Page 81 of Most Eligible
I don’t want to admit it, but it sinks in that I’ve done the impossible: I’ve fallen a little bit in love on reality TV.
Just not with the right guy.
Week Four: Family Week
PALERMO,ITALY
Remaining Contestants: 3
Addison
Georgia
Monica
Roland’s Ladies Take the Court!
Love Shackhas just released the details on the twenty contestants lined up for season 20. Fan favorites include Monica, women’s tennis pro from San Francisco; Nina, campaign director from Washington, DC; and Georgia, music journalist from Los Angeles. Make your own fan bracket at the link in our bio! In otherLSnews, sources confirm that the cast traveled to Italy today to continue filming—with families and friends in tow!
—@vividmag,via Instagram
Comments:
@sandra411:OMG. I went to high school with Georgia!!!!! Surreal
@miles_casen:my money’s on Olie.
@sandra411:@miles_casen, are you serious? Olie is NOT wife material. The producers definitely picked her as a wildcard.
@leilacou9:Saw Monica play at the US Open last year, she a killer. Idk how Roland will keep up with his bad knee
@miles_casen:@leilacou9, unless he’s taking something, don’t think he’ll stand a chance at Wimbledon
I’ve been living on highways, living in lost days
Living on fast lanes, on my way home.
I’ve been living with heartache, broken bottles, and mistakes
Trying to make it all go away, trying not to call.
Sometimes, it’s a hard time, being new.
—“Being New,” fromOne Night Only, by Rhett Auburn
Chapter Twenty-Seven
If anyone expected aWolf of Wall Street–style plane party on our nine-hour flight from New York to Rome, they’d be sorely disappointed. After a fourAMwake-up, a turbulence-ridden flight to JFK, and a thirty-minute layover in which Norbert nearly had a heart attack when he thought we lost Addison, everyone else fell fast asleep.
Except me. In fact, I’ve never been more awake. Next to me, Monica lets out a rumbling snore from behind her sleep mask. Every nerve in my body is prickling, reminding me how close to death I am. At any moment the plane could combust or crash or the pilot could lose control or—
A hand comes down on the seatback in front of me, and I look up at the person attached to it. “You okay?” Rhett asks.
My mouth gapes open and it takes me a few seconds to close it. What was I thinking about? Oh right. Death. “Not… amazing?” I’m hesitant to lay it all out to him, but the words just keep spewing. “I wish I could sleep, or listen to music or… I don’t know, do anything except wonder what altitude we’ll be at whenthe engine stops working—oh no.” I grab the armrests as the plane shudders.
“Everyone, please, take your seats,” the pilot says over the intercom. “We’re experiencing a bit of turbulence, but we should be through it in a few minutes.”
