Tasty Macaroons & Musical Tastes

The girls spent the rest of the week getting better acquainted with each other and settling into their new home. It was a charming little guest house with three large bedrooms that each held two bunk beds for the girls. One of Maka's roommates was the yoga instructor, Jenna, she had met the first night, and the other was Meredith. They were both sweet, down-to-earth women - more so Jenna than Meredith, who had a nasty bite in her voice even when she said anything remotely nice. They both had high chances of winning the competition, though. It all depended who Soul fell for, if anyone.

They were also allowed to explore the property which turned out to be exactly what she expected: a farm.

Large rolling green pastures went on in either direction, luscious rows of bright yellow sunflowers, and animals grazing along the tall grass in the distance. Maka was definitely far from home. A thicket of trees surrounding the property replaced the tall buildings she knew so well. Cows, chickens, and horses took the place of loud pedestrians below her apartment window. A warm, honeyed smell in the air that reminded her of fresh baked apple pies and sipping sweet tea on the boardwalk in summer cleared the smog from her mind.

A city girl like her could get used to this.

Soul and Marie showed up at their front door around midday at the start of the second week to announce their first challenge. Custom to the show, challenges were how girls battled against each other to have one-on-one time with the bachelor and up their chances of winning. Usually it was something simple such as a scavenger hunt, but other times they were designed to embarrass the girls like mud wrestling.

Lucky for Maka and the girls, though, their challenge was a soccer match.

On a field opposite the farm where there were no animals to interrupt them, the women were split up into two uneven teams of four against five. Faint white lines had been painted on the grass to mark the different sides, and they stood on opposite ends of the makeshift soccer field. They all wore black shorts, tennis shoes, and either a bright orange or yellow tank top to separate the two teams. Glancing over the women across from her, Maka noted that they all had their game faces on. Each of them were determined to be the winner of the group date with the bachelor so as to double their chances of winning his heart.

But, little did they know, she was ready to win as well.

It wasn't so much to woe Soul or to break through his defenses, though. She had her own personal agenda to win. Part of that was because she was a naturally competitive person in general, and another part was because she was curious to know why Soul wanted her to stay. He had been rude and arrogant to her while she had been equally mean to him. Throwing a drink on someone usually resulted in an elimination from any sane man, but Soul had given her a rose.

Of course, there was always the chance she would be booted off the show that week or the next, but still. It didn't make sense why Soul had chosen her over the other girl whom she was positive was nicer to him than herself. So why did he want her to stay?

A race gun shot off in the distance warning the girls to begin, and Maka immediately hit the dirt running. Green eyes remained trained on the ball as it was passed between players on the opposite team until she found her chance to steal it. Sprinting faster, she ran between the girl who had the ball and the one she was passing it to and diverted its path toward the opposite goal. She sensed the two girls hot on her trail as well as other players. Quickly glancing around her, she saw that there was only one other girl who was on her team keeping pace with her. However, there wasn't an opening for her to pass the ball to her.

There was only thing for her to do: distract the others.

Maka was quick on her feet as she made to pass the ball to her teammate only to stop it from going even inches away from her and turning its path in the opposite direction. The other girls fell for her rouse as they went left at the same time Maka went right. Her teammate was the only one who hadn't fallen for the trick which gave her the perfect opportunity to pass the ball to her. She kept her gaze on the other girl as she controlled the ball down the field toward the goal - being sure none of the others tried to steal it.

Her teammate with the ball had a clear line of shot to get the first goal of the game. Maka watched as the black and white ball zoomed into the air, curving as it came back to the ground, and flew over the goalies shoulder who had jumped in the opposite direction to catch it. The girls on Maka's team cheered as they gained the first point of the game and clapped the goalmaker on the back before starting another round.

They ended up winning six to four thanks to a couple of the players on the team having been previous soccer players - including Maka. She had been on her college's soccer team which was how she had been able to pay for college all those years and save up to live on her own afterward. Her skills that she learned then had proven to be useful for the show, a fact she never would have guessed.

The girls celebrated that night with drinks in the kitchen of the guest house. Maka felt her prejudiced views from the beginning start to disappear into thin air as she grew closer to the bachelorettes she was meant to be competing against. They weren't superficial Barbie dolls from California, but rather homely girls who had the best intentions for everyone. None of them seemed ready to claw another girl's eyes out in order to bring herself up in the competition of winning Soul's heart.

Everyone brought each other up rather than dragged them down, and Maka was grateful for it.

Mid-way through the celebration, Maka entered the room off to the side that had a sign above it in block letters that spelled out 'CONFESSIONAL'. She closed the door behind her and sat down on the stool that was provided for them in front of a green screen. There was a camera sitting on a tripod in front of her, a studio light shining on her behind it, and black curtains draped on the wall that weren't in shot. Before clicking the camera on, she adjusted her hair so that she didn't look so wild from the soccer match.

A few pieces of blonde stuck out of her ponytail and there were specks of dirt dusting her hair from what she saw in the reflection of the camera screen. There was even a streak of mud across her cheek from when she had slid on the ground to stop the ball at one point. Her uniform also looked like it belonged in a Tide commercial. Grass stains and mud stained the shirt the show had provided her, but she still smiled at her appearance.

She wasn't camera ready or glamified. She didn't feel like someone she was pretending to be, either. She felt like Maka Albarn.

Clicking the camera on, she began her little confession.

"Not gonna lie, but I did have my own views of the girls before coming onto this competition. I had watched the show at home and always thought how ridiculous some of them were and how idiotic it was to see how far they'd go to win a man's attention. The show itself was a good laugh, though." She waved her hands in front of her in an apology. "No offense."

Pausing, she licked her lips.

"But after getting to know the other girls today, I don't think that anymore. Maybe it's the slight buzz from the wine, but they're all so sweet and down to earth, and I think they all have a good chance of winning. Even if I do think Soul still doesn't deserve a single one of them, and they all can do so much better."

Maka blinked a few times as she stared at the beeping red light on top. Her body felt lighter from the amount of wine she had drank at the party, and her head slightly buzzed as well. She needed to eat some bacon or oatmeal in the morning to cure the hangover she was bound to have.

"That's all I have to say," she shrugged.

Leaning forward, she clicked the camera off and left the confession room to go to bed. Luckily she didn't need to eat anything special for a hangover the next day because there wasn't one. Liz had always said she was one of the lucky ones who got buzzed on alcohol, but knew her limit so as to prevent one from happening.

She ate a quick breakfast before getting dressed and ready for her date later that day.

They rode in the limousine as it drove away from the property and into town to a five-star spa. The entire day was spent with well-trained masseuses, tranquil music, and complimentary alcoholic beverages. It was nice to have girls time that mostly dealt with talking amongst themselves about the most mundane things and giggling about the dumbest things. It was a comfortable and inviting situation for Maka. She felt like she was back home with Tsubaki and Liz during one of their many and much needed girl nights. None of the other women were malicious like she had originally believed, and it was nice to know that.

Of course, it would have been better had the cameras not been there watching their every move and trying to catch any hints of potential bait for future cat fights. That may have prevented her from opening too much around the others about her personal life as well. While she did like having time to be herself, the gentle reminder of cameras being shoved in her face left a sickening feeling in her stomach that made the wine and champagne more tempting.

It was hard being herself when every little move was being taped.

However, none of it seemed to bother Soul in the slightest.

He was at the spa as well, but he mostly sat on one of the massage chairs with his arms crossed, a pouty face, and not associating with anyone. The spa employees attempted to persuade him into a massage, but he only responded with light grunts and noncommittal shrugs. Even when Marie had walked over to him with a slightly mad gleam in her gaze as she chided him to be more social with the girls, he only responded by slouching more in his chair and grumbling something under his breath.

In past seasons of The Bachelor, the man had always participated in the activities with the bachelorettes until it was time for their one-on-ones. They usually loved it when the women threw themselves all over him and adored the attention. But Soul was the complete opposite; he was as sociable and approachable as an irritable badger.

Maka had forgotten he was even there until Marie announced that the one-on-ones with him would be commencing soon.

She anxiously waited for her turn to speak to Soul. It was weird, though. At first she hadn't wanted to come onto the show. The only reason she was there was because Liz had pushed her to - bribed her with the promise of covering her teaching duties to the best of her ability while she was away if she did. Now, though, she wanted to be in the competition. Not for finding love, exactly, but more so for her own burning curiosity to know why Soul had given her a rose rather than a boot back home.

Her turn finally arrived, and she followed one of the crew members to a back room where Soul was waiting.

The room itself was set up differently compared to their first exchange. White curtains were draped along the walls with one corner of the room saved for a running waterfall and tranquil, soothing music played through the speakers. It had probably been one of the spa rooms, but everything had been cleared out for the show.

In place of the massage beds, there was a single eggshell table set up in the middle of the room. On top of it sat a cupcake holder with different sweets on it, two tea cups, and pastel napkins with swirls in the corner. The colors blended with each other to give off a nice setting as if she were having tea with the queen minus the corgis.

In place of the queen herself, was Soul who looked completely out of place in his cowboy getup, and Maka giggled internally at the sight of him.

"Hi again," she smiled as she sat down in front of him. She was still a little apprehensive about speaking to him again, but was also more relaxed thanks to the day at the spa. Soul leaned back in his chair and nodded in response.

They sat in silence until one of the ladies came to fill Maka's cup with tea.

Water trickling down from the waterfall, the music from the speakers, and the occasional coughs from the camera people were the only sounds that filled the quiet. Maka studied Soul and noted that his demeanor wasn't very welcoming. He scowled at her with a permanent wrinkle between his brows and arms crossed in front of his chest. Wasn't a very lively man even when he was supposed to be. She silently wondered to herself why he had even come on a show like this if he wasn't going to be interactive with the women he was meant to fall in love with.

A small sigh left her lips as she picked her cup up to take a sip before setting it back down.

"So, are you having fun?" she asked.

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a slight smirk. "Honestly?" She nodded. "No, not really. Watching girls get pampered isn't really my thing."

"Then why don't you join us?"

"Being touched by strangers isn't my thing either."

She smiled. "You don't really seem like a spa kind of man."

"What kinda man do you think I am?" There was a playful tone surrounding his voice, and his carmine eyes twinkled with merriment.

Maka's smile faltered slightly. She really wasn't quite sure what kind of man he was exactly. He had been nice when she first met him, but then later that first night had been rude and arrogant towards her. Even now sitting in front of him it felt like a whole different Soul. Their conversation felt more light-hearted; not at all hostile like before. He had pissed her off with her behavior, but also amazed her by giving her the final rose.

It was all really confusing. Who was the real Soul?

"I'm not sure," she said. She slid back in her chair and gauged him. "One minute you're talking to me civilly, the next you're acting like I killed you in another life, and then you're back to the first. Which are you: nice or arrogant asshole?"

That caught him off guard.

Soul's eyes bulged a bit before going back to normal. Throwing a quick look at the cameras, he leaned forward on the table and picked at one of the pink macarons in the middle.

"These things are stupid," he commented.

Her head tilted in confusion. She stared at him, the macarons, and back to him. "Huh?"

"Pretty packaging, but they aren't that good," he simply stated.

She glanced over the sweet holder again. Sure they were pretty and made her feel like a princess when she ate them, but they were actually quite delicious. Each one held a different fresh flavor in the middle like hand picked strawberries straight off the vine surrounded by cream and sat between two flaky cookies to give it a crunch. They weren't false advertising, though. They were tasty sweets that she liked to have with coffee and a good book on Sunday mornings.

"I think macarons are good, actually." Leaning on the table as well, she said, "Are you seriously trying to change the subject? Because I'm not gonna let go of the fact that you were an asshole to me the other night and now you're being nice again. You're more confusing than politics."

He smirked. "Thought Princeton people knew everything 'bout politics."

"Just because I graduated from Princeton doesn't mean anything. I just went there, but majored in English and art. I never took but one politics class." She closed her eyes and lowly growled. "Stop getting me sidetracked and answer my question!"

"I did," he whispered.

"Huh?"

"Don't worry 'bout it." He leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Anyways, you left yesterday before I could get to know you. Tell me 'bout yourself."

Maka opened her mouth to push more about the change in his demeanor the other day, but decided against it. Side-eyeing the cameras, she guessed they had something to do with it. Maybe she'd get the chance to ask him when they were alone. If they ever found the time to be alone.

"What do you wanna know about me?" she asked, shrugging as she did so.

"Uh, music?" he asked, slightly unsure of himself. "That a good place to start?"

"You don't do small talk often, do you?" she smiled.

He grimaced. "Not really a necessity in my line of work."

"What is your line of work exactly?" She placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin in the palm of her hands. "There aren't many bull riders up in New York so I'm curious."

"Well, it's exactly what it sounds like. I ride bulls professionally half the year and help out at the ranch the rest of it."

"I've never watched bull riding. Is it - is it dangerous? I mean I would imagine so since you're basically riding an animal that's pissed off and can put its horns into you. But have you ever been hurt doing it?"

His face grimaced as his hand rose to rub against his chest. "You can say that."

"Was it bad?"

"Knocked me out for two months."

"But you're okay now?"

"It happened five years ago, so I'm okay now."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-eight. You?"

"Twenty-five," she said.

A moment of silence passed between them. She took a sip of her tea and grabbed a green macaron she hoped was pistachio flavored. Soul stroked his finger lazily along the edge of his cup as he watched, a small twinkle in his eyes. Maka felt like she was being scrutinized under his gaze - as if he were sizing her up for some reason or other. Then again it was understandable. They were in the middle of a competition which meant he did have to choose which girl he wanted to stay and who was going home that week.

"I don't think I could do it. The bull riding," she supplied as an afterthought. "It's abusive to the animal, and I'd be putting my life on the line for a brief moment of entertainment."

"You get used to it," he said. The camera guy on their left checked his watch, pulling both Soul and Maka's attention to him and reminding them that they only had a limited time together. Soul turned back to her and half-smiled. "What do you do for a living?"

Maka tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm an elementary school teacher."

"You like kids more than teens?" he smiled.

"I do, actually. Their minds are still ready to learn about the world, and it's nice to have them be excited when I teach."

"Most people go for teaching high school so that's good."

"Thank you."

There was another small moment of silence between them. Maka nibbled on another macaron while Soul scratched beneath his jaw and sighed.

"So," he began, "what kinda music are you into?"

Sighing and preparing herself for the worst, she said a little cautiously, "I like dubstep."

She had been dreading the question since he originally brought it up because there had been too many times in her life where her taste in music had been ridiculed. Of course everyone was entitled to their own taste, but that didn't mean they had to tell her how awful they thought hers was. Everyone had a different musical palate that others should respect.

"Like Skrillex and Deadmau5?" he asked.

"Yeah."

His face scrunched up in distaste, and he rolled his eyes.

"I know what you're thinking," she quickly interjected. "My friend tells me all the time that it isn't real music and I should listen to other genres, but I like it! And I think that's good enough, right? It's not like I'm forcing anyone else to adhere to my taste in music or anything."

Soul's nostrils flared out as he laughed through his nose like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He leaned on the table and stared at her. Red eyes twinkled in amusement as he said, "Dubstep isn't music, Maka. It's noise that people try to pass off as music, but it's not. It's awful." He moved away from her and chuckled. "You have horrid taste."

Instinctively, she puffed out her cheeks and fought back the urge to kick him. "It's not like that's the only music I listen to. I like other artists as well, you know. More mainstream than hipster, but that just means they're good."

"Like Taylor Swift?" he correctly guessed.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing." Soul raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Unless sappy country pop songs are your thing, nothing."

"Taylor Swift doesn't only sing about break ups and love. She has songs about other things too, and she isn't sappy. She's really good." He smirked. "And aren't you a cowboy?"

Soul shrugged. "I'm a bull rider and live on a farm. What do you think?"

She blinked in confusion, but then his answer became clear and she sighed. "Sarcasm aside, please."

"I thought you needed more proof since my getup didn't make it clear."

"You're an ass, you know that?"

His mouth tugged up into a more genuine grin to reveal a set of sharp white teeth. She made a mental note to ask him about that at another time when the conversation was more socially acceptable for it. Along with his hair color.

"That's nice of you to say. I'm touched."

Maka rolled her eyes and huffed. "You're unbelievable."

A few seconds passed before he sighed. "Yes. I am a country boy, but that doesn't necessarily mean I like country music. It isn't really my thing."

She nodded. "So you don't like Taylor Swift, dubstep, or country music. What do you like then, Mister Music Snob?"

"Music Snob?" he snorted. "That's a little harsh."

"You've ridiculed the music that I like this entire time, and calling you a music snob is harsh?" she scoffed.

"I've only dissed your music because it's horrid and you need an intervention." He grinned. "Desperately if you ask me."

"I didn't. I think my musical palette is good as is."

"I'll disagree."

"Are you the music police or something? Did someone die and give you the license to judge others taste in music?"

"No, I just know what good music sounds like is all."

"That's what makes you a music snob!" She sighed exasperatedly, scooted her chair back, and stood up to leave. "You know, I don't have to take this. Don't bother giving me a rose because I won't be accepting it. I refuse to be with someone like you. You're lucky I'm feeling nice this time or else you'd have scalding hot tea in your face."

She turned on her heel and had every intent of leaving the bull rider behind, but was stopped before she walked two steps away. Glaring down at her wrist, she saw Soul's hand wrapped around her, holding her back, and turned her gaze on him. His eyes were softer than before - less guarded. Maka felt her own wall fall and a feeling of wanting to comfort him overcame her, but she fought against it. He had been rude to her; nothing excused that.

Not even her own need to care for every wounded animal that crossed her path.

"What?"

"Look, I'm sorry for what I said." His hand fell from hers, and his tone was more sincere, less harsh than before. "That was really rude of me. A lady such as yourself doesn't deserve to be talked to like that."

"Oh, so now you're apologizing?"

He shrugged. "That's what most people do when they've hurt someone else."

Maka opened her mouth to ask for a good reason she should stay, but closed it as she thought better of it. She didn't want to give him a chance to plead his case or beg her to stay. Her papa had done enough gravelling to her mama when he screwed around, and she had seen her mama take him back one too many times afterwards to know that a man never changed.

"I promise I won't be rude to you anymore?" he asked, his voice rising near the end.

Then again, Soul wasn't exactly like her papa either. He didn't implore her to forgive him right away nor did he swoon over every bachelorette on the farm.

She mulled it over for a few seconds, grinding the inside of her cheek between her teeth as she did. The camera people quietly maneuvered themselves around to catch her reaction. They were probably wondering if she'd have another outburst like she had the last time, but something felt different about Soul. His aura wasn't the same as it had been before. There wasn't a crack in his tone or demeanor that told her he thought against the words he had said.

The next she knew it, her rear was touching the soft cushion of her chair again.

"If you're like that again, I won't hesitate to walk out of here," she growled. "After this, there are no other chances."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Soul drummed his fingers against the tabletop while Maka took a sip of her tea. It was bitter and not at all how she usually liked it, so she set it down and made a mental note to drink some water after this.

"Jazz music," he said, breaking their silence.

"Huh?"

"Jazz. That's what kinda music I like."

She nodded. "Like Miles Davis or Adele?"

"Miles Davis." He blinked and leaned forward, eyes shining with hope. "You know who Miles Davis is?"

Maka slid in her chair slightly and only felt a little disappointed that she was about to burst his bubble. "Not exactly. My friend, Liz, listens to jazz, and that's how I know of him. I tried listening to his music once, but never really understood it."

"Oh," was all he said. A small, broken 'Oh'. "I guess we might have a problem then. I could never be with a girl who didn't like jazz music."

She was about to chide him for being a dick again, but caught the hint of teasing in his voice and countered with her own version. "And I can't be with someone who doesn't like Taylor Swift."

"We have a lot of issues for two people who've barely only begun," he joked.

"We do." Maka leaned forward and stage whispered, "You know that means we won't end well. Might as well cut this before we go any further."

"Yeah, but I hear endings are the best part."

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed and pink lightly dusted his cheeks as he stared at her. She wasn't completely sure what meaning his words held for her or why he reacted in such a way, but she did find it entertaining how blatant his emotions showed once he let his guard down even a little.

"But if it isn't gonna end well, then our ending won't be so happy," she said.

"Don't know if you don't try?"

Maka licked her lips and traced her finger along the handle of her cup. Soul had been rude to her the last time they spoke and the beginning of their conversation now, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit. After she had shown him she wasn't going to be taking any of his shit, his guard dropped a bit. She saw it in the way he looked at her, heard it in his voice, and felt it in his soul. He wasn't the person he had been presenting to her and the others these last few days, and she was curious to find out the truth.

Smiling, she said, "We'll see."

"Fantastic." His voice held more emphasis on both 'a's as if he were drawing them out, like the southern accents she had heard once before.

Maka's brows furrowed in confusion while his eyes bulged. Though he was from the south, he hadn't shown any signs of having a typical accent so she wasn't entirely sure she had heard him correctly. Shaking her head, she concluded she was hearing things and continued talking to Soul instead.

They spent the rest of their alone time talking about shared interests and teasing the other about their poor taste in things.

She found out they both loved the works of the same artist who went under the penname Lord Death; they agreed the sharp angles and weird poses of his drawings were interesting and different from others in his field. Soul told her he loved cool indy films while she chided him for his lack of horror movie experience. He didn't care much about reading while she loved it; she loved rainy days and he loved sunny days. They were polar opposites in everything that didn't matter, and the same in what did.

The conversation flowed nicely between them which led Maka to forget she was on a televised game show. Even with the mics and cameras being pointed in her face, they had somehow blended in with the background. Soul had even appeared to have forgotten about them as well, visibly relaxing in his chair during their conversation. It wasn't until the woman from earlier came back that she remembered she was in a competition to win the man's heart.

Maka smiled at Soul, bid him farewell, and stood up to exit the room. Before she left, though, she turned around and asked him the question that had been bothering her for too long.

"Soul."

He was staring blankly at the sweets in front of him, a small smile playing on his lips, but at the sound of her voice, it disappeared. The stoic, grim face she had come to associate with him trying to hide his emotions was back again. She lightly shook her head. Soul was an easy person to read when he had his guard down and forgot he was being watched.

"Yeah?"

"Why did you give me a rose?"

His brows knit together before they relaxed and he smiled, tugging down on his hat and casting his gaze down. "Because you weren't afraid to tell me I was being an ass."

She opened her mouth to say more, but closed it when she wasn't sure what to say. There wasn't anything else for her to elaborate on. Instead, she nodded and left the room.

But before she could leave completely, he threw her a quick apology.

"And sorry for being an ass to you the other night and today."

Maka smiled at that, mouthed a 'thank you', and was ushered out of the room for the next bachelorette to come in.

As she walked down the hallway, the woman dressed in black caught her up on what the girls had been doing during her absence, but her voice was drowned out by Maka's own thoughts. Soul's tiny sentiment had been sweet and warmed her heart. Maybe he really wasn't such a bad guy after all.

Maka was the last one to exit the limo when they arrived back on the property.

Night had already fallen over the quiet ranch and the sliver of moon shining above lit the path for them. The girls walked a few steps ahead of her as Maka dragged behind, not really wanting to join in their hen talk at that moment. She watched as the camera crew unloaded their equipment from another vehicle not far from the limo as they retired for the night. It wasn't like they needed to tape the girls, anyways; there were already several hidden cameras placed around the house for that.

Behind her, she heard a truck drive up a few feet away from where the limo dropped them off. The front door opened and closed as the driver exited, and the gravel crunched underneath as they walked away from her and the others. She didn't have to look behind her to know who it was. Soul had left the spa a few minutes after them so it was obvious he'd arrive a little after them as well. Instead of focusing on him, though, she turned her attention back to the girls in front of her and continued walking.

A crisp voice broke across the field and a faint warmth spread across her chest at the sound.

"Hey, Maka!" Soul called out.

She turned around. He motioned for her to come over to him, and she reluctantly did so. It wasn't that long of a walk for someone who was used to travelling around New York City, but she was slightly annoyed that he called her over. Truth be told, she was tired from the day's activities and really wanted to take a bath and sleep.

When she reached him, she noticed that one hand was covering his pants pocket and appeared to be toying with something in there. His fingers moved along the fabric in a rubbing motion before pausing. She silently prayed that he wasn't planning on showing her anything she didn't need to see so soon.

They were definitely far, far, far away from that stage of their relationship.

"Hey, Soul," she smiled. "Were you just getting back?"

"Yeah, I had to stop somewhere in town real quick." The hand that wasn't over his pocket rose, and he scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry. I know you're getting ready to go inside, but I wanted to give you this."

He fished around his pocket, and pulled out a black iPod touch and handed it to her. She took it, flipped it over, and looked back up at him.

"Thanks, but what for?"

He smirked. "Remember I said you had bad taste in music? Gonna introduce you to something better. Listen to the playlist on there titled 'Black Room'. I think you might like that one."

Maka glanced down at the iPod again, and then back at Soul, smiling. "You're that determined that I listen to good music that you'll give me your iPod?"

"Eh, it's more like borrowing it." He stuffed his hands in his jean pockets and shrugged. "Tell me what you think later on."

"I will."

With that, he nodded and walked to the main house while Maka went to the guest house.

That night, when she and the girls were sitting around in the living room, the ones that had gone to the spa told the others about how it went. They shared stories of the nice employees and being pampered for the day as well as their alone time with Soul. Each one had a different tale. For a few, he had been aloof and rolled his eyes when the girls attempted to get to know him, and they felt like he didn't care. A couple had similar experiences to Maka's, but he wasn't as engaging with them as he had been with her.

When her turn rolled around to share, Maka sipped her water - because no way was she drinking more wine - and contemplated what to share with them.

"What about you, Maka? How was your time with Soul?" Blair asked. "Was he a little grumpy pants for you too?"

She licked her lips and shook her head. "No. We talked about music and movies and found out we liked the same artist, but that was it. It wasn't much of anything, to be honest, but it was nice."

"Did he give you something when we came back?" Nicole, one of Meredith's friends, asked. "Because I saw him call you over to him before you came inside."

"Um, yeah?"

"What was it?"

"Just his iPod." Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. She wasn't entirely sure if she was supposed to be sharing this with them or not. "He said there was some music he wanted me to listen to."

"Sounds like he was more talkative with you," Nicole commented, spite and jealousy obvious in her tone.

"I saw him after you," Meredith started, "and he seemed to be in a better mood compared to this morning. Seems like it was a really good talk. It must be nice to have the bachelor wrapped around your finger already." The next bit she mumbled to herself, but everyone still heard her. "Probably only keeping you for one reason."

Maka blinked.

Was she seriously implying what she thought she was?

"Excuse me?"

"Hm?" Meredith's attention turned back to her, eyes wide and mouth tightly closed as if she didn't know what Maka was questioning.

"What was that last thing you said?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing, sweetheart. I just said that's really nice that Soul likes you."

"Right," she nodded.

But she knew that wasn't the case.

Glancing at the other girls faces, she felt they shared the same feelings as well. As if it were her fault that she and Soul got along so well because it wasn't. It wasn't her fault that he treated her differently than them. How he acted around the other girls was completely out of her hands. She had no control over him; he was his own person. And if that meant he preferred being himself with her than the other girls, then that was on him, not her. The others had to realize that instead of throwing all the blame on her.

Falling in love with Soul wasn't even her current intention.

She excused herself to her room and went straight to bed, popping her earphones into the iPod to listen to Soul's playlist. It turned out to be a mix between piano medleys and jazz music. The piano songs were the ones that intrigued her the most. They each started out with a loud, smashing of the keys by the performer before turning into a manic sound that left her feeling unnerved. It was a deafening, frightening noise that should have scared her, but it didn't. There was something about it that drew her in, something that beckoned for her to listen closer.

The song didn't seep into her mind like the books she had read over and over in the past. She wasn't able to fully comprehend the meaning behind it, but it still tugged on her heartstrings nonetheless. There was something about it that was alluring; the tone of it strung a chord within her soul that had been untouched for years. It was the same string that was tied to her past and the issues she had been dealing with for as long as she remembered. While she didn't understand it, it felt like it explained herself so well.

A single tear rolled down her cheek of its own accord as she drifted off to sleep, the piano medley dying out as it changed to the next song.

At close to three in the morning, she found herself alone in the confessional room once again. She clicked the camera on and weakly smiled.

"Maybe my previous observation of the girls was wrong - primarily Meredith and Nicole. It's pretty obvious they're gonna be the mean girls this season. No doubt about that. But the others are still complete sweethearts," she said to the blinking red light.

"And Soul isn't who he made himself out to be in the beginning as well. There's still something about him that he's hiding from me and the others, but he's definitely not a dickbag." She paused briefly. "I don't regret tossing my drink on him, either. He deserved that, and truth be told, I always kinda wanted to do that to someone. Soul was the perfect candidate for that."

She sighed and picked up the iPod she had brought with her. "The music on this is also really good. I don't get it - jazz and piano are things I'm forever musically challenged with - but they're still good songs to listen to. Not better than dubstep and Taylor Swift," she added. "I do appreciate Soul's music, though."

Smiling, she leaned forward and clicked the camera off before leaving the room to go back to bed.

At the second rose ceremony, Soul did the same thing he had done at the first one. With each name that he called out, he looked straight at her and gave her the same hope that had been present that night. The only difference was the smirk that played on the edge of his mouth.

When he finally did say her name, it sounded like he was testing it out. His lips lingered on both syllables of her name, drawing out each letter. Her name was warm, sweet honey leaving his lips, and she wanted to hear more of it. It sounded like a promise being whispered in the dead of night, too afraid that if he were any louder that the tranquility would shatter. It was low and sensual like a song being sung for a lover, and it sent a shiver down her spine

Taking the rose from him, she smiled.