Page 25 of Unscripted

“So, Poppy, tell me everything!” she said.

I turned and opened my mouth to give her my basics, but before I could get a word out, I was interrupted by the door being thrown open again.

This time, a petite brunette stood in the entryway. She paused for a moment before walking in farther, and I had the distinct feeling she had just posed for the cameras.

The new contestant flipped her hair around as she sashayed into the room, using the marble floor as her own catwalk.

Chiara and I got up from the couch and moved to greet her. As we introduced ourselves, she smiled and said, “Ella. Pleasure to meet you both.”

Her accent had a crispness to it that screamed, “I’m more refined than you.”

Before we could say anything more, she turned and walked back out of the villa, ready to shoot her entrance from another angle without even being told to.

Chiara and I continued sipping on our champagne as Ella did three additional takes. She didn’t even ask for the extra set-ups, she simply looked into the camera and said, “I’m going again,” before walking back to her mark. The girl knew what she wanted, I’d give her that.

When she was done, she sauntered over to the couch. As she took in both Chiara and me while pouring her own glass of champagne, hesitance flooded through me.

There was something about Ella that had all my instincts screaming at me to proceed with caution. I tried to shake it off, immediately feeling bad for making a snap judgment about her. It was no better than what she was obviously doing to me.

Chiara was chatting away, and I tried to focus back on what she was saying when the doors opened again.

A tall, thin girl with shiny black hair hanging down her back walked in.

“Hi ladies, you alright?” she said, smiling and giving us all a small wave. There was a shyness to her I was immediately taken with. “I’m Olivia,” she said as she gave a round of hugs.

Then, as quickly as she appeared, she was gone, back out the door and reshooting her entrance before finally returning to settle in.

Olivia poured herself a drink and took her place on the couch when the door opened yet again. They were really going full steam ahead with the arrivals. I thought there might be more down time for production to do whatever it was they needed between contestants, but it seemed like they wanted us all in the villa and mingling as quickly as possible.

A shorter girl with enviable curves walked through the entryway. She would be the last of the girls, if my math and knowledge of how the show worked was correct.

“Hiya,” she said, her confident voice echoing off the floor’s marble. “I’m Jess!”

Introductions were made, and then the entire thing was shot again from a new angle. When Jess finished her takes, she took her place next to me on the couch, and we were all finally able, without interruption, to settle in.

“This is so exciting!” Chiara exclaimed, patting my knee enthusiastically.

“Cheers, ladies,” Jess said, lifting her glass in the air. “To a steamy summer of love!”

Raising my own glass, I looked around and took in the faces surrounding me. They were the girls I was about to spend every waking hour with. At least until someone went home or someone new came in. Regardless, my heart squeezed, and I felt a bit lighter at the thought of making new friends over the summer.

The love the show promised was not something I was keen to pursue, but I knew then and there that at least I wouldn’t be alone in trying to figure everything out.

***

Sitting on the couch, surrounded by my new castmates and drinking champagne, something in my chest loosened. I was here. I had been on camera for an hour so far, and I hadn’t completely self-destructed or done anything regrettable. If the rest of my time in the villa was like this, maybe I would make it out in one piece.

Jess was sitting to my left and had been telling me she was from Manchester at the exact same time I realized my knowledge of English geography was nonexistent. All I could do was nod along whenever anyone referred to anywhere that was outside of London.

I was about to ask where exactly, on a map, Manchester was when the doors to the villa swung open.

My heart dropped for a split second, thinking it might be the boys. My mind flashed to Callum, and I wondered where he was at that exact moment.

Probably terrorizing some poor PA.

It wasn’t Callum, though, nor any other boy, but a statuesque woman in a sequined mini dress.

Gemma Row.