A/N- I would have had this up SOONER if I had been actually allowed to freaking LOG IN. Sorry, I'm still a little peeved about it...but anyway...I'm so glad you liked this story. I was a little apprehensive about it, to tell you the truth. Okay, I'll stop yapping. READ!

Chapter 2: Handbooks are for Losers

Mia's POV

I was boarding the plane with Grandmère and Andrew for Genovia three months later. We had informed Dad about our plans, and needless to say, he was rather disgruntled, but said if I had approved of it, then he would too. I was happy that he trusted my judgment, but I realized then that I could have said no and he would have backed me up.

I sighed as I looked at the swirling mist of clouds outside the window. Too late now.

I accepted the glass of water the flight attendant handed to me and continued to think. What kind of guys did they put on the show? No doubt that they'd be hot, but what would they be like? What if all they ate was meat? What if they were loggers? What if they breathed through their mouths?

It made me shudder just thinking about it.

I should have put a clause in contract. Something like, "None of the male competitors may have jobs that are harmful to the environment." But that would seriously narrow it down and they might not find a suitable cast for years.

I could always eliminate the guys who did have jobs harmful to my humanitarian interests. I'd gotten rid of the clause saying that the director, producer, and Grandmère could interfere in my decision.

Temporarily satisfied and really anxious, I pulled a book out of my bag and sank into the paradise that was my wild imagination.

Several hours later, the flight attendant walked up to me and gently tapped me on the shoulder saying, "Your highness? We will be landing in approximately twenty minutes."

I smiled at her and said, "Thank you."

She nodded and walked off to the cockpit.

I closed my book and put it away, carefully brushing off my outfit and running my fingers through my hair. I had learned the hard way how important proper grooming was after a long plane ride. The media are known to pop up everywhere, and one picture of a groggy looking princess is enough to have your approval rating go down by five percent. Sad, but true.

"Amelia," Grandmère called to me from the other side of the plane. "Please, groom yourself in the bathroom. That's what it's for."

"I can't, we're about to land," I replied as I inwardly rolled my eyes. For the next month and a half she'd be out of my hair. I made sure of that in the contract.

Michael's POV

"Here, Michael. This is your plane ticket and your orientation pamphlet. You'll be at the filming site approximately a month and a half, so pack accordingly."

I was in Carter's office. He was running me through the itinerary, telling me what time we were leaving tomorrow and plans for the first day. That night I was going to meet the girl and I was supposed to dress formally for the occasion. Not tuxedo dressy, just nice. For elimination rounds, I had to wear a tuxedo, which is why they took my measurements. I was also given an etiquette handbook. I was supposed to know it cover to cover before arriving at filming site.

Having dated Mia for three years and being her escort for several fancy events, I knew my etiquette, though I might be little rusty. I didn't need a handbook. "What do I need this for?"

Carter just gave me this funny little, I-know-something-you-don't-know smile and said, "You'll see when you meet the girl."

I turned to leave with my orientation pamphlet, but I left the handbook on the desk. "Michael, you forgot this. You'll need it." He said as he held it out.

"No, I won't." I assured him and walked out of the room.

I nodded to the blonde guy sitting in the waiting room reading an old issue of Seventeen. "You're next, dude," I told him as I walked out.

The next day, I got to the JFK airport and checked in my baggage. When I found the gate, I was surprised to see that they were already boarding. I slung my backpack over my shoulder, pulled out my boarding pass and joined the end of the line.

The blonde flight attendant gave me a cheeky little wink as she handed back my boarding pass. "Have a good flight, sir."

"Thanks," I smiled back and walked through the little tunnel leading the entrance of the airplane.

I looked down to see my seat number for the first time. I was pleasantly surprised when I found out it was first class. Finding my seat, I plopped down and stuffed my backpack underneath the seat in front of me. Sitting next to me was the same blonde guy I had seen at Carter's office. He gave me a blindingly white smile and said, "You here for the reality show?"

I nodded and held out my hand. "Hi. My name's Michael."

He took my hand and replied, "Dennis. These people don't really hold back, do they?"

I shook my head. "No, they don't."

"And all we had to pay was our livelihoods." He quipped.

I grinned back. I was beginning to like this guy.

"So what room number do you have?"

"Five thirteen. You?"

"Five thirteen."

"Awesome."

We chatted a little while about our friends and our families, where we went to college and such. The camaraderie was easy, but I felt a tight undertone to it. Like we were comparing ourselves to each other, and frankly it was a little unnerving.

"So what do you think she's gonna be like?" He asked.

I thought about it for a moment, then answered, "Well, she'd have to be pretty, otherwise they wouldn't let her on TV."

"Did they tell you kind of show this is?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, think about it. Shows can't just be The Bachelorette anymore, they always have to have funky twists that the competitors don't know about until the last second. What do you think the twist is here?"

"I don't know."

Mia's POV

Upon arrival Grandmère and I were immediately greeted by Lars and Francois.

After we had been escorted into the limo, Grandmère continued to hound me for a little while about some of my more annoying habits. I patiently listened to her nagging. "Yes, Grandmère, I promise I won't rant about animal rights."

"And…?"

"And the evils of the meat industry." I paused. "But that doesn't mean that I'll eat any foie gras."

Grandmère sighed and threw her hands up in the air. "You are hopeless Amelia."

When we got the palace, the cameras were already set up. Dan and Lori Turner, the director, swept me up and led me to my chamber, in which Paolo was waiting for me.

"Ah! Princess, I will make you look beautiful!"

He'd been saying that for seven years and it had yet to be true.

Sebastiano had designed all the clothes I would be wearing for the show. I was to be wearing a Sebastiano design at all times, even at night. It helped that he designed nightclothes too, but it didn't make me feel too comfortable.

Julia, my personal assistant had laid out my clothes after Paolo was finished with my hair and my face. After getting camera ready, I was to do an individual interview, then they wanted a few shots of me walking around the palace.

I sighed inwardly. This was gonna be a long day.

Michael's POV

Dennis and I made our way to the baggage claim. After getting our luggage, we were met by a large, bald man in an expensive Armani suit. He was holding a sign that said "Michael Moscovitz and Dennis Leedy".

We followed him to at bright gold Suburban. He courteously loaded our luggage in the back and said in a sophisticated British accent, "Please sirs, do enjoy yourselves."

Dennis and I grinned to each other as we settled into the supple leather seats. This was really nice.

After fifteen minutes of driving, the driver said "Boys, do you happen to know what the show is called?"

Dennis nodded. "Yeah. Carter said something like, Crown Jewels."

"Does that give you a hint about anything?"

We shook our heads, still puzzled.

The man just gave a haughty chuckle and said, "Perhaps it will make sense when you meet the young woman."

We reached the shooting site and let me tell you, the place was seriously nice. The producers weren't sparing any expense for this show. Not at all.

We got our luggage, and were told to unpack as soon as possible because at three o'clock we were to file downstairs for our individual interviews. Dennis and I nodded and raced up the beautiful spiral, marble staircase. In the back of my mind, though, I couldn't help thinking that this place seemed familiar. Like I had seen pictures of this staircase before.

I shook the thought out of my mind and quickly reached the room. The butler, Charles, was his name, handed me and Dennis each a key that opened our room.

When we opened the door, we collectively gasped. Two queen sized beds, a fully stocked mini fridge, a TV with a VCR and DVD player and a bathroom with my favorite shampoo, a shower and a bathtub.

Dennis threw his bag on the bed closest to him and threw himself next to it. "This place is the life!"

We finished packing and got downstairs for the interviews. Dennis and I talked while we waited for our turns. When it was his turn, I managed to look around and examine my competition. They were all what society would consider attractive, but as for personality, I had no idea.

"Michael, you're up." Lori, the director, announced and led me into the parlor. She handed me a small, clip-on microphone which I pinned to the top of my T-shirt.

I sat down and faced the camera. She stood behind the man maneuvering the camera. "So, Michael, you live in New York. How do you like it there?"

"Uh, well I like it a lot. There's always something to do and I don't get really bored."

"Do you have any talents that are worth mentioning?"

"Um…I can play several instruments, and I have a band with several of my college buddies."

"What college did you go to?"

"I got my masters in computer programming at Columbia."

She let out a low whistle. "Ivy League school, huh? That's pretty good, considering some of the other half-wits your up against." She gave a grimace. "However, as the director, I'm not supposed to be biased."

I laughed.

"So is it true that you haven't been on a date in five years?"

"Yeah, I haven't really been motivated to go out. My sister signed me up for this."

"Did you read your etiquette guide?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't need it."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Trust me, I know my etiquette."

A glimmer of recognition crossed her face. "You're the guy that left his handbook at Carter's office, aren't you?"

I nodded.

She smiled and said, "He told me to watch out for you. Said that you were a real hot shot and bet me twenty dollars that you'd be one of the final five."

I was really starting to like this spunky girl. "Do you think I stand a chance?"

She gave me a mischievous little smile and said, "Well considering the guys you're up against…"

"But what about the girl?"

"She's a very nice girl. And I think you stand a very good chance too."

I was practically bursting with curiosity. Who was she? And why did the crew think they had to keep some weird, enigmatic cloud around her?

Mia's POV

I sat down, in front of the camera, all ready to go and yawning a little. I hadn't slept in the past twenty-four hours, but I doubt I would have been able to if I tried.

"So Mia, when did you find out you were a princess?"

"I found out my freshman year of high school. It's not really pleasant, you know? Thinking that for fourteen years your just this normal girl when all of a sudden, your dad says that he runs a country for a living, so…"

Lori laughed. "And what do you look for in a royal escort?"

I shrugged. "I don't really find my own escorts. Grandmère covers that for me."

"What is required of a royal escort?"

"He has to have really good and refined social skills. He has to have perfect etiquette, and he can't mind being absolutely walked over. I don't know if I'll be able to find a guy like that, though," I added ruefully. "Not many men are willing to even meet my grandmother."

"Do you think that you'll find your perfect escort here?"

I thought about that carefully. "Well, I don't know. I certainly hope so, but I'm not getting my hopes too high, just in case I get disappointed."

Michael's POV

I took my tuxedo and carefully hung it in the closet next to Dennis'. I pulled on a white button down shirt and pulled a dark green sweater over it. I pulled on my lucky jeans and black and red high-top Converse. I grabbed my light brown corduroy blazer and slipped it on.

Dennis looked over at me and smirked. "Don't you think that's a little bit informal?"

I looked at myself in the mirror and shook my head. "No, not really."

He shrugged and continued to tug on the silver tie around his neck. He looked very business like in a royal blue button down shirt, silver tie, and black dress trousers. His shoes were so shiny I could see my reflection. "You look like my dad."

He laughed as he ran a comb through shining gold hair. "Hey, at least I don't look like something they dragged off the street."

I grimaced at him as I combed my own ebony locks. "I look fine. If I do say so myself, I think I look way more stylish than you do."

He smirked again and quipped, "We'll see when she chooses me over you."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the annoying thumping of my heart. "Yeah, yeah."

Mia's POV

I glanced around nervously. I was supposed to meet the guys each individually as they walked out to meet me. Since freshman year, I had grown breasts, very slightly, but at least I was a B cup now. So I filled the dress I was wearing very nicely. And Sebastiano had seriously outdone himself with this dress. It had two layers: the under layer was made of red silk and the upper layer was made of this float-y, transparent light pink material. It was being held up by two thin red spaghetti straps and the bottom layer flared out at my knees. The top layer flared out two inches above. I was wearing strappy red sandals, and my hair was curled and reached just below my shoulders. I was wearing a pendant with the Genovian Crest on a delicate white gold chain around my neck with a matching white gold chain around my wrist.

I adjusted my microphone carefully, making sure that it was secure. Lori placed me in the gardens in one of the larger gazebos. In front of me was one of those double-sided staircases. There were three cameras surrounding me, and though they weren't filming, I still felt my knees go weak.

"Ready, Princess?" Lori called out to me. She gave me a wink and a thumbs up.

I nodded, unwilling to open my mouth for fear of what might come out.

"All right! Places people! Lights!" She cried as the over head lights that had been installed two weeks ago suddenly blared. I lifted my hand to shield my eyes.

"Camera!" She called as the little red lights on the cameras simultaneously lit underneath the menacing lenses.

"Action!"

Immediately Robert Samson, the host for the show, came up to me and bowed. "Your highness." He said smoothly as he took my hand and kissed it.

"Hello, Robert," I said in a voice as controlled as I could make it.

"Tonight, you will meet the twenty men that will compete for your heart. They have not yet been informed of your royal status, but will after you meet them." He gave me a made-for-the-camera-smile. "Good luck."

I smiled back at him and he walked out of the gazebo.

My heart began thumping wildly as the first man came down the left side of the staircase to meet me. He was a beautiful specimen, with light brown eyes and matching, wavy hair. "Hello," I greeted him with a forced smile. "I'm Mia."

He smiled back. "Tom." He gave me a hug, and I awkwardly hugged him back.

"It's nice to meet you." I said in my most gracious manner.

"It'll be great to get to know you." He countered. And with one last grin, he walked out of the gazebo, up the right side of the staircase and back into the palace.

The same thing happened with the next eighteen guys. After him was Liam, Ben, Anthony, Scott, Justin, Mark, Vincent, Patrick, Trevor, Nick, Ryan, Chris, Victor, David, Dennis, Jeff, Eric, and Alex.

My feet were starting to ache when Lori called out, "Okay, last guy!"

Thank God. I was starting to think that nap on the plane was a good idea.

I squinted as I saw the approaching figure. He wasn't dressed like the other guys. He was dressed in layers with a white button down shirt, a green sweater, and a corduroy blazer with a pair of scruffy looking jeans and beaten up Converse. He had a familiar walk…and familiar hair…and familiar eyes…and a familiar smile…

Wait…

Holy crap.

A/N- Hehehehe, review!