11. 9.
9.
Sebastian
No one knows I changed my ticket to economy. I guess I never bothered to let them know.
The rest of the cast will go first class, but for everyone’s sake, I need time away from Mackenzie. Our intimate date two days ago only cemented the fact I do not know why she’s here.
She's been sending me lascivious looks since I got to the airport, so I’m going to guess it went brilliantly from her point of view.
But I don’t know why I’m bringing Mackenzie. I don't know why from all the girls she’s 1/6 of my pick. It’s like one day I woke up with no control over my life.
I have always been very certain of my choices. Coming to The Final Rose was a risk, but a calculated one. It doesn’t feel like that anymore.
I go on dates I don’t want to go. I spend time with people I don’t really care about. Sure, I enjoy Vera and Abby’s company, but I don’t crave it. And I feel like I should crave it.
But the worst part of this mess is her .
Three weeks ago, I found the only person I could trust on this side of the world. Unapologetically real, Callie Sosa was a beam of light.
Now she hurries after the rest of the crew like she can’t possibly pass through airport security beside me. That is just an example of how the last couple of weeks have been.
I don’t know what happened to her, but she changed. One day, like a light switch, everything changed.
She avoids me at all costs, and when she has no other option but to deal with my presence, all we talk about is the girls. She avoids any banter and ignores every attempt to be real.
She doesn’t deliver Maverick’s flowers anymore. Instead, it is the same mousy intern who can’t look me in the eye. And even once when I tried to show her what he sent, she got flustered and escaped.
She’s distanced herself from my interviews too. Now I have Anya, who, even though is short and rude, is excellent at doing her job. She’s crafty at taking statements out of me in a way I’m not so comfortable about.
Callie is all about the girls. In their interviews, she’s present. I see them exchanging rushed words all over the mansion.
No words are addressed to me.
It’s pissing me right off.
I hate that hotel and its white walls. I hate the food and I’m tired of the constant hot weather. I'm ready to go back home.
Maverick is ecstatic. He can’t wait to see the set and is hinting at an interview. At least one of us is excited about this whole thing, which proves how things have changed.
Once I’m out of the security, I rush trying to get a glimpse of Callie’s brown hair, but she’s small, the airport is full, and she’s hiding from me.
I hear people by my side, but it’s only when Abby trips and I hold her just in time that I realize the girls are around me. I help her up and offer to bring her bag, which she accepts. Grace calls me a true gentleman, and I offer her a closed-lip smile.
Grace is another one who is lovely and polite, but sometimes I wonder why she’s here. We don’t click. At all. Everything she says to me is superficial. Not because she's shallow. No, she’s lovely, but we have nothing to say to each other.
I shake myself, feeling all too cynical.
My other eliminations weren’t as hard as the first. Primarily because I got to know them better, and I realized that it isn't because someone’s nice that I have to feel attracted to them.
Eliminating them based on our interactions made me feel better, but now that only half of the girls remain, the feeling truly sank.
None of them are my wife.
I came to that acceptance after Summer’s elimination. Not sure what exactly triggered it, but suddenly I was painfully aware that I should be more interested.
I should feel something. Desire, passion, interest. But I was coming up with nothing.
It became easy to eliminate because now it’s a game for me too. I don’t feel like I’m making a mistake anymore. I know with all certainty that I’m not eliminating my wife.
The weeks after my realization dragged by. Callie continued to ignore me, and I kept polite conversation with the girls I was supposed to be falling in love with.
The group dates I thought I was going to hate, I learned to love. At least on them, they chat amongst themselves. Even to the point that I feel like an outsider.
They flank me now, asking questions about London and my country house where a good part of the episodes will be shot.
I laugh at their questions and wish I could stop feeling like this.
Like The Final Rose is a mistake.
It’s only when we board the plane that I breathe easily. I don’t even think about it. I just go straight to my new seat right there in the back with the rest of the mortals. I bring my hand luggage down the aisle and when I arrive on roll twenty-four, I stop and smile at Callie by the window.
She looks up, widening her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I shrug, relaxed, opening the compartment and putting my luggage with hers. “Nothing’s wrong.”
Callie looks from one side to the other. “You can’t sit here.”
“Why not? This is my seat.”
She is still looking around like the plane police are coming to arrest us at any moment.
“You’re supposed to be with the rest of the cast in the first class.”
“Funny, that’s not what my ticket says.” I chuckle as she snags the ticket off my hands, sucking in a breath when it’s clear I’m not lying.
“What the hell did you do?” she whisper-shouts.
“Nothing. Are you a chatty Cathy during flights?” I ask, sitting beside her.
“Am I--” She shakes her head. “You need to go back to first class.”
“I can’t. I don’t have a first-class ticket. They wouldn’t let me sit there.”
“Sebastian, do you understand…” And that’s when I see she’s truly distressed. I feel like a prick, and I turn my body toward her.
“I just wanted a little company during the flight, ok? It’s a long one.”
She blows a raspberry. It’s her signature move. Like she’s physically trying to get rid of all the tension on her shoulders as she blows the air out. Her shoulders fall and she nods, bringing her fingers to her temple.
“It’s ok. I just thought you wanted time with the girls away from the cameras.”
I guess she’s right. I have ten hours without a camera on my face, but instead of using it to get to know the women I’m dating, I switched my ticket and charmed the check-in girl to put me right beside Callie Sosa.
I shrug off the implication. I know well why I don’t want to spend more time with them, but I don’t tell Callie.
“I just need time away from being that.”
“That?”
“The Eligible.”
“Oh.”
When I look at her, she’s nibbling her lips. It’s cute. Callie usually looks capable and in control. It’s not always that I catch her looking vulnerable.
“Did you bring any games?” I ask at the same time she says, “Do you want to talk about the date?”
I make a disgruntled sound. “My date with Mackenzie?” She nods. “Have you watched?”
That’s another thing. Callie is never around during my dates. She vanishes into thin air. Funny thing for someone who only wants to talk about them.
She nods, confirming something I already knew. She watches all the dates. Taking notes or whatever, I bet. Perv .
“She’s…” I don’t have words to explain what Mackenzie is. Eventually, I find them. “She’s like many women I've met before.” Callie’s eyebrows rise and I elaborate. “She worries about looking posh.”
“That’s what she said to you? I’m Mackenzie and I worry about being posh?”
She laughs like it’s the most ridiculous thing she ever heard. Mackenzie might not have used those exact words, but she wasn’t far from it.
I let my head fall to the backrest and close my eyes. When I open them, Callie is watching me.
“I can tell she has all these rules of how to behave,” I elaborate. “She follows them and expects everyone to do so. All she talked about was unimportant things, and how to be perceived.”
Callie nods, “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know how you kept a straight face during that date,” she winces. “I stopped watching after the first ten minutes.”
“I hope she’s not edited too roughly.”
I can see by the grimace on Callie’s face that it is exactly what is going to happen. “No one put words inside her mouth. She said them. In a very dull, horrible monologue. But to be fair, you look like someone who’d like talking about those things.”
“About the best restaurants to go to? And the proper places to be seen?”
“She did not list the proper places to be seen!”
I shake my head. “No. But when she told me about a restaurant she liked, she added we can only order in because we can’t possibly be seen on that side of town.”
“Oh, I bet it’s just beside my apartment,” she plays.
“I’d imagine you live just above a Chinese restaurant? Like in the movies?”
She sighs with a dreamy look. “But the owners are simple and hardworking people who like me very much and always give me a doggie bag.”
“And even if you went to the posh part of town, you’d miss your true friends,” I finish with my hand resting on my chest.
She actually snorts and doesn’t apologize for it. “I’m sure that’s a rom-com movie.”
I agree. “Yes, she’s going to fall in love with the billionaire and show him money isn’t all.”
Callie groans and rolls her eyes dramatically. “That’s rich people talking. I’m telling you; money isn’t everything, but it would surely fix most of my problems.”
“You should ask for a raise. You work too much.” I tell her. I don’t even know how much she makes, but for what she works, I know it isn’t enough.
“We all work a lot. It’s television.” She pins me with a look. “I could afford a better place, but I’m saving.”
“Oh, tell me, Miss Sosa. What are your hopes and dreams?” I perch up my elbow over the armrest and tilt my head on top.
“You know, people look at you, handsome, rich, and with a great accent and wonder how the hell is this man still single? Well, Riggs, that’s why.”
I sober up, looking right into her big brown eyes. “No one gets to know me enough to see this part, Callie. They never let me be me enough to get to the–”
“Dorky parts,” she interrupts.
I scoff and shake my head. “But you. You’re the only one.”
The second the words are out of my mouth, I know I made a mistake. Callie blinks a thousand times in a second, her whole body going rigid. It’s like a malfunctioning robot. I’d make fun of that if I wasn’t so scared to fuck up again.
I don’t know why Callie changed with me. And I know if I ask, she’ll play crazy. She built a wall in the last weeks, and I can’t figure out why. But I don’t want her to do it again.
Callie is something else I never thought was possible. I’m at ease in her presence. I’m me. And I’ll respect any boundaries if it means enjoying her company again.
Trying to bring her back, I clear my throat and ask again. “What are you saving for?”
“What?” She blinks some more.
“What are you saving for?” I repeat.
“Oh.” She has a lump in her throat. “I want to buy a house for my parents. They still rent and I know Dad says they are ok but…”
“You want to give them something.”
She nods, licking her lips. “I’m first generation. Mom and Dad worked their whole lives to give us everything they could and now that we are grown… it’s the least we can do.”
“We?” I ask. “Do you have siblings?”
She bobs her head. “Two idiot brothers. They have a construction company together. Our old neighborhood isn’t the safest place, but my parents have been living there for the last thirty years and they won’t move.” She flicks her wrist, showing me it’s an ongoing argument with the Sosas. “But we found something affordable and big enough. Comfortable. Ben and Dario say they can work on it if we buy. It’s old, but…”
She stops herself from talking, and a small smile tugs at her lips.
“Ben, Dario and Callie.” I test their names.
“Benicio, Calliope and Dario.” She corrects me.
“Ah, you’re the middle child, Calliope?”
“You’re not allowed to call me that.”
I smile, “Why?”
“Because that’s Dad’s privilege.”
I shrug, “It’s your name.”
After a second, she talks again. “Does anyone call you Seb?”
“Mother never liked nicknames very much.”
“Oh, she would hate a Latino household. I barely remember most of my cousins’ real names. Just whatever insane word their friends call them up and down the street.
I can’t stop smiling. It sounds like she has a normal life. Friends, a loving and crazy family. It’s almost ridiculous how deliciously normal it all sounds. Every child should grow up like that. A bunch of cousins, nicknames, friends, and family. I bet her mother cooks well, and her father dotes on her. That her brothers are overprotective, and she drinks boxed wine with her friends.
“I thought old British ladies call themselves Birdie and Bunny…” She wriggles her nose in an attempt at an English accent and I chuckle.
“One has to be creative when every other person is called Margaret or Elizabeth.”
“Is Sebastian an original or…” She doesn’t even get to finish and I’m shaking my head.
“My grandfather was Sebastian. As my father is George, like his grandfather. I’m assuming I need to have an heir called George to keep the lineage strong.”
“It’s the oldest English witchcraft, after all.” Callie bobs her head.
We are both chuckling when the plane takes off. I see her clutching the armrest, but I don’t say anything, I just watch her expression in silence. Eventually, we stabilize, and they turn off the lights, forcing us to have a good sleep and magically wake up on a different continent. Callie lowers her voice, her head turned to me.
“They hate that you’re here.”
They are my parents. It’s not a question either. Isn’t very hard to see that my parents- being who they are- hate the fact I’m part of a reality TV show.
“The thing about people like my parents is that they map the lives of their offspring before we are even born. At first, you push yourself to be the best, to keep in line. To make their dreams come true. But soon you’re not a child anymore and their expectations never waver. It’s the college they want, the company you keep. The clothes, the events. The job.”
Callie frowns and sighs, apparently exhausted on my behalf. “Contenta, alimentada, y honesta.”
I blink at her. “What’s that?”
“The only three things my parents ever wished for me.”
Happy, fed, and honest. For the first time in weeks, I want to be in Los Angeles. I want to ask to meet her parents. I want to see her brothers and try to make them like me. I want to help buy her parents a home.
Desperate under my collar, I realize I’m going the wrong way.
It’s bluntly cruel how London is the memory of my failures. All the times I wasn’t even close to what is expected of a Riggs. All the times I wrongly tried. Good segment or not, bringing prospects to London is a mistake because London’s Sebastian Riggs isn’t someone I want to be anymore.
He isn’t someone who would be the Eligible for The Final Rose.
The production wanted to know a little bit about my life. Since my parents refused to be part of it, I arranged for a stay in my country house. Bring the girls around London and get Maverick to join us and give him the screen time he so badly wants.
But as I imagine myself going back to that house, riding one of my horses, and showing them around, I keep thinking about what Callie will think. Is she going to see the beauty of the house for itself or only as a representation of my family’s wealth?
Will she be comfortable? Will she think less of me when I show her London’s Sebastian?
She wriggles her hands on her lap, uncomfortable by my prolonged silence.
“Do you have siblings?” she asks when it’s clear I’m not saying anything else.
I nod dumbly. “Beatrice.”
“Younger or older?”
“Younger.” I smile. “I want to meet with her while we are there. Off-camera. She’s at Uni, technically an adult, but I don’t want my mother finding reasons to be cross at her. Right now I'm enemy number one.”
Callie blinks with a furrow on her forehead. She breathes out and nods. “Yeah, sure. I get it.”
“You’ll still get to meet her.” I guarantee.
“Me?”
I scoff. “Of course. I’ll ring her and we can go for a pint.”
Her throat works. “No cameras?”
“No cameras.”
And for some reason, I hold my breath. My eyes lock on hers and I don’t dare to move.
Finally, Callie nods.
“That’ll be great.”