NOTE: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE CELEBRITIES IN THIS STORY NOR AM I AFFLICATED WITH VH1 OR ANY REALITY SHOW. I DO NOT OWN CRISS ANGEL AND HAVE NO PERSONAL TIES TO HIM OR HIS MANAGEMENT... (ALTHOUGH THAT WOULD BE SWEET, LMAO!) I DO HOWEVER OWN ALL THE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY. PLEASE ENJOY AND IF YOU READ I WOULD LOVE IT IF YOU REVIEWED! THANKS AGAIN!

ALWAYS,

DEPPDEPENDANT

Blurred Reality

You Have No New Matches

Believe it or not that isn't the first time I've read that.

You Have 85 New Matches

What?!

I scrolled down the page on my lap top and raised a single eyebrow.

Skank. I muttered as I reviewed the dating profile of a seemingly easy women. On to the next.

Wow… nice tits… are you easy or what?

Next.

No, learn how to spell the word "illusion".

Next.

Hell no!

Oh my God…

"Alright, I'm done. Fuck this." Slamming my lap top shut I stretched my legs out on my bed and reached for my cell phone. I had to call J.D. back about mom. No, correction, I really needed to call J.D. back about mom.

"Hey, Bro. Sup?" I responded his sharp 'hello'.

"Hey." J.D. nearly growled into the phone. What was up his ass this morning?

"How's mom doing?" I cut to the chase while I fidgeted around a bit the cord to my laptop.

J.D. was a talker. I should have just called my mom myself, but then again I didn't want to hear another infamous lecture on how I let her down by signing up for another Season of Mindfreak. It's not that she didn't support me in my craft, don't get me wrong. She always backed me up 100% but I think she was just getting tired off me putting her under pressure with my health always being on razor blades.

"She's alright. She just had to follow up with the doctor about her heart. Everything is FINE. Don't stress out. They gave her a perfectly clean bill." J.D. replied.

My phone beeped informing me that I had another call.

"Hey, let me call you back. I've got someone on the other line." I clicked over.

"Hello?"

"Criss?" I knew the voice the moment it reached my eardrum. In a way I almost wished I didn't recognize it.

"What's going on Mark?" I questioned trying not to pick up my brothers agitated tone.

"VH1 called me today and they wanted me to bring up an offer to you. It might sound ridiculous but in the long run I think it will help your career and possibly your love life?" Mark began to explain.

I cleared my throat. "Love life? What is this some bullshit reality gig?"

Mark chuckled so hard I had to pull my cell phone away from my ear. "Actually…"

"There's no way in hell!" I shock my head as I flipped my laptop open again.

Mark continued to stammer on and on about monetary figures that VH1 would supposedly contribute to my bank and the time length of the show. I let him talk himself blue and kept muttering over and over that it was an outrageous idea until I read:

FUCK YOU, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE! CRISS ANGEL WOULD NEVER BE ON EHARMONY, GET FUCKED YOU SICK BASTARD!

"Hey Mark," I sighed.

"So I'm not talking to a wall?" He laughed.

"I'll do it." I groaned. "But these girls are getting STD checked. I've watched Flavor of Love."