Prince Hot Ginge And the Most Shocking Rose Ceremony Ever

summary: Edward's forced to single handedly rehabilitate his family's tarnished brand name by becoming the next "Bachelor." Bella's an out-of-work nanny who's looking for free rent and three square meals a day. Lols and forced hilarity ensue.

Chapter 1: You're the Jordan Knight to my Danny Wood

a/n: I have two other stories to finish up, but needed a little something fun to write while working on the other updates. Short chapters, short story, short turn around time for updates- 1-2 times a week.


Cormia gasped in shock - or was it agitated delight? - at the carnal spectacle before her. Phury's hot steaming member protruded out haughtily, preening for her in all it's twitchy glory-

"That sounds like a turd coming out or something."

My head snapped up, utter embarrassment being broadcasted across my flushed cheeks in bright crimson.

"I mean, you're trying to describe a penis, right?" Her tone was more conciliatory now, as a shock of dark brown ringlets came into view.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to pry. We've just been in this line for so long now, I couldn't help but sneak a peek at what you've been typing."

Big brown eyes and a warm smile accompanied the other features; and suddenly, the intrusion didn't seem as offensive as an enthusiastic hand stretched out my way.

"Let me start over. I'm Miko Jones. Actress - slash - model - slash - singer. Part time reality contestant. I was on the first season of Rock of Love."

Ms. Jones voice and face and bod attested to all three slashes of hers. I shook my head in anticipation for what I had to volley back.

"Bella Swan. Nanny - slash - Elder Care Giver - slash - freelance writer. First time reality contestant hopeful." An internal groan lodged in my throat - the thought of "hoping" to be on reality television was bad enough. Voicing such hopes was downright pathetic.

"An elder care giver with a fifth call back? That's a first." Miko eyed me up and down now, Ms. Jones did. No doubt wondering how my scrawny, mousey, care-giving ass got this far in the auditions. It was a fluke really - Angela forced me to come along with her for the initial weeding process:


"What do you have to lose, Bella? It's guaranteed room and board for a whole three months. They're switching it up this season too. If you make the top twenty cut, they keep you in the mansion for the remainder of the show, even if you're the first one kicked off! "

THAT - that right there was what got my mind racing. How hard could it be to make the top twenty, and then purposefully get kicked off at the very beginning? That would leave me loads of Infinity pool lounging time while writing the great American novel.

Or at least a chapter or five of smutty fanfiction.

Angela saw the lightbulb go off in my head, and drove it on home.

"Then you could quit your job with Old Man Perkins. No more accidental hairy knuckle breast brushes while you change his bedpan!"

Times had been hard since my nanny job went bust after the family relocated. I'd been stuck taking the odd babysitting jobs here and there while putting in long hours with a randy senior citizen who popped Viagra like they were Tic Tacs.

And then there was the prospect of not having to live with Old Man Charlie in that shithole called Forks all summer either.

"You'd be living in a Malibu mansion, Bella. Twenty minutes from Hollywood, the heartland for all aspiring screenwriters. You don't want to write fanfiction forever."


No, no I didn't. I didn't want to get stuck watching after others while my own life was put on lay-a-way either. So I took Angela's challenge and auditioned. A first call-back came, and then a second and a third. Angela's phone stopped ringing while mine continued with a fourth call-back. Getting to the last phase of the audition felt like I was so close to nabbing this - until I saw the other finalists. They were in a different league than me, ready-for-primetime beauties that only made my first and last name seem like a punchline.

"I know, I know...I don't belong here," my words rushed out a tad too defensively. "This all seemed pretty doable when I was just meeting with the casting directors. But seeing who I'm up against here? Yeah, stick a fork in it, I'm done."

Miko glanced over the room with a knowing grin.

"Yeah, Mr. Bachelor definitely has a type huh? Platinum blondes who've won the titty lottery." Miko leaned in more closely, her next words whispered conspiratorially. "But that's where WE stand out."

I wasn't sure how Miko was getting grouped in with me all of the sudden. She was gorgeous and her knockers could take a couple cantalopes down for the count.

"Haven't you watched any reality shows, Bella?"

"Um...I just told you I was a nanny and elder care giver. Television time was limited to either grown men who sang about getting the wiggles for children or Jane Seymour hawking liver spot cream on the Home Shopping Network."

Miko inquired further into my pop cultural fluency, only finding some common ground with my extensive boy band knowledge.

"Think of it this way, Bella. Not everyone can be the hot blonde in a boy band. You can't have five Justin Timerlakes or five Nick Carters on stage at once. They'd cancel eachother out eachother's blonde hotness. All these girls in here? Are totally canceling eachother out too."

She had a point. There was only a small handful of us who didn't fit some set Nazi Hitler Youth standard in the whole room.

"This is where YOU come in. You are the Chris Kirkpatrick to all these interchangeable Justins in here - an AJ Mclean to their Nick. What would the Backstreet Boys have been without AJ Mclean?"

Was that a trick question, I pondered?

"Better looking and less bald?"

Miko gave me an indulgent smile.

"True... but that baldness brought a touch of vulnerability and humanity to the group, while making Nick's hair look even better. You could bring a similar humanity to the show too if you played your cards correctly."

Translation: While I couldn't compete with these models, I could angle myself as a "Mary Sue" type that viewers could live through and relate to. My face scrunched up in reflexive distaste, but that didn't stop Miko from continuing.

"And AJ found his niche eventually, don't forget. He didn't become the "guy with the effed up facial hair" overnight and on his own. Lou Pearlman sculpted him into the boybander we know him as today. Let me help you find your reality niche, Bella. Let me be your Lou Pearlman. If you let me help you, we'll have an unstoppable alliance together on this show!"

I looked around for signage that confirmed that I was in the right place. "Wait a minute. Am I trying out for "The Bachelor" or "Suvivor?" And if you become my Lou Pearlman, will I be forced to mow your lawn in daisy dukes? 'Cause I think that's what all those Backstreet Boys had to do for their own last call back...backstreet being the operative term here..."

"Aha." Miko nodded her head knowingly. "So, you're one of those types who manages social discomfort with awkward, rambling humor. That's gotta be nipped in the bud asap before you start filming, honey."

A part of me wanted to be offended. This girl barely introduced herself before calling me out as plain. At the same time though, she seemed to know the ropes of this reality game better than I did. And the visual of an air-conditioned Malibu estate, completely free of that handsy Old Man Perkins popped into my head again. There were worse things than being the AJ Mclean of the room, really.

She could have pegged me more for a Danny Wood from the New Kids on the Block.

"Okay, I'm game. You can be my personal Lou Pearlman. But if I'm the female equivalent to AJ in the group, which boy bander type are you?"

She smiled as if I were missing the obvious. "I'm not boy band material. I'm more of a solo artist, like Justin Beiber - only with my balls descended."

"Yikes, you've got Lou Pearlman in the same body as a puberty-bound Beiber? Someone call Child Protective Services."

Within minutes, Miko was teaching me how to let my reality programming balls descend too.

"You have to create a narrative for your life story, sweetie. And your narrative smacks of Cinderella with some Sleeping Beauty on top. You work hard, care for others, yet have no time to care for yourself."

She whipped a lock of my hair into her hand: "Look at this, so flat and unstyled!"

Her eyes drifted over my body again. " And clothes most likely from the sale rack at Old Navy. You are screaming makeover, not just in looks but in life. ABC will eat this shit up - it's owned by Disney you know."


By the time my name was called for my final interview, Miko had done wonders on my "narrative." She took my hands in hers.

"Let's try to this one more time. Remember, this is the last push to sell yourself as an indispensable personality for their series. Now give me all you've got, mousey brunette who is just waiting to turn into a swan."

I closed my eyes, and then opened them back up all doe-like, just like Miko instructed.

"Hi, my name is Bella Swan. My parents divorced at an early age, leaving me to fend for myself since I was saddled with a child-like, inept mother and an emotionally constipated father. I learned to nurture both parents as I nurtured myself. And as a result, I gravitated toward care-giving employment options such as a baby-sit-"

"Au -pair!" Miko interjected. "Au-pair makes you sound more accomplished."

I swallowed hard in concentration. "...such as an au-pair and care giver to the elderly. With so much time devoted to helping others, I thought maybe once..."

I paused dramatically, letting my eyes reach their most outer doe-eyed limits.

"Good, Bella...stretch it out just a little more for maximum effect," Miko coached.

"Just once, I would try to do something for myself." I shrugged my shoulders methodically. "And here I am."

I paused again, blushing on cue. The fact I could blush on command freaked Miko out initially, but then she concluded it would be my secret weapon.

"It's going to be your signature quality, the camera is going to eat it up. AJ Mclean had intricately shaved facial hair, and Bella Swan? Bella Swan has THE blush." She clapped her hands excitedly. "Your parents are going to be so proud of you, snagging a reality spot on your first time out!"

I shook my head in skepticism.

"Yeah, their excitement may be dampened somewhat with the whole my-parents-sucked embellishments we tacked on there at the end."

Nothing could bring Miko down from her mentoring prowess though. "I'm just saying, Bella. I know you are only setting your sights on the top twenty; but if you keep up that blushing-doe eyes two step of yours, you may just win this whole kit and kaboodle, along with a rich hottie."

I couldn't help but snort indelicately.

"Yeah, doubt that very highly. These bachelor guys always look like used car salesman douches holding roses they probably bought at a freeway offramp from a guy who also sold them oranges."

Miko put her finger to her mouth, reminding me that my awkward social stylings were showing through again.

"I'm just saying, unless the bachelor happens to be a hot ginge prince named Harry, I'm not interested."

"Hot ginge, huh?" Miko crossed her arms while sporting a cryptic smile. "Well, if the rumors are true about who will be the next bachelor, your ginge wishes might come true."