Chapter 4

Lauren hasn't missed an episode of Hopelessly Devoted since middle school. She remembers falling for the show in eighth grade, eating vegan ice cream with Rachel (and, years later, Damian), and wondering aloud why the Devotees hadn't done any fucking research before humiliating themselves on TV. Everything about the show was predictable, from the manufactured nemeses to the inevitable hometown drama. Everything repeated itself.

And Lauren loved it. She followed every woman on Instagram, lurked every message board, argued with her friends over who had the cutest outfits. She watched her favorite contestants' follower counts skyrocket and thought, Yeah, I could do that. While Rachel—and Damian, actually—always joked that they'd love to apply to date the muscular, all-American, vulnerable-but-never-too-vulnerable Romantics, Lauren imagined herself eating catered meals at the chateau, gossiping with and about the other women, and immediately, easily, effortlessly entering an online cult of beautiful people who get paid to shill all-natural wine and face cleansers.

She'd never have to work. Hell, she'd never have to do anything. Eventually, she realized she wasn't attracted to men at all, but that didn't change her desire to go on the show, because to Lauren, the show was never really about the men in the first place.

Rachel first nominated her several seasons back when Lauren was about to graduate from college, after a few glasses of rosé and a particularly dramatic episode. Damian had given her a pointed look, one that silently asked Are you gonna tell her you're super gay? She had given him a look back (one that silently answered No). Months later, the three of them—Lauren, Rachel, and Damian—all assumed that production had passed on her, because they never reached back out. Maybe the casting team found some kind of evidence of Lauren's sexuality, or maybe she just didn't have enough TikTok followers at the time to really stand out. But for some reason, a chipper casting director called her last spring after finding her long-forgotten application in a virtual slush pile. It had been years, but the casting team thought she'd be a perfect fit for this season's Hopeless Romantic, he said, and was she still single?

It's weird now, being on the show instead of watching it from the couch in her Newark apartment. She still hasn't decided if she'll watch the season back once she gets home. Because the season airs in near real time (every Monday, following the week the episode was shot), the Devotees are all strictly cut off from the outside world while filming. They're prohibited from watching any clips or even reading any commentary while they're still in the running, a rule that Lauren really didn't expect anyone would actually enforce. She thought that maybe she could somehow get on an easy-to-manipulate producer's good side, but not yet. She's only allowed to check her phone every three days, under producer supervision, and post vague Instagram updates with network-approved hashtags. It's hell.

Other than that, though, it's everything she thought it would be.

"I really need to get some sleep," says Lily, the grad student from Texas. It might be the third time she's said this. "Do the one-on-ones always go this late?"

"I'm sure she'll be back soon." Kaydie.

Pia jumps in. "McKenzie, are you excited for yours?"

"So, so excited. Lauren, I'm surprised you didn't get one," McKenzie says in a tone that could probably be construed as either genuine or condescending. Lauren thinks it might be the latter, but she also thinks that might be giving McKenzie too much credit.

"Wait, me?" Lauren H. responds, a little too quickly.

"No, no, the other Lauren," McKenzie clarifies. "I mean, she got his first impression ribbon."

First of all, Lauren wants to say, I am not the other Lauren. She's the other Lauren. Hello? Even alphabetically, I come first. Instead, she says, "Well, I would've loved that, but I'm sure I'll get time with him on the group date. I do feel like we have something, you know?"

"Um, duh. We all do. That's why he didn't cut our strings," says Gabi, the so-called "Italian princess." This girl is clearly gunning for the role of this season's villain, which is a strategy Lauren would respect if she weren't so fucking annoying. She wants to reply that actually, she had an uncuttable ribbon, not a string, but she doesn't know if she'd get a girlboss edit or a bitchy one and she doesn't want to risk it.

Kaydie starts to say something in response, but she's cut short by the sound of heels clacking against the tiled floor. It's Krystin, dressed in a long, sparkly number. Lauren can't tell if she's blushing or just wearing $100 worth of Ulta products—probably both—but she's pretty sure she's the only one actually looking at her face. Everyone else is looking at the date ribbon tied to her wrist.

"Oh my God! Girl, tell us everything," the last remaining Ashley says. She scooches over on the sofa and pats the spot next to her, and Krystin smiles gratefully before taking a seat.

"I … truly, I don't even know what to say. It was perfect, and he's such a gentleman, but y'all know that," she says. "It was the most fun I've ever had on a date. I'll tell you this: Josh doesn't know how to play a good game of paintball, but he definitely knows how to make a girl feel special."

The other women all giggle, and Lauren imagines watching the show at home—watching this specific scene, followed by a cut to Krystin's confessional. She'll probably say some shit like, "He also sure knows how to kiss." After all, the producers basically begged Lauren to go into vivid detail about Josh's makeout prowess.

"What did you talk about?" Ashley grabs Krystin's arm.

"Well, I got to tell him about growing up in Montana. And rodeo." She looks at the ground and smiles. "We talked about our families, too. I think we really have a lot of the same values."

"That's so sweet," Hilarie gushes. "I hope I get to have a one-on-one soon. I'd love a chance to tell Josh my story."

"I'm just hoping to get some time with him during tomorrow's group date," Kaydie says. "I have a really good feeling about this one."

"I hate to cut this short, but now that Krystin's back, can I go get my five hours of sleep?" Lily interrupts. "Call time's early tomorrow, and I need to run at least two miles when I wake up. My personal trainer will kill me if I don't."

"Fine by me." Krystin stands up and tucks a perfect curl behind her ear. "I'm exhausted from all that physical activity." Even though Lauren's pretty sure she was talking about the paintball, she catches a few of the women exchanging meaningful glances.

As they all head up the spiral staircase, Lauren finds herself walking in step with Krystin. "Physical activity, huh?" she asks.

Krystin blushes. "From playing paintball," she emphasizes, lowering her voice. "We re-created 10 Things I Hate About You."

Lauren shrugs. "There was a pretty hot makeout during that paintball scene. If I remember correctly."

"We did kiss," Krystin admits. She glances at the other women, who are all several paces ahead. "It was … you know. Hot."

The words sound awkward coming out of her mouth, almost forced. She's probably just shy, Lauren reasons, or maybe tired. "I can imagine," Lauren says, not breaking eye contact.

For some reason, Krystin's flush deepens.

About seven hours later, Lauren's in a room with Pepto Bismol–colored walls and a silver, tiled floor. A huge, neon sign insists that GIRLS SHINE; Lauren can't tell if it's an order or a statement.

"Where are we? Does anyone know?" Pia whispers.

"At least this isn't something outdoorsy," Hilarie responds. "If they try to make us go dirt biking like they did on Nate's season, I might just cut my losses."

Suddenly, the hot pink wall under GIRLS SHINE opens to reveal Josh and a dark-haired woman in a jade green dress. Everyone inexplicably starts cheering, and Lauren thinks Pia and Hilarie are whispering about how cute Josh looks. But she's staring behind GIRLS SHINE at what look like racks and racks of little black dresses, skin-tight skirts, and Y2K-inspired halter tops.

"Hi, ladies. Welcome to the first group date!" Josh looks downright exuberant. "I'd like you to meet a good friend of mine. Melissa Garza is the CEO of ShineGirl—a website that, well, I'm guessing some of you are familiar with."

At that, the girls start squealing. Madison is practically frothing at the mouth, and Pia grabs Lauren's arm.

"At ShineGirl, we believe it shouldn't cost a fortune to look Instagram-ready. Whether you're looking for a dress that will make Josh swoon on your next one-on-one or some cozy loungewear to rock around the chateau, we have, well, everything!" Melissa pauses for emphasis, and Lauren won't lie: Now she's tempted to cheer. She's been trying to become a ShineGirl affiliate for months. And so has everyone else in the room, given their reactions. "Josh, would you like to tell them a bit more about how today's date will work?"

"Absolutely," he says. "You'll see that behind me is a collection of, um, some of ShineGirl's trendiest looks this season. Melissa and I thought it would be fun to prepare a fashion show."

"You'll have just thirty minutes to create the most ‘you' outfit possible. We've got shoes, we've got makeup, we've got accessories," Melissa continues. "Our photographer, Trevor, will snap some pics for ShineGirl's Instagram, and then you'll each have a moment to strut your stuff for Josh, who will pick tonight's lucky date ribbon recipient. Oh, and that winner won't just get some alone time with our Romantic. She'll also get a $5,000 ShineGirl gift card! Are you all ready?"

Everyone shrieks and shouts.

"Go!" Melissa says, and the women make a beeline to the storeroom behind Josh and Melissa. It's astonishing to Lauren that, just hours ago, these girls would've mauled each other for time alone with Josh; now, they're pushing past him to beat each other to the perfect miniskirt. The thought gives her an idea, but she knows she needs to wait.

Hilarie's reaching for a pink leather bodycon dress, and Lily is holding two pairs of heeled sandals. Everyone seems to have the same strategy: Hoard as much as you can to block anyone else from creating a runway-worthy look. It's so elementary.

Stalling, Lauren grabs a flimsy black slip dress and some chunky heels, and maneuvers through the room, trying not to physically run into any of the other contestants. Finally, she finds a producer guarding the door. "Twenty-two minutes left," he says automatically.

"Where's Josh?" Lauren asks.

"You'll see him in …" The producer looks at his watch. "Yeah, twenty-one minutes and thirty-three seconds."

"No, no, I need to talk to Josh. It's important. On-camera is totally fine."

The producer—Lauren thinks his name might be Tim, or Tom, something like that—sighs. "Wait here."

Moments later, Tim returns with Josh (and a cameraperson) in tow. "Lauren! Hey!" he says, his eyes lighting up.

"Josh," she says, before taking a deep, dramatic breath. Her voice lowers. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Hey, hey. Let's go talk," Josh says, nodding at the camera. He puts his arm on the small of Lauren's back and leads her back into the Pepto-pink waiting room. The other women are, for the most part, too wrapped up in playing dress-up to even notice Josh, but Lauren briefly makes eye contact with Gabi, who narrows her eyes.

"It's just that, like, you've seen those girls, right?" Lauren tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Their bodies are insane, you know? They all have perfect, toned arms and Kendall Jenner legs and—" She cuts herself off before she accidentally mentions any of their asses. For some reason, an image of Rodeo Queen Krystin riding her fake little horse flashes through her mind, and she swallows, her throat suddenly dry. "It's just hard not to feel insecure on a group date like this one."

Josh nods. "Honestly, I'm just so glad you're opening up to me about this. This is the kind of thing I want to know about you."

"I know I'm hot. Like, I know that on paper, my friends always say I have weirdly perky boobs and princess hair." Lauren sniffles. "But seeing how confident these girls are is just getting to me, you know? Kaydie has an actual modeling agent. How can I compete with that?"

"By being Lauren C.," Josh responds, with so much stoic sincerity that she almost wants to laugh. "You know, when I first saw you, I thought, ‘That girl's drop-dead beautiful, and she's got confidence.'"

"And now?" She gives him a shaky smile.

He reaches for her hand. "Now, you're letting me see the real you. And I have a feeling you're about to wow me on that runway."

Lauren lets out a small, forced laugh. "There probably aren't any good dresses left. I'll have to get creative."

"I'm excited to see what you come up with." Josh stands, squeezes her hand, and gestures back toward the treasure trove of clothing. "You've got this."

"Ten minutes," Tom-or-Tim says. He gives Lauren a stern look, which, honestly, is pretty rude—she's making great TV right now.

"Thanks so much, Jim," Josh replies, clapping him on the back.

Jim.Well, Lauren was pretty close. "Thank you, for real," she echoes.

"Nine minutes and twenty-eight seconds. Hurry up," Jim says, and Lauren gives Josh her best grateful, girl-next-door smile before returning to the now-depleted ShineGirl showroom. No one is left, and no clothing is left on any of the rotating racks, either, aside from a lace-trimmed, cow print nightie, a cropped graphic tee, and a few sad, tie-dyed halter tops.

"Shit," Lauren mutters. She looks down at the dress and heels she snagged fifteen minutes ago. She could wear that and hope for the best. Or …

Lauren drops the outfit on a nearby neon orange armchair and follows the din of chatter and laughter toward the fitting rooms. Many of the doors are locked shut, but evidently, more than a few women have already moved on to hair and makeup. The smart ones, of course, left their dressing rooms locked, but Lauren easily slips into an abandoned stall full of someone else's reject items.

"Five minutes," another producer announces. Someone shrieks from the next fitting room over, and Lauren hears another door slam open and shut. Heart pounding, she tears through the pile of dresses and rompers with the kind of intense, fast-paced focus and fervor she usually reserves for scrolling through Newark Tinder. Finally, she lands on a metallic, emerald-colored bandeau bikini top, and within seconds, she's stripping down naked. The cups are a size too small; the cheap polyester fabric scratches Lauren's skin as she tries to fix a pretty unfortunate underboob situation. But with a little strategic reassembling, she looks Jersey Boardwalk-ready.

"Three minutes, ladies."

Lauren shimmies into the matching bikini bottom and reaches for a baby blue flannel robe. She takes a deep breath, steps into the nearest pair of size seven heels, and heads back to meet the rest of the women back in the waiting room.

Pia, who looks stunning in a deep red maxi dress, fixes her dark eyes on Lauren's get-up. "Well, you look cozy."

"I'm really out of my comfort zone here," Lauren says under her breath. "But anything for Josh, right?"

"Right," Lily interjects, sidling up to them both. She pulls at Lauren's bathrobe sleeve. "Wait, I could've sworn I grabbed this one."

"Five … four … three …" Jim walks out of the showroom, trailed by two straggling contestants. "Two … one. Okay, everyone, it's go time. Follow me."

He leads the women into a massive elevator with mirrored walls that make Lauren feel like she's in a funhouse. A few of the Devotees are eyeing her outfit, but for the most part, the women are chattering about Sarah-with-an-H and Jenna, whose satin, plunge-neck dresses are nearly identical. Jenna is glowering, and Sarah looks like she's one pointed comment away from a panic attack.

"I should've just said ‘fuck it' and worn glorified pajamas like Lauren C.," Jenna snaps. "At least she'll stand out."

"Trust me, modeling is about way more than what you wear," Kaydie pipes up. "It's how you wear it. How much fun you have in it. There's a reason Revolve pays me—"

"More than your friend Arielle. We know," Lauren mutters to herself, but even though about twenty people are packed into the elevator, no one catches her comment; no one else even reacts when Kaydie finishes her sentence by bringing up her modeling frenemy for the billionth time. For a moment, Lauren feels completely, disarmingly alone.

The elevator opens into a green room, and the girls spill out onto the pastel velvet couches. Jim murmurs something into a headset and then clears his throat. "Got that. Kaydie, you're up first," Jim says. "Pia's next. Follow me."

"I hope I'm not last," Hilarie says. Her shiny pink top is, for lack of a better word, shedding, and she keeps nervously brushing rogue sequins off of her black leather pants. "Or do you think it would be good to go last? Maybe, right?"

"Maybe." All Lauren can think about is the tight fabric under her robe. She's slightly concerned about an accidental nip slip, but hasn't decided yet if that might actually help her chances at winning that gift card. Josh, like many men, seems very susceptible to the damsel-in-distress thing.

Hilarie looks like she's about to reply, but she's interrupted by another directive from Jim. "I'm going to need you all to line up, okay?" he says. "Hilarie, Jenna, Sarah K., you're on deck." Because of course the two girls in the matching dresses have to go back-to-back.

"Wish me luck." Hilarie sucks in a breath, taps Lauren's sleeve, and jumps out of her seat.

Lauren's name is the last one called, just after Gabi's. "Here goes," she whispers to herself—really, to the cameras. And then, she strides onstage to the beat of the music, a clubby remix of what sounds like an Alessia Cara rip-off. By the time she's made it to the end of the stage, she shakes off the robe; after deliberating for a split second, she tosses it into the audience. Her eyes lock on Josh's, and he mouths something she can't decipher. She blows him a kiss and struts back to the green room, dizzy with the confidence that she's just twenty minutes away from a win.

The second Lauren walks through the door, the room goes silent—except for Madison, who lets out a gasp. "Did you …"

"I was really nervous, but wanted to challenge myself. For Josh, of course." Lauren plops down on the couch. "You know what they say: fake it 'til you make it."

"Sure," Gabi says, crossing her arms and giving her a full-body scan.

She's probably drafting out her next scathing confessional, but Lauren couldn't give less of a shit. Especially when Penny, the fresh-faced producer who looks like she could be on Hopelessly Devoted herself, bursts through the door. "Hi, girls. If you'll follow me, it's time for a very special announcement."

After another quick jaunt in the elevator, they're back in the showroom. Josh and Melissa walk in moments later.

"You ladies really wowed me today," Josh says. "I mean, I had no idea there were so many ways to accessorize a dusty pink cocktail dress! But Jenna and Sarah K., you both really made that outfit your own."

Jenna tries to hide her scowl, and Lauren wonders if it was Melissa who fed Josh this line or a drama-hungry producer. Either way, there's no world in which a twenty-seven-year-old man dressed in khakis would have thoughts on someone's ability to "accessorize a dusty pink cocktail dress."

"As Josh said before, with each date comes a date ribbon! Now, he's going to give one lucky Devotee a date ribbon—and some extra one-on-one time before tonight's cocktail party," Melissa adds. "And a $5,000 ShineGirl gift card! Josh, I'll let you take it from here."

"Thanks, Melissa." His eyes jump from woman to woman, and they linger on Lauren for a beat too long—which reminds her she's still in a skimpy bikini and heels. "Pia, you clearly know your way around a runway. And Kaydie, I was so impressed that you managed a wardrobe change halfway through! You all brought your damn best to this group date, but one person really stood out."

Lauren has to remind herself to breathe.

"Lauren C.," Josh says. "I know today wasn't easy for you. But you really put yourself out there, and if there's one thing I want in a partner, it's someone who can let herself be vulnerable, even when it's scary. Will you accept this group date ribbon?"

"Of course I will," Lauren says, unable to stop smiling. "Excuse me, Jenna."

She's pretty sure Gabi is muttering something under her breath to Madison—and Jenna, of course, is still fuming—but she doesn't care.

"Thank you," she whispers to Josh. Then, because she can't help it, she turns to Melissa. "I have to tell you that, as a woman who's also built her own brand from the ground up, I think you've done something so amazing with ShineGirl. I'm so excited to keep wearing your stuff."

"Well, you'll probably want this, then," Melissa says, handing her the gift card. "And ladies, I mean it: You all sparkled today. I wish I could give out twenty-three gift cards—and unlimited time with this special guy right here—but unfortunately, I can't. I would, however, love for you all to keep the outfits you're wearing right now."

The reactions to this are varied. Pia, Hilarie, and Lily look excited, but Jenna looks like she'd rather send herself back to Atlanta than ever match Sarah-with-an-H again.

"I hope the rest of your journey with Josh is magical," Melissa gushes. "And remember: Never let anyone dull your shine."