A/N: Last we left our friends, Chuck had gotten some sage advice from Ellie and Sarah received a pep talk from Diane. Things are gearing up for the start of the show. It'll be fine, right? Right?
Disclaimer: Don't own Chuck
Chapter 4
Chuck had arrived by Uber at the agreed upon location, so as not to have his car left sitting for however long he would be gone. He was now standing with his duffle bag, suitcase and backpack, waiting in line for the shuttle that was to take them to the filming location. It was listed in the NDA that the location was to remain secret, so naturally they had not told them where they would be staying. If word got out, the paparazzi, and even more legitimate media outlets, would swarm the place trying to get information on who the celebrity and contestants were before it even aired. What he figured was that it would be a large, palatial estate at the very least. It would have to be in order to house at least the twenty contestants that would remain after the first "pruning".
He was not really a fan of the show, never having seen any of the prior seasons until he looked them up on the web after his audition. He knew the basic format they used in the past at least. The more… sexualized scenes made him a little uneasy. Sure, the episodes he had seen were with a male celebrity, one that Chuck thought was a womanizing asshole, but he suspected the network would want to see that sort of thing in this season as well. Those types of scenes were exploitive, and he didn't think the celebrity, or the contestants for that matter, should have to be subjected to that, ratings be damned. He knew he couldn't be party to any of that, but the likelihood he would make it that far was extremely remote, so he felt he had little to worry about.
A large tour bus with tinted windows arrived and Zondra Rizzo, along with what looked to be an assistant and two grunts, stepped off the bus and approached the gathering of contestants. The grunts opened the under-bus storage compartments and waited patiently beside the bus. Conferring with her assistant, checking over a clipboard, Zondra nodded and addressed the crowd.
"When I call your name, step forward, hand your bags to one of the gentlemen beside the bus and find a seat." Her tone was very business-like, a no-nonsense vibe that offered no room for argument. He had not seen her like this in his previous encounter at his audition or even on the phone, and he had to admit she kind of scared him a little bit. He figured that to command any respect in this business, she would have to be better, tougher and smarter than her male counterparts. It was unfair but likely the harsh reality. He was lost in his thoughts and nearly jumped when his name was called. "Bartowski!"
Wading through the crowd with an "excuse me", "pardon me" and an "oops, sorry about that", he finally made it up to where Zondra stood. "I'm... I'm here. Chuck Bartowski. Present." He even raised his hand, as if all the awkwardness so far had not gotten their attention. Surprisingly, Zondra actually cracked a small smile, shaking her head.
"Good to see you Chuck. Drop off your stuff and find a seat." She gestured with her head toward the bus, and just as quickly as her smile had appeared, it had vanished. She called out the next name on the list, giving Chuck the cue to get moving. He handed his bags to the men beside the bus and thanked them before climbing onto the bus. The few men that were called ahead of him were scattered around the bus, so Chuck went with his customary seat at the back of the bus and sat with his hands in his lap. He watched as the contestants slowly filtered onto the bus, filling up the seats until all twenty-five, plus the show's staff, were onboard. As there were plenty of seats to spare, nobody had bothered to sit near him in the back, and he supposed he was OK with that. He likely didn't have much in common with these guys and didn't feel the need for senseless small talk. He figured he wouldn't be staying long anyway, so making friends was probably a moot point.
When they pulled into the driveway, they were greeted by a tall, stone wall with a large wrought iron gate being the only visible entrance. The gates slowly opened to allow them through, and they continued along the winding drive until they crested the hill, revealing the sprawling mansion. It was a colossal Mediterranean inspired estate, nestled in the foothills of the Santa Monica Mountains. They pulled up to the front of the estate, a circular drive allowing for the large bus to make an easy U-turn to return the way it came once it had dropped off its cargo. The contestants filed out of the bus and lined up outside the large double-doors of the main entrance. Being at the back of the bus, Chuck was last to exit, standing in awe of the home before him. He could tell it was enormous from the bus window, but to be standing in front of it was something else entirely. It was easily the largest house he had ever seen. Shaking himself out of his musings, he stepped forward to join the others.
Instead of taking them into the house, Zondra and her staff lead them around the side, through another stone wall that served as a fence of sorts, and onto a large patio area. There were tables setup with refreshments and chairs placed all around in a rather informal semi-circle. They were encouraged to partake of the snacks and take a seat for an "orientation" of sorts. Chuck grabbed a bottle of water and a banana, not wanting to risk anything more adventurous given how his stomach was already turning somersaults with nerves. Taking a seat, he ate his banana and slowly nursed his water, watching the various crews setting up camera and sound equipment throughout the patio, pool and garden areas. There was a large grotto at one end of the pool with water cascading off the rocks. The entire place was breathtaking, and Chuck just tried to drink it all in. Soon, the meeting began, and all eyes were on Zondra.
"Here is what you can expect for the remainder of the day. In about thirty minutes you'll be taken inside to a waiting area. There, you'll be given access to your bags. You can change into whatever outfit you wish for the introductory meeting with our mystery celebrity. There will be stylists and makeup artists there to help you prepare. You'll then be called one at a time in the order of our choosing. Are we clear so far?" She looked around the crowd and everyone mumbled and nodded their understanding.
"Good. Once instructed, you'll follow the path to the seating area over near the garden where you'll meet the mystery celebrity. After greeting each other, you'll sit down and chat for a couple of minutes. You may be asked to change positions slightly or given some basic instructions to follow to aid in filming. Please do as instructed and then leave when your time is up. We have twenty-five of these to shoot, so it's imperative that you stick to your allotted time. Once finished with your meeting, you'll be escorted to a staging area to wait. Everyone with me so far?" Again, there were more mumbles and nods, but people seemed to be zoning out as the meeting wore on.
"Finally, once all the contestants have been through their meet and greets with the celebrity, you'll move to the main living room for the filming of the first selections. If you're selected, you will thank her and move to the adjoining room. Eventually, there will only be five of you remaining. Those five will be eliminated, at which time you'll say your good-byes and make your way to the bus. Your bags will be loaded for you and you'll be taken back from whence you came. For those unfortunate enough to depart our company this evening, I'll remind you that according to your NDA, you may not discuss anything that you have seen or heard with anyone. That means ANYONE. As I'm sure you've read, this would put you in breach of your contract and subject to very steep fines and aggressive legal action," she warned, giving a stern glare to the crowd of onlookers. "If there are no questions, finish your snacks and head into the waiting area."
There were small clusters of contestants carrying on conversations around the patio. It was the largest synchronized chest puffing he had ever witnessed. Each man seemed to be trying his damnedest to appear more dominant than the next. Chuck could only chuckle to himself, having no interest in participating in their ridiculous show of 'masculinity'.
Chuck knew he was not the perfect human specimen. Hell, he wasn't even sure he was representative of the species. He had always been tall and gangly for most of his life. It wasn't until Ellie had started dating Captain Awesome, err… Devon, that he began to put any thought into his physical health. Sure, he still ate like a teenage boy, but Ellie had convinced him to take up jogging and working out with Awesome during what they liked to call Chuck's "Blue period". It did help him take his mind off of things, especially Jill, and he found that once he got past the sensation of having broken glass in his lungs or being unable to lift his arms over his head, he didn't mind the workouts that much. Despite becoming much fitter in the past few years, he knew he was no competition for these guys. He didn't know that he was competition for them in any form, but he knew it would not be his physique.
Having no interest in comparing the size of his "workout regimen" with the other contestants, he happily chatted with the catering staff or camera and sound guys as they adjusted their equipment throughout the area. He felt much more comfortable talking with those people, seeming to have much more in common, both in topic and disposition. Passing the time chatting with the staff had helped considerably to settle his nerves. He received a few glares from the other contestants as they walked by, heading into the house, but he paid them no mind. He didn't really care what they thought of him. Afterall, when this was over, he'd likely never see any of them again. He tried to think of this show as a competition with himself instead of against the other contestants. If he could be the best 'him' that he could, that was all he could do. Bidding his goodbyes to his new acquaintances, he too made his way into the house to prepare for the meet and greet with the mystery celebrity.
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Sarah was in the back of a black limousine, pulling up to the front of the large estate where filming would begin. All afternoon, her stomach had been doing flips, her nerves working overtime as she thought about the prospect of having to meet and pretend to be interested in twenty-five strangers. Now that she had literally passed through the gates of her own personal hell, there was a kaleidoscope of butterflies in her stomach trying to take flight. It wasn't being in front of the cameras that bothered her. Hell, she spent most of her adult life as some cameraman's target. When she had a script, when she knew the plan and could rehearse a scene over and over, that was where she was most comfortable. She hated surprises. Most of her movies were teaming with action sequences, highly structured and choreographed, right down to the smallest detail. Sure, she could improvise a scene, shoot from the hip, literally and figuratively, when the situation called for it, but when it was just her, talking about herself… that was not in her wheelhouse.
When the limo stopped in front of a large garage, the door was opened for her, and she stepped out to find herself surrounded by people. Megan, one of Zondra's assistants, she knew, along with several others of the show's staff. Looming over her was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a chiseled jaw and steely eyes. His gaze was searching, looking everywhere but at her. He wore a crisp, dark suit, one hand on the car door and the thumb of his other resting on his belt buckle. His entire presence screamed 'bodyguard'. For a brief moment, he caught a glimpse of her, just long enough to address her before returning to his careful watch.
"Miss Walker." His tone was curt but professional. He was clearly not one for small talk. He escorted her into the garage, gesturing for her to follow another man that appeared to be part of the security detail. The show's staff followed suit, with the large man bringing up the rear.
This was not the first time she'd had to deal with personal security. Security was often provided for public appearances and set locations that were in urban centers; any high-profile events that could draw out the wackos. This man, however, seemed a cut above the rest. She had spent plenty of time around former and active military personnel, who were used heavily as consultants on all her action movies. The way he carried himself, he definitely had a military background, a Marine perhaps. Even though she could take care of herself, she tried not to begrudge them too much. They were just doing their job and the production company was only protecting their investment.
They were led into and through the house to what looked like a large den or study. In the room were portable racks of clothing, a makeup table and several stylists. Sarah watched as the large man checked out the windows, nodding to the other bodyguard, who secured the French doors that lead to the side yard of the estate. Seeming to be satisfied, he returned to Sarah's side.
"Ma'am. I'm John Casey. I will be your security detail during the filming of this show. I'll escort you to and from filming locations and will be in close proximity whenever you are in public. That is Jim Yeager. He's part of the security detail assigned to this production. He'll provide general security, along with others of my staff, on the filming locations and during any public appearances." Recognizing that John Casey would not offer, she extended her hand in greeting.
"Nice to meet you Mr. Casey," she began with a warm smile. "I understand you're just doing your job, so please forgive me if I get annoyed at having a shadow from time to time. It's not personal." He awkwardly accepted her offered hand, shaking it firmly but not so hard as to seem aggressive. He even returned a small smile, or at least what seemed to pass for a smile.
"Most people simply call me Casey. John if you must, but never "mister" or "sir", if you don't mind." He glowered at those terms, seeming to find them distasteful. She gave a slight chuckle and nodded her understanding.
"And you, 'Casey', can call me Sarah. Walker if you must, but never 'ma'am' or 'miss'." She gave him a wry smile, enjoying throwing some of his own demands back at him. A smirk began to form on his otherwise steely face, the expression clearly showing he got the joke. He nodded and seemed to relax ever so slightly. Sarah was well aware of how many celebrities treated their bodyguards, assistants, etc. It was as if they were in indentured servitude. She couldn't abide those elitist, narcissists and tried her best to treat people kindly. She'd never understand how celebrities could treat people like dirt and then trust them with their homes, money… their food! This business was fickle, and your career could come crashing down at a moment's notice. Wouldn't it be better to see friends on the way down rather than all the people you mistreated on your way up?
"Sarah," called the familiar voice of Megan, Zondra's primary assistant. "We're gonna need to get you prepped and ready. They want to start filming in about an hour." She gave Sarah an apologetic smile, pointing at her tablet. That brought Sarah crashing back to reality. She had been distracted momentarily from her worrying, but now that she'd been reminded how quickly the time was approaching, the butterflies were back in full force. Putting on the best smile she could, she made her way to the chair for hair and makeup.
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It had been years since an occasion had presented itself to Chuck for him to wear makeup. When he was young, Ellie used to practice on him, but he hadn't minded so much at the time. It gave him someone to play with after all, before Morgan came into the picture. More recently, he had used some stage makeup for a Comic-Con cosplay outfit where he dressed as Ashley Williams from Army of Darkness, complete with chainsaw hand. This was decidedly less… masculine. Nevertheless, he knew it was a necessary part of being on camera. He struck up a conversation with the hair and makeup stylists, his nervous energy making him ramble even more than usual. He had apologized, recognizing too late that he was spiraling, but they were kind and sympathetic, giving him words of encouragement. He really needed that, with the meet and greet, or 'crash and burn' as he referred to it in his head, was looming ever closer. Remembering Ellie's advice for the auditions, he put some paper towels in his front pockets to give him something to help control his sweating palms. Not only was he going to meet a celebrity, and all the excitement and fear surrounding that to contend with, but he was also expected to be "charming" all the while being filmed from a dozen different angles.
He paced around the room, saying "Hello" to passersby, only receiving responses from the show's staff. It was oddly reminiscent of high school and he was grateful he didn't have a stack of textbooks under his arm he needed to safeguard. One by one, the contestants filed out as their names were called. They were obviously not called in alphabetical order, otherwise he would have gone already. In fact, he was beginning to wonder if they had forgotten him altogether. He was almost sure of it when he was the sole contestant remaining, only a few staff remained to clean up the room. They shot glances his way periodically and he gave them a sheepish grin in return, feeling as awkward as they likely did. He plopped down in a chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He hung his head and stared at the ground, his nervousness now turning to despair. Had they changed their mind? Maybe they realized that choosing him had been a mistake after all. He blew out a long breath and was startled by the clearing of a throat. He shot his head up to see Zondra, and an assistant he recognized from earlier in the day, standing in the doorway. She gave him a warm smile, with her arms crossed, a leather portfolio pressed to her chest. She must have seen something in him, her head tilting slightly in confusion.
"You ready Chuck?" He stood abruptly; surprise etched across his face.
"Uh… y-yeah. I… I dunno. I guess I was beginning to think you changed your mind," he admitted sheepishly as he glanced around the room. Zondra followed his gaze and realized why he may have drawn that conclusion.
"No. Of course not. I…" She paused for a moment, then closed the distance between them. "I chose the order for a very good reason. Trust me," she urged, giving him a knowing smile and what he thought was a wink, but he couldn't be quite sure as she turned around, motioning him to follow. After the moment it took for him to collect himself, he used his long legs to eat up the distance, dropping in behind her and her assistant.
She led him to the patio where it met a pathway toward the garden. There was a clear separation as the garden path was made of large pieces of flagstone with pea gravel and moss-like ground cover between them. He paused at the edge of the patio, trying hard to swallow the lump in his throat. This was the point of no return. He knew that when he stepped off this patio, this path would lead him to some beautiful celebrity. A celebrity that he would have to make a good first impression with. To make matters worse, she had to meet twenty-four other contestants before him. She must be exhausted and mentally drained. That would make his task all the more impossible. As he stood there, staring at the pathway before him, a pair of women's heels came into view, causing Chuck to shake himself from his thoughts.
Zondra stood before him, a soft smile on her face. "You have nothing to be nervous about. Just be yourself and you'll do fine. That's the key. Just be yourself." She motioned with her head for him to follow and, after a long, cleansing breath, he nodded and began to follow.
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"Cut! That's good. I think we've got it," Roan called, waving the man toward the path that led back to the house. The Director stepped up to Sarah, who was taking a drink of water, stylists touching up her makeup. "How're you holding up?" The flat look she gave him spoke volumes and he allowed a small chuckle to escape. "I know. I know. That guy was terrible, but you're down to the last one. After that, you can take a short break and we can figure out who stays and who goes." Sarah nodded, rolling her eyes.
"I don't know if I can handle another one of those. What a narcissistic asshole." She let out a huff then adjusted herself dress, smoothing out any wrinkles. "Roan, can you give me a minute? I need to clear my head for a second. That last one really kinda irked me off. I want to give the last guy a fair chance and not go into it already in a pissy mood." The older man pondered for a moment, then turned to one of the lackeys beside.
"Go up the path and find Zondra. Tell her we're going to need a few moments." The young man took off like a shot. It wasn't but a couple of minutes later when Zondra came up the path with the lackey leading the way. She approached Roan, a disgruntled look on her face.
"What's the problem? We're literally down to the last guy. Why are we stopping?" Roan just gestured toward Sarah with his head, then held his hands up in surrender. Sarah was pacing a few yards away, admiring some of the wildflowers that grew in the garden. Zondra gave him a raised eyebrow, but started toward Sarah, her expression softening.
"Hey Walker. What's the problem? Everything OK?" Sarah spun to look at her, seeming to relax a little bit at seeing her friend. She let out a huff, looking up at the sky before walking to close the distance to Zondra.
"Yeah. It's just been… a lot. This last assclown really got under my skin and I'm trying to walk it off. Clear my head ya know? I'm trying my best to give all of these guys a fair chance but…"
"No. No, I get it. Believe me. I've watched all their audition tapes, and while, personally, some of these guys make my skin crawl, Roan and I chose them for a reason. We're not going to tell you who to vote for, but we made some assumptions. People need villains to root against. These creeps will offer stark contrast to the "good guys" in the group. People will rally behind you when you toss the bad ones. That will solidify the viewer's relationship with you. That way when you weed out some contestants that they feel are "good guys", they'll still stay loyal to you. So long as you aren't cruel, which I don't see happening." Zondra reassuringly squeezed Sarah's arm, giving her a warm smile.
"I get it. If they were all equally 'nice', it would be harder to choose and make me look like a bitch," Sarah snorted. Zondra couldn't help but chuckle.
"Hey. Chin up. The last one is just around that corner. I can't tell you that I've saved the best for last, but..." Zondra trailed off, giving Sarah a wink. Sarah rolled her eyes at her friend, not entirely sure if she was being serious or if she was teasing her. She had already endured conversations with so many men today, it was all a whirl in her mind. They seemed to blur together. A few stood out, either very good or very bad, but most were just ...blah. She had a pretty good idea of the ones that would be the first go, so that wouldn't be too hard, although she still had one more guy to meet. She would just take it one day at a time. At least she had Zondra around to help keep her sane.
"Ok. Let's get this over with. Bring on the sacrificial lamb," Sarah teased, sticking her tongue between her teeth. She and Zondra had a laugh as she headed back to her spot to meet the final contestant.
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Chuck dutifully stayed by Zondra's assistant, Sydney as it turns out, but couldn't help but pace around her like a caged animal. Zondra had gone up the path ahead of them because of some hold up in filming. Chuck's mind ran through dozens of possible scenarios, each one more ludicrous than the next. His mind kept settling on the celebrity having had enough and was done meeting people. Or, maybe she'd already made up her mind on a contestant and didn't need to meet any more. Having seen all the other contestants, he felt that was quite likely the case. They were all very handsome, well put together and likely successful men. Out of the twenty-four she had already met, one of them was likely to have caught her eye.
He stopped in his tracks, stared up at the sky and let out a long sigh. He could just hear his sister now, berating him for the thoughts in his head. Maybe she was right, or … his assumption of Ellie's argument was right. He was conceding defeat before he had even gotten a chance at bat. He promised that he would take this seriously, so he needed to stop second guessing himself. A celebrity would want someone who was confident, self-assured and could hold their own in the limelight. That thought did nothing to curb the butterflies in his stomach, but it was the truth. Anyone who dated a celebrity would have to spend some time under the watchful eye of the media, even if they were just arm candy. Chuck snorted at the idea of him as "arm candy" of any sort. What the hell sort of candy would he be? A Necco wafer? A Good & Plenty?
"OK. We're ready to go," came a voice from behind him, causing him to jump. Zondra just gave him an amused look, an eyebrow raised in question. "You OK?"
"No. No, not really. I'm sure it'll make for a great gag reel though," he confessed, shrugging his shoulders with a self-deprecating smile.
"Remember. You have nothing to be nervous about. Just be yourself." She gestured down the pathway, encouraging him to go.
"That hasn't really worked out for me up to this point, but thanks." He gave her a genuine smile, appreciative of her attempts to make him feel more at ease. He stood up straight and started down the pathway.
As he proceeded, he thought of anything that could offer him courage. Any other times in his life when he had been in similar situations that he could draw strength from. He recalled his time at the Buy More, working through high school and college. He had met hundreds of strangers and didn't have any trouble talking to them. He put on his mask, his customer service 'persona', and did his job. He had been very good at that job too. He didn't have that name badge or pocket protector to hide behind now, but perhaps the skills could still be of use.
As he rounded the turn in the path, he could see the bright lights bathing the pathway, highlighting his destination.
"OK, Chuck. Don't freak out and for God's sake don't trip," he whispered to himself as he continued down the path.
A/N: It's not really a cliffhanger. You know who's at the end of the path. Although, he doesn't, so for him, I guess it's a cliffhanger. Sorry Chuck. You're almost there, Buddy.
I want to say how overwhelming the support for this story has been. Thank you all so much for your comments. I promise you, I have read them all. I'm sorry that I have not had time to reply to each of you, but I spend most of my free time writing this story. So, a resounding "Thank you!" to everyone. Please keep 'em coming.