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The Charm Offensive

Author:Alison Cochrun

The Charm Offensive

Alison Cochrun

For Heather, Meredith, and Michelle—because everyone knows the female friendships are the best part

THE FIRST NIGHT OF FILMING

Pasadena, California—Saturday, June 5, 2021

20 Contestants and 64 Days Remaining

Dev

Dev Deshpande knows the exact moment he started believing in happily ever after.

He is ten years old, sitting cross-legged in his living room, staring up at the television in awe at Ever After. It’s like the stories he reads before bed, tented under Star Wars sheets long after his parents have told him to turn out the lights—stories about knights and towers and magic kisses. It’s like the movies he watches with his babysitter Marissa, stories about corsets and handsome men with dour faces and silent dances that say everything. Stories that make his heart feel too big for his small body.

Except Ever After is better than those stories because it’s real. It’s reality television.

On-screen, a beautiful blond man extends a jeweled tiara to a woman in a pink dress. “Are you interested in becoming my princess?”

The woman sheds a single tear as music swells in the background. “Yes. Yes!” She claps her hands over her mouth, and the man rests the crown on the woman’s head, gold against her golden hair. The golden couple embrace with a kiss.

He’s mesmerized by this world of horse-drawn carriages and ball gowns and big romantic gestures. The foreign travel destinations and the swoon-worthy kisses against brick walls while fireworks go off in the distance. This world where happily ever afters are guaranteed. He watches, and he imagines himself as one of the women, being waltzed around the ballroom by a handsome prince.

“Turn off that anachronistic, patriarchal bullshit,” his mother snaps as she comes into the house carrying two grocery bags, one under each arm.

But Dev didn’t turn off that anachronistic, patriarchal bullshit. In fact, he did the opposite. He joined it.

“A toast!” he declares as he sloshes the rest of the champagne into the glasses held in eager, outstretched hands all around him. “To beginning the quest to find love!”

He is twenty-eight years old, sitting in the back of a limo with five drunk women on the first night of filming a new season of Ever After. There’s a former beauty queen, a travel blogger, a medical student, a software engineer, and a Lauren. They’re all beautiful and brilliant and masking nerves with copious amounts of limo champagne, and when they finally arrive at the castle gates, the women raise their glasses excitedly. Dev takes an obligatory sip of champagne and wishes for something slightly stronger to dull the current aching of his too-big heart.

For the next nine weeks, these are the contestants he’ll coach for the cameras, guiding them through Group Quests and Crowning Ceremonies, helping to craft their perfect love stories. If he does his job right, in nine weeks one of these women will receive the Final Tiara, the proposal, the happily ever after.

And maybe then Dev will forget that in his own life, happily ever afters are never guaranteed.

He plasters on his best producer smile. “Okay, ladies! It’s almost time to meet your Prince Charming!” A chorus of shrieks fills the limo, and he waits for it to die down. “I’m going to go check in with our director. I’ll be right back.”

On cue, a production assistant opens the limo door for him. He steps out of the car. “Hey, babe,” Jules says condescendingly. “How are you doing?”

He slings his handler bag over his chest. “Don’t patronize me.”

She’s already pivoted and started her brisk march up the hill toward the castle. “If you don’t want to be patronized, I guess you don’t need these”—she pulls a bag of mint Oreos out from under her arm—“to stave off your crippling depression.”

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