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I woke to the faint smell of baked beans. I could hear Doctor Pival whistling an old hymn as he cooked breakfast. I had submitted my order, as usual, on a small card the night before, pushing it through his letterbox. It was late, probably gone eleven o clock, so I was surprised that he'd obliged.

I quietly ate my rashers of bacon, dipping them into my poached egg. Doctor Pival was a good cook, but he couldn't quite nail a full English Breakfast. It had been eight years since I'd had it cooked by a Brit, and it was never the same. I could never pinpoint what they got wrong: the egg kept good structure, the bacon was from a decent cut of Canadian pig, heck, they even managed to get hold of black pudding, but it just wasn't the same.

Breakfast was eaten, with the usual quiet murmuring between the boys. As I sat down, I noticed that Damien, a new recruit was sobbing into his cereal. I hadn't spoken to him yet, but had heard on the grapevine that he was a sensitive kid who wasn't adjusting too well.

'Hi.' I said to him. He took a quick glance at me before burying his head into his soggy bran flakes for another outburst. I placed my hand gently on his shoulder and he jolted up, as if I was about to attack him.

'Look, I just wanted to say, that... I know this move can be a little scary, but we've got a really nice environment with some good people. Once you get used to it, I'm sure you...' Before I could finish, he'd sprinted to the door, wailing for his mother, and chased by three laughing older boys. I sighed, finishing my mediocre eggs, alone.

After breakfast, we read our oaths, had a quick wash before dressing one another, and getting to work. Today, I would be wrapping the candles. I'd been working on candles for six months, and the pungent smells of 'Lavender', 'Sun & Sands', and 'Autumn Leaves' had developed an automatic gag when entering the production room. I was one of five wrappers. My friend Joe added the bows and passed them on to Dhani, who would box them. Then the address was written in black marker by Li, who would leave them by the back door for the courier to collect. Li would always gloat about his role, as he'd be able to sneak a look through the letterbox, at the paper-thin green creatures hanging from the great brown pillar outside. None of us had the heart to tell him what a tree was.

As I opened my box of twenty assorted flavours, a miasma of artificial smells hit my lungs and I coughed over my wrapping paper, shooting it high into the air.

'Man, the girls aren't taking prisoners this year, huh?' Dhani joked.

'I know. Don't they know it's based on how many we make, not how powerful they smell?' I carefully placed a white candle labelled 'Cottage Breeze' into the paper and fingered it shut, carefully. 

'Still. Can't blame them for trying. It's all they can do, really. You know, I barely even remember what they look like? It's only the ceremony that tops my memory up for another year,' Dhani replied, gloomily.

'Don't be ridiculous. They're just like us, but with long hair and big orbs on their chest. I don't see what the big deal is.' I undid the string of my candle for the fifth time and let out a short, frustrated noise.

'You my friend, are an enigma. I for one, cannot wait to explore the kind of candle making that they've got in mind. That's why I'm going to win this year and leave you losers in my lavender scented dust!' We both laughed. Then Dhani paused and lowered his voice.

'Did you hear about the old girl in 22A? They say she's been on candles since she was fourteen: never paired. My friend Rodrigo told me she's thirty-seven now. Thirty-seven! What's the point of living?! There's no way an old maid like her is getting paired now! Rodrigo says she towers over the rest of the girls. It's super humiliating.' Dhani's distracting side smile was one of my favourite things about him. The pushing up of his chiselled cheek bones made his deep brown eyes pierce through the natural light.