Rory lay in her bed studing the cottage cheese looking ceiling. She was unsure what had transpired in the "dorm" hall outside. She glanced over at the camera that was set up less than subtly in the corner of her room. They producers had curtly told her she could change in the bathroom, they didn't want any of that on camera, but she could talk and explain her feelings to the camera by sitting in a chair marked with red tape.

Five more girls had been cut, leaving a grand total of five girls remaning. The cutting was slower in shows like the bachelor where the show dragged on for months, but because this show was new, they were testing out a small season before investing a lot of air time to it.

Rory had been surprised to make final five. What should couldn't decide was whether she was pleasently surprised or not. She was most surprised when the prettier girls were cut without a blink. She had been kept, Diane had been kept, Michelle had been kept, Clara had been kept, and Krystyl had been kept.

Mentally she surveyed the girls. Diane, a four-alarm siren. Michelle the leggy ballet dancer, Clara the smoldering latina dancer, Krystyl the swimsuit model with a clever wit, and...her. Rory couldn't figure out for the life of her where she belonged in this group. She was bad-postured book worm who got accepted into Yale and Harvard. Tristan knew this. He knew she would never...put out the way that the other girls did. She didn't look half as good in a bathing suits. Her warm white skin compared to their beach tans, her flat hair compared to their sensuously bodied tresses. Even the way they talked was much more enticing.

And that's all that Tristan wants anyway!

Tristan flopped on the bed and closed his eyes. He had a meeting with Biff before he could drift off the la-la land. Biff was taking his time ambling up the stairs.

There was a knock.

"C'mon in Biff."

Biff entered with a bright grin. "It's going pretty good. I was surprised how well you can carry yourself as the jerk. I can only imagine you in high school!"

Tristan didn't reply.

"So, I talked to the producers and they decided that we have to spice up this show. See, Rory and Clara are already seeing the jerk-ness, we have to make them fall deeply and madly in love with you to keep up ratings."

Tristan rose an eyebrow. "I take it this won't be on camera."

"You'll take each off on an individual date and you will be yourself. Your sweet golden-boy self. Not a single fiber or jerkness must come out. You can kiss each good night if you see it fit. Then the next day the switch comes back!"

Tristan frowned slightly. "That's sort of cruel."

"Viewers will love it."

"That doesn't change much."

"So tomorrow is Krystyl, then Diane, then Rory, then Clara, then Michelle." Biff's grin broadened. "Do you have your eye on any of them? Diane right? Dude, not a man who watches this show won't want to take your place when you take Diane out."

"I like Mary."

"Mary?"

"Rory."

Biff frowned. "Why do you keep calling her Mary? Don't get her name wrong it confuses the audiences. Yeah, I was expecting you to cut her first round. I must say she's a favorite with the beta audiences. They like her spunk and the fact that she's already completely disgusted with you."

"Is she?"

"Yeah, her interviews are crazy." He grinned. "But you can't know that now can you? I guess she got a vibe from the moment she met you because she doesn't like you at all. Try and turn that around during the one on one date."

Tristan knitted his brows. "You overglorify my powers of seduction, I'm not that good."

Biff smirked a smirk Tristan recognized immidiatly. "You and I both know that's a lie."

Rory lay beside the pool. Without even thinking about it, Rory knew that she was trying to compete tan wise when she flopped next to the water and let the sun beat down on her. She looked over where Diane was listening to her Ipod and reading Cosmo. The inferiority was stifling. She felt like she was at a beauty pagent with Summer and Louise, bound to lose.

Her skin was a glaring white. She knew it. It was her Mom's fault, darn gene pool. And her eyes were blue too, fair skin and blue eyes were a constant partner. It would have been fine if she'd been a blonde. Like Diane.

Krystyl was gone on her date. Tristan had this sweet smile when they'd left, but he'd turned and flashed her an amazingly sweet one. His clothes had been tasteful, but not his usual "damn-look-at-me-I'm-a-big-shot" richness.

What does this two faced son-of-a-rich-man want now?

Short Chappie. R/R, after my AP testing week the first week of May I'll be updatin' like crazee. Review and remind me I have a story!