The Elite ✓

eight | I see me

"Etiquette in some form across all countries has and will exist in all ages. From the rudest savage who dares not approach his ignorant, barbarous ruler without certain forms and ceremonies, to the most polished courts in Europe, or the home circles of America, etiquette reigns."

illéan royal etiquette booklet

*

The mirror opposite me reflects an image of a girl that looks nothing like myself. A layer of mascara thicker than my skin is applied, as well as purple eyeshadow. It's a shade that compliments my eyes, but also a shade I'd never wear. I'm unsure of my reaction.

Whether the reason for this drastic change in wardrobe which I had vouched for was because of Denise's abrupt exit from the competition, or finally being fed up with the hundreds of nightly throbbing headaches regarding all my fugitive decisions.

My temples are throbbing from insomnia occurring within the last few days since my best friend's departure, but I ignore the burn and make my way down to the royal music room. At this point, I've ignored the feeling of hunger that rumbles within me. 

I've made my way down a couple of times and so far have avoided all forms of human contact, and so far, this is probably the only location that can pass undisturbed.

But today, it's not empty. 

Lucas is waiting for me by the room. By now, the whole palace has heard of my silence but has no idea where I've been going to hibernate in solace. But not Lucas. Of course not Lucas. "You're not okay." He observes.

I take a seat at the grand piano. "Who is, exactly?" There's only a small distance between us. Lucas is seated on the cello stool, the bow moving in a systematic movement. His gaze meets mine.

"Okay, Lady negativity. I shall rephrase. You're very distinctly not-okay. Amongst the pool of the not okays, you stand out by a mile."

A small laugh escapes my lips, "Flattered."

"See, we're making progress! You're actually smiling." He moves across the room to the electric guitar. The single electric guitar. "Can't say I haven't missed it."

I eye him curiously. I'm quite familiar with his cello infatuation. But an electric guitar, that's one I've never heard of.  He must've noticed my suspicion because he motions to me from where I am to come over. 

"Want me to teach you?" He asks, and I laugh daintily. He gaze doesn't waver, "What?" 

"Well, my dearest Lucas. I've already proved hopeless in this instrument. A five, remember. I've practically tried every instrument on the planet at this rate."

He shakes his head, allowing his short, wavy tips to droop on his face. "I'm a half-Five, half-One. So I'd say I'd come across as a relatively decent tutor. Come on, give it a shot?"

"Wait, what?" I look at him incredulously, then I finally understand what he means. Goofball would be a good description for him. The bubbles of laughter resonate within the walls of the room, "No, silly. Castes aren't a nationality,"

He shrugs, "Hurry up, then. As you can see, my jokes are starting to run out."

"You're relentless."

I head over in the opposite direction, to where he's already begun strumming. And I wonder if anyone on the levelled ground would be surprised to hear some sick beats originating from an amp stationed under them.

I laugh at the thought.

Lucas' fingers intertwine with mine as he places them on the selected strings, "Okay, this is the A chord." and as he replants my fingers on different keys, I find myself staring at his build. His body is of the athletic build, the muscles protruding on his skin, but yet, it hasn't reached the state of Hercules. It's balanced, and just the right amount. His skin tone has a pink undertone to it, the rosy complexion. His eyes are darker than his brother's sky blue. Instead, his are a mixture of the deep blue ocean with hints of green. It isn't a definite colour. "The C chord, G chord, B chord."

I find myself getting lost in his eyes.

He clicks his tongue, "Earth to Holly? Staring isn't a good look for you."

"I'm trying to figure out the colour of your eyes," I state, and it's technically not a lie. This time, he moves to my right and so, he has to reach across my body to reposition my fingers. He's smooth, I admit. Lucas' left arm snakes from behind me to the strings where my fingers are, while his other hand wraps around my torso. I collapse into his chest as we begin to strum the guitar, and I can't seem to think of a sweeter moment.

Nothing good can last, apparently, as shown through the fact that a moment later, my maids are barging through the doorway, demanding that I make it back to my room. Lucas bids me goodbye, but I wish it didn't have to be.

"What do you mean there's another Report?" I said in irritation, "Wasn't enough that Denise has already left?"

"No, apparently not." Chauntelle sighs while unzipping the garment bag to reveal a lavender maxi dress to match my makeup, "Though I hear there's a big surprise in store for you ladies this afternoon."

I freeze. Jane sucks in a breath. "Don't worry; If you survived the surprise departure - which you did - you'll be fine today."

Barely, I want to say. I barely survived, if not still affected by the repercussions.

Eventually, the three leave me to my peace, allowing me to catch my breath right before I make my way down the to the Report, but just as I am heading out, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and can't help at wince at what I've become.

"I want to make a statement," I whisper to myself, and so, I take a wipe from the box next to my dresser and rub every single layer off my face, so when I finally look up and decide to turn to face the mirror.  I see me.

I'm not late to the Report, but as the final girl of the five to take a seat, I'm most definitely cutting it close. I wouldn't call my entrance memorable of any sort, but the barefaced strut of mine managed to attract the attention of every single person in the room.

From her seat, America flashed me a reassuring smile, giving me a thumbs up as I steadied my pulse. It was too late to turn around. I took my seat.

And as the lights began to brighten, Gavril walked in with another show-stopping announcement.