Something Else - a Selection Fanfiction

four

THE PLANE RIDE ISN'T AS SCARY as I thought it'd be. I divide my time between staring out the window and chatting with Valerie. I learn she's a Three and is training to become a doctor. She and her family moved to France for her father's research - he's a scientist - and only came back a year ago. When we're not chatting, Valerie talks to the girl from Kent. I learn that her name is Faye and that she's a Four. Her mother is an insurance broker and her father died when she was little, just like mine. For someone who was talking to Drew, she doesn't seem that bad. 

Speaking of Drew, she spends almost all of the flight ignoring us. She has weird little shapes attached to a small box by a cord in her ears, and she seems to be humming. Valerie, who saw the same contraptions in France, tells us that they play music that only the wearer can hear. I can't even begin to fathom how that works, but if anyone had access to them, it'd be Drew, a natural Two. 

When the plane lands, we all file out into the airport, where more crowds wait to greet us. Faye immediately starts to sign pictures, and soon the other girls go off to do the same. I hesitantly follow suit, searching for my name.  

It isn't there. 

I check, then double check, but no matter how many times I look, the words Anna Grace are non-existent in the sea of signs and well-wishers. I feel my eyes start to prick with tears and hurriedly rush to the limo waiting to pick us up. It's hard to remind myself why I'm doing this when I've been erased from existence. 

I count to ten and pull myself together. I must appear strong, especially when all the other girls come back, undoubtedly having noticed my lack of support. Ten minutes go by, then twenty. I check my reflection in the rearview mirror. My eyes are clear, dry, and not swollen or red. My cheeks don't look shiny from tears - I fixed that with a little bit of tissue I had in my pocket - and my smile seems real. 

There's a knock on the car door. I open it and scoot over to make room for Valerie, who smiles at me and squeezes my hand. Faye comes in next, then Drew. The latter throws a smug look at me before turning to the former. 

"I can't believe how many people came to see me off! My fan base is so dedicated," she gushes loudly. "I'm sure I had the most signs out of any girl in the competition." 

Faye ignores her, instead opting to look out the window. Drew lowers her voice for dramatic effect and continues, "I mean, I feel bad for some people because they didn't get any signs. But what can I say? Not all of us are meant to be queen. I hope Prince Carson takes the public's opinion into account because they've definitely decided who should be the first to go home." 

Valerie curses in French under her breath, and I crack a smile. It's nice to know that at least someone has my back. 

&

When we arrive at the palace, we're gently shoved out of the car and towards the giant front doors, where we're greeted by some very harassed looking maids. They usher us through the plush, winding hallways - I wonder how anyone can navigate at all within this labyrinth of stairs and opulent sitting rooms - and into what they say is the Women's Room. There, an equally harassed looking middle-aged woman named Amber tells me to go to station nine. 

"What's this for?" I ask. She's already moved on to the next group. 

She's already moved on to the next group, but she looks back at me with a patient (if somewhat pained) smile. "We're doing a special edition on the Selected's makeovers. Premiering Tuesday at nine in the evening." She purses her painted lips. "Station nine, dear." 

&

An hour later, I find myself trying not to faint as I answer questions for the special edition. Knowing that all of Illea will be seeing one's answers is enough to make anyone nervous, and I'm no exception. I try to keep the answers short and sweet. 

"What changes did they make, Lady Anna?" the woman off camera asks. 

Lady Anna. I'll have to get used to that. "Well, they painted my nails." 

"What color?"

"A very light pink. I wanted it to be subtle." 

"Anything else?" 

"They evened out my hair. My mom always cuts it at home but she never gets it exactly straight." 

The woman looks back at her paper full of questions. In my peripheral vision, the camera's red light blinks in tune with my heartbeat. "Any make-up?" 

"Some lip gloss, I think." I didn't want them going overboard. 

"What's your dress made out of?" 

I look down at it. It's white with lavender embroidery along the edges. "Cotton, I think? Plus the lavender stitching. We don't wear these fabrics as Fives." 

The lady folds the piece of paper in half with a snap. "Thank you, Lady Anna." 

As I'm walking away from the camera setup, Amber taps me on the shoulder. She has Valerie and two other girls - Mary Kate and Georgia - in tow, and together she gives us a quick tour of the palace. We pass the dining room, ballroom, and gardens before heading up to the second floor.  We go down the guest hallway, and before dismissing us to our rooms, Amber tells us that we're not allowed to go to the third floor - which houses the royal family's chambers and offices - without explicit permission. Then, we're released. 

After saying goodbye to Valerie, I step into my room. Three women are already inside, anxiously awaiting my arrival. They seem so flustered that when the door actually opens they immediately start collapsing in on themselves. 

"Hello?" I ask cautiously. 

The tallest one straightens. She has pretty red hair and pale skin. "Sorry, Lady Anna." She glances at her companions again and stifles laughter. "We're your maids. I'm Raya. This is Daniella, and that's Parker."

They all give mistimed curtsies. Daniella is the shortest, with a tan complexion and brown hair tied back under her cap. Parker looks a lot like her, with the same skin tone, hair, and nose but a different eye color (Daniella has brown eyes while Parker has hazel). 

"Are you guys sisters?" I blurt out before I can stop myself. 

Daniella nods. "Yes, we are. I'm nineteen and Parker is seventeen." 

I grin. "Cool." 

They leave soon after to work on my evening gown, telling me to be in the room at five-thirty so they can get me ready for dinner at six. Since it's only four forty-five now, I decide to try and find the palace's library. A friendly guard tells me to go down the first-floor corridor and turn left at the painting of the royal family. 

I go down the staircase to the first floor easily enough and keep walking along the corridor. I keep my eyes peeled for any paintings, and finally, I find one that has the young royal family in it. I can't help but look at it. The king and queen look ten years younger in the photo, and they lean towards each other slightly as they smile at the viewer. Everything between them screams love, and I get sad thinking about how they now appear to hate one another. 

Prince Carson stands in between their legs, probably nine or ten in the photo. Now, he's very angular, with little curves or fat. In the picture, though, the lines of his body haven't smoothed out yet. He's also smiling - something that's incredibly rare. It lights up his whole face. 

Someone clears their throat behind me, and I whirl around. 

"Having fun?" Prince Carson asks, looking at me and then his painted younger self.