The Next Cinderella

Chapter 37: May I Have This Dance?

On Gianni's signal a curtain rose and the final three contestants emerged. They came out in order of Josselyn, Bella and Myrielle, a strategic sequence determined by Gianni's show-producing expertise.

Josselyn wore a billowy sea-foam gown, while Bella's small waist had been squeezed into a tangerine number. It was clear that Rose had rigged the game, employing the 'ugly bridesmaids dresses' comparative standard of beauty. Her nepotism seemed to have worked like a charm, as the audience applauded gently for Josselyn and Bella, but gasped and cheered for Myrielle.

As the applause rained down on Myrielle, Bella suddenly seemed less certain in what she'd considered an inevitable win. Not wanting to leave anything to chance, she discreetly pulled her armpit flab into her cleavage.

Before hitting the stage the contestants made their way across the checkered marble dance floor, waving to their supposedly adoring fans.

Josselyn led the way to the red-carpeted staircase but Gianni blocked her path. Instead he turned the crowd's attention to a curtain that concealed something at the back of the ballroom. "As you know these princesses-in-training have been toiling away for weeks." He turned to Josselyn sympathetically. "And I imagine that at times it's been an isolating experience."

Josselyn nodded sadly. "Sometimes I talk to a wall."

A nearby table of bourgeois snobs started snickering, but Gianni silenced them with a stern look. "On this crucial night," he went on, "surely it would help to feel some genuine support; so what do you think, everyone?"

The audience cheered as Myrielle felt the inklings of a terrible gut feeling. The boisterous applause was everything Gianni had been hoping for. "The crowd has spoken, so let's find out what's waiting behind the curtain!"

A servant pulled back the curtain to reveal a cordoned off area that read "STANDING ROOM ONLY." Behind the fenced-in area stood the families of the final three contestants. The tall ones waving happily clearly belonged to Josselyn, the stern man and two ruffian twin brothers belonged to Bella, and Thomas, Rose, Emilia and Peter were there for Myrielle. Peter waved excitedly while leaning against the barrier for support, while Rose sent as many 'air kisses' as her hands would allow.

"Win it for us, sister!" shouted Emilia.

The amplifying boost they offered Myrielle was immediately absorbed as a helpless pit of misery. There was something so official about seeing her family cheering at the finish line; their expectations for her success...the disturbing feeling of what success would truly mean if she married the prince...

She inadvertently burped and covered her mouth, a nostalgic burp of therapeutic wine that she wished she could have more of immediately.

As Myrielle stood on the edge of alcoholism, the audience absorbed the twist of the family reveal. "Everything you've worked for comes down to these people standing in the corner; no pressure though!" Gianni wiped imaginary sweat off his forehead as the audience laughed. "I hope you enjoy your time here, families, as two thirds of you will never be invited here again!"

As the families began to size each other up, Gianni led the girls to the stage.

Myrielle found a spot close to Cinderella's throne, and it was only a matter of seconds before she felt a sharp tug on her ball gown.

"Psst!" Cinderella whispered.

"What?" She whispered back.

"Why didn't you use 'Cinderella's Finest' pig-fat lip injection?"

Myrielle shrugged. "Because it's heinous?"

Cinderella was momentarily frozen, having never been spoken to like that since becoming a princess. She reached over and pinched the back of Myrielle's arm.