"No, Alfred," Kiku said for the millionth time that night, "I told you to step out of the limo slowly. Slowly. Plant both of your feet on the ground and take slow steps forward so I can get a good shot of you."

Alfred relentlessly tugged at his tie, further displacing his attire. It wasn't his fault he wasn't used to the stiffness of a tuxedo, and these fancy shoes were highly uncomfortable to walk in! He was quite relieved to be told to sit back down on the limo seats, which seemed like the height of luxury. This must have cost more than just a pretty penny. "Sorry, Kiku! I just want to get things over with, ya know?" Nervous laughter bubbled up from his unusually tight chest.

He was the Bachelor. The Bachelor. Of the United States of America. He couldn't quite believe it. It had only been a few days ago when he had woken up on his family's farm in his home state of Kansas, familiar yellow sunlight bathing his bedroom and the smell of bacon wafting through the open door. It had been a regular, dusty, sweet Sunday, an unimportant day that would easily blend into the myriad of others, a haze of milkshakes with friends and long, leisurely jogs around the corn fields.

Until Kiku called.

Kiku had been in town a few months earlier for a movie he was filming. They had met at the local diner that Alfred worked at. He was a cameraman, or so he told Alfred, who was instantly taken by the small, dark haired man from the city with an out of place accent, and a refreshing sense of cool intellect.

Unfortunately for Kiku, the diner hadn't been busy, allowing Alfred to take a seat at his booth and begin a long winded speech about his favourite movies and heroes. The idea of talking to someone who worked with movies had him starstruck, and being starstruck made him nervous, which made him talk a lot. Kiku had nodded along with practiced patience before he said he had to go. He told Alfred that he would get in contact if a suitable role came up for a show or movie. Alfred went home and told his brother, Matthew, who said that he shouldn't be so excited, and that Kiku was probably just being nice. Famous people didn't just do that for country people.

Oh, it did feel good to be able to rub that one in Matthew's face when Alfred announced his new position as America's most suitable bachelor!

Apparently the guy they had already chosen had pulled out at the last minute, and the quickest replacement they could get hold of was Alfred. He had been pampered and fawned over and coddled for the last few days since the camera crew first arrived outside his door. He even had some makeup put on his face. Makeup! Granted, the head stylist, a nice man... or woman, Alfred wasn't quite sure, by the name of Feliks had told him that he didn't need much touching up. Feliks told him that the camera would, like, totally love him no matter what.

When they went around filming aspects of his daily life - swimming at the lake in the evenings, working at the diner, riding his horse around the farm - they had asked him to remove his shirt more than a few times, especially while he was horseriding. Something about relating to the female audience. Alfred hadn't understood what that was all about, but he complied anyway.

One plane ride later, and he was here.

"Okay, when you're ready, Alfred." A little click and the camera was recording again.

Alfred was shaking - he didn't know if it was purely nerves or even a splash of excitement, but it was sure making his head spin. He stepped out of the limo much slower this time, taking a moment to breath in the floral scented air and grow adjusted to the cool night air that made his lips tingle just a little. There were flowers everywhere. Jasmines crept up the sides of an arch that he had to walk under, with colourful garlands draped from every possible point, and the tan stone paving had scatters of what looked like rose petals. Alfred shut the car door softly behind him, not having much feeling left in his fingers, and blinked up at the fairy lights strung from the trees in awe.

Apart from the shifting of leaves and petals, there was silence. Then, a very quiet "Well done, Alfred. Now keep walking."

Alfred smiled to himself - he was doing it! He would be on TV! - and glanced up at the moon. It was brighter than all the fairy lights put together. It was a gorgeous night on a tragically beautiful property with promises of alcohol and laughter. And, it was also the night when he would meet the love of his life.

He didn't know who or what he expected to find. In all honesty, he had just jumped at the opportunity to be on TV. Love wasn't something that he thought about much. Then again, he hadn't had a girlfriend in over a year, and wasn't fond of one night stands. Maybe he had forgotten about what he was missing out on. Maybe he would find his other half.

He ducked through the arch, shoes treading quietly over the stone, and blinked in the new view of the house. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a bonfire shimmering away, and the grand doorway to the house that would soon hold twenty two women. It was a magnificent house that left Alfred tallying up the possible seven figure price in his head, a single story wooden mansion that looked cozy and even old fashioned compared to other works of modern architecture. But what really caught his eye was the man standing in front of it all, his golden hair and lily white skin set aglow by the lights, and his long, lean legs that were covered in the black fabric of his crisp suit. His figure was reflected in the fountain beside him.

Alfred nearly tripped and stumbled. He recognised the man. Arthur Kirkland. His face with those distinctive eyebrows had been on every TV channel at least once, most noticeably for political debates on Good Morning America, and of course to host the classic evening game shows. Hell, in the diner he worked at, the locals would crowd around the single flat screen TV just to hoot and holler at the game contestants every night. This man was a household name.

"How are you, Alfred?" Arthur said in that silky smooth voice of his, and this time Alfred did stumble a little. Trying to suppress a blush - a fruitless endeavour- Alfred stopped in front of the smaller blonde man, and Arthur immediately put a hand out to rest on Alfred's arm. He had to force himself to look up and away from the hand.

Alfred gave one of his best smiles. Kiku had told him to use it when he felt like he was treading in hot water. Now was one of those times. "I'm just peachy, and you?"

"Grand. Simply grand." Arthur scanned him up and down, the same friendly smile sitting on his face, the one he used when reading out questions for people to guess at, or even when the game contestants lost their chance at a jackpot. Alfred struggled to see if it was genuine or not. He had never been good at telling these things. The brief moment of distraction allowed for Alfred to look at him properly.

Arthur looked better in person. That wasn't to say he looked bad on TV - no, rather the opposite, it was part of why he was so highly sought after as a presenter. But up close, Alfred could see the way Arthur's nose was slightly upturned, and exactly how long his eyelashes were. He had the clearest skin Alfred had ever seen and these big, catlike eyes of cleanly cut jade.

"So, what are you looking for in your perfect woman tonight?" Alfred had to blink hard to snap out of his little exploration as those pink lips moved to form words. Alfred could answer this. Kiku made him rehearse his lines.

"Well," he began, looking up to the starry sky for a moment, "the first thing I notice is a smile. And then their laugh. I just want someone who shares a similar sense of humor, and for us to both be comfortable when talking to each other."

Arthur's little smile didn't waver. "Do you think you'll know when you find the one?"

Alfred nodded shyly. "You can feel it," he said, and realising he may have been a little vague, he pointed to his heart and added, "In here."

Arthur cast a quick glance over Alfred's shoulder, towards Kiku. "Well, the ladies are beginning to arrive, so you'll be able to test out your theory very soon. I wish you all the luck in the world." Arthur took a step back to clear the path to the house. "Not that you'll need it, with your looks and charm." Alfred blushed.

"Thank you," he brushed his bangs out of his eyes and fiddled with the cuffs of his tuxedo jacket. He had never been good with compliments. Especially coming from people like Arthur. "I can't wait to meet everyone. I mean, hopefully at least a couple of them like me back. Otherwise that'd get pretty awkward. Also, I've always stood by love at first sight, so hopefully that belief pays off tonight." Alfred laughed. He was rambling. He quickly shut up.

Arthur nodded with that openly neutral look on his face, and pat Alfred's arm - a gesture that subtly pushed him towards the house. Alfred took the hint and continued down the path, a new skip in his step. He wondered if Arthur would be just as nice to him off camera, since apparently celebrities tended to lead a double life, one for the cameras and one for reality. Surely that wouldn't be the case here. Arthur had been considerate, and even complimented him. Alfred was in good hands here.

Heck, that little interview wasn't so bad. Talking to Arthur, the popular TV presenter, was technically the hardest part of today, since all the girls would probably be just as equally nervous to meet him. Yeah, he had this.

Alfred stopped at the front of the house and leaned against the stair railing, looking appreciatively at the furniture on the deck. All of Alfred's stuff at home had pretty much been scratched up by his cat Hero (who also followed him to work some days, but that was kept secret from his boss), so seeing such plush leather couches and unblemished glass tables was new for him. Everything was just so... luxurious.

The sound of a slamming car door captured his attention, and his breath caught in his throat. There was another camera with a mystery cameraman trained on him. He felt nervous and confused and exhilarated and dizzy all at once. Now he was well and truly alone on his quest to find love.

A tall woman emerged from behind the plumes of flowery bushes. Chocolate brown hair curled down the plane of her back, left exposed by the scoop in the back of her rather elegant black dress, styled with a sweetheart neckline and a deep slit running up the side of the dress. One of her tanned legs were visible as she walked. Kitten heels click clacked, and she slowly tucked away a face framing curl behind her ear.

Alfred's heart was caught in his throat. She was gorgeous and classy, with minimal makeup and a posture screaming inner confidence. He realised that he needed to speak to her to break the ice. But what does one say to a pretty woman? "You look beautiful," he managed with a smile, wondering if she could hear his pounding heartbeat.

The woman stopped and blinked at him a few times with owlish green eyes, and Alfred began to wonder if he had been too straightforward. But then she laughed and leaned forward, using Alfred's arm for support. Her hands were soft but surprisingly strong. "Oh, thank goodness," she gasped with a shake of her head. "You have no idea what hell I went through with the stylist to look like this. I haven't even seen myself in the mirror since they finished with me. I was so tempted to wear my usual riding boots here, but they looked like they might have a heart attack, so I ended up wearing these noisy things instead." She tapped her heels together like Dorothy from The Wizard Of Oz.

"You ride?" Alfred's smile grew impossibly wide. Already she seemed like his dream gal. "Same! I grew up with my mare on my family's farm in Kansas. Me and my brother Mattie love to race each other." Oops, was he supposed to blurt out basically his whole life story to the first girl he met? Too late to change anything now.

The girl didn't seem to mind, as her grin turned toothy. "Kansas, huh? I'm from Texas, and believe it or not, I had never left the state until now."

"Well, you're basically in your own little country there, anyway," Alfred winked. "Can't blame ya." The camera guy signalled to him. He needed to speed things up. "I'll definitely come and talk to you later, Miss...?"

"Elizabeta," she released Alfred's arm, a darling smile on her lips. "But everyone just calls me Eliza. Shorter names will be easier to remember with so many girls coming tonight, am I right?"

Alfred looked away bashfully. "Maybe," he shrugged, "But I'll definitely remember yours. You're the first girl I've talked to tonight, which automatically makes you one of my favourites."

"I'm honoured, Mister...?"

Oh! He hadn't even given his own name yet! "Alfred F. Jones at your service!" he announced with a little salute. Eliza giggled. "I'll find you later, alright?"

Eliza began to head towards the entrance to the house. Alfred watched how her dress seemed to flow seamlessly over the stairs, like liquid silk. "Don't make promises that you can't keep, Alfred," she warned. Alfred would have gotten a little upset if her tone didn't have that playful edge to soften her words. "We'll see what happens. Best of luck, my dear!" And with that, she disappeared through the door and out of sight. Alfred sighed, a content smile playing on his face.

He felt giddy. Was that a good sign? He genuinely did want to keep talking with Eliza - although their time was short, she could carry a conversation and seemed really down to earth. Alfred liked that a lot. Hopefully she liked him back. And she would see that Alfred really could keep his promises when he came to get her back again during the cocktail party.

There were a few other girls that really stood out to him. One of them had crazy silver hair and Alfred was left wondering if she had already started drinking before the party was due to begin. She had greeted him with some 'special' homemade brownies that Alfred had to accept with a smile, despite the strong suspicion that he was indeed handling drugs. Jules was her preferred name.

And then there was the Ice Queen.

Alfred had a feeling that she would be popular with the fans. And this was without ever watching a single episode of the show he was now part of.

She looked like something ripped from the pages of a fairytale. Countless sheets of impossibly sheer and glittering blue fabric were spilling out from around her waist, artfully finishing at different lengths. The dress crept up and around one her shoulders with a sparkly garnish. Everything was pale, pale blue, to match her eyes, surrounded by blends of purple eye shadow. Stark blonde hair was tamed and twisted into a voluptuous and intricate looking plait. She could have been prom queen.

Alfred grinned. "Hello there, Elsa. Is Anna here too?" All the other girls had donned what he guessed would be considered timeless attire, basic and solid colours of black, red and white. This girl was special.

She narrowed her icy blue eyes in a way that sent chilled butterflies spiraling through Alfred's gut. "Hello there." Oh, lord, she even had an accent! Russian, perhaps. How fitting. "You may call me Natalya."

"Natalya," Alfred beamed. "I'm Alfred."

"Alfred," she tested. It sounded funny when she said it. Her eyes ran over him, and Alfred tried to stay still as she scrutinised him. "Yes, I think you'll do. My brother will approve of you." She sounded pleased.

Alfred raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Close with your family, are ya? So am I."

"You have no idea," she murmured, and before Alfred could ask more she began to walk past him towards the house, not without brushing her arm against Alfred's. The man sucked in a sharp breath. "I shall seek you out later. You must accept. Goodbye for now, Alfred."

Alfred sent a bewildered look towards the cameraman, who shrugged uselessly back at him. Well, she was something.

Some of the women did tricks for him, or tried to surprise him with gifts or talents. One even ballroom danced with him, which threw him in for a spin. Alfred appreciated the effort, but really, he didn't want these women to think they had to go out of their way to impress him. He wasn't some kind of judge at show pony event, although he knew it must have looked that way. He just wanted to talk normally without these women feeling the need to put on an act to stand out. It must have looked great for the cameras though.

He lost track of the time for a while. It was all a blaze of perfume, perfectly made up faces, expensive dresses, and... um, a lot of cleavage on display. The strangest part about the whole experience was that all the girls seemed to like him! They didn't think he was annoying or loud or stupid like his brother did. Some of them touched his hair, and one with a particularly low neckline even asked if they could have their later conversation in one of the bedrooms, for more privacy, she said. Alfred had to decline - it would be unfair to all the other girls - and he still didn't understand why the cameraman facepalmed after she left. She was just being friendly, after all. He was starting to think that coming on the show had been one of the best decisions of his life.

Of course, he had only just met everyone, and had no idea about the sparkly, perfumed shitstorm that was heading his way.

Hi! I just have a couple of things to say:

This will not be following the typical Bachelor show storyline - otherwise my chapters would be far too long! What I mean by that is, I'm going to skip out on some of the frilly speechy details that happens in the actual show, just to get to the good stuff.

Secondly, thanks for reading and please let me know if there's anything I can change. I've never portrayed Alfred as a more goofy, innocent character before, I've always had him as pretty chill and witty, so this is fun. Also, I don't really think my writing has improved all that much over the last few months, so any advice will be considered and appreciated :) thank you!