CRAZY RICH ILLEANS

III

Price Tags and Bow Ties


Her first full day in Illéa passes, and Maeve gives in to the jetlag. It's not a good idea, but Anna and the threat of going through her grandmother's will is reason enough to sleep early—to rest. She needs it.

She meets Anna early in the morning, to discuss her grandmother's will. She still can't see her grandmother—hospital—but honestly, the awkwardness of the meeting and the potential discussion about the Boyfriend Selection™ makes that acceptable. Maeve is fond of Rebecca Schreave, but by no means does she like this 'settling down' idea. It's strange, off-putting and Illéa hasn't been her home in a decade. Meanwhile, the paperwork, even with Anna walking her through, is boring and proves to be no distraction. There's always the fact that Anna has just as much knowledge about legal work as Maeve does. The only thing they really needs is to know what (and that's a lot) and how to inherit. Daphne's notes are clear—Rebecca believes that Maeve will 'settled down' by the time of her death. There's not much left to discuss.

"Is that all?" she asks Anna either way.

"Well…" Anna begins and leans against the wall of the Schreave tower office that Maeve is occupying now. "You can always ask your mother if you can go and start learning how to run the family business?" Both women laugh. Later—not with this jetlag. She'd mess up big time. "Besides that, you need new clothes."

Maeve looks down at her outfit—the same as yesterday. She couldn't be bothered in the morning. It's not that bad in her opinion; it looks good and probably costs a lot. Maybe it's even one of her most expensive outfits. Therefore, it looks perfectly fine—no need for new clothes!

"To be exact, you look like you're trying to be rich, but would drink champagne from a wine class."

(Ouch. Maybe not 'perfectly fine'.)

"I wouldn't—!"

"I know, I know." Anna waves it off. She's too honest. Maeve cringes. "Yet, you dress new-rich. Someone who'd wear Supreme or plaster brand logos all over them. Your family was among the bourgeoisie, the wealthy and what not even prior to Illéa being build—they were involved into that! You look like your dad won the lottery and invested into the right start up," she lectures. "You, out of all people, should now better than to flaunt wealth."

"That's a bit…" Maeve leans back into the chair. If that's true, she has to change, but she's pretty much wearing what she did everyday abroad… Nobody commented badly there…

"So, it's true that you hung around a bunch of people of…"

Maeve breaks her off. She knows her origin story. "I lived under the name Maeve Daulton in Los Angeles and Miami—Malibu, whatever—and kept going with it for a while. Mum wanted me away from the whole drama here, so she stuck me with some distant relatives that… well… are not as well off as I was used to." She shrugs. They were cool. Rich kids too. Sure—nothing like the people she was used to here, but fun to be around. That included miss Dad-got-me-a-record-contract-and-now-I'll-debut-next-week. "It was fun, but a little annoying if you have to pretend you fly first class."

"Yeah, rich kid problem right there," Anna chuckles. "I'm gonna call your mom's favourite designers and schedule appointments. You will need something for all that high society stuff happening, too."

"The Rose Cotillion is in a month."

"Your cousin's birthday isn't."

"Oh, right."

Anna checks her tablet. "There's his birthday part on the beach the night before, and then there's the reception your aunt is organising. You can't show up in Supreme to that beach party." She pauses. "It's at the Choi's mansion, isn't it? They work with your family. Make an impression on their heiress, Maevy. As for the reception, your grandmother will be there and I doubt she'd want you wearing—" Vague gesticulated motions. "—this. Nor would I. You need to make a good impression," she added. "No pressure."

Maeve deadpans. "Right. No pressure." She can't say she feels that much pressure. She isn't the type to fall for pressure—never did when she lived with the Daultons in Los Angeles, and never did when she lived with her mother's family in Hong Kong and never when she travelled onwards. Maeve is proud to say—she isn't falling for pressure. Never ever. "So?" she therefore asks.

"Go through some boutiques too, maybe? The good ones—the ones that I couldn't afford with my whole annual salary," she teases.

"Sounds expensive," she mutters under her breath.

Anna shrugs. "It is, I guess, but it's also not my money."

How she's capable of being so nonchalant about this is a mystery to Maeve. Of course, she's Gemma Maeve Schreave, the richest girl in all of Illéa, but she can't understand—can't fathom—how Anna is thinking. To waste someone's whole salary on clothes… She thinks of Los Angeles, Wellington and Hong Kong.

"That's cool with you, or do you got any plans I need to consider?"

Not with the lack of friends she has here. "No, nothing."

Anna stans up. "Sweet. I'll get going, then. Unlike someone else, I have work, so have fun with sitting around. I'm sure your mother would appreciate some help though."

"Hmhm… Tomorrow or so."

Anna leaves. Home sweet home. Maeve is alone.

(She does not look at the links Anna sends her later on.)

Between sleeping, personal studies and helping her mother, Maeve's preference is sleep—but that's not how you beat jetlag, so that's out of question. She yawns, and gets up, to talk to her mother about that helping part. She does end up reading through a few things.

And so, a bunch of days filled with paperwork, her personal studies (which predominantly consist of watching a K-drama with and without subtitles) and more and more realising that she knows nobody in Illéa except her cousin—thanks Instagram and photos of friends partying in New York, gosh how much I want to be there—later, she ends up spending a bit too much time online. Maeve catches up. Learns. Watches. Cyberstalks, details.

Estelle Mun is indeed quite the celebrity in Illéa—more because of the mystery of her identity than because of the love advice (which, apparently, is good though). People gossip about her, and that one caller, America. Maeve doesn't know if she likes that spotlight or not (fame—yay, attention to the Boyfriend Selection™, nay).

Vaelston is not canon and only a ship between two rich kids that also happen to run that fancy club, The Goldfinger, and for some reason, it feels like half of Illéa's teenage population is all over them. They're another product of Estelle becoming Illéa's gossip girl. They aren't even One Direction or BTS. Maeve is surprised. Illéa has no taste. Except they do look good… There are a bunch of other celebrities, ranging from reality TV show kid to social media influencers, and a bunch of them tag #CrazyRichIlléans, instead of #RichKidsOfIlléa how everyone else would do. They seem to be a clique. Maeve frowns. This isn't high school—they're far off that!

(She sees Noah and Kenzie in it. Maybe knowing that he's got so many good friend hurts more than this not being home.)

There's little brand logo-ing on their Instagram. There's life—experiences, fun, shout outs to people from all over the world. No five thousand Starbucks shots and staged photos of travelling. The photography is only on the accounts of people who seem to enjoy it genuinely—not for the likes. Some just document their life; others literally just mess around. Vienna van Well—Noah mentioned her, didn't he?—is one of these cases. She looks pretty, is the daughter of the Illéan prime minister, and definitely another kid of the Illéan elite, but her Instagram isn't filled with brands and money, but with beautiful sceneries, quotes, art and memories.

(Her life looks so full, it hurts—even when she has done so much more.)

Anna's words echo in her thoughts. "To be exact, you look like you're trying to be rich, but would drink champagne from a wine class."

Their life looks like a dream—but not the unrealistic, overdone way she is used to. Similar to Vienna are others—Orianna Vasilieva and Poppy Astor stand out online. Influencers, Maeve concludes. She finds more—Rina Klydeworth, Perci Santos and Hollywood A-lister Juan Santiago. Too many names. Maeve isn't even sure who is who by now. It's going be a while until she's found her place in this particular group of people, but Maeve decides: these are the people she wants to be friends with. And Gemma Maeve Schreave gets what she wants. She'll be the new centre of their friend group, if they want it or not.

(Except Noah is part of them and he'll stop them from hanging out with them, just because of a few careless remarks ten years ago…)

Being the centre of attention is her life. She is the physical embodiment of that one kid that could afford just a little more (they had no idea how much she could have done) than everyone else—and the one everyone wanted to be friends with. They thought she is Maeve Singer, but no—she is Gemma Maeve Schreave. Period. She's the heiress to the Schreave empire.

(Maeve repeats that so often in the following days, she can't hear her own name anymore.)

Between paperwork and studies, she begins to delete and edit, gets her account verified (because everyone in Illéa with a name has the tick) and outlines what the updated gemmaeve account will be. Between shadowing her mother, trying to get updates on her grandmother and finishing the K-drama she's been watching, she changes her name online from 'Maeve Daulton' to 'Gemma Maeve', as it should be. Her user name remains; previously understood as '[the] gem maeve', it's now a portmanteau of her name—gemmaeve. She updates. This isn't 'bunch of kids doing well', it's the Illéan elite. Period. The real deal. She has to be Gemma Maeve Schreave again. It's just been a damn while since she last did. Since she genuinely tried to. Maeve Daulton and Gemma Maeve Schreave feel to different but—she has to be Gemma Schreave.

She has to be.

She has to be.

(Just how…)

Ignoring the identity crisis, sometime in between, she heads to the first designer appointment and sits down, discusses, choses and everything. Anna tags along—she's been at enough society events to know how it looks like—and comments—more often than Maeve would like her to. A bunch of bags is already in the car when Maeve walks through examples for the Rose Cotillion. She's got her outfit for Noah's birthday sorted from the boutiques Anna dragged her to, but the Rose Cotillion is another thing. She likes shopping, but no debutante balls.

(Not when she's gonna be the odd one out.)

"These prices are ridiculous."

"Oh, come on, people pay thousands to go onto the Rose Cotillion," Anna replies, almost insulted. "You are invited. People dream of that. I would have liked to, when I was your age." She's what? Five years older?

Maeve glares. "You can be my body-double. We're the same height, nobody's will tell us apart."

She sighs and leans back into the comfy chair. The designer has left for a moment—Maeve's taking her sweet time either way. She turns a page, looks at more white gowns. They definitely look pretty, and the designer is decent. She hasn't heard the name, but then again, the only names she has heard of are Gucci and Michael Kors.

"How much is this one?" she asks, pointing at a pretty one. No—that's false; all are pretty. She's just going through the pages, avoiding the inevitable bill in the end.

Anna shrugs. "Four figures? Maybe five? Who knows? Do you care?"

Again, Maeve glares. "Do you?"

"It's not my bank account, Maevy."

It isn't hers yet either, but she isn't so sure about spending four figures on a dress she'll wear one time and never use again. "I am aware of that."

Anna grins. "That's why I love this job. I get to see all the money spent, but I don't lose a penny."

"How much do you spend on average on these dresses?" Maeve mutters. Whoever created the portfolio, they definitely failed at adding the numbers to them.

Again, Anna shrugs. "You pay around twenty thousand dollars to get into the Rose Cotillion per person. I doubt people care about how much the dresses cost. Look at your mother—she's going lengths to avoid me seeing how much she spends on furniture, clothes and food." She shrugs. "People don't want to know the price tag."

(That's not how it worked in California.)

"Hmhm." Maeve turns another page, another pretty gown. She'll need to go on, maybe visit some other designers. These dresses are pretty, but she wants to compare prices. Even though she is Gemma Maeve Schreave, she can't get herself to just ignore the price…

Anna looks up. Maeve catches it from the corner of her vision; her eyes are still nailed to the white dresses. She cringes. Anna mentioned having custom-designed dresses earlier… She turns another page of the portfolio. The door opens.

Through the door comes a young woman with brown, curly hair and a pretty smile on her face. Again, Maeve recognises her, but can't place the face. She nods to Anna and Maeve, who are still sitting in the lounge of the designer's office. Following the brunette is a face that Maeve definitely recognises.

Juan Santiago.

(A-list actor. Academy award nominee. Crush of countless girls.)

She's seen him in person before (but, even though she is Gemma Maeve Schreave, doubts he knows her) during the premiere of a blockbuster in Hollywood. A friend's cousin from her time in Los Angeles had been in it (a very minor role), and Juan had been the movies male co-star.

"Good afternoon," he nods to them, before following the brunette. Star-struck (she's not going to lie—she loved the movie), Maeve doesn't change the smile plastered on her face. The brunette is younger than Juan (he's two years older than Maeve, she believes), but there's an uncanny resemblance… Maybe a relative? Sister? Maeve isn't enough of a fangirl to know by heart.

(She can, however, google it.)

Google gives her a response while Juan stops next to the brunette. Maeve doesn't watch them, only notices from the corner of her eye that she's looking at the mannequins. She compares the photo from google and is confident: Gabby Santiago, nineteen years old, model and philanthropist—the child of the artistic Santiago family, and younger sister to Hollywood A-lister Juan Santiago. She's also deaf and mute—that's where the philanthropy part comes in—meaning Maeve, if she wants to be a decent person (and of course, she is) can't just start chatting. Sign language isn't a language she knows… Especially not ISL.

Anna raises her eyebrows at Maeve when their glazes meet—at first, Maeve doesn't get why, but of course. The Boyfriend Selection™. Juan Santiago is definitely on the list that she hasn't started writing yet.

"Rose Cotillion too?" Anna asks.

Juan turns around, touches his sister's shoulder gently and signs something to her. Note to self—learn sign language. Gabby briefly fiddles with her hands, before making eye contact again with a happy, friendly smile.

(That's good, isn't it?)

"My sister here, yes. She's looking for a dress."

"Same," Maeve blurts. Is this where she just introduces herself? Or is Anna going to do it? She's has do this well—Juan is definitely on her Boyfriend Selection™ and she cannot, under any circumstances, mess this up.

(Also, even if she doesn't end up choosing Juan in this all, she definitely does not mind being friends with him.)

"Aha."

Silence, for just a moment before Maeve realises that, of course, she's excluding Gabby from the conversation and god knows—she might just be the key to getting Juan's number (not that she couldn't just ask Anna to pull some string but… that feels off). Therefore, she pulls out her phone (as anti-social as it is) and begins writing a note to hand to Gabby.

Hey! I'm Maeve and also going to the Rose Cotillion for the first time. : ) I'm new to Illéa (ish, just haven't been here in ages) and wanted to hear about what's going on etc. Are you looking forward to the ball?

She drops the portfolio (she has not found a good dress), and walks straightforward (she is Gemma Maeve Schreave after all) to Gabby. Juan's not paying attention in the moment (he's looking at the mirror) and she gentle touches her on her shoulder. Gabby, surprised, turns around and reads the message on her phone.

Gabby Santiago begins typing an answer. Hi! I'm Gabby! Yeah, I'm really excited about it! My brothers (the guy next to me is one of them) have been all moody because of the Bachelor's Brunch and me wanting to go to the ball with someone ELSE and not them…

Right—the Bachelor's Brunch. Maeve totally doesn't take long to remember what that is (she's thinking hard on that one for a moment) before she remembers. A brunch (duh) where the debutantes of the ball meet and invite their partners. She's been to the International Debutante Ball in New York, but of course, forgot everything by now.

I totally forgot about that _ Isn't it tradition to first ask relatives though? (I've only been to a ball in NY so idk)

Gabby tilts her head, and shakes it. Not in Illéa, I think. That'd be weird either way.

That is good—Maeve's closest relative in her age (male or female) is Noah, and she does not intend to spend the evening with him. Even though the ball itself might be boring, she doesn't want to spend it in Noah's presence.

I see. Do you have a dress ready?

Again, Gabby shakes her head, and begins typing. Nah, that's why I'm here.

Maeve just gets around to reading the message when Juan moves his attention to them. He's quite surprised, but again signs to Gabby something. This time, he's nice enough to speak too. "Made a new friend?"

"I'm Maeve. Maeve Schreave," Maeve replies, simultaneous to Gabby's enthusiastic signing.

Gosh, it's been ages since she didn't understand a language. That in the place meant to be her home…

"Juan-Pablo Santiago," Juan replies. Of course, Maeve knows that. She smiles at her, and while his smile is mesmerising, it's actually the bowtie that maintains her attention. The Starry Night by Van Gogh, she recognises on its design. She smiles at it, remembering the time her mother took her to see the painting in New York. It had been when she was visiting New York for the International Debutante Ball.

(Sweet, sweet memories.)

She'll rock the Rose Cotillion too, of course. Make another new sweet, sweet memories, here in Illéa, her new-old home.

"Nice to meet you," Maeve replies.

"So, you're going to the Rose Cotillion too?" Juan concludes. He hands Gabby one of the portfolios of dresses. Gabby smiles, answers his gesture and once again, Maeve wishes she would have prioritised learning sign languages.

"Yes," Maeve nods. "I haven't been in Illéa for years, and my parents want to introduce me to society here. Have you been to the Rose Cotillion?"

"Uhm... once or twice," Juan replies, "It's not that much my type and my people, but I've gone to one two years ago for research purposes."

"Huh? How come?" Maeve blurts without thinking. Of course—movies. Juan starred in a movie featuring high society not too long ago.

"Haven't you known? I am at the edge of the difficult, and rare science that tries to understand the mystery of debutante balls," he replies and turns away. Sarcasm, huh?

Maeve smiles either way—she knows what movie he's talking about. "Yes, of course."

"I've been to related events—Bachelor's Brunch and after party—but I didn't accompany anyone." It almost feels like a warning, Maeve thinks, but decides not to think of it. What matters is that the first designer Anna dragged her to led to her meeting Juan Santiago.

"Gabby however," she goes on, "is obsessed with the idea of going to the Rose Cotillion and all the other balls. She says, she wants to meet people in power—for her charity work—but honestly, I'm pretty sure she's also in for the pretty dresses."

"She looks beautiful. I'm sure she'll steal the show."

Juan chuckles—for the first time since he's arrived here. "You bet that…" He looks into the mirror, again, and turns around to look Gabby. "There's no way I'm letting her go to that Brunch herself."

"She can go with me, if you're concerned."

"I remember going to that once… There was that girl… Uhm… Sausage van Well—no, that's not her name…"

Maeve, desperate to look friendly and calm, tries to not laugh. Sausage? What? She's not sure who this is (although, van Well is the surname of the prime minister), she feels a bit sad for that person.

"It's… it's her name in a group chat I was in," Juan apologises. "Ridiculous, I know, but I don't remember her name."

"van Well, as in the prime minister?" Maeve suggests.

"Yeah, I think she's his daughter."

"Vienna van Well, then?" Maeve goes on. "Vienna… In German, they call a type of sausage 'Viennese sausage', I think. Maybe it's from there?"

Juan looks up to her, impressed. Maeve wants to smile proudly. She's impressing him; that's great! "You sure do know a lot," he says.

"Culture and travelling is a hobby of mine."

"Have you been to Spain?"

"Si." Yes. Of course, Maeve has to brag. "I studied there for a year, when I was fourteen. A friend who I met during my time in Los Angeles moved there, and I took the chance to have someone to stay with."

Juan smiles amused. "That's nice," he says, in Spanish. "My family's from there."

Fortunately, Maeve is able to stop herself from repeating 'I know'. Again, she tells herself, she's no fangirl but she knows who Juan Santiago is. You're Gemma Maeve Schreave, girl, he should be fawning over you, not vice-versa.

"That's neat. I only got Los Angeles and Hong Kong. And Illéa, I guess."

(She loves Los Angeles. She loves Hong Kong. She can't admit that of course.)

"Los Angeles isn't a too bad place," Juan replies. Is there a glimmer of a grin in his face?

"Planning to go back?" Maeve asks. She pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I don't know… for a movie, or so?"

Juan shakes his head. "I'm considering an offer for a TV show they want to film here in Illéa, actually. To be closer to my family again."

"That's sweet."

"Isn't that why you're here?"

"Hm?"

"Your surname is Schreave, isn't it? There's only one Schreave family in Illéa. Your cousin mentioned that you came back."

Maeve can't hide this frown. "Oh, Noah did? Do you know him?"

(Damn it, Noah. Did you corrupt all the handsome guys?)

"Acquaintances—you can't miss him if you go anywhere to socialise, I'm afraid." Juan replies. He turns to a present assistant of the designer. Maeve previously spoke to her about things she considered, but (against Anna's preference), she doesn't plan to just buy every dress that she likes—she wants to see the whole range first. Then buy one. "Excuse me, when is the new collection out?"

The assistant appears to know what he's talking about. Maeve doesn't. "Early in January. Would you like an invite to the debut, Mr Santiago?"

"Absolutely," Juan replies. "Are you going?" he asks Maeve while the assistant makes a note.

Before Maeve is able to respond, she notices Anna opening something on her tablet and within seconds giving her a soft nod. Is she implying that if she'd like to she could? The assistant, probably having noticed her, looks up. "Would you like an invitation too, Miss Schreave?"

"Sure," Maeve finds herself answering. "Why not?"

The assistant notes it down, and Anna hands her a business card. "All details to me, please."

"Will do," the assistant nods. "Miss Schreave, is there anything else you'd like to see?"

"Uh," Maeve glances to Anna again, pleading for help. Does she want anything else? Anna had asked for all other portfolio and led her through the clothes they had here in the designer's boutique. Besides 'outfit for Rose Cotillion and Noah's birthday', she has no real idea what she was even looking for!

"That's all, I think," Anna replies for her.

Maeve hesitates for a moment, before she understands the silence—they're waiting for her to confirm. Therefore, she quickly nods and smiles. So, they're leaving, she concludes. Too bad—she'd love to talk to Juan a bit more—he just seemed to warm up!

She can't ask him for his number though—that looks too fangirl-y. Instead, she rises and grabs her hand bag, signs on the bill that the assistant prints for her—Gemma Maeve Schreave, not Maeve Daulton like she would have just days before—and waves a good bye to Gabby. She smiles and waves back. Juan nods.

Friend number one—made. Check.

Boyfriend Selection™ Suitor number one—found. Check.

She follows Anna to the car whose back is awfully packed with bags. How many outfits did Anna make her chose? This has to be enough to dress a whole school class. She trembles briefly, when she sits down in the back of the car, Anna following. The driver gives them a friendly nod, follows and starts driving.

Maeve closes her eyes, thinks of the kids she had been with every single day for the past year—she gulps. What is there she can do? Society won't change just because Gemma Maeve Schreave donates a few billions. If she wanted to change the world for real, there would be so many more things she'd need to do.

You're Gemma Maeve Schreave. You don't care about peasants.

"Where's next?" she therefore asks.

"Oscar de la Renta." Great. Sounds expensive.

Her voice is lethargic. "Who's that?"

"He dressed Jacqueline Kennedy."

"Ah, I see."

"First lady of the States. She married the one that got shot—what's his name again? KFC? Why would you go by a nickname that's used by a fast food chain?"

"Kennedy," Maeve corrects her. She spent enough time in the States to know.

"Well, yeah—" Anna evidently doesn't care. "—that's where we're going next. Are you sure you don't just want to order the dresses? That way, nobody will take a design before you—you won't have to deal with something similar. The brands can warn them, and you—if that's the case."

"Nah, it's fine…" She's Gemma Maeve Schreave. It'll be fine. It has to be.

Maeve pulls out her phone—a clear sign that she's not interested in this conversation anymore. She'll go along, buy dresses and do whatever's going on. She opens up her phone and opens Instagram, mindlessly. She scrolls through her feed, clicks on and sighs.

An ad of an Illéan brand pops up—of course, high end (Instagram knows her) and expensive—featuring Gabby Santiago. Right, Maeve thinks. She probably wants to keep up contact with her. Friends and all. She opens her Instagram and messages her, more or less on the same autopilot she opened Instagram.

Hey, it's Maeve :) Just wanted to say hi!

Does it look too early? No, if anything comes up, she can just explain that she thought she'd forget it—gosh, Maeve's been the new one all the time; she'll be fine. Nobody will question it. They have better—no, other—things to do.

Gabby, fortunately, responds quickly. Hi! Awesome to meet you, Maeve! Did you choose a dress in the end?

Before she can begin a reply, Anna speaks up. "Oh, and, one more thing, Maevy. Please don't turn into a stereotypical movie girl that only has eyes for guys. There's more to life than guys—even with your inheritance. You wouldn't ever pass the Bechdel test right now."

"The what?" Maeve struggles to care. What is that inheritance when there

"Ask your mother. Or grandmother. They'll give you a speech." Anna pauses. "Actually, invite me and bring coffee and food."

"Okay…" Maeve types her answer.

(Gemma Maeve Schreave deletes it twice, until writing something vague enough.)


Chapter Recap:

Following her meeting with Anna to discuss the terms of her inheritance, she is confronted with the lack of style, as Anna puts it. They visit one of Daphne's favourite designers, where Maeve struggles to accept Anna's lack of problems with the wealthy spending so much money on clothes. They meet Gabby and Juan Santiago. Happy to find the first Selected for her Selection, Maeve befriends with Gabby over their common attendance to the Rose Cotillion and speaks to Juan, her first self-declared Selected. However, on the way to their next stop, she starts to ponder over the price of that all.

Next Chapter Teaser: Maeve needs a lawyer


Author's Note

Pocket, review~ :P

We meet the second introduced Selected, Juan-Pablo Santiago by Abizeau, and his younger sister, Gabby Santiago. Check out the chapter's aesthetic on Pinterest!

As for Gabby, I have no experience writing deaf/mute characters, nor do I know anyone in real life, so I completely had to rely on internet guides. I hope I was able to portray things more or less correct, but I would love to have feedback on that!

I hope to have introduced all Selected by Chapter 09 (the Rose Cotillion), but the first chapters had been planned before I got any OCs, so I'm trying to fit some cast members in for now. The SYOC remains open until Dec 31, but pls get your forms in so I can write ahead. :) :) Meanwhile, upon the prompt of the Discord, I have added halloween aesthetics for most major characters-check out Pinterest!

Let me know what you think of Juan, Gabby, and Maeve's feelings on price tags!

See you soon!