The Bachelor [Niall Horan]

1

I was about to get ready for the first night of The Bachelor.

Now, getting ready for The Bachelor isn't totally unheard of in the 19 year old female population. Except I'm not at the local supermarket looking for Ben and Jerry's. Instead, I'm sitting in a salon chair waiting for a stylist.

I am going to be a contestant on The Bachelor.

Two days ago I was sitting with my dad watching the Patriots and now I'm competing against 30 girls from around the country for some unknown bachelor. They had not released the name of the bachelor himself, and many people were speculating a celebrity, but I seriously doubted that.

Before I could finish my train of thought, a nice looking blonde woman walked up to my chair and smiled at my reflection.

"Are you nervous?" She asked.

"A little." I said, biting my lip.

"What's your name?" She asked with a smile.

"Mae Reynolds." I said, looking at her reflection.

"Don't worry, it will all work out exactly how it should." She promised.

"Lets make you camera ready for that limo ride!" She said, pulling my ponytail out to let my hair fall in waves.

"What kind of look are you going for?" She asked, massaging my scalp.

"I want to look like me." I said, and she laughed at my terrified expression.

"I think you're absolutely right. You are gorgeous." She said with a smile. I instantly felt more comfortable with her.

"Have you chosen a dress?" She asked while she washed my hair.

Jovani, a prom dress company, had provided what seemed like hundreds of dresses for us to choose from. It was a win win situation, we all looked age appropriate but still glamourous, and the company got to market on a popular television show.

"No I haven't even looked yet." I said with a laugh.

"Go take a look once I finish." She said, rinsing my hair.

Once my hair was wrapped in a towel, I made my way into a room set up like a boutique. There were two girls barking out orders about size and jewels and colors.

I walked over to a rack and noticed a cream colored dress with a completely beaded top.

"That would look really nice." A girl with light brown hair smiled at me.

"Really?" I asked and she nodded vigorously.

"I could never pull that off. Neither could most of the other girls. But with your skin tone it would look amazing." She said.

"I think I'm going to take your word for it." I smiled and draped the dress over my arm.

"You would trust me that fast?" She asked, genuinely curious.

"Of course. Why would you lie?" I asked with a laugh.

"Well I am willing to bet there are a few others here who aren't as nice." She said, looking over at the girls who were now wearing skin tight seethrough dresses.

I nodded, following her vision, and then smiled at her.

"Well thank you. I need to finish getting ready, but maybe I will find you later." I said before making my way back to my chair.

"Oh my gosh, honey that is perfect!" The stylist squealed, holding the dress up.

She began to curl my hair and pin it to my head, hairspraying at she went. Finally, she moved onto the makeup.

When she swiveled me toward the mirror I smiled.

"I still look like me." I said, smiling up at her.

"Of course." She promised, squeezing my shoulder.

"Are you a stylist for the show?" I asked, hoping to see her again.

She paused for a moment before smiling.

"Yeah, I will be seeing you around." She promised.

"Good." I smiled back at her.

"Now go put that dress on and I will find you heels. What size?" She asked before ushering me into the changing room and running to the makeshift boutique.

I looked into the mirror and practically gaped at the person I was seeing.

Let's pause. Please don't think this is a story about some girl who is gorgeous and doesn't believe it but she still gets the perfect guy and everyone is so happy for her.

Everyone has always told me how pretty I am, and I believe them. Before you think I am cocky, its all human nature. Just as if someone told you for years how ugly you are you would believe that you are ugly.

However, I have never looked so glamorous. Not even at my own prom!

I walked out of the fitting room to see my stylist's face light up. She held up the plain, nude heels and I took them to finish the look.

"You look unbelievable. Ni- He will freak." She said.

"Wait, do you know who the bachelor is?" I asked, hearing her catch herself.

"Oh of course not." She laughed, packing her stuff up.

"I need to sneak out. But I will see you around!" She said, filling up her bag.

"And I want you to know I am rooting for you, Mae. I had to do alot of hair and makeup today, and you are my pick." She smiled and gave me a hug.

Once she left, I made my way out toward the limos. There was already a large group waiting, and I noticed all of the skin tight dresses and heavy makeup. I felt like a little girl playing dress up next to them.

"Hello ladies!" A man in a suit said, walking over to us.

"Don't you all look lovely." He smiled and we chorused back our "thank you"s.

"Here is how this will work. We have pre-determined the limos. You will ride in them with a member of my team and they will instruct you the order to exit and all of the fine details. Remember, this is your first time meeting the bachelor so make it count." He said before calling off names for limos.

I walked over to my limo and waited quietly for my group to climb in. Once inside, a woman entered, smiling happily.

"I am Cheryl and I will be joining you! Now here is how this will work." She began as the limo drove away.

She explained that although we don't know the bachelor now, we might recognize him and to remember to make a good first impression. She also explained we have roughly one minute to make an impression before heading inside where a member of the crew will lead us to the waiting area.

"Any questions?" She asked.

"Oh my god!" One girl, a red head in a skin tight black dress, practically screamed.

Everyone jumped up and turned to look out the window.

"Girls! Sit down! Remember, first impressions!" Cheryl called to the girls who were physically climbing over the seats.

But none of us were listening to her.

Because standing outside the biggest mansion I have ever seen, was Niall Horan.