A/N: So, Chuck survived the audition. Time will tell if he is selected or not. Sarah has a friend on the show that's in her corner, or so we hope. Let's check in with our friends to see how they're faring.

Disclaimer: Don't own Chuck

Chapter 3

"Did you check your email? Maybe they sent it to your email." Morgan was laying on the couch in Chuck's office, throwing a koosh ball into the air and catching it.

"Yeeees, Morgan. I checked my email. I even checked my spam folder, as you so helpfully suggested. There's nothing there. Just like there was nothing there five minutes ago, or yesterday or last week. Dude face it. I'm not the kind of guy they're looking for." Chuck threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, flopping back into his office chair. Morgan sat up, swinging his legs around to face his friend.

"Come on, man. You'd be perfect! You own a successful company, you're a damn handsome man aannnnnd… you are, by far, the greatest guy I've ever known. "He held his arms out to the sides, palms up, as if resting his case.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Buddy, but I don't think most people see what you see." He let out a small sigh in resignation, shaking his head. "Look, this was a long shot at best and despite my best efforts, I got my hopes up a little. But it's time to face facts. They probably would have called or emailed me or sent a 'Thanks but no thanks' letter in the mail. So, let's just get back to work and forget this even happened. Besides, could you actually picture me with some world-famous celebrity as a girlfriend?" Chuck snorted at what he thought was a ridiculous notion. Morgan stopped at the doorway for a moment before calling over his shoulder.

"Yeah. Yeah, I can," he declared very matter-of-factly and with that he made his way back to his own office. Chuck sat silently, considering his friend's admission. Morgan had always had his back, was always there for him when he needed someone the most. He was there when Chuck's mother left, then when his father passed, and he was there to help pick up the pieces after … Jill. In return, Chuck was always there for Morgan, looking out for him, protecting him from himself and others. For the better part of fifteen years Morgan had been in Chuck's corner, and it was nice to know he was still there.

Chuck put his attention back on his work, trying to push the thoughts of the show out of his mind. He had been putting the finishing touches on a project that just ended its beta phase. In a few weeks it would be gold and could be released to market. He was deeply engrossed in implementing the remainder of the bug fixes that he didn't bother to look at the caller ID when his phone rang. He absentmindedly felt along his desk for his phone, not taking his eyes off his computer screen. Lifting the phone to his ear, pressing it to his shoulder to free his hands, he answered.

"This is Chuck."

"Mr. Bartowski. This is Zondra Rizzo. With the show 'Off Screen Romance'. We met during your audition." Chuck's head shot up, his eyes wide in shock at hearing her name. The loud clattering of his cell phone bouncing off his chair and onto the floor pulled him from his daze. He scrambled to retrieve the phone from the floor, fumbling it several times before returning it to his ear.

"Mr. Bartowski? Are you alright?" She asked, an amused tone in her voice.

"I'm… I'm here. Yes. Sorry. Sorry about that. I uh… I dropped the … the thing… Hi. Hello. Uh... Hello Miss Rizzo." Chuck paused, wincing at himself for sounding like a complete idiot. He took a cleansing breath and tried again. "How can I help you?" There was a moment of silence on the line and he had to check his phone to make sure the call hadn't disconnected.

"Mr. Bartowski-"

"Chuck. Y-you can call me Chuck. I'm really not that formal," he interrupted, rushing in to correct her. She cleared her throat before continuing.

"Alright, 'Chuck'," she began, placing emphasis on 'Chuck'. "We've completed reviewing all of the auditions. It was a difficult process, which was why it took some time, but we've made our final contestant selections."

"Wow. That's uh… that's great. I'm a little confused though. I figured you would just send a form letter of some sort," he replied, his mouth jumping to answer before his head had a chance to weigh in.

"A … form letter?" The confusion in her tone was evident, but Chuck just barreled right on through.

"Yeah. You know, 'Dear Mr. Bartowski. Thanks, but no thanks. Signed, All of us.' That sorta thing." He shrugged even though she obviously couldn't see him, which made him feel even more like an idiot.

"Mr. - Chuck. I'm calling because you were one of the ones selected to be on the show." Chuck's mouth fell open and his world started to spin for a few seconds. He sat quietly letting her words soak in. Another loud clatter broke him out of his daze, causing him to jump. He rushed to collect his phone from the floor, again, fumbling it several times before he was able to get a good hold of it.

"Chuck? Chuck, are you still there?" Zondra asked, pausing in hopes of a response.

"I'm… I'm here. I just… the thing… I'm just… processing." There was another long silence before he spoke again. "Y-you said I was selected?"

"Yes. That's right. You'll be one of the twenty-five initial contestants," Zondra confirmed.

"But… but why?" he asked incredulously. He had resigned himself to the fact that he was not what they were looking for, and frankly he understood. To hear that he had been selected over some of the Greek gods he saw in line at auditions was ludicrous.

"Why?" She was clearly taken aback by his question. This was the last call she had to make after having contacted the other twenty-four contestants. Not one of them questioned their choice. In fact, a number of them were rather full of themselves, sounding like it was only natural that they were selected. Yet here he was, genuinely confused as to why he had been chosen. A smile began to form as she realized she was right about him. He was a good guy, and if anyone deserved the opportunity it was him. She was even more sure of it now.

"You were chosen because you're a good, kind man with an interesting story to tell. So, unless you refuse…" she trailed off, waiting for him to respond.

"Oh! Uh... No. No, I don't refuse. Frankly, as terrifying as being on the show sounds, I'm more afraid of my sister if I say 'No'." He chuckled at himself, but the nervousness was evident.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. Now, we will send you a document, detailing what items you'll need to pack and what will be provided. We'll also give you some additional forms to fill out. The usual non-disclosure agreement and some medical waivers. That sort of thing. We'll provide the address and time to meet. You'll all be shuttled from there to the estate that will be used for filming. Any questions?"

"Um… what day will this meeting take place?"

"This coming Monday. That gives you the remainder of the week plus the weekend to put your affairs in order. If there aren't any other questions, I'll let you get to it. Congratulations Chuck. See you on Monday. Oh and um… you might want to see about your phone. It seems to be… dropping calls." With that she ended the call, leaving Chuck to sit in silence, his phone still pressed to his ear. He let out a one note chuckle, finally catching her jab at him.

"Hey Chuck. The cover art of the game came…" Morgan started as he made his way into Chuck's office, trailing off when he saw the frozen look on his friends face. "Buddy?" he whispered, slowly creeping up to the front of his desk waving his hand. "You alright? You're starting to freak me out a little here, Buddy." The fog seemed to lift as Chuck shook himself out of his thoughts. He pulled the phone away and looked at it, blinking a few times before he placed it on his desk. Turning to look at his friend, he swallowed thickly.

"I'm in," was all he could muster, the shock settling in, causing his throat to become a little tight.

"NO?!" Morgan gasped, asking incredulously. Chuck could only nod with a slightly pained smile.

"HAHAHA! YES! YES!" Morgan was literally jumping for joy, his hands raised aloft in triumph. "You see?! You see?! I told you! I told you! They DID want you. I knew it, and here you doubted me. Don't doubt the beard, man. The beard knows all!" Morgan paced the office, throwing in a few fist pumps for good measure. As his excitement tapered off, Morgan realized that Chuck was not nearly as happy as he thought he should be.

"Dude. What gives? I thought you'd be happy. You look like you just got picked for jury duty." Morgan plopped down in the chair in front of Chuck's desk, leaning in to rest his arms on the edge of the desk.

"I… I dunno. I guess it all just hit me. I never really thought this was a possibility, so I never let it get to me, but now…. Buddy, I'm going to have to meet some beautiful celebrity and talk to her on camera. Not only that, but I'm going to have to try to present myself as… dating material. You know how absurd that is? I can't even do that with a regular woman, without all the cameras and people staring at me. I'm going to make a complete and utter fool of myself." He ran his hands through his hair, blowing out a long sigh.

"Ok. I see your point," Morgan replied, nodding his head. He began rubbing his beard as he stared off pensively. "If only we could find some way to get your mojo back. Like before that sea hag Jill came into the picture."

"Um… Morgan… I've never had mojo. Ever. Even before Jill, I was definitely lacking in the mojo department. In fact, it's likely the lack of said 'mojo' that was the root of my problems with her in the first place," he confessed dejectedly.

"Dude, that's crap and you know it. You know what? I think I'm gonna have to call in the big guns." He pulled out his phone and began to thumb through the contacts when Chuck reached across the desk and clamped a hand over the phone.

"Don't you dare!" Chuck pleaded. "I can't handle that just yet. I need some time to process. Plus, I don't have the right ear protection for that." Morgan glared at him with squinted eyes, as if trying to judge the merit of his excuses.

"Fine…. But you need to tell her, and soon. If she finds out you're holding out on her, she's gonna flip her lid. Nobody wants that." Both men thought about that for a moment and shivered simultaneously, nodding in agreement.

"I promise. I'll go over and tell her tonight. I just need time to … prepare."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sarah plopped down on the couch in her living room, kicking her feet up to relax for a moment. She had been in production meetings for the show most of the week. They were less than a week away from filming, so everyone was on edge. If it weren't for Zondra helping to keep things together, she'd likely have choked somebody by now. Letting out a long sigh, she picked up the remote to mindlessly flip through the channels to find something to distract her mind. Flipping through channels, she passed by TMZ and after skipping past it, she froze. Quickly she flipped back to see none other than Bryce Larkin being interviewed for a new movie he was in, some period piece which was laughable. She watched out of morbid curiosity, not so secretly wishing he'd somehow fall on his face. After a few questions about the movie, the interviewer brought up their relationship.

"Our viewers want to know, what happened between you and Sarah Walker? You had such great on-screen chemistry. It was like a match made in heaven. Was there trouble in paradise?"

"Well, Lauren, you know I don't like to gossip," he began, that smarmy grin on his face. Sarah just rolled her eyes.

"You're so full of shit," Sarah yelled at the television, his cocky attitude and blatant lies were one of the things that drove her crazy during their relationship.

"I tried to make things work between us, but I wanted more from the relationship, you know. To take things to the next level. She was just so cold and distant; she'd never let me in. She always had to be in control, like the queen of her icy castle. She's just so closed off, unfeeling sometimes. Finally, I just had to break things off. I just couldn't live like that anymore."

"WHAT?!" Sarah exclaimed in complete shock. If anything, it was the complete opposite. Let alone the fact that she had broken things off with him after she had found out that he'd cheated on her… repeatedly.

"Sarah Walker the Ice Queen, huh?" Lauren inquired, giving Bryce a pointed look, hoping for more dirt.

"I suppose that's one way of putting it. Let's just say there's a reason she's type cast in the roles she plays," he added, giving a wink and a knowing smile.

"That son of a bitch!," she shouted, throwing the remote control at the wall beside the television, causing it to explode into what looked like a thousand pieces. She leapt to her feet, pacing the living room. Growling in frustration, she stormed up to the television, turning it off manually, now that the remote was obliterated.

Continuing to pace and grumble to herself, a number of choice words to describe Bryce spilling out, she stormed into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of Moscato from her wine refrigerator. In deliberate motions, she took the bottle opener from its drawer, pulled the cork from the bottle and tossed the opener back in its home, slamming the drawer closed. Well, she attempted to slam the drawer. However, the soft close mechanism on the drawers robbed her of the gratifying slamming sound as it quietly shut itself. With a huff, she pulled a wine glass from the undercounter hanger and rather forcefully set it on the counter. The cracking sound gave her pause as she realized she had broken the stem off the glass. Raising her head to stare at the ceiling, she let out an aggravated growl before throwing the glass and stem in the trash, snatching the bottle off the counter.

A short while later, she found herself soaking in her tub with bubbles up to her neck, a half empty bottle of wine in one hand and her cell phone pressed to her ear in the other.

"Of course, TMZ doesn't give a flyin' fuck if they got their facts straight. All they care about is tabloid sensationalism. Damn vultures." She took a swig of wine, nearly spitting it out as she got ahead of herself trying to speak. "Mmmm. And another thing…. Where the hell did he come up with this shit about me being cold and distant? Seriously? Me? What about him? He was the one that was never there, but when he was, all he wanted to talk about was himself. God, he's such a dick!" Letting out an exasperated groan, she took another swig of wine.

"I know. I know... Yes, I'm in the bathtub…. No, I'm not drunk in the bathtub. I'm 'drinking' in the bathtub. There's a difference. But in about twenty minutes, I'll be 'drunk' in the bathtub…. No! You can't join me! … Oh. Yeah. I could eat…. No. I want Chinese, and not sushi. I want some greasy, fatty, Americanized Chinese food… Yeah. And eggrolls. Hey. Hey. I got another call coming in. I gotta take this. I'll see you when you get here. Oh, Hey. Wait! Wait! Fried rice! Dammit..." She looked at the phone, grimacing then swiped to answer it.

"Hey Diane… Yeah… yeah I saw it." Sarah put the phone on speaker and set it on the edge of the tub.

"This is bullshit Sarah. We're not gonna let him get away with this," Diane barked, clearly very pissed off.

"Yeah, I know it's complete bullshit! But what am I supposed to do about it? It's out there now. It's not like I can go on TV and tell everyone 'Oh, No. He's a lying sack of shit, despite his pretty face and million-dollar smile'. Nobody's gonna believe me over him at this point. He deliberately used that 'type cast' remark just to get at me. He knew that shit bothered me and now he's using it against me. GAH! I could just…" she trailed off, fuming so much she couldn't think of the words.

"But Sarah, don't you see? We have an ace in the hole," Diane's voice was now filled with vengeful glee. So much so that you could practically see the evil grin through the phone.

"I… I'm not following. Wh-what ace?" Sarah shifted in the tub, pulling herself up a little, looking more intently at the phone.

"We ARE going to go on TV. Not just that, but we're going to do more than tell them he's wrong, we're going to show them. He has no idea about 'Off-Screen Romance'. Nobody does. At least, nobody knows you're going to be on it. You said this was your chance to show people the many sides of 'Sarah Walker'. So, do it! Show them!" She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in. "Prove to them you're no Ice Queen. Show them that Sarah Walker let's people in, just not douchebags like Bryce Larkin."

Sarah let that thought swirl around in her head for a moment. The thought of letting people in was a bit frightening. Maybe there was some grain of truth to what Bryce had said. Was she cold and unfeeling? Did she push people away, keep them from getting too close? It was certainly safer that way. The more you cared, the more it hurt when they ultimately betrayed you. If anything, her failed Hollywood relationships had taught her was that they would all betray you eventually.

"Sarah… talk to me. You're too quiet. Is this 'Brooding Sarah'? We don't need 'Brooding Sarah' right now. We need 'Confident Sarah'." Sarah couldn't help but snort at the remark. Diane's teasing tone pulling her from her alcohol induced funk.

"Alright. It's not going to be easy. You know how many people watch TMZ?" Sarah challenged, not willing to concede the point to Diane just yet.

"Pfft. TMZ? Like... three million. Tops." The thought of trying to quantify three million people literally made her choke. "But do you know how many viewers 'Off-Screen Romance' had last season? Nearly seven million, and that was every episode. That TMZ segment aired once and it's a flash in the pan. Done. You don't have anything to worry about. Trust me," the older woman urged, exuding confidence in her tone. The fact of the matter was that she did trust Diane. She had been with her from the beginning and had never steered her wrong.

"Alright. Alright. You win. I'll try to stop freaking out about it," Sarah drawled, slumping into her bathwater a little further.

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow. And for God's sake, don't talk to the media!" With that, the call was disconnected. Sarah let out a long sigh, sliding down a little further until her lips met the water. Feeling a bit overwhelmed and a little depressed, she began absentmindedly blowing bubbles in the water, much like a child blowing bubbles in their milk. The absurdity of it got her giggling. Soon it was uncontrollable, escalating into a full-on laugh. She thought she must be going mad, but if she didn't laugh, she would likely cry, and she wasn't going to let that asshole Bryce have that kind of control over her. After a few minutes she regained her senses, letting out a cleansing breath. She had company coming so she needed to get out of the tub and dressed, before Carina decided to join her in the tub. Mustering up the energy, she let the water out of the tub and dried herself off, snatching her bottle of wine before padding out of the bathroom to change.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"El… Ellie will…. Wi…. would you… just…. ELLIE!" He shouted, grabbing his sister by the shoulders in an effort to stop her from her incessant bouncing. He could feel her literally vibrating with excitement. "Will you calm down? GEEZ! I'm only a contestant. One of twenty-five guys. Don't get your hopes up, OK?" he added, his countenance slumping into brief sadness.

"Chuck, those other guys don't stand a chance. Once this woman meets you, I'm sure she'll see the great guy you are," Ellie boasted, a look of pride on her face. Chuck could only return a furrowed brow, releasing his grip on her shoulders and stepping away.

"Really? And how has that worked out for me so far, exactly?" He asked indignantly, gesturing around the room. "Nobody's seemed all that interested so far. And now, I'm about to go on national television and re-enact getting picked last at kickball for the entire free world. Whoever this woman is, she's likely had her pick of celebrities, musicians or sports figures, and they weren't good enough. Now, she's gonna have twenty-four steak dinners paraded in front of her and she's supposed to pick me? The PB and J? I don't think so," he huffed, slumping in dejection as the wind had left the sails of his self-deprecating rant. Without warning, Ellie's fist slammed into Chuck's shoulder from a hard, right hook. "OW! What the hell?"

"That's enough of that crap. I'm not gonna stand here and listen to you put yourself down anymore. Have you had shitty luck with relationships? Yes! It was a colossal failure, but it wasn't your fault. Ok, I take that back. It was a little bit your fault." Chuck's mouth dropped open in surprise at Ellie's confession. For a pep talk, this was not really helping. "You settled for a woman that wasn't good enough for you. She treated you like shit, but you stayed because you thought you couldn't do better and were afraid to be alone. I get it. Believe me, I get it," she sighed, her anger fading. "Look, you shouldn't have to prove your worth to someone. They should just see it in your actions. If you have to pretend to be someone you're not, or change yourself to be the person they want you to be, then you're in the wrong relationship. There is no scenario where that doesn't end badly. If you truly want someone to like you for who you are, then you have to be yourself. That's it! Just be you. Just be Chuck Bartowski, nerd extraordinaire. Chuck Bartowski, who's sometimes a little awkward, makes corny jokes and loves with his whole heart. If it's the right person, they'll pick PB and J over that steak dinner, every time." The siblings stood in silence for a moment, letting the words settle over them. After a moment Chuck cleared his throat.

"That uh… that was a nice little speech. You… you rehearse that? Or was that all improvis- OW! Will you stop that? Dammit! That was the same spot. Son of a…" Chuck shook his arm, trying to rub away the impending bruise. He couldn't help but chuckle and even Ellie, despite her best efforts, began to chuckle as well. When the laughter died down and the two sobered, Chuck stepped up and wrapped his sister in a hug.

"Thanks, Sis. I needed that. Well, I could have done without the hitting, but thanks. I'll try to be the best version of 'me' I can be. If I'm not the one for her… or she's not the one for me," he rushed out, feeling Ellie tensing, "then so be it. But I'll give it my best effort." She squeezed him tighter before pulling away, rubbing her hands up and down his arms.

"That's all I ask. Who knows? Maybe she'll surprise you… or you'll surprise her. Crazier things have happened." Ellie shot him a wink and a smile before pulling away and heading toward the kitchen. "You want something to eat?"

"Oooo. You know I do," he jumped, quickly following after her.

A/N2: So, this would have been a pretty short lived story if he weren't selected, huh. Thanks for all of the support for this story. It means a lot that you take the time to share your thoughts about it. Please continue to send in your reviews or PMs and let me know what you think.

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