Page 31 of Fan Favorite

“Don’t you have a shred of loyalty, man?”

“C’mon, dawg, calm down.” The way he saiddawg, like he was mocking him. “This is good TV. Think of all the women across America who are going to be so in love with this love story.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. She leaves tonight.”

“Definitely not,” Peter said, straightening to his full height. He had one fucking inch on Bennett. At most! Asshole. “She stays. We’re doing a storyline.”

“Then I’ll fucking leave,” Bennett said, already looking for an exit that wasn’t blocked by a camera or lighting rig.

Peter stepped closer to him. “Let’s not go down this road, all right? We’ve already been over your contract. I’m sure you remember you’re on the hook for—what is it, three million? Or four?—if you don’t complete the season. And, seriously, you don’t want me to call Carole Steele, who owns half the media outlets in America—I’m sure you can imagine what she’s gonna do if you don’t play ball. So, let’s just cut the shit. It’s you and me, all right?” Peter turned and yelled to a PA. “Can we get a drink over here?” He smiled at Bennett like they were friends. “What do you want?”

“Bourbon,” Bennett said despite himself. “And not the cheap shit you give the girls. And a Smartwater.”

“Can we get a nice bourbon and a Smartwater over here, please,” Peter yelled to a PA. “Listen, I know this feels shitty. I do,” he said, turning back to Bennett. “And we don’t like to do it this way, either, but it’s just how the sausage gets made. And let’s keep it in perspective. There are worse things than having a girl you actually know, who you actually trust, looking out for you.”

Bennett, through clenched teeth, said, “I don’t know her, Peter.”

“Of course you do. You’ve known her your whole life. People don’t ever really change.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Is that a threat?”

“What iswhatsupposed to mean?” Peter cocked his head and looked at Bennett like he was crazy. “And is what a threat?”

“You think I’m real fucking stupid, don’t you?”

“I’m going to need you to be more specific. Because if you’re asking if I knew you were a big nerd in high school and changed your name, then get over yourself, Bennett. Everyone was a fucking nerd in high school. You don’t think your background check told me that a month ago? Calm down. That’s not the story we’re trying to tell. Here’s your drink.”

Bennett took the whiskey and drank it fast. Then he did the same with the water, because chugging Smartwater was better than triggering his asthma in front of this fucking prick. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

It made sense that Peter would’ve already known at least some of this. Still.

“How am I supposed to trust you when you do shit like this?” Bennett said finally. “I’m not going to let you play me on live television.”

“First of all, we’re not live—”

“I’m not kidding, Peter. I will slap the shit out of you.”

“Bennett, c’mon,” Peter said, shaking Bennett lightly by the shoulders. “Why do you think I want you to look like an asshole? How does that help me? I want you to be Prince mother-fucking Charming in this motherfucking fairy tale. And to do that, I need you to man up, stop whining, and charm the shit out of the girls for all the housewives, gays, and preteens of America. Can you do that for me?”

Bennett pictured Edie looking at him with those big puppy dog eyes, which normally would’ve turned him on—he loved that kind of open adoration—but instead just filled him with shame. He was sweating now in places no man should sweat; even his feet felt slide-y in these stupid loafers.

“Why should I?” Bennett said, the reasonable part of him embarrassed by the petulance in his voice.

“Because the entire world is going to love you for it,” Peter exclaimed, his eyes shining a little too brightly. “When you treat Edie with the same love and respect you give the rest of the girls, you’re gonna look like the sweet, stand-up guy America loves. And when we make her over and send you on your Cinderella fantasy date, you’re gonna be like, ‘What’s that sound?’ Oh shit, it’s panties dropping all over the world. And when—eventually—you send her home because you’re different people now, it’ll be beautiful and real and nostalgic, and they’ll love you even more when you find your wife with whatever interchangeable influencer you choose. So how about you give me some credit—I know how to make good TV. I know how to make you look like a fucking king.” Peter paused and took a step back. They locked eyes. “And I also know how to make you look like a real fucking dick. Know what I mean?”

Bennett knew Peter was referencing the incident in the hall when he’d yelledGet that fucking camera out of my face!And then, if that wasn’t enough, when Bennett had shoved thecamera, and also Greg, unfortunately. That one second of footage was enough for Peter to edit Bennett into the kind of guy who yelled and pushed and became unhinged. For the rest of his life, he’d be swearing to everyone he wasnot that guy. He was anice guywith abad edit.

“The girls are already pissed off—if we have a key ceremony, I’m really gonna look like an asshole,” Bennett said.

“Nah.” Peter clapped Bennett on the shoulder. “Eliminations are just part of it. The women of America don’t blame you for that. Want me to send Makeup over for that neck?”

Bennett’s skin felt prickly all over. “Is it all red?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

It’s not like Bennett had been operating under the illusion that Peter had his best interests at heart. Peter was just some know-it-all prick. But before Edie’s arrival, Bennett felt at least like they were playing for the same team. But as the makeup artist attempted to calm the Rorschach test blooming across Bennett’s neck and chest, it became crystal-clear that no one gave a fuck about his love story. And that any misstep would be used against him. What the hell was he supposed to do? There was no way out. The only way was through. So, Bennett let them powder his neck and guide him back to the living room for the key ceremony.

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