"Popcorn?" Blanca offered, holding a cobalt plastic bowl out for me. She was being nice, even more so than expected. Yes, newly engaged to Rowan Christian (who no one besides Blanca could stand), my only older sister had been in mysteriously high spirits for the past four days. And I suppose that I knew her engagement would result in an overall mood shift, but I wasn't expecting anything so drastic…
"Lightly sea salted, no butter?" I clarified, wanting to be sure before I took any.
Blanca gave me a look. "Freak. It's regular popcorn." Ah. She's back. She took the bowl back on her lap, refocusing her attention on this Friday's Report. I did the same.
I had seen so many Reports in my lifetime that I had memorized the routine. At five o'clock sharp, Brenan Gavin would warm up the audience a bit, and get you excited about practically nothing. At five oh five, King Adrian spoke briefly about the progression of the war between India and Italy, and he reminded us again how we were staying out of it for the time being, but we'd loyally come to our ally's defense, should we find a substantial reason. We were at risk of a nuclear holocaust. Everyone knew that, he didn't have to say it. Allies to both sides were rallying quicker than that of a normal war, and half of modern Europe and part of Southwestern Asia were already involved. The big powers, such as Illéa, New Asia, and the Advanced Republic of Africa had yet to involve themselves, but it was only a matter of time. The King's war-talk seemed to be a perfect bridging point for the advisors to come up, at five-twenty, to ask for donations in crops, goods, and money for the troops, and they would try again to encourage volunteers for the army, just in case, so we wouldn't have to employ a draft, should we involve ourselves in the war. At five-forty five, Queen Nadia spoke of her yearly philanthropic project that she had been working on (this year, it was improving the foster care and adoption system and its facilities). Then, with a flip of her effortless golden hair, the queen would take her seat and Brenan would reemerge to close the program by six o'clock.
And all the while, I wouldn't pay much attention at all. I could catch every word they said in the newspaper the next morning, while it's still too early for the regulars to be getting their chai tea lattes and fresh lemon-blackberry scones at Café Impresso, and only a few businessmen would come: those who had to travel outside Waverly for office work and conferences, stopping by for a pick-me-up coffee. No, my attention was acutely turned to Crown Prince Cameron Havillard. Never once, since I first noticed one Report when I was seven, had I seen Prince Cameron smile. He was ever stoic, and he never appeared to have a reason to be happy (I mean, most of what was said on the weekly Capital Report was pretty melancholy, but he didn't even smile for show). He looked disappointed. I'd bet that he'd already memorized the exact pattern of the Report too, that none of the information would be new to him, so it'd be like having to hear it twice, and he'd have a constant, off-putting feeling of de ja vu. He always seemed so bored, so unpleased, his thin lips stuck in their frustrated, permanent line.
I was going to make him smile.
I had decided that a very long time ago: ever since I first noticed that he refused to show so much as a grin ever. And little, I-have-absolutely-nothing-to-be-sad-about-and-I'm-not-sure-why-anyone-else-does Aspen decided that she had to fix that. That was the first time I ever went to the library. When I was brainstorming my plan to make Prince Stoic Steve smile, I found my answer: books, which is why I walked myself to the library after a half an hour of making sure that I had everything, from my white rain coat (in case it rained, even though there wasn't a cloud in the sky) to gym shoes to the plastic knife in my pocketbook and all fifteen of my dollars, just in case. It was easy to find what I was looking for (along with a million other kiddie-novels to read with my dad that night), but after the librarian told me that I could only check out two, I took another ten minutes deciding which books I'd have to sacrifice, which ended up being the joke books I had so carefully selected for Prince Cameron (I had already memorized a couple good ones I could use, so it turned out ok), and strutted home confidently with Charlotte's Web and The Ringing Faye. I silently prayed that he'd understand.
But I was going to do it. I was going to break though his unbreakable shell and we'd be happy. He'd love me. He'd be everything I ever imagined.
And it seems my opportunity had been signed, sealed, and delivered right to my doorstep.
Queen Nadia had already finished her speech and it was only five-forty five. My stomach tumbled, almost sure of what was going to happen now. Prince Cameron had turned nineteen on September the eighth, five days before today, and just two and a half months before me. It was time. My opportunity finally came.
Brenan took the microphone from Queen Nadia, as apologetic as she was excited. I held my breath, knowing exactly what he would say. Just as I knew what Queen Nadia would say, and King Adrian, and the advisors. It was like intuition, I knew.
"Now lets be real a second," Brenan begins, his dark eyes glinting. "A king would be nothing without his queen. We all know it-sorry King Adrian." The king waved his hand dismissively, turning to smile lovingly at his wife. That could be us. I thought, smiling dreamily to myself. Me and Cameron. That could be us one day. "And with our dashing Crown Prince Cameron only two short years of assuming the throne and becoming the king himself, he's going to need his own queen. And he wants someone with heart, ladies, not just some foreign Duchess to improve connections. As per tradition, the king and queen have agreed to host thirty five Illéan young ladies at the palace for our nation's fourteenth Selection!" He waits as those on stage applaud, for dramatic effect. "Applications have already been sent out, and should reach every eligible girl in the next one to three days. Applying is not mandatory, but anyone who wouldn't want to marry this guy is a fool, as our beloved king and queen have raised him to be the strong, responsible man who we can trust our country with in no more than two years, as he becomes a legal adult. We have all the faith in the world he'll make a great king one day, and our country needs a great queen to stand by his side." I look back to Cameron, who's face still hasn't budged. If he's excited about his upcoming Selection, he doesn't let on. But that could easily be a cover. If he seems icy to the public, they have no reason to diminish him in silly tabloids. I wait for Brenan to move the mic over to him, but he never does. "Alright, that's all for this evening. Join us next Friday for your next Illéan Capital Report!" The camera shuts off, leaving us back to our regularly scheduled programming.
"I can enter the Selection, right mom?" My youngest sister, Chandler, asks, her smug smirk directed at me. She knew how badly I wanted this. It wasn't such a secret that Chandler didn't like me, if only because Blanca didn't like me either, and she was dead set on being exactly like Blanca.
"Not this one." My mother sighed. Chandler grin dissipated. "You're only fifteen, Chandler. The cut off is sixteen. You'll be able to enter Prince Mason's Selection, next year. And even Prince Connor's Selection in four years. Just not Prince Cameron." She rubbed my sister's arm as she growled. "Aspen and Persephone, however, are free to enter, if they'd like."
"I might," Persephone laments, fiddling idly with her thick, dark chestnut hair. "I'll think about it, I guess."
I stare at my fingers, which I realize I should paint for my picture, when I send in my application. I'm not sure if you see something like hands in your Application Picture, but it wasn't worth the risk.
"Aspen, love?" My father asks, hoping to catch my attention. As if he didn't know that I had listened to every word, even if I pretended not to care. "Do you think you'll enter?"
"Oh. I don't know." I say casually, trying not to show my bubbling excitement. Blush. I should paint my nails blush. "I think so. Maybe."
"Alright, honey." He says, sending me an encouraging smile. "We'll support you, whatever your choice is." That's the signal. The conversation is pretty much over.
Chandler stalks off to the room she shares with Persephone (even though she'd love to trade for mine with Blanca, when she still lived with us, but my parents didn't let her), and one by one, the rest of us get up to follow. Nate, my oldest brother Declan's six-month-old son, has slept though the Report and gets up to let out a sob. Ella, his mother, quickly apologizes, saying that her and Declan should leave soon, if they want Nate to sleep through the night. My mother sees them to the door, and Blanca announces that her and Rowan should probably be leaving too, which is Persephone's cue to take her Aspirin and grab headphones, hoping to drown out the constant noise coming out of Chandler's phone when she thinks we're fast asleep and unable to hear her. When it's only me and my dad left in the Family Room, he makes a quick motion for me to stay as he jogs to the kitchen.
He comes back bearing a book.
"The Beautiful and the Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald." He grins, proud of his finding, as he hands the book to me. I can't even contain my awe, and let my mouth part to let out a gasp. "I found it at that vintage bookstore you asked me to check out. Great find by the way, Aspen. That place is incredible! One of a kinds like these sold at fifteen per paperback! I mean, how often have you seen Fitzgerald in the Library?"
"I don't think I even have… Oh my God, Dad, this is incredible!" I stammered, a whole new kind of excitement filling my insides. Nearly a hundred and fifty years ago, with the reign of King Maxon and Queen America, a new era of resurfaced technology and previously banned books came about. After our former continent of North America became Illéa, a huge mass of culture was discreetly wiped out so as to turn us into practically a fascist nation. But after the rediscovery of computers, mobile phones, and some of the most revered literary examples (books, plays, folios, poems, etc), the world was finally able to progress in medicine, public relations, and global understanding. Copies of classics like Fitzgerald were practically one of a kind.
"You can read it until Wednesday, I'm taking it on my conference in Yukon." My dad allows. I turn through the pages greedily, careful not to damage to already worn spine.
"Please, you know I'll have it finished by dinner tomorrow, Sunday if I'm busy." My dad smiles.
"Enjoy it, love." He gives me a kiss on my forehead and stretches on the way to his bedroom.
Stifling a yawn, I traipse down the hallway and throw my brown tresses, unbrushed, into a ponytail to keep them out of my face. Curling into my covers, I open the book a crack and begin to read. No matter how tired I am, it's a facilitated habit that I can't fall asleep until fifteen minutes minimum of recreational reading. My dad used to read to me every night when I was a child, and I'd often force myself to stay awake so that I could have alone time with just him. Growing up with five siblings, minutes like those would be found far and few between. But now, I find it an unbreakable habit, but that's alright. It brings me closer to my father.
In 1913, when Anthony Patch was twenty-five, two years were already gone since irony, the Holy Ghost of this later day, had, theoretically at least, descended upon him. Irony was the final polish of the shoe, the ultimate dab of the clothes-brush, a sort of intellectual "There!"— yet at the brink of this story he has as yet gone no further than the conscious stage…
I can't concentrate. No matter how hard I try. After four futile chapters, I force myself to bookmark the page and shut out the light.
All I can think about is the Selection.
The dresses. The lifelong friendships. The romance. The drama. The television spots. The makeovers. The possibility of meeting the Royal Court and becoming part of a family so beloved by their nation that the rebellion has near dissipated and been replaced with undying loyalty.
The smile. The smile that I would be the cause of, that I could do the impossible.
The Selection practically thrived on impossibilities.
The impossibility that you get to be the one girl out of millions in your province, all of them equally deserving, to come to the palace and find true love.
The impossibility of reinventing yourself, of becoming desirable to the one person to fall in love.
The impossibility of making the unbreakable Prince Cameron smile.
But impossibility in itself leaves room for daring and chance, it makes way for all that you could possibly dream.
If you cower to the idea of impossibility, you'll never see that it's all overridden by chance.
Hey guys! Glad you could get this far ;) (please read the rules because any violation of them would lead to a complete waste of time, so just read them for your own sake)
CLARIFICATION: I'm not exactly sure how this story will be written. It will most likely be mainly from Aspen's POV (like how the original Selection novels were only from America's), but I might have occasional POVs from royals or even the other Selected! I really hope that my having a character in my story doesn't deter you from submitting, because she might not necessarily win at all.
I'm aiming for around five main characters besides Aspen, as supposed to the usual 8-10. There will still be the standard 10 Elite, however, and if I think girls are deserving of a main status, I will let them be a main, regardless of how many I already have.
Please submit using the exact form below. Fill out every portion that does not say optional. If you have anything else to say about your character, that's what the Anything Else section is for.
Illéa's fourteenth Selection will soon commence! I'm sure you guys know how the competition works, buthere is my OWN set of rules for this contest (strictly about the Application you send in)
My first rule is going to be this: I'd GREATLY PREFER you avoid cliché occupations, if possible (for twos: actress, model; for threes: teacher, writer; for fours: farmer, jeweler, baker; for sixes: maid [Yes, fives and sevens are not on this list because jobs for them are more similar and/or limited, so any occupation is acceptable]). My dear friend 4Love4Love4 created an amazing PowerPoint that has a complete list of jobs, and many are very creative. Most I've never seen done before. Try to think outside the box in terms of jobs!
If you choose to disobey rule one, you'd better have a DARN GOOD REASON to why this occupation fits your character and how it dictates their lifestyle. This had better be IMPORTANT if you're going to stick with a cliché. I will accept these jobs IF it has an AMAZING backstory to it, where this job is absolutely necessary to who the character is as a whole
There will be no ones or eights in this competition.
I've seen some really WEIRD names used in SYOCs, and also really ORDINARY. Don't give me Yolandita, but don't give me Jane. I guess, give me any name, but I might have you change it. If there's a certain reason for this name, please specify.
My application is long enough to where there is no acceptable reason why your character is one PM. You should aim for three-four, and two BARE MINIMUM. I've sent in apps that were 11 PMs before, I think you can manage three. If your application is one PM you're doing something wrong, it's not physically possible I don't think…
Obviously the more creative (without being TOO weird) the character is, the more chance there is she'll be Selected and/or a main character. Especially the main character thing.
I'm expecting the creators of the main characters I select to give me an update every few chapters on how I'm portraying their character. I know that I can always improve, so reviews are much appreciated. I'd expect myself to have my "regulars", as many other SYOC stories have, but reviews are constant reinforcements that I feel like I sometimes need to get myself to write. It's like an incentive. If you like what you read, please tell me! And if it's trash, tell me! (obviously don't say it like that, but I accept any constructive criticism)
All supporting and main characters must be submitted by PM. If you're sending in a character via review, they're guaranteed minor, if they're Selected in the first place. I'm VERY particular about this, as I need to regularly get in touch with the author and don't want forms to be public, so I can include details at my own pace.
I always encourage ethnic diversity! I would like to strive for at LEAST two black girls, Latina girls, New Asian girls, and Indian girls in this story. That doesn't sound like much at all, and yet I've never seen an SYOC with the minimum of these quantities…
Please, no girls with hetrochromia or albinos or anything unless you have a SPECIFIC face claim that I can use. Also, try not to use generic or overly-popular face claims (also, see my Pinterest board and profile for a list of taken face claims), and make them age appropriate! Not to sound discriminatory, but they SHOULD be pretty, because the Selection is NOT exactly a lottery… UNIQUE looking is fine, but they have to be at least SOMEWHAT visually appealing.
For organizations sake, PLEASE send in your character with the PM titled with your character's first and last name. I'm SUPER OCD about this and hate hunting for forms that aren't labeled correctly! If they go by a nickname, please put that in parenthesis between their first and last name (for example: Magdalena "Lena" Haloway, if we were reading Delirium)
Don't make carbon copies of America, Eadlyn, or Aspen. I feel like that should go without saying.
OK HERE'S THE FORM I SINCERELY HOPE THAT I DIDN'T SCARE YOU GUYS AWAY!
Full Name:
Nicknames (liked/disliked. Any and all):
Age:
Birthday:
Caste:
Occupation (check 4Lov4Love4's pp., and try to steer clear of cliché jobs please!):
Reason They Chose Their Occupation:
Province of Choice (If there's an important reason please specify):
Celebrity Look Alike:
Hair:
Eyes:
Skin Tone:
Height/Weight/Build:
Other Facial Features:
Style Before Selection (can be brief):
Makeover Changes:
Signature Scent (Link to List On My Profile):
Selection Style (Casual, Formal, Jewels, Hairstyles, Makeup, Etc.):
Personality:
Quirks/Character Facts (as many as possible, please):
History/Background:
Health Concerns (even if small):
Languages Spoken:
Likes/Hobbies/Talents:
Dislikes/Weak Areas:
Family (Name, Age, Job, Personality, Appearance, Relationship w/Character):
Pets?:
Best Friends (Name, Age, Caste/Job, Personality, Appearance, Enter the Selection?):
Past Relationships (Name, Age, Caste/Job, Personality, Appearance, Current Relationship w/Character, if any):
What They're Looking For in a Friendship:
How They'd Get Along W/Selected Already Mentioned (optional):
Maids (three: Name, Age, a bit on Personality and Appearance):
How They'd Treat The Maids:
Thoughts About Prince Cameron) (NOTE: Aspen has very acute senses and has spent several years fawning over the Prince. Not everyone's going to notice that he never smiles):
Ideal First Date:
Reason for Entering:
Important Personal Items:
Theme Song:
Anything Else:
Thanks! Hope you guys submit!