I don't own The Selection.

thank you guys for all of your input! actually, some of it has been taken into consideration, and you may see it in this chapter :))

Six Months Later - October

"No, no," May said. "I will not wear orange. It will totally clash with my hair!"

America and May sat on the floor, designing and picking dresses for the Halloween Ball. This was probably the most excited I had ever really seen them when it came to a ball or any kind of party.

"Do they always do this?" Peyton asked quietly.

I nodded, rubbing Wilma's soft head. "Almost always. It's like they're possessed."

"Excuse me?" America said, narrowing her eyes at me. "Remember who birthed your children, Maxon Schreave?"

Peyton and I cracked up.

Wilma turned her head so that she was looking up at me under her lashes. She gave a rather large yawn, and put her head back on my thigh. Osborne turned around at the noise. He was sitting on the floor between my legs. They both favored sitting with me.

May sighed and pulled America back into their discussion.

Now they were picking out shoes.

"Is that not exhausting?" Peyton asked me. "It seems like it would be."

"I wouldn't know. Probably."

I was glad that Peyton had loosened up a bit around me. He seemed less worried that he'd say something wrong, which was a relief. It was nice to have another person I could consider a friend, or even a brother.

He was really nice. I could see that he cared for May. That was the important thing to me.

"God, you're heavy, Wil," I muttered. My leg had fallen asleep under the dog's weight. "How much dog food do you eat?"

Wilma sighed and set her head back down.

I still couldn't believe that we'd adopted such huge dogs. One was a Dalmatian—Osborne—and the other was Saint Bernard.

I wished they spent more time with us than they did.

They frequently stayed in the kitchens, where they had become close friends with the staff. At first I had expected Silvia to go crazy over the idea that there were two big balls of slobber and hair running around, but she seemed to enjoy the company. I think everyone did. Now and again, they would show up in my office or in meetings, where they would behave themselves perfectly.

"Okay, you have to wear black, Ames," May said.

"It'll look like I'm going to a funeral!"

"You could be a spider!"

May fell back, laughing and snorting and wheezing. Maybe I wasn't the only one in this building with an embarrassing laugh.

"Shut up," America said. "I'd be a great spider. Maxon could be a bee."

"Don't spiders eat bees? Or insects in general?" I frowned.

May laughed harder, and this time, America joined in. I got the joke and shook my head. These two truly were getting crazier by the day.

"You two are insane," Peyton said, voicing my thoughts. "Why would you dress up like a spider?"

"So I can trap Maxon with my good looks and charm," America said, dramatically pushing her hair off of her shoulder. She flashed a toothy grin at me.

I raised an eyebrow. "Charm?"

"We both know I'm super charming."

"Yes, that's why you almost caused an uproar by proposing we get rid of the castes on national television."

She pouted and turned away.

May rolled her eyes and together, the two went back to picking out outfits. They'd seemed to have chosen colors, and now just needed shoes, hairdos, and types of dresses. I was thankful that all I really wore were suits. Not much work, if I'm honest.

"You two are being useless," May said, looking towards Peyton and I.

Peyton shrugged. "You seem to know what you're doing. We'd be in your way, right Maxon?"

"Right." I said. "We're here for moral support."

"Look what I found!"

I looked up from my book and saw a very giddy America Schreave walking through the door. She was holding a raggedy old journal that looked like it had been through several hurricanes.

She closed the door and jumped onto the bed beside me.

"What's that, love?"

Her eyes lit up. "It's your journal."

"I don't remember keeping a journal," I frowned. "Does it say a year?"

"Hmm,"

She laid beside me, opening it to the first page. I recognized my neat handwriting immediately. After flipping through a few pages, she finally found it. Her head fell back for a second and I could see her doing the math silently.

"You're twenty-four now, so.. you would've been ten."

"No way."

"Can we read it? Together?"

"I suppose,"

With a small blush on her cheeks, she handed it to me. "I want to hear you read it. I like your voice better."

I kissed her softly and leaned back into the pillows of our bed, clearing my throat.

The first page I found was ripped in the bottom corner, and yellowing at the edges. It was old. I found myself wondering if I'd bought it purely for the purpose of keeping track of my life.

"Hi.

My name is Maxon.

I'm ten years old. Almost eleven, actually. I'm writing this because, someday, someone's gonna find it.

Did you know that my name means 'greatest'? I don't think I'm the greatest. Yet. I want to change the world one day. For the better. I mentioned ending Illéa's poverty problem, but Father thinks it's a stupid idea. Mom thinks it's a good idea. He yelled at her for it. He thinks kings should fight wars, not poverty. Maybe I'm not fit to be king.

I got my very first horse a few months ago. I named him Captain because I think he acts like one. He's very nice. His favorite food is carrots and apples.

Daphne made me plan my wedding and pick my dream wife. I think my soulmate would be kind. But I want someone bossy. Someone who could stand up to all these grouchy people in the palace. Someone caring too. And most of all, I want someone who likes dogs.

I'm gonna have a selection. Just like grandpa and Father did. I'm scared. How am I supposed to handle that many girls?

Oops.

I'm late for my lessons with Silvia. She'll blow a vessel.

Yours Truly,

Maxon Schreave

The 12th of July, 3:04 PM

Written in Prince's bedroom"

America and I sat in silence for a moment.

She turned to me, a small smile on her face.

This was unlocking an entirely new part of myself that I'd never known about—well, a part of myself that I'd forgotten about. To be honest, it made sense that some of this had slipped from my memory.

I'd written this fourteen years ago.

"Could you read another?" she asked eagerly. "Only if you want to."

"Of course."

I flipped to the second entry and cleared my throat again, taking a deep breath. It took a moment before I was prepared to read it.

"Hello,

This is Maxon again.

It's been a week since my last entry. Father was angry with me, and he didn't hold back. My back is really sore. I actually had to go see Dr. Ashlar and get stitches. He didn't ask questions. He knows about everything.

Life is pretty boring at the moment.

Silvia's found me a German tutor. He's a grumpy man.

I had to convince Mom that I'm just not feeling good. A cold or something. She's been really worried.

Father made me give an order to send troops into New Asia. Half of them died because of me. I've cried myself to sleep a few times. I feel horrible. All those people. They had families! He says it's just a part of life, but I can't believe him. No one else has to do this.

It's almost bedtime now.

I won't be able to sleep.

Stavros found me walking around the halls at daybreak yesterday. He escorted me back to my room. He's nice.

I've got to go. Bedtime, remember?

Yours Truly,

Maxon Schreave

The 19th of July, 9:30 PM

Written in the Prince's bathroom"

We were quiet again.

I'd written about my father's abuse.

Anyone could've found and read this journal over the years, meaning there could be someone in this building that knew other than the people I trusted.

"Is someone reading in here?" Marlee asked. "Whatcha doing?"

"I found Maxon's old journal." America said.

Lucy appeared. "I wanna hear it! How old were you?"

"Ten," I said. "You sure you wanna hear it?"

They both nodded and sat down.

I turned to the next page.

"Me again.

I haven't been able to do anything today.

Father's been drinking more. He's insane. He gives me lectures on how I'm supposed to be a king and not a sissy. I made a whole list of what I want to do when I'm king, but he burned it.

He hit Mom for the first time.

He smacked her.

Right across the face, too.

I hate him so much. He's been sleeping with other women too. There's this one.. she's young, with long hair. I think her name is Erin Mannor. I've seen her around for a few years. She's why he beats me. I caught them once.

I think I've realized I don't want to be king.

I want to be normal.

I want friends.

It would be nice to have friends. I have Daphne, of course, but I think she like likes me. I just want someone to be my friend and not because I'm rich. I mean, I think I'm pretty nice.

Maybe I'll even have a best friend someday.

That would be nice.

OK, I have another history lesson with Silvia in five minutes. Today I'm learning about the old Illéa—The United States of America. Then I have a German lesson. I'm hoping I'll have learned the language in ten years.

Yours Truly,

Maxon Schreave

21st of July, 5:09 PM

Written in the gardens"

Well, that was sad.

Reading my past-self's thoughts on paper was strange. It was like listening to a different person speak.

Marlee's mouth turned up into a smile. "You have lots of friends now. And you have several best friends. I'd say it all worked out for the better."

"Me too," America said. "Y'know, I saw something in the back."

I flipped to the back.

Sure enough.

There was a page written when I was nineteen. It was about the Selection. I looked up to see several eager faces. I really didn't remember ever writing this.

"There's one from the Selection," I said.

"Read it!" Marlee demanded.

"I found this thing under my bed.

It's been.. what? Almost ten years since I got it. I'm hosting my own selection now. It's down to six girls. Well, five now. Marlee—the people's favorite—was whipped yesterday.

That was the hardest thing I've ever had to watch.

America hates me, Celeste still wants to sleep with me, Elise wants a business partner, and Kriss.. Well, she's odd. Oh, and Natalie. She's here because father insisted on it.

I had to convince my father not to kill Marlee.

Honestly, I don't care that she slept with Woodwork. It wouldn't have worked out anyway. They got married last night. I'm really happy for her.

He cared, though.

I took three quarters of their lashes, which adds up to fifty. I blacked out towards the forty mark. I've found that just breathing helps. Dr. Ashlar gave me around fifteen stitches, so I'll be back to normal in a few days. My back hurts, but I've been through worse. At least he didn't break anything this time. I'll be limping for a while. Oh well.

America, on the other hand, she's given me a severe scolding.

I didn't kick Marlee out on the streets like she thinks.

She's working in the kitchens for now, with Carter. They have fake names for now. I'll pardon them when I'm king.

I need to pick one of them.

Celeste.. Well, she's pretty, sure, but she means nothing to me. Elise and Natalie would be good co-workers, but I wouldn't want their children. Ever. That leaves Kriss and America. Kriss.. She's nice enough. I could manage if necessary. And America? She's my choice. I'd have married her months ago if she returned the feelings. She's packed her bags. I told her she can leave in the morning if she wants to.

I don't want her to, but I won't stop her.

I have the engagement ring picked out. Her maids helped me. Lucy—the blonde—was the most coherent. Anne was squealing and Mary froze. I've finally learned their names."

That was it.

There wasn't an ending statement with my name, the date and time, or where I'd written it. Perhaps I'd forgotten or seen it as unnecessary.

I looked up and Marlee hugged me so suddenly that I froze. She was crying, I realized. What had made her cry?

"You took that much of the punishment?" she whispered. "For me? For us?"

"Of course I did, Marlee."

"You're incredible, Maxon," Lucy said. "Though, I never knew you had any kind of journal. Your thoughts are so well organized."

I laughed. "I didn't know I had this thing either. It's been a few years."

America held my hand, now sitting criss crossed on the bed. She was giving me a sympathetic smile as she let her head fall onto my shoulder. I could feel her laughing.

"Sorry I scolded you,"

"You wouldn't be America if you didn't."

"True."

I looked out the window as we crossed some ocean I didn't know the name of.

Looking out, I could see we were above the clouds. We were flying—literally. It was a magnificent feeling. Ever since I'd been a kid, I'd loved long plane rides. They allowed for my mind to run free and for all of my worries to drift away.

Stavros exited the bathroom, wearing more casual clothes.

He wore jeans and a simple t-shirt, with just socks on. I turned away so he couldn't see my smile.

My mind drifted back to my journal.

I hadn't read anymore of it since America had found it, but I was starting to find myself thinking about it. It was in my bag, which was on the ground next to me. After a moment, I picked up the bag and looked inside.

There was something I hadn't packed inside.

A brand new journal.

I opened it to the first page, which had a note written on it.

Maxon,

I hope you see this. I've stuck this in your bag for a good reason. I was thinking, and realized that maybe writing your thoughts down on paper would be helpful. For what? I don't know. Even if you aren't sure about it, try it. Give it a shot. There's no pressure to ever, ever show me. This is yours.

I love you.

Forever and always.

America

I was shocked.

She was absolutely amazing.

With a quick glance, I saw Stavros absorbed in his book. He was sitting in a recliner, legs crossed and reading glasses on. I turned back to the journal. It was tempting.

What else did I have to do?

I had no paperwork to complete, no rebels to catch. This was time for me to enjoy myself.

Doing the only thing I could, I reached into my bag again and extracted earbuds and my phone. In seconds, I'd picked a song and was met face to face with the journal. Again.

I picked up the pen and began to write.

Greetings,

It's me again.

It's been a while since I've really written anything. America gave me this journal, and I'm thinking of using it. Maybe it'll help me organize my thoughts. Maybe it'll be a hobby.

A quick update.

I'm twenty-four years old, and I'm king. So far, I'm proud of myself. I've changed the inheritance laws, ridded the country of the castes, and I'm thinking of working on poverty.

I'm married to America Singer. We've been married for about six years now.

I have twins—Avery Eden and Roman Elias. Avery is the heir to my throne. She was born ten minutes before Rome. They.. Well, they are the highlight of my life. I love them more than I ever imagined possible.

My parents died in a rebel attack at the end of the competition. Adele is too. I miss them, but the pain is fading. A little, anyways.

After reading my first journal, I feel it necessary to mention this.

I have several best friends. I have a half-sister. I married into an extraordinary family. I've got two dogs—Wilma and Osborne. Stavros is my right hand man.

And I learned German.

Life is great.

I'm on a plane at the moment with Stavros.

I just got done with an international summit in New Asia.

I'm going to change clothes now. Maybe take a nap.

Yours Truly,

Maxon Schreave

The 15th of October, 6:10 PM

Written on a plane

I woke up to see I was still on the plane.

Seeing as there was no rush to wake up, I closed my eyes again and listened to the music my earbuds were providing. I had to admit; being able to relax was a luxury I was missing out on as a father. And as a king.

Finally, I opened my eyes, but didn't move from this position.

I was using the wall of the plane for support, my right hand holding my head up. It was a pretty comfortable position.

The sun was setting.

The sky—a brilliant collage of reds and oranges—was breathtaking. We were gliding over the clouds, moving at a steady pace. In the distance, I could see the bright, glowing circle we humans called the sun. It was like looking at a photograph.

So, doing the reasonable thing, I picked up my phone and sent a picture to America.

She replied in minutes.

That's so beautiful! How's the plane ride?

I smiled. It's great. Ames, I found the journal. Thank you. Are the twins doing okay?

I was hoping you would! They miss you like crazy, Maxon. Avery was asking guards where "Dada" was.

Making me feel guilty already. I love you, Ames.

I love you more, Your Majesty.

We still had over ten hours on this plane ride left.

Looking at Stavros, he looked quite cozy.

My head advisor was engrossed in a thick book that's spine was cracked and broken, reading in an armchair. His reading glasses were set on his nose. I'd never seen him so relaxed. Seriously. Stavros was always the brooding, professional man I'd known since birth.

Only nine hours left now.

It had been two weeks since I'd been at the palace.

That was the longest summit I'd ever attended. It had been exhausting, too.

Stavros and I slipped in the palace's backdoor, keeping our arrival to ourselves and the most trusted staff and guards. The first place I went was to the family room, where I found everyone playing a board game.

I leaned against the doorframe.

Magda had seen me, but I'd put a finger to my lips. She just smiled and returned to the game.

America was looking a little bummed.

"Have you talked to Maxon?" May asked, eyes still on the game. "When's he getting home?"

"Dunno," America said. "I've talked to him a few times."

"What even is an international summit?" Brice huffed.

"There's a lot of arguing," I said, and every head turned. "Nothing exciting."

America's face had lit up, and she threw herself into my arms with no warning at all. I did my best not to let us fall over. She just hugged me for a minute. I kissed her head and smiled.

"You told me it would be hours until you got home!" she said, laughing hysterically.

"I lied," I said. "Miss me?"

"Not the time to get cocky, Max. How did you even get in without some formal greeting?"

"I have my ways."

After I'd said hello to everyone, we went up to see the twins.

They were in their pajamas, seeing as it was nearly nine o'clock here. America went in first, and forced me to stay outside for a minute. I stood talking with Markson for a few minutes.

Very quietly, I opened the door and walked into the room.

"Dada!"

My two little monsters shrieked in excitement, running towards me as quickly as they could. They were much faster now.

I fell to the ground and covered them in kisses.

They squirmed and giggled, of course, but they let me kiss them and kissed me back.

America was holding the camera, taking dozens of pictures. I wanted to thank her for capturing this. It was a moment I never wanted to forget.

When we'd gotten them somewhat calmed down, America and I decided on reading them a bedtime story. They laid in their cribs, and I sat in the rocking chair with America in my lap. She kept an arm around my neck.

"Once upon a time," I read. "There was a frog and a very friendly hamster."

They were asleep within minutes.

I went over to Avery's crib first and leaned over the railing to kiss her forehead.

"Goodnight, my darling," I smiled, and turned around to repeat the process with Roman. "Goodnight, my little monster."

And then I shut the nursery door behind us, grinning at America like an idiot.

(A/N): TW's RQ

TW: INTERROGATION, CRIME, STARVATION

THOSE KINDA THINGS :) (NO COMMENTS ON RAPE OR ANYTHING)

Jamie Kand.

The rebel with a secret identity.

The rebel who sat in front of me.

Like I'd requested, I got to speak with her. She hadn't said one word to me yet, so we sat in silence. That was alright with me. Aspen and Carter—the only two guards who'd come with me were standing beside me.

She was dirty. Mangy, even.

I'd been told she'd denied the offer of a shower, along with almost every meal since she'd been taken into custody six months ago. And she looked it too.

She was skin and bones.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

I shrugged. "What do you want?"

"I want you to leave me alone. Go back to your shiny little desk job. Go make more royal babies."

"I'll leave you alone," I said. "But I have a few questions."

"What makes you think I'll answer them?"

I met her eyes then.

They were a brilliant shade of silver. Her hair had been cut to her shoulders, and her once larger frame was suffering from malnutrition. There were bruises on her face and scars on her neck.

"How old are you, Jamie?" I asked, using the fake name.

"You know that's not my name."

"You're right," I nodded. "I do know that isn't your name."

She narrowed her eyes at me, and I could feel the hatred radiating off of her. I could tell now that she wasn't much older than May. Probably younger.

"I'm sixteen."

The answer caught me off guard, but I was glad I got something out of her.

"So," I said. "If Jamie isn't your name, then what is? Why do you use this different personality, hm?"

"I thought you were a king, not a detective."

"I thought you were a teenager, not a killer."

She glared at me again.

Beside me, Aspen and Carter were tense.

"Why haven't you been eating?" I asked. "I'm sure you've been given options. Is it something personal?"

"You don't care."

"Ah, but you're wrong. I do care."

She laughed, but it was most definitely a false laugh. I knew she didn't believe me. No one ever did, but that wasn't about to convince me to treat anyone lesser than they were.

"Come on," I muttered. "We'll give her a break."

Aspen and Carter nodded, and we headed to the door.

When I touched the doorknob, the girl spoke up.

"Mia," she called. "My name is Mia."

I turned around slowly. "Thank you, Mia."

"And—And sir," she added, pausing. She was opening and closing her mouth, tripping over her own words. "It is personal. Not the food. Just.. it's personal."

"Could you elaborate?"

"The rebel camp raids." she said. "Five years ago. In January."

please tell me what you think about the journal entries! is that something you'd be interested in seeing more of?

hoping i didn't do too badly with the interrogation :)) that will continue into the next chapter or so

(yes, this is a repost in case you're curious! i found some technical errors after i had posted and felt like they were important enough to change!)