“Does my sister look basic to you?” Anna snaps.

“Anna,” I chide. “Come on.”

Anna walks back over and loops an arm through both mine and Drew’s as we walk out together like an unstoppable Red Rover force.

“Anna,” Drew says once we’re in the clear, “that was so unlike you.”

Anna gasps. “I know!” Her voice returns to its normal levels of sweetness. “But it felt good. A little sexy too. I should talk about this on my Instagram stories.”

I lean my head against her shoulder. “Kitty’s got claws.” I wasn’t sure what to expect when I got back to LA, but being back with Anna and Drew feels…comfortable. I guess if I’m doing this reality television thing, at least it’s with the two of them.

I spend the week with the triplets during the day while Anna and Drew get touched up in every possible way you can imagine. Highlights, facials, waxing, manicures. If it can be polished or shined or stripped of hair, they’ve got it covered. I join them for a few things as time allows, like a quick manicure and getting my split ends trimmed, but Erica’s schedule is busy, which means mine is too. I promised Erica I’d at least spend the week with the triplets, and she promised me she’d find a more permanent solution for them while I’m gone. And every night as I’m falling asleep, I have to remind myself that this is what I wanted, and then I wonder very briefly who the mystery man might be. Too bad Prince Charming won’t be able to swoop in and rescue me if the suitor is just another dude bro.

Three days before I’m set to leave Erica’s house for the château, a film crew descends upon me. I knew they would be here to do pre-interviews for the season premiere, but I’m still taken by surprise. I keep expecting there to be formal introductions to the crew, but instead they all just buzz round me like I’m a set piece.

Beck told me to show up barefaced and to have several different clothing options ready, so I opted for a white sundress and my mom’s old locket with a picture of my dad inside.

The moment I walk out of the pool house, three very distinct women descend upon me. The first one, a petite Black woman, wears her hair in retro pinup curls around her face with the rest swept into a silk scarf. She runs a hand through my hair without even asking and begins to examine my roots. “Huh, not much damage.”

Another woman, this one tall and white with wavy long blond hair and the kind of makeup that looks like no makeup but actually takes a ton of skill, holds a blush compact up to my face. “Good cheekbones,” she says.

And the third and final woman, with olive-toned complexion and dressed all in black, stands a few feet back with a loose measuring tape clutched in her fist. “Definitely meatier than Beck said she would be,” she says in a thick Eastern European accent.

“Meatier?” I ask.

“That’s Irina,” says the girl with the silk scarf. “She’s wardrobe and has no filter, but compared to other wardrobe people I’ve worked with, she’s more bark than bite. I’m Ginger and I do hair. You’ll mostly do your own hair during the show—other than for one-on-ones—but I’m around for touch-ups. Same goes for makeup.”

The woman with the blush moves to inspecting my brows. “And I’m Ash. I’m technically not supposed to touch your brows, but you’ve got just…” She attacks with a pair of tweezers. “Just one hair out of place.”

I let out a low hiss. “Thanks, I think.”

The three quickly lead me into the main house, where they have a makeshift station set up for all their prepping and primping.

While Ash applies my foundation, a very fashionable woman around Erica’s age steps up to us and says, “Cindy? Hi, my name is Tammy, and I’ll be playing your stepmom today. Maybe we could run lines when you’re done?”

“Um, what?” I look to Ash for an answer, but she’s busy at work on my face. The woman is ushered away before I can ask for more details. “Beck?”

“Coming!” her voice calls from across the room. “Cindy!” she says as she approaches me from the side. “You look radiant! Isn’t Ash the best?”

“The best,” I say quickly, even though I’m not yet qualified on the topic. “But could you please explain to me why some random woman named Tammy just came up and told me that she would be playing the role of my stepmother? And apparently I have lines? I thought reality TV was supposed to be real…ish.”

“It is. Totally. But sometimes, we have to fill in the blanks a little. And Erica can’t play your stepmom for obvious reasons. Do you know how many questions that would raise? It’d be a PR nightmare. Everyone would think you only got on the show because of nepotism and connections.”

“Well,” I say, “that is how I got on the show.”

“The American people don’t need to know that. Sometimes we have to go above and beyond to keep the magic alive. This isn’t really a lie. It’s just an alternate truth.”

“Um, that sounds like a lie.”

“Lips relaxed and parted,” Ash demands.

I let out a groan through my relaxed and parted lips as she applies a sticky gloss.

“And you don’t have lines,” Beck assures me. “We just had to give Tammy some parameters to work in so she’ll have some ground rules and then improvise a little. It’ll be so natural, I promise. You won’t even know the cameras are here.”

I look around at the crew running cords and staging lights all over Erica’s living room. “Not likely,” I say through my still relaxed and parted lips.

“Oh, by the way,” says Beck, “change of plans. Anna and Drew aren’t your sisters anymore. At least not on the show. So make sure the other contestants don’t find out you’re related, okay? That would just get…messy.”

“Wait. What? I thought the whole thing was that we were three sisters vying for the suitor.”

Beck shrugs. “We’re taking a different angle with you and—”

“Beck!” someone calls for her.

“Gotta go!” she says as she disappears into the tangle of crew members.

“Angle? I have an angle? What’s my angle?”

But no one answers. My stomach flips at the thought of going at this alone. Anna and Drew will still be there, but any shot I had at hiding behind them is gone.