"Francis, can you pass me the water bottle?" Bea batted her eyelashes at Francis and displayed her perfectly aligned thirty-two teeth.

"Oui, miss," Francis said in a charming tone, passing the bottle to her.

Their hands touched ever so slightly and Bea giggled. It was corny and cheesy enough to make me uncomfortable in my seat and I shifted a little to help with the blood circulation at least. Bea passed the bottle back to him, and it made me feel like a pissed-off third wheel as they continued on with their slapstick romance. Exasperated, I looked out of the window and tried hard to ignore them. Though, it was next to impossible considering both of them sat on either side of me. It had already been ten hours since we had boarded the flight and they were still going on with their flirting.

I envied Roger, Francis' partner for the show, who had the luck to get the single seat in front of us. His big frame was sprawled upon the seat and he was in deep sleep with no 'lovebirds' to disturb him. It was even funnier and absurd when I thought that all this was happening because I had agreed to help Francis break up with Bella. The plan had backfired, alright, but his casual attitude as he enjoyed the flight with a girl way younger than him had me in a twist.

"Francis, how was the cooking school you studied at back in Paris?" Bea flipped her hair to one side and leaned forward. It was like I didn't even exist between them. Nothing more than a wall of stone or stack of potatoes. It was my first time to see this side of Bea and I hated it so far.

"It was as sweet as you, pet." He grinned and I bit my cheek to stop myself from banging my head against the front seat.

"Really? I wish I could go to France one day! Is Eiffel Tower pretty?" Bea asked once again and that was it for me.

"I'm going to the washroom," I nearly shouted, and stood up abruptly. The food tray in front of me clattered as my knee collided with it and pain shot up my leg instantly. I jumped up and down, clutching my knee as I tried to relieve the pain, and both of them stared at me with their mouth open.

And I accomplished all this in three seconds.

"Are you alright, Tyler?" Bea whispered, and I let myself be grateful for her concern until she ruined it with her giggling.

"Move your legs," I demanded and pushed back Francis's legs to make space to move out.

Just as I brushed past him, the plane hit a slight turbulence. Taken aback, I stumbled but righted myself by grabbing the head of the seat. As soon as I regained my balance, it tilted again and this time I tripped to land directly on Francis' lap. His arms caught me around my waist to save me from any further fall and the emergency lights flickered on. Heat rushed up to my face at our awkward position and I hurried to scramble up to a standing position.

"Wait, Ty," he whispered and his hand reached out towards me and for a second my stomach clenched at his advancing hand. I relaxed when they took a different direction and worked on my hair caught in his sleeves' cuff button.

"Ouch," I groaned as I tried to pull away and only succeeded in making my scalp throb in pain. Half squatting and half standing there in an awkward position, I waited for Francis to remove my hair from his shirt. "Let me try."

I noticed a few people glancing my way as the lights switched on. And more curiously towards Francis's bent head below my neck. It's not what you think it is! It was clear how dirty everyone's minds were running when to my further embarrassment, the flight attendant (who could have been a supermodel for all his looks), gave me a forced smile and an all real glare.

"Can I help you with anything, miss?" His voice was coated with suppressed anger and I shook my head to get this over with. He looked down to Francis still working on my hair and back up at me. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, very sure." I gave him a tight-lipped smile and he returned it as tightly. It was like a staring match going on between us before he gave up and huffed away.

Weird.

"Okay, done!" Francis held up his sleeve and a few strands of my hair in his other hand.

"You broke my hair?" I exclaimed and snatched the few strands away from his hand. Horrified, I petted them and plopped back down on my seat.

"Sorry, it was really stuck."

"Never mind."

"Do you remember-" he started with his tone full of reminiscence.

"-when my hair got stuck with your bow tie?" I finished for him, already guessing it.

"Yeah!" He laughed and shook his head. "We almost had to chop down your hair."

"When did that happen?" Bea asked him with a curious smile and looked at the two of us. We suddenly became conscious and Francis stumbled with his next words.

It was as awkward as explaining to your children how babies are born.

"Oh, that's when we both used to date," he said in a small voice and Bea nodded.

"I know you two dated! I mean what all Tyler had to go-"

"Bea!" I stopped her before she could finish her sentence, but Francis had already caught it.

"What do you mean?" Francis asked and leaned forward with keen interest.

I pleaded Bea with my eyes to not say anything about it. She nodded at me and grinned back at him. "What I meant was that Tyler always talked about you in our cooking class. She even wrote 'I heart sugar' in every cake she baked." Bea added and I rolled my eyes.

I certainly never did that.

"She's just joking. I never did that," I explained to him but he was already laughing too much. "Hey! I did not do that! Are you even listening?!"

"Thanks," I whispered to Bea when Francis wasn't paying attention.

"You never told him?" she asked me and a knot formed in my throat, almost choking me with its sweet pain.

I leaned forward towards the window as if checking the view outside. "It wouldn't have done us any good."

"But what his parents did to you-"

"It's all in the past Bea. I'm not that affected anymore." The words flew out of my mouth without much effort, but I knew I was assuring myself rather than her. Was I really not affected anymore? Was everything in the past as I said?  The answers were as muddy as trying to remember a forgotten dream. As the mood mellowed and other conversations died down, I leaned back on the seat and closed my eyes.

***

"Are we there yet?" Bea asked me with her mouth agape as our cab sped pass through the blinking lights and buildings of the city. The flight landed on time and I was finally at peace with Francis and my team splitting up into different cabs.

We were in Singapore at last! I screamed inside my head in anticipation of what was in store for us.The twilight was approaching and it emitted such a wonderful hue in the sky, with the pinks, oranges and the blue, with the tall buildings set against them that all we could do was sit there in silence and stare out the car's window. Checking in into the hotel with the help of the producer (and as per Bea's request clicking a billion photos), we set our way up to our room.

"You think we can call home yet?" Bea clicked the door open to our shared room. Inside, I thanked Seth for saving me from the embarrassing situation of sharing the room with Brandon had we been partners.

"We have a twelve hours difference. Unless you want to wake everyone up at seven in the morning, go right ahead," I replied, taking the left side of the double bed and lying down.

"Okay, I'm calling them." Bea went out to the balcony and I closed my eyes once again.

My phone buzzed in the pocket of my jeans and I quickly took it out to see that there was a text message from Brandon.

Did you reach?

I smiled and typed the reply.

Yeah. In the hotel now.

After deliberating over sending an emoji or not, I quickly added a winking emoji and pressed send. Feeling excited I pondered over the phone, waiting for a reply. I brightened up when my phone buzzed again a few seconds later.

Your mom is asking why you're not calling her right now...

P. S. she's standing behind me.

I frowned and then laughed, embarrassed at my mom, but still finding it funny.

Tell her I'll call her in a while.

Pressing send again, I got a reply almost instantly.

'Stop texting her Brandon and go get me some eggs from the fridge.'

Swear to God that's what she shouted at me right now!

My laughter doubled up at his poor situation, and the bed shook with my movement. Bea entered the room just then and gave me a quizzical stare.

Then what are you doing?! Get those damn eggs!

"Who are you texting?" Bea came over and tried to peep and I wiped my tears away from laughing too hard.

"Oh? It's Brandon, he got grilled by mom," I told her and she made a noise to let me know she heard me and fiddled with all the things.

Right, catch you later! I got his reply. He added a winking emoji. Oh my god. As I fawned over it in my mind, all pretty roses and peaches blooming inside, someone knocked outside the door.

"I'll take that," I hopped over to the door and, like a good girl first checked through the peephole to confirm that it was someone we knew. The producer, it is.

"Miss Tyler," she gave me a pleasing smile and I instantly felt warmth towards her.

"Ma'am," I acknowledged her and welcomed her inside the room.

"I hope you're satisfied with the room? You didn't opt for two single beds, I see."

"Oh, we both didn't mind sharing a bed and Bea is just like a younger sister to me." I grinned and Bea must have been pretty shocked at my statement because she came closer to me and whispered in my ear, 'Are you high?'. I giggled at her question and wrapped my hands around her shoulder, her height almost equal to mine despite her being younger.

"That's exciting to know. I came to inform both of you about the inauguration party tonight. You all were the last batch to arrive, so sorry for the short notice." She turned to leave but I stopped her.

"Wait, why the inaugural? Didn't the competition start awhile ago?"

"Those were the auditions. Now we have sixteen finalists along with their partners excluding the three of you and one more."

"The three of us?"

"Yes. Tyler, Francis, and Patrick, the top three finalists of your group. You must remember them?"

"Yes of course." I nodded, remembering the blonde haired guy who had been awarded the second runner-up.

"Oh, another thing, both of you have your photo shoot scheduled at eight tomorrow morning, and you will also meet your dress coordinators and stylists." She gave both of us a look over before sauntering away without another comment.

"We'll have personal stylists?" I squeaked and Bea jumped up and down with glee. We both crashed down on the bed to absorb all the information when the biggest problem hit us.

"We have a party to attend in an hour!" Bea exclaimed and ran towards her suitcase and I hurriedly followed her footsteps.

After an hour of rummaging through our luggage, changing our clothes over ten times, styling our hair and applying our makeup, both of us felt satisfied enough with our look. On time, we took the lift downstairs to the main set for the party in the basement.

"Good evening miss, your names?" the man at the gate asked, and let us through once we provided our names.

"Our production team will help you with your mics," he told us and two young members set up our microphones and attached it to our dresses. They went away after a voice check and we finally got to join the party.

"Why so much security? I don't get it," Bea complained but her question was answered just as we entered the million dollars giant ballroom set. It was breathtaking on its own, and the beautiful decorations just made it all the more mystical.

One side of the room was filled with cameras, shooting anything and everything, with people dressed in jeans and baseball caps, doing their jobs. But the other side was a whole different story, filled with people in extravagant clothes and exquisite dresses, I could only look on. The queasiness in my stomach increased and Bea tightened her hold on my hand. We both descended the stairs, the camera flashing each split second on our faces, blinding my eyes with its lights. A cool hand wrapped around my waist and I looked up with surprise to see Francis standing beside me with a casual grin on his face.

"You look beautiful," he whispered in my ear and I punched his shoulder lightly.

"Why, thank you," I attempted to be sarcastic, but a grin broke out on my face, making him laugh. Bea's hand loosened from my grip and she turned towards us with her hands on her hips.

"Hey, I'm right here!" she mocked me and Francis took her hand, bent down to kiss it and led her away from me.

"Roger," I acknowledged him and he gave me a curt nod before going away in a different direction. I would have stood there alone if not for a cute blonde girl skidding towards me and wrapping me up in a hug.

"Oh my gosh! I can't believe I'm meeting Tyler Anderson! You were my favorite contestant back in the Junior competition. Do you remember me?" she held me within the length of her lean arms. "The one who gifted you the white chocolates after you won."

"Oh right," I joined her, thinking hard about what she was saying but coming up clueless.

"When I heard there would be three wild card entrants and another new entry, I knew you would be one of them! I'm so ecstatic to see you."

"Thank you," I smiled affectionately at her, though I couldn't remember whatever she claimed, her excitement caught me up.

"I would have loved you to meet my boyfriend but he's probably run off somewhere again. He's camera shy," she whispered and her comment made me realize that we were being shot throughout.

Each touch, gesture, emotion, and word would be displayed on the international television. It was unnerving, but there were more concerning things than this. "I'm Sarah by the way." She extended her hand and I gladly shook it. "Gotta run, but I'll catch you later for an autograph!"

I waved at her and made my way towards the drinks corner, my calf-length black dress swishing around as I walked.

"You must be Tyler?" A forty-something woman dressed up in a dress suit handed me a wine glass and clinked it. I looked at her incredulously as she took a long swig of her drink and then motioned me to do so too. "Go on, it's legal to drink here above eighteen."

She nodded and I took a polite sip before asking who she was. "I'm the casting manager here."

"Casting manager...?"

"Do you think your partners would be allowed with no background research? All of them were first approved by me." She took a long drag of her wine and smirked at me.

"I don't get it," I placed the glass on the counter as she asked me to lean forward.

"You know the theme right?"

"Yeah, 'Love never goes apart' something like that."

"Tsk tsk." She shook her head. "It's 'Love Never Grows Apart'."

"But what do you do?" I asked out of simple curiosity and complete boredom. Talking to an eccentric lady was much better than standing alone and not socializing.

"I cast people. Your partner, Bea, we took her because it would show a relationship between a student and teacher."

"Just like that girl Sarah and her boyfriend would show a romantic one?" I enquired. She nodded, her stance a little wobbly. "Then what about Francis? How love is supposed to be there in their relationship?"

"Don't you know?" she whispered and I leaned in further, "Roger is gay."

I pulled back to stare at her in shock and she winked at me. "How do you know all-" I shut up when she gasped, stepping away from me and I turned to look at the person who was attracting everyone's attention. It was like a movie scene coming alive as one by one each head turned to look at the two persons descending the stairs. There was such heavy silence that I expected everyone to break out in applause any minute just for the sake of it.

"Oh my gosh, is she a celebrity?" Bea was suddenly beside me.

"Yes, you could say that," Francis spoke from the other side and I shivered at his statement.

"Who is she?" Bea's voice was almost a whisper as the said person made a beeline towards us. It was funny how people moved away to give her space. Everyone stared at us, or more like followed her sharp eyes that were looking at the three of us with her heels clicking loudly in the dead silence.

Until she stood right in front of me.

"Bella, that's her name."

***