The Selection (Is A Modelling Competition)✔️

Chapter 17: Tea and a Catfight

As we walked down the lacquered hallways - complete with vases of flowers whose names I didn't know, plush benches, and gleaming floors covered with thick, elegant rugs - May and Mom bombarded me with questions about the competition.

How was Maxon, what were the other girls like, did Maxon have any cute brothers May could marry, (because for some reason she believed he liked me as in more-than-friends, or in May-speak, liked me liked me). By the time we got to the room, I was exhausted but happy, and more than glad to hand May and her big mouth over to Marlee. They got along instantly.

I tried to relax in the lush room, admiring the decor that was as beautiful as any other part of the palace. There were elegant clusters of little tables and sofas all over the room, the tables made up of intricate coils of black metal with marble tops, the sofas all cream or grey or pink, and tufted. Crystal chandeliers reflected glittering light onto the floor, which was black and white tile. The wallpaper was grey and cream floral, and the room got warmer as more and more girls filed in.

Kriss made her way into the parlour cheerfully, greeting all of us with a smile and courtesy that befitted any princess. I had no doubt she'd be a finalist - or, as it was called in this competition, in the Elite - and for some reason the thought worried me. A moment later, Elise strode in quietly, seating herself near Kriss and her family. Celeste floated in ten minutes after her, and only a minute before the queen. Accompanying her was her mother, who was equally sophisticated, and just as snooty; her eyes skated right past May, Mom, and I with a look of disdain and a whispered comment to her daughter.

Amberly waltzed in serenely, her dark hair pulled back from her face and held in place with a heavy jewelled comb that reminded me of a crown. We all stood up as she arrived with a retinue of servers behind her, who immediately began pouring tea and offering pastries. May looked like she might die of happiness; we were seated near the centre, where Amberly was holding court. Unfortunately, Celeste and her mother had also chosen to sit there.

"Some tea?" A girl who looked no older than I was held a porcelain teapot hear my delicate china cup and saucer, which was painted with blue and gold flowers.

"Yes, please," I replied, surprised at how accustomed to the luxuries of the "palace" I'd become in only a month.

"With how much sugar?" She picked up the tongs on the heavy tea tray that she'd placed on the table. 

"One lump, please." The server obliged, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Celeste causing a scene. Always the centre of attention.

"How did you even get this job if you can't pour a simple cup of tea? There is tea all over my dress!" She was shouting. The girl looked like she was on the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry!" She kept saying. "It was an accident!"

"Don't be sorry," she huffed. "Get lost!"

I couldn't believe she would talk to anyone that way, much less in a place that wasn't even her own home. "Celeste, you have no right to talk to her that way!"

"Stay out of this, America." Celeste whirled towards me, braids flying. "Just look at what she did to my dress!"

The girl, who had previously been leaving, hovered near the double doors. "So she made a mistake. It doesn't mean you can be a bitch about it!"

"What did you just call me?" Her mouth fell open. "That girl is nothing more than a Six, and i was just making sure that she doesn't forget that."

"A Six?" I repeated. Calling people numbers was an archaic insult, a reminder of Illea's caste system that had been demolished forty years ago. "She is a person, just like you or me - "

"Enough!" Amberly stood up from her seat, hands on her hips. Her voice was quiet but firm. "Both of you stop this. We will finish our tea, I will make rounds with all the girls, and you two will keep quiet."

I sat down and picked at my macaroons, fuming silently.