Work Header

The Final Rose

Work Text:

Chris stood next to Brock O'Hurn waiting to be put out of his misery.

It's not that he didn't want to win a one-on-one date with Mackenzie, god, did he ever, but he just figured he'd be no competition for Brock, fucking, O'Hurn.

Chris fidgeted with his hands inside and outside of his pockets. Brock turned towards him. "Dude, never let the world hold you back from what you want. Never settle." He flashed a toothy grin. All Chris wanted to do was cry in a corner.

He knew that he'd never be able to tuck Mackenzie's straw colored locks behind her left ear, or watch her eyes grow wide with horror if she farted in front of him. He just knew that she would never really be into him. Girls like her weren't into guys like Chris. Sure, he was athletic, he did go to college on a soccer scholarship, but god, compared to a guy like Brock he wasn't. Mackenzie probably thought all Chris did was beat off to past cast members head shots. She wasn't too far off from the truth if she assumed that.

Chris watched as Tucker, some new PA that was scared shitless of his first real job gingerly clipped a microphone to her sequined gown. The gown accentuated her bust in just the perfect way. What Chris wouldn't give to nuzzle his face between the valley of her breasts and kiss there until his lips grew tired. He shook his head to snap out of it.

Mackenzie flashed a smile towards the both of them, but winked only at Brock. "Great," Chris muttered to himself. He just wanted to be rejected already so he could go home and watch Merlin. He wished Merlin and Arthur would just bang but realized that the world is an unfair place and no matter how badly you want something it wasn't always a guarantee.

Chris thought about the first group date he had with Mackenzie. Brock was there too, but so was Ben H. and Shawn B. from Kaitlyn Bristowe's season. Chris had no idea what made them "celebrities" but whatever. ABC gave him the ultimatum to do the show or find a new way to get a paycheck. He had just ordered one of those $40,000 real sex dolls from China, so he was definitely trying to keep his job.

The group date was a drink and paint party, but everyone was mainly drinking. The only thing on set at The Bachelorette that was real at any given time was definitely the alcohol. They expected cast members to live on protein bars and the occasional steak dinner provided by Denny's.

Chris was trying very hard to paint a stupid fucking daffodil the right shade of yellow. He just wanted Mackenzie to pick him for their next one-on-one so bad, and he thought maybe instead of trying to get under her tight, blue and white striped dress, that if he would just PAINT THE FUCKING FLOWER, that maybe she'd think he was a stand up kind of guy. If only he realized then that integrity got you nowhere.

Mackenzie leaned over him, slightly slopping Chardonnay on his dress pants.

"Chriissss!" she said between hiccups. "What a pretty flower. Do you think I'm pretty like this flower?" Mackenzie burped, laughed, and then hiccuped some more. Chris prayed that she wasn't going to throw up on his painting that he worked really hard on, but he also wanted to tell her yes, he thought she was beautiful, but beautiful paled in comparison to what she actually was. Mackenzie was exquisite.

Chris took too long to respond before she was already halfway onto the lap of Brock. Whispering something into his ear, who knew what. Lucky fucking Brock O'Hurn. Brock saw Chris watching them, brush held limply in his hand, yellow paint mere millimeters away from dripping onto his pants.

"Dude, watch your brush. Don't want to finish anything too early." Mackenzie must have thought that was the funniest thing she had ever heard because she was physically clutching her side with laughter. Chris moved his brush just in time for yellow oil paint to stain the front of his black Calvin Klein dress pants. He tried so hard not to show any other emotion other than feigned interest, but god, at that moment he just wanted to scream "FUCK YOU" to the top of his lungs, break a few bottles, and tear a few canvases in half with his bare hands.

Chris shook his head to get that shitty group date out of his head. Why couldn't Mackenzie just pull the trigger already? What the fuck was taking Tucker so long with his mic? Did Chris have any klonopin back at his house?

"Alright you assmunchers, we're getting ready to roll so DON'T FUCKING MAKE NOISE UNLESS YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO" the director shouted. "Aaaaaand action!"

Mackenzie fluttered her eyelashes a few times, tears starting to well up. Chris wondered if she was thinking about that time she had an anal bead lodged in her ass for 3 days straight. She shared that secret with only him and only when she was balls deep in some merlot. But it was something only Chris knew. He thought he was special.

"Chris, Brock, I just want you to know, that the time I have spent with you both has been so precious and sacred." Mackenzie's lip started to quiver. "That making the decision of who gets the one-on-one date rose is the hardest of my entire life."

Chris figured she was definitely lying, and sort of wished the writers would find filler other than 'This is the hardest decision of my life' for this speech portion.

"Brock. These past few weeks have been like a fairy tale. From riding on the beach with you bareback on a horse, to romping around in a field of wild flowers. You have truly showed me what love, companionship, and friendship are." She nodded at Brock reassuringly, like yep, that rose was definitely going to that Greek fucking Adonis over there.

"Chris. I've only known you through television before our journey together, and you seemed warm-hearted and sincere. You are both of those things in real life too."

While Chris was touched by what Mackenzie said, that was all she said. Nothing about the secret sharing, the late night cries, the drink and paint party, nothing.

Mackenzie let out a big breath.

"Brock, I'm sorry, but this rose is not for you."

Chris felt a trickle of liquid run down his pants. He very literally, just pissed himself, the slow scent of urine wafting up to his nose.

Brock strode towards Mackenzie.

"Never settle" he quietly said into her hair, while casually sliding one hand over her right ass cheek. He kissed the side of her cheek and walked off set.

Chris thought surely that she read the wrong name on the card. That the producers would have her head on a steak for her mistake.

"Chris. I extend the offer of a one-on-one date with you because I haven't gotten to know you very well. My momma always said to never judge a cover by its book, and it's because of her modesty that I ask you now, will you accept this rose?"

Chris whispered breathlessly, "Yes." He felt like he finally did it. Got the golden ticket, won the million dollars, crossed the finish line first, he finally got his moment in the sun, and his prize was Mackenzie. Beautiful vapid Mackenzie.