The Lunar Queen [ON HOLD]

Love

Cinder POV

"This whole Queen thing is exhausting!" I complain. The crew and myself are sitting in the lounge watching the net. This past week, I've decided I'm going to do whatever I feel like doing. Stars, I walked into a meeting, yesterday, in jeans and a t-shirt. They have all learned to not mess with me.

That explains why I'm lounging in my pajamas. Sure, they're fancy silk pajamas, but oh well. Good enough.

I pull my hair up in a sloppy bun and make my way over to the mini fridge.

"Hey Princess," Thorne calls, "Bring me a Coke?"

He's taken to calling me Princess when he wants something.

I reach for a cold, red can in the back and a brown bottle for myself. I'd been drinking a lot of these, lately.

I passed Thorne his soda and easily popped open the bottle with my unnaturally tough hand. I curled up in an overstuffed armchair with a fuzzy blanket and sipped the caramel-ey drink.

"Cinder, you really should stop drinking those cream sodas. People will probably see it and think it's alcohol!" Scarlet scolded.

"It's also extremely bad for your health," Dr. Erland chimed in. Once a doctor, always a doctor.

"Don't worry. This is my first today. I'm trying to taper off." I sat the drink on the coaster and stuck my hand in Thorne's bowl of popcorn. He didn't object. I suppose he was tired of arguing with me over food. I was eating a lot lately. I blamed it on stress.

A cute black and white TV show about a man and a talking horse was playing. I believe it was popular in the late 1900's. This channel was dedicated to those type of programs. Yesterday we saw one about a witch who married a regular mortal man. How absurd!

I dozed off into the first sleep I'd had for a few days. All too soon, I was being shaken awake.

"Hey Cinder, you're on the net. Haha!" Thorne snickered.

I looked up and saw a short clip of fifteen year old Cinder under a hover, shirt stained and dirty, hair splayed about her face, pulling the engine out the bottom. How did they get a video of me, and why?

"It appears they did a documentary on you." Wolf grunted.

"Volume up," I commanded the screen.

"And here we see exclusive photos-" the narrator droned, "in a club about two miles from her former home."

I saw a fuzzy picture of me drinking a bright red liquid and talking to a tall kid seated beside me at the bar. His right wrist was encased in metal with a portscreen imbedded into it.

"I remember him! He was in an accident involving some kind of chemicals and was burned badly." I say with my mouth half full. "He was jealous of my built in port."

"And here is Miss Linh accepting a dance with the same gentleman."

The kid was holding out his hand to me, and the next picture showed me being pulled into the crowd.

"I thought you couldn't dance?" Cress said.

"You don't slow dance in a club, Cress. You just.. I don't know how to explain it. Thorne and I will just have to show you sometime," I winked at Thorne. "I'm sure you've been to a club or two."

Cress looked up at him.

"Actually, I'm more of a Casino man. Dancing isn't one of my strong points." Thorne explained.

"Yeah, I can see that."

I loved all of this. We were just talking, acting like normal young adults, except there was something off. Everyone here had a date. Thorne and Cress were together, Scarlet and Wolf, and here I was, alone. Dr. Erland doesn't exactly count. Plus, there was always that knowledge that I was a Queen, and I was to be respected or feared. I hated that part. Everyone kept a certain distance and were cautious with their words. It left me feeling isolated.