A Rising Star

Opening Night

By the time I arrive in the Opening Night chambers, the room is full. It looks like I am the final one there and most of the mirrors have been taken by women who are doing last minute fixes to their make-up. I pull out my tablet and even though it is too early for the scoring to begin, I pull out some pre-Elections coverage. It turns out they were filming us last night. I don't know why that surprised me . . . Maybe because it was after-hours and the live-stream is supposed to be off at that time.

Even so, I am glad that I look so in awe. I hadn't planned on the cameras watching me, but it will be good for ratings. Now it was like every Viewer is with me in the District of Canals. "Okay ladies look alive. It's almost show time!" The Producer who walks into our dressing room is female, her hair is pulled back into a tight bun and she has an ear piece. "Bitter, I'm glad you could make it."

A stream of giggles fill the room. "Beauty takes time."

"Maybe for you." That was Candid but I don't even turn to scowl. We are ushered into a large round room. We are on stage and surrounding us from above is a small audience. It has been a long time since I performed for an audience of actual Viewers.

There are twenty of us total. Ten men who will be running for President and ten female counterparts for First Lady. Trying to ignore the men as long as possible, for fear of who I will find, I look over the women. Most of them don't  stand out to me, but I do recognize a few ...

Catty, who despite her name, is actually quite a pushover. However, she has superior dancing skills and she has played as a winning teen bachelorette at least twice, although in the end, she's always decided to "kindly" break the guys' hearts who have chosen her.

Giggles is there as well; who unfortunately does giggle far too often. We were in a singing competition together once. Her fame mostly stems from her complete air-headedness. She is also one of the best runway models in the nation. I don't worry too much about her, though. She is from one of the southern states, which has never had any success with the Elections.

"Welcome to this year's Elections!" a voice cries, light and airy. I turn in shock, walking to the stage beside Winner is a tall blonde woman whose face I recognize all too well. The woman co-hosting the Elections is Kindness, the woman who took my mother's place as First Lady with Winner.

The Producers really have it in for me this year.

"This year we have many promising young candidates who are geared up to compete for the chance to lead this country into the greatest parties any person can ask for. But before we introduce you to these young and nubile contestants, let's meet the current President and First Lady, Brawns and Captivating."

Kindness welcomes them out before running her eyes across the candidates. She stops on me and smiles slowly before grabbing Winner's arm and clapping the current President and First Lady off the stage. I try to ignore the sudden feel of uneasiness by continuing to size up my competition. The only woman who seems like she'd even be trouble for me is Candid.

I'm surprised some of the women even made it in, such as the dark-haired one who is actually wearing pants to the official introductions. Or the girl who is even shorter than me, despite her platform heels. She is shaking so bad, I half expected her to wobble off the stage, tripping over her five-inch heels as she did.

And then it is finally time for us to speak. The woman in pants is called Hunter and apparently comes from a long line of Survivor winners, which explains why I have never ran into her again. And the tiny girl is Bubbles—I don't think I need to say much more about her; her name is Bubbles, after all.

Yes, she definitely wouldn't last too long before popping.

It isn't very difficult for me to conjure up tears when it is my turn to speak. "I am just so honored to be here with all of you today," I begin. I hear Candid snort beside me, but I continue with the speech that I have carefully crafted. "As you all know, my mother was elected as First Lady on this stage almost seventeen years ago. But because of me, she was not able to carry out her term."

I refuse to look at either Winner or Kindness. The man who more than likely betrayed my mother for the chance to be President and the woman who served alongside him. Instead, I let myself cry.

After a few seconds, I wipe my eyes carefully, taking a moment to pretend to catch my breath before continuing. "But all of this will change now. I was never the best singer or prettiest woman. I try my best at everything I do, but I am most honored as being a favorite among all of my viewers. It is because of all of my grateful Viewers that I am able to stand here today, competing for First Lady, and I hope that you will vote for me this election year. Thank you."

It takes Winner a good five minutes to quiet the audience down ... not that he tries that hard to do so. And by the time Candid gives her introduction, the audience isn't nearly as inspired. But I suppose that is what happens when you're stuck competing with the audience favorite.

The speeches continue and when I can't hold if off any longer, my eyes center towards the prospective presidents. They are nameless, faceless, meaningless. Except one.

Tenacious Ten Million.

A name that I have come to love, then despise. He catches me staring and winks. I want to stick out my tongue, but it seems immature: I'm a Baby. A middle finger: My name is Bitter. So I just casually slide my eyes away, but not before seeing him tilt the obnoxious cowboy hat on his head.

The speeches are over and Kindness gives the rules of the competition. We will compete in three challenges, which will culminate in the nationwide elections that will take place on November 11. During the competitions, Viewers are able to up or down vote contestants. Half of us will be knocked out after the first round, and by the third round, only the top three men and women will compete for the chance to live in the White House.

I begin to filter out Kindness's voice as I will my eyes not to look over at the presidential contenders again. I don't know if Ten is actually looking at me or if I'm just imagining the burning at the side of my temple. This will be easy, I try to convince myself. Still, my teeth clamp down on my lower lip, I almost draw blood.

Shadow is going to kill me for ruining my plum-painted lips.

I know I just need to keep my eyes on the prize: The White House. It will just be a few weeks here and then the cushiest job in the world. I have almost convinced myself of the truth in those words when Kindness's voice rings clearly in the air.

"And what kind of opening night would that be if we didn't have an opening night party? We look forward to seeing all of you, all night long, as we dance until dawn at the Presidential Party." I can't help myself. My eyes slide over to the men's side of the room. The smile on Tenacious' face is slow and promising.

I think I'm going to be sick.