Chapter 1

I stared at the girl in the mirror with a blank expression. She was me, of course, but an entirely different version of me. My blond hair curled much more neatly than usual, and it looked like it would fall flat with a sudden movement. The makeup-lady, a girl who looked barely 20, had lined my blue eyes in brown with light-gray eyeshadow and colored my lips in shiny pink. In fact, I barely looked like the aggressive, ham-loving girl I really was. I looked like I was one purple-sequined dress away from a beauty pageant. I wrinkled my nose.

"What, don't you like it?" asked the makeup-lady, Lily.

"It's not me. It's some girly-girl who prefers to go by Samantha," I said, getting up from the chair. We were alone in one of the seeming dozens of dressing rooms in the NMTV studios. Carly and Freddie were right down the hall somewhere getting dressed-up, but probably enjoying it a lot more.

"Do you not like your outfit?" she asked. She said it in a nice voice. Actually, Lily didn't pick out the outfit. It was some other person higher up and more involved in the show. I was wearing a frilly, layered red skirt that felt a little too short to me and a white top with a screen-printed blue butterfly. Maybe it would look good on Carly, but it was not my style at all. I longed for one of my concert t-shirts and a pair of jeans.

"It would be fine... on someone else," I replied.

"I think it looks cute," Lily said. "Which shoes do you want to wear?" She offered me three choices: white ballet flats, blue flip-flops, and black Converse. I chose the last one. At least now my outfit had a little bit of me in it.

With that, I returned to the lobby. Carly must still be getting her makeup done because Freddie was the only one there. I felt my shoulders stiffen.

He was looking at me, and his mouth was opening. Don't say it, don't say it, I begged him in my head. Don't say I look beautiful because that will just make it worse.

Maybe I should explain. It was a little over two years ago, around the end of junior year. I didn't know what got into me. I kissed him during the school lock-in. But it didn't turn out perfectly, or even half-way decently. He didn't know what to say. He was practically speechless, and that was response enough for me.

He didn't love me and didn't care about me. Not in the way I wanted at least. So I walked away and wished things would just go back to normal. Carly knew about it too, the little snoop. But slowly, things got left in the past. Except every time I teased him or hit him or attacked him, I saw a little smile. A little smile that said something like "I know what you're really thinking, what you really want." Because he knew my secret, and there was no going back. I would like to say I was over him now, but I didn't really know if I was.

"You look..." he began. I closed my eyes and waited for the blow. "...different." My eyes snapped open. He didn't call me beautiful. I felt disappointed. I wanted him to say something else, right? That was what I wanted. But still, I was let down.

"Yeah. Amazing what pounds of makeup and butterfly shirts can do," I said, sitting down on a couch across from him.

He looked different as well. They must have put something in his hair, because it swooped across his forehead like a teen heartthrob wannabe's coif. His outfit wasn't so different than what he usually wore, just a t-shirt and jeans, but I suspected the brands were strictly designer. "Are you wearing any makeup?"

He paused and seemed embarrassed. "Yeah, some foundation. They insisted."

I chuckled. "Dream come true."

He rolled his eyes, and we chatted a bit. I still felt a little awkward, knowing that any second cameras could zoom around the corner and begin their invasion.

A few minutes later, Carly joined us in the lobby, looking more polished and camera-ready than ever. Her long hair was straightened perfectly, and she wore a nice floral dress with white flats. She waved to us and sat beside me.

Barely seconds after that, Simon Hensley appeared in the room. "So, kids, are you ready to get started?" We nodded, though not very enthusiastically. "Nervous? Well, don't worry. You'll get used to it soon enough. Well, where do you want to go first?"

"Um, how about the Groovy Smoothie?" I suggested. I couldn't help it. I was getting hungry already.

He seemed to study us for a few moments before saying, "Yes, that's fine. We'll drive you over. But it has to be low-fat."

I raised an eyebrow at him. Was he trying to say something? "You don't have to worry, Simon. I have the highest metabolism in Washington state."

The three of us were sitting at our usual table in the Groovy Smoothie, feeling self-conscious. The bright lights made sweat bead on my forehead, and I could see my reflection in the camera lenses that surrounded me. Worst of all, I couldn't think of a single thing to say.

"So... Um, it's summer," said Carly, awkwardly.

"Yeah, summer. That's great," I said, playing with a strand of hair.

"Whoa, whoa, cut!" shouted Simon suddenly. He stepped into our the camera's view briefly and waved his hands. Then he looked at me with a rather annoyed expression. "Sam, you can't twirl your hair like that. It blocks our shot of Freddie's face. Okay?"

"Why would you want a shot of Fredward's face, anyway?" I snapped. "I mean, look at it. It's like a monkey face. And not a cute monkey. A baboon face."

"Sam!" cried Freddie. "Can you please lay off the insults just this once? We're going to be on national television after all."

"I don't think it's humanly possible for me to lay off the insults. Insulting you is like crack to me. You don't want me to go into withdrawal, do you?"

"Come on, Sam. We all know what you really want to do," he said, his voice taking on a teasing tone.

"And what would that be?" I demanded, my mood flaring into anger.

"You may find this interesting," Freddie said, looking straight into the camera with a slight smirk on his lips. "Sam Puckett and I have always been like this, arguing and fighting each other. But one time in the tenth grade—"

"Stop!" I cried, my eyes widening. "Shut up, Benson!"

"One time in the tenth grade, she out of the blue kissed me. Since then, I've always known that deep down, Sam Puckett is in love with me."

I don't know what to say to that. I want to run away and hide in the bathroom, but I know that I can't. The cameras caught every second of that, and if I run, I'll just confirm that. "He wishes. That's all a complete lie."

"Then why did you want me to shut up?"

"I just didn't want you to make of fool of yourself, Benson. You don't understand reality TV very well yet."

"It's a true story. Is that dramatic enough for you?" Freddie said, looking at Simon.

Simon glanced at us. "Well, it was pretty dramatic, but you can't be talking directly to the camera. I'll whip up a script, and we can film it again in a couple minutes. Hang tight, you guys."

"What? There's no way, I'd do that. I'm not going through that humiliation again," I said, glaring at Simon.

"Remember the contract? You agreed to it, you know. You have to follow what ever minor changes I suggest."

"That's not minor."

"It is, in my opinion. And that's the opinion that counts."

I felt miserable as I sat on Carly's couch, ready to watch the rough edit of our first episode. We'd filmed different scenes around town for about a week, and then Simon had spliced together what the pilot would sort of end up looking like. He was going to show it to test audiences, who would make suggestions about how to improve the show. Then, we'd film some more, he'd edit some more, and eventually, we'd have our first episode.

I watched the title screen play, iCarly: The Continuation. Carly was the first on the scene, getting ready to go to the Groovy Smoothie. Of course, she hadn't actually done her hair herself, they'd just edited it to look that way. A professional hairstylist had styled it for her.

Then, the scene cut to Carly meeting me and Freddie at our table. After many takes, we'd managed to conduct a somewhat interesting conversation, involving our lives post-iCarly. Carly brought up her unrequited crush on Cameron Sykes, sure to be a recurring theme. That was, if he agreed to sign some sort of contract. Finally, we reached the entirely scripted retelling of Freddie and my conversation.

"I told you, there is no such thing as a ham fairy!" cried Freddie, quite convincingly.

Carly sighed and rolled her eyes. "Why do guys have to fight all the time? It's gets so annoying."

"Have you seen his face?" I snarled. "How can I be nice to that? It's like monkey face, and not a cute monkey. A baboon."

"Sam, can you please lay off the insults just this once?"

"I don't think it's humanly possible for me to lay off the insults. Insulting you is like crack to me. You don't want me to go into withdrawal, do you?"

"Come on, Sam. We all know what you really want to do," he said.

"And what would that be?" I demanded, glowering.

"You want to kiss me, be with me, whatever. I've known ever since you randomly kissed me in tenth grade. You pretend like it never happened, but I remember."

I glared at him, and I felt actual anger at that point. "That was two years ago, you dork. Why would you think I'd still want to kiss you? For all I remember, I was high or something. Anyway, I can't even remember what it felt like. You're that unmemorable, Fredward."

"You're lying."

"Wouldn't you want that? Well, too bad. You won't get me. Why don't you go back to crying over your ex, Ashley? I'm sure she'd like to know you've been bawling like a baby for two months." Then I turned away from him in my seat and sipped my smoothie loudly.

"Guys, let's stop fighting now," said Carly, ever the peacekeeper. "Good job, we're calm. Why don't we take a walk or something? I hear they're very stress relieving."

I frowned as I watched the scene because I actually came off as really mean in it. Even I didn't usually go quite that far in my insults. I hoped I would still come off as a likable character to the audience, but somehow I was doubting it.

For the rest of the episode, they focused on Carly mentoring Spencer about his woman problems. He'd just had another breakup. That guy just couldn't keep a relationship past a week. There was also a few scenes between Freddie and his ultra-crazy mother, who somehow seemed even more whacked on screen than in person. They also had a few scenes of me working at McDonald's and flipping out on a customer. I had wanted to quit my job, but they insisted it would give them more income because they'd get paid by McDonald's for advertising them.

The episode hadn't turned out that bad at all. I actually thought it was kind of funny and entertaining. I just wished that the scripted scene between Freddie and I hadn't happened. I really didn't want the information out there.

"That wasn't that terrible," I said. "I don't think I'll be completely embarrassed to show my face in public over that."

"I like it," said Carly. "But the one scene..."

"Let's try to ignore it," I said. "Otherwise, it was okay."

Freddie nodded in agreement. "We'll give Simon our seal of approval tomorrow. Should we tell him about the argument scene? I mean, I don't like it at all. I shouldn't have said those things in the first place. I'm sorry about that, Sam."

"It's okay, Fredward. But I don't think Simon will be willing. He needs some drama or the show will just fail."

"You're probably right."

A few days later, Simon walked up to us at work with a serious expression on his face. "I showed the first episode to a few audiences. They really liked it. They think you guys are great stars, and the show is funny and unexpected."

"That's good," said Carly.

"But they had a few suggestions as well." Simon paused and looked at us seriously. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but we need to take these things into consideration. They really like you two, Sam and Freddie. They love your fire and chemistry."

"Excuse me?" I croaked, my stomach turning.

"I think what we have to do is flesh out the Sam and Freddie love-hate relationship, culminating in a true dating experience. That's what the viewers want."

"But it's just the first episode," said Freddie, looking worried. "How can they know..."

"We need to hook the audience, and your relationship is part of the core of the show. It'll give people a reason to tune in." He looked down at the note card in his hand. "Also, they want Carly to get a boyfriend, but not this Cameron guy. They think he's average-looking. They want you to get with a hot bad-boy."

"But..." Carly began.

"Don't worry, we've already cast him. He's adorable. You'll love him," Simon said.

"What do you mean, you cast him?" she asked. "I thought this was a reality show. Unless I'm mistaken, I don't typically cast my boyfriends."

"It is a reality show. I'm sure you'll get along great. Now, are you guys ready to film?"

I stared at him, feeling positively sick. This was definitely going a lot worse than I'd thought. I glanced over at Freddie and Carly, who were both thinking the same thing. What had we gotten ourselves into?

Thanks a lot of reading. I'm sorry this chapter took so long, but I got really into my other story Don't You Remember. If you like this, check my other stories out as well. Please leave any comments and suggestions to make this better. Thank you!