The Selection: but less competitive, more wholesome

To Be Okay

With Friday came the Report, at which we were required to attend, though more to be presented than to present ourselves, I believed. Having noticed my penchant for green, they'd stitched—by themselves!--a gown of leafy green, with white embroideries around the collar, circling over my shoulders, and dripping down my sides. It fit closely on the top, and flared out in bundles behind me. I wouldn't have worn something this lovely to either my wedding or my funeral, even after becoming a Two, and to be honest I was afraid to touch it, lest my hands catch the fabric and pull out threads. My maids gathered my hair in dark curls on top of my head, and draped a necklace of spun gold threads over my collarbones. I was relieved that my citrine earrings would do for this outfit, as well, because I was terrified to change them yet.

We trickled in to the studio, and I hovered in the grayness at the edge of the bright stage lights. Zoe came to stand next to me. "I had no idea so many people kept this running. A dozen, perhaps. But this is at least thirty."

"My maids tell me that for every ten people like us living here, another hundred staff are needed to support them."

"One to ten?" she gasped. "That's insane. We don't have nearly that ratio at home."

"I guess you're not running the country," I said with a shrug.

"Yet."

I gave her a friendly nudge with my elbow. "Just give it time."

Silvia bustled over to where the Selected had gathered in loose strings, like jewel-toned frog eggs in a stream. "Just head over to the risers, Ladies. Choose any seat you like."

There was a tippy-tapping hustle as most of us tried to claim the front row, and I was glad not to barge through anyone. Zoe and I chose a place in the back, on the fourth row. Thankfully, the fit of my dress allowed easy climbing of the stairs, though I could have done without the heels, even if they were short. Marlee soon rushed in, spotted me, and waved. She hurried up the stairs like a fluttering yellow flower, and flounced down next to me.

"I didn't order a sunrise." I regarded her with confusion.

She smoothed the bodice of her dress, self-conscious, and breathed a laugh. "It isn't too much?"

"The light is literally bending to bless you instead of the rest of us poor folk. You're radiant."

She laughed, and swatted my arm, shaking her head at my ridiculousness.

In front of us, Amy fidgeted, and turned. "I feel like my pins are falling out. Can you guys check them?"

Marlee tipped forward, and lightly poked her slender fingers through Amy's loose curls. "They feel all right to me, but is that any better?"

She sighed. "Yes, thank you."

"Kira, is there lipstick on my teeth?"

I turned, and Zoe attempted to show me every single tooth in her possession at once. "None at all."

"Thanks. How is he so calm?"

We looked down and across at the prince, who was chatting with a member of the crew. "He must be used to it, I suppose," said Marlee.

I gave a dramatic shiver. It wouldn't be something I'd enjoy getting used to.

Two minutes to cameras, Olivia tripped down the stairs, shoved her head and shoulders into the nearest trash can and relinquished the entirety of her last meal. I stood, but Marlee tugged me back down. "Silvia's already got her," she whispered.

Silvia was already at Olivia's side, helping her right herself, and dabbing expertly at her face and neck to dull the sheen of sweat further betraying her anxiety. She murmured something rapidly to her, misted her with a light spray of water, and set her up in the back with a small bin between her feet.