Chosen: A Selection Fanfiction

I Didn't Think You'd Ever Leave

I sigh and blow a curl out of my eyes, scrubbing the table ferociously. I dunk the sponge back into the bucket of soapy water and move to the next table, hating every second of working here. At my parents' restaurant. I hear the bell over the door ring and a crowd of girls prance in, taking up an entire booth. I can overhear them gossiping to one another.

"Did you hear?"

One scoffs. "Of course I heard. We all heard. Are you entering?"

"Yes! He's so cute!"

"Do you think you'll actually get Selected?"

The girl who scoffed rolls her eyes. "Of course. I'll be the one Selected from Carolina. Prince Adrian would love to have me as his princess."

Ah, yes. Dear Prince Adrian. The current prince of Illéa has finally come of age and he's having his Selection. To be honest, I think he's a real snobby brat. He's all ruffled blonde hair and rumpled clothes and too-cool attitude. But hearing those girls talk about applying to his Selection gives me an idea.

I quickly finish scrubbing the tables and put the sponge and the bucket of water in the back. 

"Hey, Beck?" I call.

"What is it, Ell?" He yells back from the kitchen. I find him there and tug his hairnet over his eyes.

"I'm taking my break an hour early. I'll be back. Get Jules to cover me if you need to."

I dart out of the kitchen quickly before he can grab me like he did yesterday. He shouts after me about how I need to take my responsibilities more seriously, but I ignore him and hurry over to the booth of the giggly girls. They look surprised.

"Hi, I'm Elliot and I work here," I say rapidly. "Where can I get a form for the Selection?"

The main girl seems skeptical. "Here...have one. I have extras." I have to restrain from rolling my eyes, but I take the pale blue sheet of paper she withdraws from her purse.

"Thank you!" I thank her and rush out of the restaurant, but not before I hear her say to her friends, "She's hopeless. We have no competition with her."

I sigh and head home quickly. I go to my bedroom and lock to door behind me, scrambling around to find a pen. Once I do, I painstakingly begin filling out the form.

Full name. That's easy enough. Elliot Ivy Starling. Age? Seventeen. I scribble down all the answers to the questions. I'm a Four. I work at my parents' restaurant. I'm interested in the violin and science. My appearance is easy enough. Tan skin. Loose black curls that fall to my waist. Forest green eyes. Then what I dislike. What do I dislike?

Perfection.

Once I finish the form, I stick it in the back pocket of my work uniform. I go to hand it in before I head back to work, astounded at the amount of forms there were. There must have been thousands from girls from Carolina. I wouldn't stand a chance.

oOo

After I return to work and recover what's left of my shift from Juliet, I only need to work for another twenty minutes before Juliet, Beckham and I get to close up.

"Where did you go today, Ell?" Juliet calls to me as I lock the doors in the back. "I had to cover your shift for you! I almost spilled nachos on Ms. Berkman, but she laughed and gave me ten dollars!"

I shake my head. "I went nowhere, Juli. It doesn't matter."

I hear her padding footsteps coming from behind me. "If it doesn't matter, then what's this?" She giggles and tugs the Selection form out of my back pocket.

"Give it back, Juliet!" I shout as she darts away from me, ducking under my grasping hand.

"Never!" She cackles.

"Jules!" I plead, chasing her around. She locks herself in one of the storage closets and I pound my fists on the door, begging her not to read it, but I hear her gasp and unlock the door.

"The Selection?" She says dully, holding it up. "How could you?"

I immediately feel terrible. "Jules, wait. Let me explain."

She shakes her head, on the verge of tears. "I knew you hated it here, but I didn't think you'd ever leave. I didn't think you'd ever leave me." She crumples the form into a ball and throws it at me, storming out of the restaurant in tears.

I pick up the form and smooth it out. Beckham opens the kitchen door. "What's the matter?"

I sigh. "Juliet found out I was entering the Selection, and she totally overreacted, and"-

"You're entering the Selection?" Beckham says disbelievingly. "How could you, Ell?"

"You too? What are you talking about?" I exclaim, exasperated.

"Elliot, you can't leave us." Beckham tells me, his voice low.

"Why not? You know I hate it here. Besides, it's not like I'd ever get picked."

"You are the glue that holds our family together." He explains quietly. "We need you."

In reality, I'm the one tying them down from having a perfect life.