The Bachelor - H.S.

Chapter 3

I pick a casual short black dress and pair it with a jean jacket and a pair of white sneakers. I see no need to dress up for the next part of the date and I honestly can't be bothered. My feet need at least a day to recuperate from the strain my sky-high heels put on them last night.

Thankfully, Harry and Astrid were out the rest of the day while the remaining girls, including me, were forced to stay at the house. Well, the other girls were forced, I gladly obliged and took a nap as soon as I returned.

I would have expected that the producers would be more hands on in managing us, getting interviews and creating drama, but they seem to just be letting things happen, then filming them. Maybe they have done something and they're just so good that I don't realize it. Either way, living here feels a lot more natural and a lot less scripted than I expected.

However, they did lay down some ground rules before we boarded our limos last night. It seems like so long ago now, but its barely been 24 hours.

1: There is to be no violence whatsoever. Any physical fighting resulting in injury will get you kicked straight off the show,

2: No social media or technology is allowed to be used during filming. They're afraid spoilers will get out and they're probably right to be,

3: No contestant is allowed to visit Harry's apartment alone, without explicitly getting permission from a producer. Even permission from Harry himself isn't enough. It's a strange rule, but I guess I can see why they'd impose it. Don't want any of the girls getting one up's over each other.

I look to the clock. There's only 5 minutes before we're supposed to be leaving.

"Shit." I whisper as I notice Kiana is already gone. I race down the stairs and out the front door to see the last girl boarding the limo.

"Oh, god, Charlotte. Sorry, forgot about you." A producer who introduced herself as Molly earlier apologizes, coming up to me and ushering me into the limo. I remain silent instead of carrying out the snarky comment I want to make.

I squeeze in between Jessica and Tanya and don't bother to try to make conversation. Instead, I just stare out the window and keep my knees pressed together. All the girls are buzzing with excitement, while I sit, slightly bored. I'm looking forward to the free booze that will be available to me very soon and maybe, just a tiny bit, to joking around with Harry. But mostly the alcohol.

We arrive sooner than I thought we would and as I step outside I realize it's already dark. We're standing in front of a tall building, completely covered in windows. I can see lights twinkling far above on what I assume is the roof.

One of the producers gets out of the passenger seat of the limo and escorts us inside. We're all squished into a stuffy elevator and I'm pressed harshly up against the wall as we climb 20 stories. We finally reach the top and I have to admit the elevator ride was worth it. It's some sort of garden-terrace hybrid, with a bar off to the side and a couple couches scattered here and there. Lights hang from the branches of different vines climbing a variety of structures- the view is impeccable.

I look around in wonder while the rest of the girls rush off to another part of the roof. The producers haven't told them to and I wonder why they left, but continue to examine the beautiful scene in front of me instead of investigating. I can see there's a path by the bar leading somewhere out of my view and a large swing off to the left, nearly hidden by the immense greenery.

It's been a fair amount of time before I look to my right and try to figure out what the other girls practically ran at when we arrived on the roof. I see they're all crowding around an overwhelmed Harry.