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009 | the one they told you not to worry about

chapter nine:
the one they told you not to worry about

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"Hey, dingdongs! We've figured out what's happened here."

     Beth suppresses the urge to roll her eyes. Usually she can contain herself, but never has she met a person as obnoxious as Trevor — actually no, not a person. A demon. In the most literal sense.

     "You two are both named Eleanor Shellstrop," says Trevor, gesticulating to the two Eleanors seated in Michael's office. "The day you died, you were both in Phoenix, Arizona shopping at the same grocery store."

     Michael adds, "The real Eleanor was attending a conference on the death penalty, and you stopped by to pick up food for a local homeless shelter. And fake Eleanor was there buying margarita mix and a magazine called Celebrity Baby Plastic Surgery Disasters. Incredibly, you both died in the same 10,000ths of a second in the same traffic accident, because Real Eleanor was trying to save Fake Eleanor's life by pushing you out of the way of the truck."

     "I guess you really botched that one, huh?" Eleanor — the fake one, apparently — scoffs.

     "I did, and I am so, so sorry," the real Eleanor apologises profusely (Beth is hating this mix-up already).

     The whole story does bother Beth, though. "It does seem odd, to think of the very slim chance that they were in the same place at the same time," she thinks aloud.

     "But they were, Beth," Michael insists with a sigh, "it's all in the facts."

     "I know. It just seems... convenient."

     Beth isn't quite sure where she would be going with this. This whole debate about Real Eleanor and Fake Eleanor just rubs her the wrong way. And every time she looks at Eleanor's discomforted expression — the so-called fake one — she just feels awful. More importantly, it makes her selfishly hope and pray that if another Beth Ardon exists, she is the bad person and is already in the Bad Place.

     "So, how did you not realise you had the wrong Eleanor?" Chidi inquires.

     "That's what I wanna know, too," Sanjay adds with concern.

     "Oh, we don't know what people look like... only names and profiles," Michael explains. "On Earth, they're just dots on a map."

     Furrowing her brows, Beth frowns. "Again, if you don't mind me saying, seems pretty flimsy—"

     Trevor cuts her off and sits on the edge of the desk, reeking of devilishness. "Whatever! We got our wires crossed, we picked up the wrong dot, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah..." This goes on for a considerable amount of time, during which Beth wonders if he will ever stop before she can lash out. Finally, he does: "Point is, there are two Eleanors. The nice, boring one is yours. The trash bag is ours. So, trash bag, let's go!"

     Blindsided, Eleanor — real, fake, who cares?! — stammers. "W– what?"

     "Let's hit it. And also... I'm still waiting on that smile, gorgeous."

     Creep, Beth thinks.

     Before he can get too skin-crawling, Michael interjects. "Trevor! How about we negotiate? Maybe give you something else."

     "What in the world could you have that we would want?" he scoffs.

     "Alright, how about... a unicorn? Right? I bet you don't have one of those."

     Just as Beth is questioning if unicorns even exist, Trevor's eyes light up in awe. "No, that is true, yeah. Might be fun to skin it alive, eat its raw flesh. Maybe break off the horn, grind it up, snort it..." He pauses, grotesque imaginations probably filling his mind, none of which seem kind to the unicorn. "Okay, let's keep talking!"



     After what could safely be called a stressful day, it was Sanjay's idea that they grab dinner at The Good Plates. Beth could not have agreed faster — it would be a welcome respite from everything that was happening. The Bad Place demons are staying in the Good Place until a negotiation has been made, leaving the mood in a weird, tense limbo. All she knows is that Tahani is hosting them at her mansion, and that the Real Eleanor is having a tour of the neighbourhood with Chidi and Fake Eleanor.

At least Beth has a fraction less guilt, now that Sanjay knows about Fake Eleanor. The thought of keeping it from him would have been like torture.

Dinner is once again served to their tastes from when they were alive. For Beth, it is a plate of grilled salmon fillets, drizzled with lemon juice and a serving of fresh vegetables — plucked straight from the memory of a restaurant she loved on Earth. Sanjay has also opted for comfort, tucking into his mother's homemade chicken korma. It almost feels like a normal date. They talk about their interests, laugh at the same jokes and lose track of time. But inevitably, their peace cannot last forever...

Behind Sanjay's shoulder, Beth sees both Eleanors, Chidi and Trevor walk into the restaurant. "Oh no," she murmurs.

"What's wrong? Is it the food?" Sanjay asks.

"No, it's... don't look behind you, but—"

Instantaneously, Sanjay swivels in his chair and ogles very obviously at the group.

"Sanjay! What did I just say?"

"Sorry, couldn't help myself," Sanjay says bashfully. "But now I get why you looked so nauseous when you looked behind me."

Admittedly, the thought of staring at Trevor's face during the rest of their dinner puts Beth right off. It is like having a devil perched on Sanjay's shoulder.

"So, what do you think of this whole Real versus Fake Eleanor thing?" he asks, in a lower whisper this time.

Beth shakes her head, unwillingly hearing Trevor boast about how this food is going to make a "primo dump" later on. The misery on the blonde Eleanor's face only adds to her guilt. "Honestly? It's difficult to say," she admits. "I mean, sure, maybe the Eleanor we've known all along is not supposed to be here. But she has been getting better."

"I guess so..."

"And anyway, shouldn't there be a Medium Place of some kind? For people who were okay-ish, but not awful like... well, like Trevor."

Sanjay closes a hand around his drink and raises it to her. "Now that, I can drink to." They smile and clink their glasses together, taking a sip of the wine. In the gap of noise that follows, Beth finds herself eavesdropping as Trevor continues to chastise Fake Eleanor, comparing her to wet mulch among other things.

"Whatever, it's easy when you're just born perfect," she says defensively. "My parents were both dirtbags who split up when I was eight."

Beth perks up, tilting slightly to the side to get a better look at this Eleanor. She didn't know that. But for a brief moment, she thinks she understands a fragment of this woman — divorce really does fork you up, especially that young. Maybe it is something they have in common. Although, Beth's parents might not rank quite as highly on the dirtbag scale...

"I don't mean to eavesdrop, but did you say your parents got a divorce?" Real Eleanor suddenly asks, looking up from her soup.

"Yeah, and that kind of thing really changes a person. I mean, that... trauma. It can explain away a lot of behaviour."

"Oh, of course!"

"Your parents are still together, I guess?" Fake Eleanor asks, the bitter to her counterpart's sweet.

"Oh, actually, um... I– I'm not sure," Real Eleanor confesses. "I never met my birth parents. They put me in an empty fish tank and abandoned me at a train station in Bangladesh. Luckily, I was found and adopted by a very nice couple, the Shellstrops—"

"Thank God," Trevor mutters sarcastically.

"— But then they died when I was four. Bird flu."

"That's awful!" Chidi says, his voice thick with sympathy.

"Anyway, orphanage burned down, yadda yadda yadda... made my way to America, yadda yadda yadda... learned English from watching Seinfeld, put myself through law school, and here I am."

From the next table, Beth finds her jaw has dropped at the story. All of that suffering, and this Eleanor Shellstrop seems to be one of the chirpiest, grounded people she has met. The woman hardly seems fazed by anything — you wouldn't think she had been wrongfully tortured for weeks on top of all that.

"Huh..." Trevor turns to Fake Eleanor, and says, "I'm sorry, what is it you said happened to you? The same thing that happens to half of all kids in America?" He laughs as though she is pathetic in comparison.

It is directed at Eleanor, but for a moment, Beth feels like she is being laughed at. Hearing Real Eleanor's story made her feel pretty inadequate too. Was that selfish of her to think?

     She soon realises all of this is playing across her face, when she finds Sanjay studying her expression. Beth clears her throat. "Sorry, I think I got distracted there—"

     "Hey, don't worry, I was eavesdropping too," Sanjay chuckles. He must notice the lingering sadness on her face, because he sets down his cutlery decisively. "Why don't we get the bill in a minute? It's a beautiful night. We could take a walk by the water."

     It does sound like a pleasant alternative to staring at Trevor all night. Beth agrees, delighted at the distraction. Getting the bill turns out to be redundant since everything at The Good Plates is free. Sanjay offers his arm to her and they walk out into the night. Together they stroll and talk, eventually settling on a bench by a riverside. The moonlight is particularly bright this evening, stars twinkling brightly around it. She can't help but wonder if they are real — can you still see the stars when you're dead?

Beth would feel more insignificant thinking about this, but... Sanjay is holding her hand.

"It's been quite the crazy start to our time here, hasn't it?" he remarks.

She lets out a harsh laugh. "You can say that again. I had no idea the afterlife would be this... messy."

"Yeah, well, we're going to be here for a long time. Guess we'd better get used to it."

"Are you getting used to us?" Beth asks him, lifting her chin to look up into his eyes.

Sanjay smiles down at her softly. Suddenly, he gulps loudly, rolling his shoulders back nervously. "Yeah... I– I think I am. I've never met anyone like you, Beth."

She reaches down and interlaces their fingers. The warmth of a thousand suns radiates through his palms, spreading all throughout Beth's body. Cautiously, her feelings for him have been growing like flowers touched by spring. She wasn't sure she would feel like this again — it was a blessing to be given a soulmate like this, especially after her past attempt at romance... no, forget about him. Beth pushes the thoughts of her old flame to the back of her mind.

In this moment, she is with Sanjay, and feeling rather brave. He stares at her intently with her hands clasped in his. What would it be like to kiss him right now?

Oh, what the hell.

Her eyes flutter shut as she leans in, lips parting as she exhales a breath. Closer and closer... until she almost careens forward, her lips still finding empty space.

That's odd.

Beth opens her eyes. Sanjay's neck has protruded into his shirt like a turtle, practically leaning at a right angle away from her touch. His eyes stay wide open and infused with awkwardness.

"Uhhh..." he mumbles, his cheeks heating up.

Now mortified, Beth leans back. "Oh my God—"

"Beth, I, uh—"

"I read this wrong, didn't I? Fork! I'm such an idiot!"

"It's not that, I was just– surprised!"

She is stood up now, a bumbling mess. "I thought we were getting closer, you know... romantically."

"We are!" Sanjay exclaims, but not convincingly.

"That's not what your body language was saying," Beth retorts, "you were leaning away from me like I'd eaten five packs of cheese puffs!"

"Beth, I'm just not very good at this. I wish I could—"

But the rest of his words are drowned out, as Beth is sucked into her own tunnel vision of self-blame. "No, no, you know what? I– I think I'll just go home by myself. Or actually, you go home. I think I left my coat in the restaurant." Before Sanjay can protest it, Beth is already running in the opposite direction, cursing herself on the way back to the Good Plates. Now would be a perfect time for the sinkhole to open again and swallow her whole.

     Her mind is racing when she stumbles into the restaurant. Of course she didn't leave her coat here. She didn't even bring a coat. Instead, Beth finds herself stumbling to the bar. She isn't alone, either — Fake Eleanor slumps over the counter on a stool, sulking at an empty shot glass. It seems their double date dinner must be over. Trevor has just left the bar too, likely done torturing her for one evening.

"What did you have?" Beth asks Eleanor, nodding to her empty glass.

"Tequila, baby," she slurs slightly.

Hopping onto the stool, Beth tells the bartender, "I'll have the same, please."

As soon as the liquor sloshes into the shot glass, Beth knocks it back down her throat. There is a flash of regret as she does it — the burn makes her eyes water instantaneously... or are those that delayed tears of embarrassment? Who knows at this point? Before she can reach for another glass, Eleanor is grabbing her wrist.

"Whoa, okay man, hold on," she says, "what's the occasion? Your replacement arrive here, too?"

"I wish she would..." Beth grumbles. "I don't think Sanjay likes me."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Because every time we try and get closer, he backs away. I keep getting all these mixed signals from him. You know, tonight, I thought we were having this romantic dinner date. Then he chickened out when I tried to kiss him." Her head lands softly on the countertop, a soft whine escaping her. "I don't know, Eleanor... maybe there's something wrong with me."

"Well, you can't be worse than me," Eleanor points out teasingly.

Although Beth lets out a snort, she isn't entirely comforted. She downs another shot of tequila and catches her breath. "But I don't think I'm very good at relationships. I used to think I was. Before I died, I was with a man for five years."

"Five years? Wow, not bad."

"Yeah. Well. That was until..." Beth glances around, paranoid that Trevor could be lurking; she dreads what he would do if he overheard this information. No doubt he would regurgitate it and make her feel miserable. She leans forward, wobbling in her balance as she whispers the secret into Eleanor's ear.

When Eleanor pulls away, she gasps in indignation. "That motherforker!"

Beth just sniffs, picking up a lemon slice to go with her next shot. Eleanor asks the bartender to fill another glass for her and swivels to face her.

"Let's drink... to feeling second best," Eleanor proposes.

A warm buzz of energy settling into her bloodstream, Beth raises her glass with a lopsided smile. "To feeling second best," she toasts. She would be bitter, if it weren't for the tequila smoothing out her doubts for one, blissfully ignorant evening...



Beth has not been this hungover in years.

     ... Scratch that, she has never been this hungover.

She woke up with a head full of searing thunderclaps. Sprawled on the couch in her tiny house, her neck and limbs were aching with cramp after lying in awkward positions. Then there was the sea of nausea that pummelled her with every small motion. Outside, the sky is still dark, but starting to turn a light powdery blue as dawn breaks.

     Beth feebly lifts one point of her body at a time, squinting even though the room is still dimly lit. Once on her feet, still swaying, she shuffles with great effort towards the light switch. Her hand fumbles and hits the button.

     "Never gonna give you up,
Never gonna let you—"

"AARGH!" Beth shrieks, practically punching the lights out again. That switch is driving her insane — just as she starts to forget about it, she is rick-rolled again with no mercy.

Her contempt for it endures as she pukes into the kitchen sink.

As her trembling arms cling to the counter, Beth hears the ladder creaking as a familiar figure climbs down it. He regards her state, unimpressed.

"Oh, good, you're awake," Sanjay deadpans. "Thanks for the alarm by the way."

"I hate that stupid switch so much—"

"Not the switch. I meant your grand entrance home last night."

Last night? Oh, no... Beth realises that she can hardly remember what happened. The last clear memory she has is having tequila shots with Eleanor. Who knows how long that went on for. Now she thinks about it, she has no clue how she ended up back at the house. The thought of the tequila hits her, along with more nausea that makes her gag on the air.

"I didn't think you could get hangovers in the Good Place."

Sanjay shakes his head. "You can't. Trevor and his Bad Place goons thought it would be funny to turn off the hangover filter."

"Ugh... just don't let them near the asthma filter," Beth grimaces.

Fortunately, he seems to soften after this. Sanjay gets to work making her a hangover cure for breakfast — smoked salmon, scrambled eggs and asparagus. Admittedly, Beth craves nothing more than a Full English right now, but doesn't think she is in any position to question his nutritional expertise. He dutifully reminds her that she also had a glass and a half of red wine on their date before doing shots, which only mortifies her further.

As she tries to keep down her healthy breakfast, Sanjay recounts the tale of how she came home last night. He had been asleep when he heard knocking on the window. Eleanor was hollering at the top of her voice, while Beth was inexplicably singing the Steps version of 'Tragedy' ("remarkably in-tune," Sanjay adds, "for someone who was piss-drunk"). He could have sworn she was also attempting the dance moves from the music video. Beth had then crawled through the window and knocked over the lamp before falling asleep on the couch for the night.

"Oh, God... Sanjay, I am so sorry," Beth's face falls into her hands.

"That's okay, I—"

"Not just about me stumbling here. You know..."

The almost-kiss. This registers on Sanjay's face. He gulps hard, suddenly nervous. It seems whenever they venture near anything romantic, he flees the situation. Maybe he's been unlucky in love too. Or inexperienced. Beth supposes she couldn't blame him for either of those things. She just wishes they could talk about it, instead of having all these mixed signals.

     Once again, Sanjay finds a good segue out of this conversation. "Ah, look at the time! We need to head off to the negotiations. You feeling better now?"

     "I think so," Beth smiles weakly, although her stomach still feels unsettled.

     Fortunately for her, the Bad Place demons must have switched on the filter again, because her symptoms mysteriously vanish on her way there. It still does nothing to dispel the incredibly awkward energy between Beth and Sanjay as they walk there. The negotiations are the one thing distracting them right now — they are taking place in Tahani's mansion, a long table set up in one of her many gilded rooms. It feels like a summit of world powers when they walk in.

Beth notices the Eleanor she drank with yesterday is looking nervous, but considerably less hungover now the filter is back on. They exchange a bemused look — half-memories from the wild night before float in their heads — before smirking at one another. Beth takes a seat next to Chidi, turning her attention to Trevor and Michael.

Michael kicks things off. "Now, we would like to discuss various trades that we could—"

"Oh, yeah, we're not negotiating," Trevor cuts him off. "See, Fake Eleanor and I, we bro-ed down pretty hard last night. We hooked up."

     "No, we didn't," Eleanor rebukes.

     Beth raises her hand and adds, "Yeah, and I can back her up. Because I was with her... honestly, I can't remember much of it, but I was there."

     Trevor just snorts at them. "But who are they gonna believe? Me, or two women?"

     He throws his head back with a laugh, while Beth and Eleanor glare daggers at him.

     "Point is, she knows that she doesn't belong here, and she's giving up."

     "Is this true?" Michael asks, turning to her sadly. "Fake Eleanor, are you giving up?"

"Yeah, of course she is. She knows this place isn't for her." Trevor rises from his chair smugly, snapping his fingers at her. "Let's go, dingdong. Come on."

But Eleanor stays right in her seat. "No, I'm not leaving."

"Oh, come on, sweetheart, we've been through this. You know you don't belong here."

"You're right. I don't... but I want to. I used to never want to be a part of any group, but I'm a different person now because of the person who helped me —" Eleanor shoots a glance at Chidi, who glows with pride at her words, "— and I want to be like him. I want to be like all the people who are here." She looks around at her other peers, including Beth as they share a friendly smile.

"You can, Eleanor!" the other Eleanor pipes up from the back.

"Thanks, Real Eleanor!"

"Hey, if you two aren't gonna make out, just shut up," Trevor gags and rolls his eyes. "Look, if you don't come with us, we're gonna have to turn this matter over to Shawn."

Shawn sounds like a rather inconsequential figure, but the name practically makes Michael jump out of his chair. "Oh! Oh, no– um– Shawn? Really?" he asks, pleadingly.

"Who's Shawn?" Chidi asks the question on every human's lips.

"He's the wise, eternal Judge who sits on high, has the final say on all disputes between our two realms."

"And his name is... Shawn?" Tahani hums.

"Is it short for anything?" Sanjay suggests, somewhat sheepishly, but gets no answer.

This place just keeps surprising me, thinks Beth with a shake of her head.

"Okay, look, I don't want Shawn involved either, so how about you blow us away with an offer so we can end this," Trevor says.

Michael ponders this for a moment, drumming his fingertips on the polished tabletop. "Okay, here's my offer," he finally announces, rising to his feet and locking eyes with Trevor. "You get... nothing! We're not letting Fake Eleanor go, and we're not giving you anything."

"Get him, Michael!" Tahani cheers.

"You can summon every evil creature you have, every weapon in your arsenal, every four-headed flying bear — they have them down there — but we are not giving up. I believe that Eleanor belongs in the Good Place. If I'm wrong, you can take her to the Bad Place and punish her all you want, just really go to town on her—"

"Easy, buddy," Eleanor chuckles uncomfortably, placing a hand on Michael's arm.

"But she's staying here." Michael turns to the other Bad Place demons, grit filling his voice. "Now, all of you... get the fork out of my neighborhood."

Beth would be inclined to stand and applaud him, but she's too tense waiting to see what the demons do. To her relief, they concede to Michael's terms, but not without any mockery towards the goodies in the room. Bringing their Hawaiian pizzas and slogan t-shirts with them, it seems the two Eleanors are safe for the time being.

     It is Sanjay who proposes they all celebrate by grabbing some frozen yoghurt downtown. As everyone follows his lead, Beth feels like she is treading an old memory. As soon as they reach the froyo shop, with a picnic table and parasol outside, it hits her.

     "Eleanor," she asks, "did I stand on that table last night?"

     For a second, Eleanor has to search her own memory, before her eyes light up in recognition. "Oh, yeah! You said you were trying to stargaze and you could see the sky better this way... then you dropped your frozen yoghurt and started crying. And– ooh, here's the funniest part—"

     "I think I get the idea, thanks," Beth mutters.







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A/N:

didn't realise it was february when i last updated this fic?? i thought it was more recent than that, oops. but poor beth... that almost-kiss did NOT go well. sanjay is awkward in romance and it ruined the moment a fair bit. as for beth, she has her own insecurities about relationships that are becoming more apparent; i know it didn't really get resolved this chapter, but it will continue into the next one. also more about beth's ex will follow... (there was going to be a flashback with her ex this chapter, but it didn't fit here, so it got shafted to the next chapter instead)

also writing "fake eleanor" & "real eleanor" drove me INSANE this chapter. i hadn't considered i would need to make that distinction until i started writing.

thank you so much for 6K reads!! we only have 3 chapters left of act one, so i hope you guys are ready for what's in store.

( PUBLISHED: 1st June, 2025 )

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