The Elite ✓

seven | everything we are

This chapter is one I'll never forget. I published it the exact day my friend passed and rewriting this has been the most heartbreaking thing I've ever had to do. I remember being well-deep in tears just typing the first word to book two chapter seven and well, reading the author's note I wrote that day, I'm speechless. 

Also, it's downright painful to erase the words I've written and rewrite them without crying, so as you may have noticed, this took quite a while. It's been three years, now, and I miss her so much. I wish she'd come back, and say that this was all just a dream. I don't quite believe it myself. I guess she was the first person who believed in me, as I was hers. And it sucks quite a lot.

The last day I saw her was before our summer break. We'd made plans to meet up over the holidays, so I left without saying goodbye. It's still my biggest regret. 

Sorry for all that emotional stuff, I just felt like three years ago I wouldn't speak a word, and now that I can, I will. Anyway, enjoy chapter seven.

S

*

"It is true that society demands this same unselfishness and courtesy, but when there is no heart in the work, the time is frittered away on the mere ceremonies, forms of etiquette, and customs of society, and this politeness seeks only its own ends; to be known as courteous, spoken of as lady-like, and not beloved as unselfish and womanly."

illéan royal etiquette booklet

*

Everything we are. It collides together at the final moment we breathe. They are the tiny Lego blocks that are nothing alone, but something magical when put together. Everything we are comes together at one final point in our lives when we're six feet underground and we see what we are really made of.

I did a count. The rebel attack had scared me out of my mind, the traces of blood, gunshots, mangled flesh. It all came down to survival. Five times, my life flashed before my eyes. Five times.

And at the last possible second, when I felt as if fainting was in order, the metal doors opened and in walked two guards, and when I saw the familiar head of perfectly gelled brown hair, I knew that Will had survived.

I should have been suspicious at the fact that we had been released so early on- within half an hour of the attack, but as a member of the paranoid selected, I had let the world fade behind me, tapping Will on the shoulder. 

He spins around. "What the hell were you thinking." I practically yell.

"I wasn't thinking." He says lamely, but this time, he can't even look me in the eye. "Can I help you, Holly?"

"You scared your mother half to death. Your brother. Me." I shut my eyes, "Everyone was terrified. If they had gotten their hands on-"

"Well," he snapped in my direction, "They didn't, did they?"

Once again, I recoil backwards, unsure of how to help. A lady would know how to compose herself. But not me.

Not me.

"Okay. You win, alright." I undo the straps of my heels and run straight into my room, crumbling onto the ground as soon as the eyes of society were out of reach.  But when I let my gaze readjust, the non-existent sobs being shed like skin, I find that I'm not alone.

A rebel stands in front of me, and although my gaze is blurry as is my mind, dizzy, I can still see a gun very clearly. I back away until I slam into the wall behind me. My hands search for a doorknob, which I latch my hands onto. All I need is a distraction.

"W-who-" I stutter. "W-what."

I see that the rebel isn't much older than me. It's a boy with tainted skin, and hair that doesn't match his physique. He slings his gun over his back and raises his hands in surrender, and although this is my chance to escape. I don't.

"I have a proposal."

I stay silent.

"Visit my village," He says slowly as if he was unsure, "I'm not here to fight you. I'm here to let you understand why there is a resistance."

"By harassing me?" I ask incredulously, my temperature rising slowly. "You think I'm not aware of the problems, I'm a five myself. It's not I grew up in the riches."

"A five is tough-luck. Imagine a Seven, Eight. We shouldn't be hidden through shame. We want a leader who won't ignore the dark spots in their reign."

I shake my head, refusing to reply. This idea itself was ludicrous.

"It's your choice. I'm not here to force you." He says, "But if you ever feel like it, I'm Esteban. Finding me is easy, just ask around." Satisfied, he fits his mask back on his face and prepares to leave from the balcony.

"And just so you know, I didn't hurt a single soul."

I move away from the door, in an attempt to relax, but the guards break the lock before neither Esteban nor I have time to react.  They charge towards him, but I block them, "Stop." I yell.

"It's a rebel? You can't let him go."

"Leave," I say to the guards, but by the time they, or I look back, Esteban is long gone. 

*

I wake up the next day to the smell of vanilla.

My maids are all rushing in different directions, one finishing the final touches to a dress I didn't know I was supposed to wear, while the other pushes me into the bathtub, for the fastest bath I will ever have. 

I look up to them in confusion, but their facial expressions remain stoic, and no matter what I say, they don't speak. At first, I'm convinced that my 'stunt' yesterday was the sole cause of this form of isolation, but when I come across four other confused girls, Denise not one of them, I realize that the feeling is platonic.

The Report pops up as a surprise to us all, including Gavril, who for the first time rushes in. Sylvia scans us all from head to toe before announcing our entrance through an intentional single-file queue.

Will avoids my glance, and I no longer fight it.

"Welcome, Illea!" Gavril smiles, "This is the first week in Illean history where to Reports are to be released within the same week. So sit back, folks. It's the insider on the Selection." 

King Maxon stands, followed by Queen America as they make their way to the front. "As many of you all are aware, only six girls remain from the seven brought into the Elite. Before you, today, are five wonderful ladies, as we would like to present Lady Denise, who has prepared a speech for all of you today."

"Let's bring her up now," Queen America is a natural at speaking, and Denise is unable to steal the show in her extravagant black floor-length gown, though she's my best friend, I still admit so.

I applaud for her despite my confusion in her intentions.

"Good morning, Illea." She smiles daintily, "Today, I have come before you all to formally submit my withdrawal from Prince Lucas' Selection." I gasp soundly, what. "No event, in particular, has influenced this decision, but rather the longing to commit to change within the communities among us. Lady Holly, for example, has inspired me to continue to do what I love despite the struggles of today, and for that I thank her."

I smile through my tears.

"As I embark on a path of widening the available healthcare throughout Illea, a tribute to the late Queen Amberly, I wish Prince Lucas all the luck in finding his future wife amongst these five amazing women behind me, and I hope they do Illea proud. Thank you."

I'm unsure if I've really inspired her to this extent, but what I do know is that she's included my name in the hope that I would gain more supporters in the public, as her last favor to me, I couldn't be more thankful. Adding my name was her way of saying, goodbye, good luck, and you'll do amazing, even if it is I can't be there to see it.

Denise leaves, and though I see every part of her yearning to run and hug us all, she follows through. And when the palace gates are locked behind her, I know that she's gone.