James Weir recaps The Bachelor 2018 episode 4

THE Bachelor’s so-called “stalker” has been viciously duped — and it has resulted in gut-wrenching scenes that will destroy you.

AS AUSTRALIA’s leadership hangs in the balance on Thursday night, so does a frail girl’s heart on The Bachelor — but her outcome could be far worse than ours.

There’s a possibility a fabulous lady with a terrific brooch collection could become our prime minister. Not only does Julie Bishop look great in running tights, she also apparently brings an assistant with her on her morning jogs whose sole job it is to take Instagram photos of her. Clearly she’s the prime minister we deserve.

But Cass is not this lucky. This girl — who is in love with Nick after stalking him for months and is now being duped by producers and mean girls — is slowly having her heart torn. That’s the worst kind of heartbreak.

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She’s just a small town girl, livin’ in a lonely world, as Glee’s Lea Michele once said.

Producers are just intentionally trolling Cass now, playing on her obsession with Nick and setting her up for devastating defeat. It has been happening since last week’s premiere and, on Thursday night, it plummeted to new depths.

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All Cass wants is to be chosen by Nick for a single date. She doesn’t care if it’s just one of those crappy boat dates on an overcast day. If it means there will be a small, precious moment where she’s the focus of Nick’s attention, she’ll snatch it and hold it tight.

But she doesn’t get it. After a cruel clue on the first date card hints that Cass is about to have her wish granted, things take a turn and it goes to that Russian chick Dasha.

Making things worse, Dasha makes a confession.

“I don’t even know who he is to be honest,” she shrugs.

’I don’t know her.’

This makes for a very short date and all of a sudden we find ourselves in the middle of a stadium, ready to undertake the group date. It’s another one of Osher’s weird made-up games where all the girls are given bow and arrows and told to attack each other.

“In this sort of game … you’re never really safe and … people can just shoot you from wherever,” Cass says, maybe talking about this made-up game but also probably talking about the game of love.

And with that, she is pelted in the head with an arrow while stalking Nick from behind an inflatable cube.

‘Ah my binoculars!’

Everyone’s really into this game because, at the end, the best and fairest player gets some private time with Nick. As she ices the welt left on her face by the foam arrow, Cass dreams of winning this one-on-one date.

“I think I played pretty well and fair today … sooo … It could be me! Definitely hoping it could be me,” Cass beams, her ponytail swinging with excitement.

Innocent, pure hope.

Once again, the clue Nick reads out taunts Cass. She truly thinks it is describing her. But it’s not. The date goes to Cat — and Cass’s heart crumbles.

An exact screenshot of the moment her heart sank.

Cass is devastated. She copped a foam arrow to the face and was left with nothing. What more can she do? Every day, she’s overlooked for dates and teased by clues only to miss out. She’s shattered.

“I thought he might … pick me,” she whispers, standing alone on the field inside this big, empty stadium.

Someone who’s not shattered is Cat. She’s as cocky as ever, whipping out snarky comments and throwing around side-eye wherever she goes. But it’s this cockiness that has blinded her.

“Coming up to this one-on-one time … him and I … our main thing was our sexual chemistry,” she confidently explains to us.

She’s convinced she’s going to get a kiss, but Nick has done literally nothing to support her prediction.

“You’re a thinker not a stinker,” is all he says to her on this date. But that’s good enough for Cat.

“I feel like Nick was giving me every indication he wanted to make out with me, there was that sexual chemistry,” she tells us again.

But the sexual chemistry is all in her head. Cat tries to lean in. She brings up the topic of kissing. Nick knows what she’s after, and he doesn’t want to give it.

“I think if it’s rushed it can take the longevity out of it,” he tells her, hoping the hint is received.

But his reluctance only makes her want it more. She persists and leans in harder. Nick’s muscles convulse out of terror, causing him to involuntarily make this disgusted face.

‘Ew girls.’

The grossed-out face is the final straw. Cass wants to brag about a kiss and she’s going to get it. Like her best friend Romy did last week, Cat latches onto Nick’s neck. Her hands wrap around him and he can’t get away. She now has him in a chokehold.

Don’t do this on first dates with people you don’t really know.

“Am I gonna tempt you?” Cat asks, almost menacingly.

“Hmmm,” Nick gargles back, gasping for air while looking around for some kind of defence weapon.

In an attempt to fend Cat off, Nick quickly pecks her on the cheek and hopes she’s satisfied enough that she’ll relinquish him.

She loosens her grip. Nick falls to his knees, rubbing his neck. The cold night air stings the back of his throat as he gasps. He looks up to the black sky and thanks whatever it is that saved him.

For a split second, Cat looks into the camera before staring down at the ground. She wonders if we all just saw Nick reject her. We did.

She capes her leather motorcycle jacket over her shoulders and struts off the field with a smirk, trying to hide the humiliation she just publicly endured.

By the time she waltzes back into the mansion, it’s time for the cocktail party. And even though we know her date with Nick was a disaster, the other girls don’t know that.

Cass has been spiralling all afternoon and she’s hatched a plan. But not a very good plan. The plan is basically just: talk to Nick. It’s the simplest plan of all but for some reason she can’t accomplish it.

As the other girls pounce on Nick and drag him away to flirt and giggle, Cass watches on from afar — in the shadows, where she’s most comfortable.

We find her lurking in a nearby garden.

We can see you, Cassandra.

One by one, every girl in the mansion talks to Nick. Time is ticking down. With only moments to go until the rose ceremony, Shannon decides she’s going to take him away next. The thought of losing out on this final chance punches Cass in the gut and she lurches forward, but Shannon insists on making the move. Cass opens her mouth but nothing comes out. She looks down at her warm chardonnay. She’s in love with Nick, but she’s also meek and terrified of conflict.

“Yeah … yeah, you go,” she whispers.

In another garden, she comes to terms with the loss.

“The cocktail party has almost come to an end. I didn’t get the chance to talk to Nick. Which sucks but …” she says, welling up.

She keeps looking over at Shannon, who’s flirting with Nick nearby. The man she loves has his arms around a woman who’s not her — a woman she just let walk into his embrace. Her heart breaks.

This is actually devastating to watch.

Romy calls Cass “embarrassing” and “desperate” but Romy got rejected mid-kiss last week so that’s just the pot calling the kettle peroxide.

Cass is feeling raw and weak. Still, she persists. She stands on the podium at the rose ceremony and waits patiently for Nick to choose her. Every name he calls out that isn’t hers is like a lashing to her heart.

With one rose left, she looks down at the floor and braces herself for a hurt she hoped wouldn’t come. At least not tonight.

“Cass,” Nick smiles.

The relief is sweet but you never forget the feeling of nearly losing everything you love. Cass vows to be stronger. She won’t let this happen again.

We’ll probably be watching this same situation next Wednesday.

Two random chicks are shuffled out the door. One scurries off graciously. But the other has something to say.

“I can’t believe that I shaved my legs for this,” she snips to Nick before storming out.

You’ve got to seize your opportunities when they present themselves, and this is hers. She thinks this bold act will capture headlines around the world and be whispered about in the halls of Bachelor mansions throughout future seasons of the show for years to come. Maybe her sassy catchphrase will even be printed on novelty T-shirts.

Indeed, it was a fun way to go. But we still have no idea what her name is. She could’ve just shown up today. Who can be sure.

We’ll just call her Brené.

For more observations on Glee’s Lea Michele and being both embarrassing and desperate, follow me on Twitter and Facebook: @hellojamesweir

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Bye Brené.