The Eligible

Eventual Jade/Beck

Week 1

Jade cannot believe it when she hears the words. This is beyond being stunned, she thinks; in fact, it causes pure rage to course through her veins, causes her adrenaline to pump, causes her eyes to narrow into slits as she glares over at her best friend. "You what?"

"I just told you, silly," Cat says with a giggle. "I signed you up for that new reality show The Eligibles. I mean, like you always say, you're single and ready to mingle, and I think it's time you found someone! You know, I've got Robbie, and you've got… no one, really." She frowns, and Jade is certain that her deed had been with the best intentions, but that doesn't make it any less horrifying.

"Cat," Jade replies from between gritted teeth. "The whole point of 'single and ready to mingle' is that I don't want anybody. I'm just fine on my own."

"Aw, come on, Jade," Cat pleads, widening her brown eyes in an attempt at sympathy. "I know you'll have fun. There's this big hotel that they've reserved just for the show, and you'll get to be on TV, the center of attention, and I know how much you love that. Also the guy they picked for this season is really good-looking, and I hear he's super nice. I'm sure you'll have a good time!"

"With a bunch of stick-thin, big-boobed blondes? No thank you," Jade retorts. "I'm ninety-nine percent sure that the guy will take one look at me and ask me to leave."

"No, see, this is the funny part," Cat tells her with a giggle. "On this show, the guy helps to choose the contestants, and he chose you. If you accept, which you absolutely have to, then you're on the show for sure. And please, Jade – you've got to go!"

"I don't think reality shows are for me," Jade begins, but she's cut off once again by Cat.

"Jade," Cat whines, her big eyes boring down into Jade's. "You get paid?"

"How much?" Jade questions.

"I think it's something like a couple thousand?" Cat says, tapping lightly on her own chin as if she is in deep speculation. "But maybe less, maybe more, I'm not really sure. They do pay you for your time, though! I think it's ah -leegal not to."

Jade doesn't even bother correcting Cat's pronunciation for once. Instead, she just shakes her head. "Fine, fine. I'll go. But one question… how did you get all this information to apply for me anyway?"

"You really shouldn't leave your wallet lying around," Cat says with an apathetic shrug and then, with a casual smirk, the girl is bouncing off. It is funny, Jade thinks, how a girl so naïve and adorable can be so conniving at the very same time. It seems like an oxymoron, almost. But this is different – she has just connived Jade into accepting a position on a dating reality show, when in reality, Jade doesn't even date, like at all, ever. The last time she went on a date was in her first year of high school, and she spilled her soda all over the guy's pants when he tried to kiss her. (It was totally an accident, except it really wasn't.)

How can a terrifying girl who is so deathly afraid of relationships survive on a dating show? She doesn't know the answer to that. But she supposes she'll find out soon enough.

Six weeks, she thinks, scanning the letter that Cat had shoved into her hands. Six weeks and her doom begins, six weeks until she becomes an actual superstar and changes the course of the whole world.

Just six more weeks.

.

On the way there, she blasts music. Her suitcases are piled high into the trunk, all the things she figures she'll need during this week of torture, including an endless supply of headphones, earplugs, and other such devices. Jade hates noise when she is not the one causing it.

But it is fine when she's cruising down the road, windows rolled down, half a confident (yeah, right) smile on her face, screaming the words to a song she must have heard twice in the past few minutes. She tries not to think of what waits for her at the end of the road, of her inevitable future, of how she will be expected to impress a guy she has never met before and knows nothing of aside from the fact that, according to Cat, he is 'good-looking' and 'super nice'. These two traits already mean that Jade will repulse him at first sight.

She laughs quietly to herself as she imagines herself turning this whole competition upside down. They are probably used to the bottle blondes and thin bodies parading through their shows; this girl (a challenge, or so she likes to think of herself) is quite the opposite. She is harsh contrast where they are light pastels; she is dark scowls where they are pasty smiles; she is hard while they are soft. And yet she has never really cared before.

It turns out, though, that Cat was, in fact, right about the hotel. It was a modest thing on the outside, only consisting of about two or three floors (for, Jade assumed, the staff and contestants, the eligible got his own pad next door). The length of the hotel was very spacious anyway, and a pool on the outside (accompanied by an incredibly alluring hot tub) only raised her opinion of her new residence all the more.

"Name?" questioned a lady with a clipboard, walking up to her and raising an eyebrow.

"Jade West," Jade answers, reaching into her wallet to produce an ID. "I do hope you check these. Identify fraud is such a widespread problem, and it would be so irresponsible of you not to check." The 'poor, innocent girl' looks flustered, which makes Jade laugh. "Anyway – what am I meant to be doing?"

"Over there, you'll be filming your introductory segment." The girl in front of her motions to a bunch of men with clipboards and cameras, all of them looking extremely professional. "Once that's all done– well, I guess you would say, the show is on, no? Everyone will be upstairs. We can all meet each other and all that, and then, soon, we'll be introducing the eligible on live TV." The girl winks at her. "I hear he's like, crazy hot."

It's not the first time she has heard this, and she resists the urge to roll her eyes. Doubt it, she wants to say, but instead she just nods her head stiffly. "Got it."

"So you'll be doing your makeup and all first," the lady informs her, motioning at a trailer, "and then you'll be filming, so I hope you will prepare what you're going to say; looking sloppy on live television at the start of the show is not a particularly good move. But best of luck to you, anyway!"

Jade mutters something about the woman under her breath, and then, with a scowl on her face, stalks over to the trailer. There are a bunch of preppy-looking girls gathered around the trailer, all of them squealing, and Jade resists the urge to strangle them all. She ducks in and plops down on the chair, her face set into a frown.

"Well," the lady inside says in a dark tone of voice, "aren't you an interesting one. Definitely not our typical romantic sort of girl. But sit down, dear – we'll have you looking spiffy in no time."

Jade is not quite convinced that she wants to be made into the spiffy sort of girl, but she plops down into a chair anyway, wincing as the lady brings out a huge tub of makeup. But she bites down on her lip, remembers that she's getting paid and she's doing this for Cat anyway, and lets the lady do her worst. Which, of course, she does.

Soon Jade is peering at her reflection in the mirror, at the wisps of dark hair that are falling down to frame her face and the pink – pink – makeup they've piled on her eyelids, making her look more like a fish than a normal girl. This can't be legal, she thinks bitterly, spinning to face the woman who is standing behind her, an appraising look on her face.

"I don't think this really goes with my image," Jade informs her, biting back all the harsh comments that come to her lips – she'll save those for later.

"I think you look simply precious," replies the lady as she glances at Jade's face. "Though you're right, those clothes don't really fit with the pink, but of course we can fix that…"

"I don't think you understand," Jade responds, a frown etching its way into her face. "I don't want to be all pink and prim and pretty. I would much rather just be me, thanks."

"But honey," the lady responds, looking concerned, "don't you want Beck to like you?"

Beck. Beck. It is the first time she's heard his name, and she is certain that it won't be the last. As terrible as it seems, she is stuck here – stuck here with a multitude of preps and this apparently drool-worthy boy named Beck – and she does not want to be a suck-up, does not want to prance around in pretty pink dresses in some misguided attempt to get him to notice her. So she shakes her head. "No," she says darkly, "if he doesn't like me for who I am, then I don't want him to like me at all."

Then she stubbornly wipes all the makeup off of her eyes. The lady in front of her gasps.

.

Not ten minutes later, she finds herself in front of a camera, lounging on a couch, arms crossed, eyes narrowed into a glare. It is obvious already what image they have decided to give her; the couch, after all, is made of black leather, and the second makeup artist they'd sent her to had done her up with smoky eyes that seemed almost as if they were on fire. The leather jacket they've shoved her into and the fake nails they've layered on her fingers are just further proof that they want her to be the resident bad girl. As if. Jade West is no stereotype, and this interview, she thinks, is going to prove it.

"So," the man in front of her, a stereotypical host, says, "Your name is Jade West?"

"Yes," is her abrupt response.

"And you're twenty years old and single?" he continues, obviously leading somewhere.

"Yes. Is there a problem with that?" she hisses, narrowing her eyes at the man.

"No, no, of course not," the man answers, his eyes widening; it is obvious he has never dealt with girls like Jade before. "Just, um, anyway… where exactly are you from?"

"I'm from LA, but I currently live in New York City," she replies. "Until, of course, I got sent back to LA to do this dumb show."

"So it wasn't your decision to sign up for this show?" the man prods, looking interested. Of course, she thinks, people like him, low lives like him, are interested in any sort of gossip they can dig up, and this is certainly big news. She hates this show already, hates everyone on it.

"No," she says briskly, deciding to air out her so-called 'dirty laundry' for everyone to see before the other idiots on this show can get their hands on it (and then, honestly, she will have nothing to hide). "My best friend Cat signed me up because she says I need to get a boyfriend. Boys are scared of me, can you believe it?" She laughs humorlessly. "Anyway, I just came cause I get paid."

"Very honest," he says, but the fear – and the trepidation – are evident in his expression. "So, Jade West, are you excited to meet the eligible?"

"Honestly?" Jade questions, but she quickly continues with, "No. I'm really not. If he's anything like the guys off of those other dumb reality shows, he'll be conceited and a player and not worthy of my time. Like I said – I'm only here for the money and so I can mess things up. But hey, it could be fun to bring down that conceited rich boy a few notches – if you know what I mean." She grins, baring her mouth of bright, pearly teeth, and making the man shudder in fear.

"Um, well, thank you for your time, Miss West," the man says, then shuts off the camera. "I'm fairly sure that's all we'll need, but we will see you back down here for dinner and the grand presentation of the eligible. You can collect your room key at the front desk."

"Much appreciated," Jade calls. They've already taken her stuff to her room (thankfully), and she actually does have her own room (another good thing) so she won't have to deal with the girls on this show more than she has to. But ten minutes of sitting in her room texting her insipid best friend proves to become tedious, and so she decides to slip down into the lobby just to see the collection of girls that she'll be competing against.

A few of them are blonde, though not as many as she had imagined, and some are brunette with blonde highlights. Most of them, though, shoot her dark glares upon seeing her; she's not sure if it's because she's hot (which she most certainly is) or because she's – for all intents and purposes – terrifying. With a smirk, she seats herself on the sofa next to a dark-haired girl with her hair piled into a bun.

"You must be Jade West," the girl says in a dry voice, casting a glance over at Jade. "The whole studio's been in a buzz about you and your 'bad attitude' or whatever. Apparently you're not sucking up to the studio or to this Beck kid, and I admire that. Sophia, by the way."

"That would be me," Jade replies in a disinterested tone. "Looks like we've got the basic collection here. Girls desperate for fame and love. Such a pity."

"I'm just here for the free food and the nice hotel," Sophia tells her with a shrug. One glance over at the brunette tells Jade that the girl is gorgeous, beyond gorgeous in fact, like supermodel gorgeous, but she doesn't seem interested in sucking up to the producers or to Beck whatever. She thinks they might just get along.

And then an annoying voice penetrates her ears.

"Oh my gosh," a girl squeals. "There's like, only thirty more minutes, and I'm excited. This is going to be fun, I think." And then, with a glance over at Jade – "Hey, aren't you that mean girl they were talking about before? Jade East?"

"Jade West, thanks," Jade replies with a roll of her eyes. "And I'm not mean. I'm just honest, unlike some people here."

The collective intake of breath that comes from all over the room is pleasing. Jade has to smile, and all the more as the questioner's face falls once again. It is evident already that she is fake, and even more evident that the two of them won't get along. She makes an angry face. "Come on, you don't have to be rude. We're all going to be here together for the next few weeks, right? We could at least try and make an effort! Personally, I think it's going to be fun. Beck's so hot, and I'm sure he'll like me."

Jade wants to tell her that the only way that Beck would like her is if she had on a mask (and didn't speak, for that matter), but she keeps her mouth clamped shut and her beady eyes on the dark-headed chick. The girl just smiles nervously back at her. "Hey," she says brightly, "I think you're pretty too; don't worry! You definitely have a chance."

Jade wants to laugh, and she can hear titters all over the room, probably courtesy of the stuck-up blondes. She wants to tell this chick that she doesn't have a chance with Beck because she doesn't want to, because this definitely wasn't a voluntary sort of thing, because Beck is going to be just like every other guy and anyway hardly anyone ever finds love on reality shows because they aren't even real anyway (totally defeating the actual purpose of reality shows). But once again, she just rolls her eyes. "Thanks… uh…"

"Tori," the too-bright girl says with a grin. "My name's Tori Vega."

"Whatever. Thanks, Vega." And then she turns back to Sophia with a roll of her eyes and wonders if it's possible to go to sleep in a room where the chattering is incessant and the average IQ is probably 55 (or lower, possibly).

But it's too late, because someone bursts in screaming about how it's time for lunch and they ought to hurry if they want to get good seats. She doesn't get a good glance at the girl, but she sees a bunch of honey and caramel curls and dark brown eyes, and she knows already that this girl is obnoxious too.

They all file into a room that must be the grand dining hall of their fancy hotel. A stage is placed at one side, and on the other, there are a multitude of tables, all covered in shiny white tablecloths. Jade is sure to sit as far away from Tori as possible, which means she gets stuck at a table with a bunch of whiny girls – and Sophia, which is good, but still, she thinks she might end up the talk of the town because of her murderous tendencies. And – shocker – on live TV.

As soon as they sit down, picking up their utensils to dig into their fresh green salads (do they think that these girls are fat? Jade wonders, because she doesn't see a single fat girl in the whole room), the obnoxious curly-haired girl stands up and starts screaming. The rest of the room follows suit – all except Jade and Sophia, who rolls her eyes. "Beck's here," she mouths.

Jade notices, especially as the dark-haired boy ascends to the stage, a half-smile plastered upon his supermodel-esque face. He's good-looking; she's not going to lie. But she has a feeling already that he's not her type.

He grins out at the crowd. "Oh, hey, hey! How's everyone doing? My name's Beck Oliver, and yes, I am the eligible one – funny, right? I see some lovely ladies out there and I'm looking forward to getting to know you all, even if it is only for a short time."

Jade's mouth falls open; she had, of course, forgotten that the first night of the show, a few girls were chosen to be sent home. She could go home before the drama started, before anything went down really, before she had the chance to be bad-mouthed and constantly rejected by this Beck Oliver kid – or worse, pursued by him. It was like a dream come true. But did she really want to go home so early in the competition, to be embarrassed like that? Her infamy had paved a way for her already; if she stayed in the competition, her fame would only rise. She shrunk down in her seat.

"For introductions today, since this is a new show and all, we've decided to do it a new way," Beck called out cheerfully. "I'm going to call out the names and the person will stand on stage while their intro clip is played – and might I add, the intro clips are edited, which was necessary for some of you." People laugh; Jade wants to roll her eyes. "Okay, let's go! First up is Rachel Block."

As the girl with jet-black hair meanders her way up on stage, Jade wonders if the stereotype of beach blonde-washed girls on reality shows like this one is a myth. A lot of the girls seem fairly nervous, but then there are the confident ones, the ones that honestly believe they have a chance at winning this thing, and Jade might think they were right if there weren't multiple girls.

Tori Vega is called – "Hi, guys, I'm Tori Vega! I'm from LA," Jade wants to groan because how is this girl from the same city as her, "and I'm really excited to get this chance. I wanna be a singer, I think. I love music! I'm so excited to get to know Beck – and everyone else here, of course." – and then the curly-headed, obnoxious brunette, who ends up, of course, being Tori's older sister, probably placed on there so that there could be drama on the show. Trina Vega, she is named, and she exudes an odd sort of confidence despite her obvious lack of manners or anything of the sort; her intro clip shows this.

Then some blonde chick called Elle Weathers is called, and finally it is Jade's turn. She is last, which bodes well for her; it is always the last one that people remember the most. She struts in stage, her confidence spilling from her half-smile, half-smirk, and she stands next to Beck, who, much to her dismay, doesn't pee his pants. She smirks all the more as her intro clip is played, but he still does not shudder, even when she speaks about him. Instead, there is an odd sort of light in his eyes, as if he is taking this as a challenge rather than a threat. Well, she thinks, at least it's a challenge she will win.

Beck looks bewildered, much to her happiness, and she hands the microphone back to him, going to take her seat beside the unbearable Trina Vega, who simply gives her a disgusted glare. Down the line, Sophia is stifling a laugh behind her hands, and Jade thinks it's nice that she has found someone just as annoyed with this sorry excuse for a show as she is.

They are all expected to sit, now, at one large table – in alphabetical order, of course, in a clockwise order, with Beck at the end, which means that Jade is beside Trina (again) with Beck on her other side, and a bunch of jabbering chicks across from her. She rolls her eyes and sinks down in her chair, hoping that at least the menu is good tonight.

"You look nice." The words spill from the boy's mouth, and Jade glances up to see that he's talking to her.

She rolls her eyes. "You don't have to talk to me."

"You're on this show, Jade," Beck replies calmly, and Jade is startled to realize that he has already memorized her name – an odd feat for someone who has the names of twenty-four girls to remember. "You might as well get to know me."

"Or you could just send me home tonight and get it over with," she sneers. He locks eyes with her – dark eyes, full of determination and mirth – and she knows that he won't.

"I'm Beck Oliver," he tells her again in a soft tone. "And I'm from LA. It's nice to meet you."

Ugh, she thinks, because she is not supposed to like him. She is supposed to think he's conceited and a jerk – which he is, he has to be, because he's on this dumb reality show, but the way he's talking to her, the way he's looking at her, makes her wonder, and – no. She won't.

"I'd tell you my name, but you already know it. Oh, and by the way? This show sucks already."

Beck laughs and looks like he's going to say something, but he's interrupted by Trina Vega, who, in her desperation, has decided to cut into Jade and Beck's conversation. "I'm Trina," she says in a manner that is probably meant to be sultry. "I have like, Mexican blood in me. Or something."

"Latina," Tori interrupts patiently from beside her.

"Yeah," Trina says, casting a glare back at her sister, and then she purrs, "Areba."

Beck looks confused – disturbed, even – much to her amusement, but before she can even laugh, the people in charge yell that they're going to switch seats now and she is maneuvered down the table, where there is the 'main course' – which, it seems, consists of tiny pieces of chicken. With a roll of her eyes, Jade picks up a piece of chicken and pops it in her mouth, which seems to scandalize Trina.

"Oh my gosh!" Trina reprimands. "Do you know how much fat is in that one piece of chicken? Like, honestly, it would take about twenty minutes of walking – running even – to burn off –"

"Shut up," Jade cuts her off, grabbing another piece of chicken and defiantly popping it into her mouth as well. Trina's jaw drops, and Jade has a feeling that this is going to be a long couple of weeks – or, if Beck does vote her off, a long night.

After their meager dinner, they are each sent in for a one-on-one chat with Beck that typically lasts about 5 minutes. Of course, this is done in alphabetical order as well, so Jade watches, Sophia on one side, as the girls parade in and out of the room, each of them with some stupid glow about them as if they are certain already that they are going to be the selected girl. Jade hates them all.

Once Sophia heads in, Tori Vega ventures over to her. "Hey, Jade."

"Bye," is Jade's response.

"Come on," Tori says with a frown. "You look lonely and unhappy to be here, so, I mean, I don't wanna be rude or anything, but why are you here?"

"My best friend thinks I'm going to be single forever," Jade snaps, not even looking at the other girl. "So I'm stuck here until Beck Oliver decides to do me a favor and send me away from you people."

"Oh," Tori says, looking frightened, and Jade thinks it's rather funny how innocent this girl is. She is nearly as innocent as Cat, and there's something to be said about that. "Well, I don't think it's fair to be rude to all of us. Some of us need the money, you know."

"Says the girl who is living in LA."

"So are you," Tori points out. Jade is slightly amazed at her brevity in this remark; she had thought Tori the spineless sort of pretty girl. Perhaps – perhaps – she had underestimated her. "But whatever, Jade. I'm trying to be nice, okay, but obviously you're not up for it. But hey, find me if you ever need someone, okay?"

Jade's second impression of the girl is that she is like, way too nice.

After Trina comes out, prancing and squealing about how Beck had practically proposed already (yeah, right, Jade thinks, like anyone would ever want to marry Trina), Jade is sent in. She walks in, arms crossed, face set in a scowl, and raises an eyebrow at the dark-haired boy. "What do you want?"

"Hey, Jade." Still no fear anywhere in his face. It's starting to bother her. He is the picture of quiet confidence, smile on his face, mirth in his eyes, laughter in his voice, and he won't stop staring at her as she takes the seat across from him (only because she is too lazy to stand up). "So, tell me about yourself."

"I hate you."

He hums. "Mmhmm. I'm fairly certain you're supposed to be telling me stuff I don't already know." Oddly enough, she kind of likes this sass – this wit – that he has conjured up; scarcely does anyone ever talk back to her, and she enjoys bickering with people.

"Well," she says hotly, "I hate bras that hook in the front, the color yellow, tuna fish, flowers, giggling, the word 'panties', cilantro, rainbows, ducks – man, I hate ducks – cramps, string cheese, clocks – "

He cuts her off with a small laugh. "I get it; you hate everything."

"No." Her voice is saturated with even more determination than before. "I don't hate everything, all right? If I hated everything, that would make me predictable, and I am far from predictable. So, in addition to hating things, I also love. I love bunnies, for example, and don't laugh, either. I love coffee. When I was little, I used to say that I wanted to marry a man like coffee."

He grins and runs a hand through his hair – his dark, coffee-colored hair – oh crap. "I love coffee too, coincidentally. I'm not really awake in the morning until I have my coffee. I like it black with two sugars."

She blinks, eyes wide. "Weird. I like mine that way too."

"Weird coincidence," he says, but he doesn't look as if he thinks it's a coincidence at all; instead, he is smiling at her, a smile that makes its way to his eyes and makes him look even handsomer than the first time she saw him, a smile that makes her think that maybe she has a chance, and really she shouldn't even want one, shouldn't even want to stay on any longer than she has to, shouldn't even find him attractive or alluring in the first place.

When she gets out of the room, though, Sophia asks her how it went, and she replies with a simple, "Terrible," which makes Sophia laugh.

It's a lie. Jade has to wonder when she became so very dishonest.

.

The ceremony is late that night – well, around midnight, and all the girls are yawning. Beck has twenty roses set in front of him in a straight line and a smile on his face, like he has already decided, like he knows these girls well enough after one night to have decided their fates, their futures. He is cocky, Jade realizes, just as she had predicted.

The host steps up. "Welcome back, girls, to tonight's ceremony. I hate that we have to send people home, really, but alas, this is the nature of the show." He pauses for laughter that Jade is certain will not come. "Anyway, I'm turning it over to Beck to announce the twenty girls that will be staying till next week."

Beck grins and takes the microphone. "Hey, everyone. It's been really nice to meet you all, but I have, in fact, come to a decision. When I call your name, please come take a rose. Ally Dawson, Jade West…"

Jade freezes in her spot. Had he just said Jade West? It can't be, and especially not in the second spot, but he's grinning maniacally at her, and so she is expected to go take a rose, amid his continuation of his list – "Tori Vega, Marnie Fabola, Melanie Jimenez…". She stands awkwardly beside the girl called Ally Dawson, a girl with big brown eyes and a kind smile, and on her other side stands Laura Carson, a girl who sends her a conspiratorial wink – does she know her?

She is staying another week. It takes another minute to sink in. Beck Oliver likes her enough to keep her around another week, despite her efforts to keep her away. This, she thinks, is odd; since when had any guy taken an interest in Jade?

But she will do it, she will stick around, because she is strong and hey, maybe this won't be so bad after all. (However, it has nothing to do with Beck. Seriously.)

The girls who are going home look downright devastated. Tara Ganz, some ganky blonde, begins to weep after her name is not called, and Hope Quincy throws a toddler-worthy temper tantrum. Erica Stevens and Chelsea Grant just nod in despair and let tears trail down their faces like pathetic little puppy dogs. She is glad to have them out of here, though Tara's ganky brunette friend Hayley is staying – much to her dismay. It seems that she can never fully win.

The challenge is on, though, she realizes. Perhaps this show has nothing to do with survival skills, but they are certainly necessary – and Jade is going to do it, she is going to survive, to show these girls up. And so, once she returns to her room, she calls Cat.

"Hey, Cat. I'm staying another week. Probably longer, actually."

.

A/N: loool my life. Kudos to you if you catch the references to other show(s). hopefully you enjoyed this I blame Britt and Rachel. Updates (as always) will be sporadic at best but reviews always encourage me (hint hint). Please review if you enjoyed and I'm sorry this is bad. BTW it's not supposed to be exactly like the Bachelor; inaccuracies are intentional