward for the 5 years of hard work I have put in.
And he is right, isn't he? I do need this break. I recognize that I need this, even though every fiber of my being is yearning to be back at work. My body has been giving me warning signs for the past five years. No matter how many vitamins, it only takes so much time till it wears off, and eventually, I feel weary and worn out. I often frequent nosebleeds, and there are times when I suffer from unexpected bouts of fever. It's ironic really, how I used to boast about never falling ill when I first started working. But now my work is what's making me ill.
But for now, I should try to embrace these moments at home and also my upcoming television debut, how fun for my brother, but for me, I am simply trying not to have any expectations. However, I do appreciate his efforts in making this time away from work more enjoyable. Yet, deep down, I still can't help but miss my work already.
"Hey, bro!" Nick annoyingly, as usual, slides into my room and plops down on the side of my bed while I'm in the midst of watching Netflix on my iPad. "Apparently, filming starts in just February," he says, holding up the contract to his face.
"Great, what on earth am I supposed to do?" I reply dismissively, trying to focus on the show I've been binge-watching for the past day. I pretend not to care too much about it, even though it's nearing February and this dating show is the reason I took a break from work for a whopping five years.
"Bro," he said, meeting my eyes with raised eyebrows and mouth slightly agape. He held up the contract for me to see.
I glanced over, still pretending disinterested between episodes. "What is it, Nick?"
he took a deep breath. "It's a contract...for The Bachelorette's Rose." He cupped his face in his hands, eyes gazing off as if in a daze.
"A what now?" I respond, furrowing my brows in confusion as I look at him, completely clueless. Now my curiosity was piqued despite my attempts to remain aloof.
"Ugh, dude, are you seriously part of this generation or are you an old person?" he retorts, slipping back into his bratty attitude. "That show is where contestants compete for the love of one person, typically a man in the case of 'The Bachelor's Bouquet' or a woman in your case of 'The Bachelorette's Rose.' It's a dating competition," he explains, his disappointment evident as he covers his face with his hands.
"Great job, Nick. Is this your idea of relaxation, turning my life into a competition? Thanks for the heads up," I said, letting out a sigh as I continued to watch my show. I tried to divert my attention away from my iPad, even though I couldn't help but feel a sense of worry creeping in. A competition? Now?
"Why didn't you read the contract first, man? This isn't how it was supposed to be it was supposed to be another contract dude," he replied, his face contorted with concern and disappointment evident in his voice.
"Do I really need to point out the obvious? I was exhausted, so I just signed it. I trusted my little brother to have read it for me already," I retorted, letting out a small sarcastic giggle. I successfully shifted the blame back to my brother, just as he always did to me.
"I was just too excited, and I thought it would be a surprise for both of us. Little did I know that you would be signing a contract with other men for competition," he teased, raising the contract once again, and waving it in front of my face.
Frustration washed over me. What did I expect from a dating show? I hadn't anticipated that it would turn into a competitive affair. In my mind, it was supposed to be a simple one-on-one café situation, a chance to meet interesting people on television. I suppose this is what's popular nowadays, though.
I continue to watch on my iPad, trying to dismiss the fact that my face will be spread across national TV for all to gawk at. I really was trying not to care about it, but at this point, I might as well pop my head out of the water.
"Hey, just put it down for a moment, iPad bro," he says, quickly snatching my iPad with just one brief warning.
"Great, soon enough, my face is the one that I'm watching. Thanks, Nick," I roll my eyes at him and glare angrily.
"I'm just simply looking out for you. You're about to get thrown into a pit of snakes, man!" he says with a mocking tone as he reads the script out loud. "Filming starts between February and May and ends on mid-June 12th, it may vary depending on the circumstances. Dude, that's almost three months of filming. Whoa," he turns to me with wide eyes as he continues to read. "Applicants will get an email before the filming, allowing us to individually screen all necessary applicants for the show."
"Thanks, Nick. I'm really looking forward to competing with other men for a spot on this show. It sounds like a blast," I reply sarcastically as I take in the details in my mind. Obviously, three months is a long time. I almost want to back out, but since my brother already submitted my details, I'm doomed to eventually give in.
"Look, bro, I know you're not one for contracts. That's why you haven't broadened your horizons when it comes to jobs, dude. This is why I'm telling you, this show could change your life!" He says, turning to another page. "Dude, did you even read the terms and conditions? We are not responsible for any STDs or diseases that may occur while on the show," he says with a humorous tone, almost laughing at my recklessness. I damned myself, didn't I?
"That's when you know the show will be fun, bro!" he nudges me on my shoulder while reading the contracts out loud.
"Fucking hell, Nick. I know, pipe it down. I might not get through the screening," I sighed. What the fuck did I just put myself into? There's no certainty here. This could be a long run.
"Look, this doesn't change anything, plus, these are just standard liability and precautionary warnings, bro. Don't take it too seriously," he says. I feel a bit of assurance, but at the end of the day, he's my little brother. What the hell does he know besides acting on impulse and being a brat?
"Let's see here—please be well-informed that our team has received your details and application. We ensure that your details are private. We look forward to screening you as one of the 25 Bachelors in the show. Once the applicant is successfully screened as one of the 25 Bachelors, you are expected to fulfill the filming, less or more depending on the circumstances of the participants. Once this contract is terminated, please see the legal and moral responsibility of terms, at," he says as he turns the page to the part explaining more details that I have a slim chance of getting picked and I can't fucking back down from the show. Just great.
"Just provide me details that can actually help me with the application and screening process already, Nick," I say, irritated and impatient by the circumstances. I'm trying to know more about my situation after filing for leave from work. While I might like being home instead, I filed for leave for this bloody show—and not being able to know if I'll pass the screening dreads me, I let out a sigh, disappointment lacing my words. "Nick, this is a long shot. You expect me to take a break from work when there's no guarantee that I'll make it through the show?" My hope dwindled, leaving me with a slim sense of optimism.
"Calm down, you signed the wrong contract remember?" he said, trying to reassure me and at the same damn time blaming the hell out of me. "You need to change your perspective, bro. Don't give up before the fight even begins. I wouldn't have put you through this if I didn't believe in you. We've got good genes and brains, trust me. Let me read you more details that might help."
As he turned to another page, my doubts lingered. I knew there was a chance I wouldn't get picked, and even if I did, 3 months is a long time to back down a contract full of countless legalities and responsibilities to face. But I couldn't let my negativity consume me. I had taken a leave from work for a reason.
With enthusiasm, he started reading aloud again. "The premise of this show is to compete for one Bachelorette. 'The Bachelorette's Rose' season 3 is Alayra Cooper, a 26-year-old entrepreneur and social media manager. We handpicked several hundred thousand applicants based on this Bachelorette's preferences and personal information. Now, we're in the process of screening the remaining thousand applicants. Expect an email in five days or so, which will provide you with the requirements and procedures for the screening."
"Seriously, there are still thousands of remaining applicants, Nick. Do you expect me to believe that I could be one of the 25 Bachelors? " I exclaimed, slapping my head with a sense of hopelessness and frustration.
"Stop, Are you even listening to yourself? The fact that you managed to surpass hundreds of thousands of applicants and make it to the final thousand means that you have the odds to be one of the 25 Bachelors, bro!" he says enthusiastically, grabbing my shoulder to try and make me see reason.
"A thousand applicants down to 25 spots? Those odds are basically 0.1%, Honestly. Nick," I scoff, though pleased I made it past the initial cut.
"Dude, no matter how slim the odds, it's still a chance. And I know you could be this girl's type—wasn't her name Alayra Cooper? We've got to search her up and do some research, man! This could be your opportunity," he insists, shaking my body with excitement. This boy is clearly going all in.
I sigh, still not fully recovered from the absurdity of it all. But no matter what, I've made up my mind to give this a shot. Nick is right - I've already got a foot in the door with a chance to be on this crazy show. "Fine then, hit me with the details."
Nick's eyes light up as he firmly grips my shoulders in enthusiasm. Eventually loosening his grip, he puts on a smug, know-it-all expression. "But I bet Alayra would appreciate a nice haircut from a true gentleman first, don't you think?" he smirks, looking at my long, unkempt locks. His bratty smile says it all.
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