Fallout
Ground Zero
»This wasn't so bad«
Zarah Baine
This wasn't so bad. Actually, pretty damn good.
Zarah Baine had entered this airport for the first time as a Six trying to uphold an income because she just didn't want (or could) depend on her uncle and aunt's wealth. She now returned as a Three, with additional wealth in her pocket and, most of all, no issues in terms of dating Xaviour.
As she stepped out of the plane (she had travelled with the governor of Paloma in a government plane, best experience ever), camera flashes greeted her. Her uncle, behind her, nudged her to move on, but Zarah took the moment with a proud grin.
She had seen him—there, in the crowd. Smiling at her. She waved before stepping down the stairs, ignoring the reporters and their camera flashes. Step by step, careful not to fall, Zarah walked past them, into the airport and to the car that had been prepared for her. One of the palace employees was talking, but to be completely fair, she didn't listen.
Something about discussing what she was going to do know, because she maybe or maybe hadn't been ignoring her for all of the flight.
"Would you please be so kind and listen now?" the palace woman noted, when they reached the black limousine—totally not calling in all the attention—and begun their drive to Zarah's uncle's home. She looked forward to seeing her family again.
"Hm?" Zarah looked up, smiling. She couldn't help smiling. Not when she was heading home, staying low for maybe a few weeks—who was she kidding, she'd wait one week—before she and Xaviour could announce their relationship to the public.
"I would like to discuss with you your future plans. You previously worked as driver and secretary, yes?"
"Yup."
"That is not appropriate for a Three."
Yet it was only grey-zone illegal. Hypocritical royals, but whatever. "Aha."
"What are you interested in? Paloma has various, good colleges, and I'm sure any you apply to will be happy to offer you a scholarship." Yes, because staying in a palace for two months meant she was a super-academic. It wasn't like she slept through all lessons or something…
"With the Selection money, do I have enough to become a Two?" Zarah asked.
"Pardon me?" The aide asked, then hesitated. "I'm not sure about the numbers, but I can check that. I'll have someone contact you in the next days."
As much as she loved Xaviour, she wasn't going to just outrightly marry him—it'd look gold-digging, and she didn't want to risk his career.
"Is there any specific reason why you would like to become a Two?"
What a ridiculous question it was, especially given her uncle's work in politics. Zarah, though, hesitated because who knew what this aide was reporting back to the palace? "I'm interested in what Twos do. I like music, and who knows, maybe I'll make my big break, like Abby Moon?" she thus lied.
"I see." The aide made various further notes. "Would you like us to set up contact to music agencies in Paloma, or do you intend to move somewhere else?"
They had considered that. Los Angeles was a better location for a musician to work than anywhere in Paloma, but Zarah had no desire to return to Angeles—not until the Selection was over, and nobody had a reason to invite her over to the palace. Yuck.
"For now, I want to stay here, but again, I think I will tackle things slowly."
"Ma'am, we will only be able to help you right now. We aren't authorised to help you, once you've returned to your home."
Read—the palace wanted to control them now, but once they were out of the picture, they didn't give a fuck about the life they had thrown into a chaos. This was worse than sitting in these endless lessons, making sweet curtsies and flirting with a prince that had only been useful as soldier—just like every other soldier of Illéa.
Maybe Zarah was just a bit salty at the advisor and her stern, disapproving look. What did she have against leather jackets?!
"It's really not that much a concern," Zarah assured her. "I've got my ideas. I have some contacts too."
"Are you sure?" the, given the comment probably casteist, advisors frowned.
"Yes. My uncle and aunt do know a few people around."
The woman's face lit up. She was as bad as Umbridge. "Ah. Good to know. You'll be in good hands, then."
"Yes, I will."
Insert awkward pause, Zarah thought when the advisors obviously expected her to go on. Zarah, though, had no such intentions and thus proceeded with glancing out of the window, to her hometown that hadn't—thank god—changed too much in the past two months.
Xaviour had been at the airport—surely, he would follow her home? Meet her there? Or had her aunt and uncle planned a welcome party? Surely, her position as selected would have boosted her uncle's chances in politics a lot? He would want to use that, she presumed, and groaned at the thought.
"Pardon me?" the advisor inquired, which Zarah interpreted as polite people speech for 'What the fuck is it now?'.
"Everything fine. I just can't wait to see my friends," Zarah lied.
When they finally reached her home, Zarah did indeed find her uncle and aunt waiting at the door for her, alongside her little sister, evidently ready to greet her. Zarah did not miss the reporters waiting either, but she had seen these things more than once and was willing to deal with them. She put on a, faked, smile, adjusted her jacket and let the driver open the door.
The reporters maybe asked questions, but Zarah didn't even hear them.
"Hello, dear," her aunt greeted her with the kindest smile. "Welcome back home."
And as they posed for the cameras, Zarah's smile did turn into a genuine one. Between the reporters, she spotted the odd, hoodie-wearing person waving at her—just like everyone else did. This one was special though, because the hoodie was Zarah's, and the person her boyfriend.
He signalised thumbs up.
The plan had worked.
/ / /
They were ecstatic. Really ecstatic. Zarah couldn't keep a count of the newspapers.
ZARAH AND XAVIOUR CONFIRM THEIR RELATIONSHIP
After Xaviour Abel, the sweetheart of Southern Illéa's teenage population, was recently spotted alongside Lady Zarah Baine, the former Selected of Paloma, the couple officially announced their relationship through Abel's agency this morning.
Although Xaviour's fans are torn on the matter, various people applaud Lady Zarah for her quick adjustment, not only to her status as Selected, but now to being a former Selected. Lady Zarah is expected to attend the Paloma Charity Dinner tonight, and fans are hoping to spot Abel with her. Lady
Zarah has, through palace communications, confirmed that she intends to become a Two and focus on philanthropy. Baine is the niece of local Paloma politicians, a former Six and was eliminated alongside Lady Alessandra Valentino last week ago. Both are the first to leave the Selection after their first date with the Crown Prince.
To be fair, a bunch of hardcore fangirls didn't like Zarah at all, but did she care an inch about them? Not really—they were going to buy Xaviour's albums either way, and Zarah was happy with him. The news had only dropped yesterday, and social media was full of it. Nobody cared for these few haters.
"How are you doing, my dear girlfriend?" Xaviour hummed from behind her. They were together, at his home, and while the television was quietly showing some movie Zarah didn't care about, she was surfing the web.
"I'm perfectly fine," she grinned back. "Do you have clothes for tonight?"
"Yes, of course."
"Decent clothes? I don't want my plus one be thrown out."
"Do you?" Xaviour teased.
"Yeah, my aunt got me a bunch of fancy clothes when my elimination was announced. 'So you don't feel so odd back here', she said, but I swear—if I wasn't planning on politics, I'd throw them out of the window." Zarah paused. "Okay, maybe not window. Recycle or donate them, but my point being—you should see most of them."
"Did you find one you like?"
"Yes. It's black, so my dear auntie is veto-ing it. I'm twenty-two, but I still need her permission to wear things! Who cares that it looks like I'm in mourning? Who would I be mourning? My sleep because she wants me to come along to 'morning tea with friends'?"
"Morning tea with friends?" Xaviour repeated.
"Think—" Zarah imagined, "—a bunch of twos in a rose garden, with perfect, pretty china and the best tea you can find in the world. Eating biscuits and talking about Karen's new shoes."
"Yikes."
"Yes, yikes. How's your life going? How is it, not being single anymore?"
"If it wasn't for you, my agent would be pestering me about the tour we're planning. He wants me to put it alongside the route of the Queen Mother's thing, because 'it would look good, especially if you show up at her events'."
"Your agent probably wants to check them out for new talent."
"Yeah."
"Plan the tour differently?"
"Bold of you to assume I have any control over that," Xaviour deadpanned. "Be happy you aren't in the music industry?"
"You'll cope," Zarah huffed. "I wanna go into politics. That's a minefield."
"Ah, yes, the minefield of politics. We all know it."
"I'm sure as hell that Xander knows it."
Xaviour rose an eyebrow. Ever worried as he was, he probably had been jealous for months. She smiled, though, because that was something she wanted to hear—her boyfriend wanting her and her alone. Much better than being part of a thirty-five girls harem.
"What do we tell the press if they ask how we got together?" Xaviour wondered.
"What does your agent say?"
"The truth."
"Eh, maybe not." Zarah cringed. "Bullshit our way through?" She liked to think that she knew how to do that, especially given how much bullshit she heard from the good old upper castes every day.
"I'm not so sure if that's a safe approach."
"How about 'we were friends before the Selection and got into contact again, because you know how public life is and gave me a few tips how to still be myself and there were sparks'?" Zarah suggested.
"We need details."
"We aren't planning a spy operation cover story," Zarah deadpanned.
"What if the palace grows suspicious though?"
"The Selected from Angeles, last I checked, is engaged already. Half of the girls already out end up marrying gold-diggers either way. I doubt that anyone will care. They're busier keeping the Selection interesting when the prince is always working."
"Are you sure, Zare? I don't want you in danger."
"If they had any evidence to prove us being a thing earlier, then I wouldn't have been in the Selection—not for that long, at least."
"True but—"
Zarah shook her head. "Gosh, Xaviour, stop with the 'what ifs'! We'll be fine!"
"You say that that easily…"
"What are you expecting? Another revolution in the next week?"
Even if Zarah wasn't too far off with that, it all would take much longer until it would even start to affect either of them, and even if Zarah wasn't aware of the extent of it, they were going to be fine. Their fairy tale just didn't include fancy castles, ballgowns and dance lessons, but leather jackets, their freedom and love.
"I don't but—" Xaviour sighed. "I just don't want to lose you."
"Not do I. That's why I'm back here," Zarah hummed. "Everything's going to work out, Xav."
/ / /
Author's Note
Earlier update because it's Slyther's birthday, happy birthday! :)
As stated in the last chapter of Fallout, each eliminated character (except Nereida; she got a five act play, that's enough) will get a short oneshot. What this is about depends on each character; some will be set after they left the Selection, ranging from directly, to months after, to years after, while others are set during the Selection or in their past. Some of these will be set after the current chapters in Fallout, so, consider it foreshadowing.
(Thank Rosy for this all; I randomly wrote hers and now everyone gets one.)
Cover is from: pinterest. nz/ pin/ 669417932091863987/