I got a lot of positive feedback on the format of last chapter. This one is going to be very similar. Not all chapters will be, but it felt important to this chapter.

I technically have all the characters I need for the SYOC, but if you're new to the story (or you've been reading and just haven't submitted a character), you still can if you want. I don't feel like being strict about it. The new characters I have are Chloe Brynn Karlotta Hoffman, 3, by xXNewZealandMaoriXx, and Valarie Kenya Cross, 4, by Arianna RW. I also created another character(Emani Jeffers), because I felt like she would be important for another character's development. It'll make sense later . . .

Also, something kind of unrelated: A few months ago I published a story on FictionPress called Cindy the Cytoplasm. A woman who has a youtube channel called the Saturday Storytellers asked if I would like her to read it on her channel. I'm not sure I can post the link, but if you go to youtube and search "Cindy the cytoplasm" it's the first thing that comes up. I think she did a great job reading it.

Anyway . . . happy reading!

Emani

I sit in anxious anticipation in front of the TV, surrounded by at least a dozen people. Being a celebrity, it's almost impossible to be alone. Not that I'd want to be alone right now. This could be a huge moment in my life. If I get Selected, I want people around to celebrate with.

Luna

My friends and I gather in Mrs. Granite's grocery store, trying our best not to look like shady shoplifters as we gather around the TV. I'm nervous. Why am I nervous? I'm just watching TV. No big deal. Clem was right earlier, when she said the Selection was rigged. There's no way they'd chose an Eight. I tell myself this, but the butterflies in my stomach refuse to listen.

Amber

I turn the TV on. I know there'll be a lot of news unrelated to the Selection first, so I open up a book. I know I should probably "pay attention to the world around me" but right now I'd rather live in my head.

I don't know how long I read for, but I'm startled away from my book when I hear Mark Faydaye announce "and now, the moment you've all been waiting for . . . It's time to find out exactly who the lucky ladies of the Selection are!"

I pull my book to my chest with one hand, squeeze my mom's hand with my other hand, and fix my gaze on the screen in front of me.

Freya

We don't own a TV, and we live in the middle of a farm in the middle of nowhere. Lake and I have to walk almost a mile to the nearest store so we can see the TV in time to know who's Selected. I tried to convince her it wasn't worth it, but she insisted. We're a little late. We missed all of the beginning of The Report, all the non-Selection related stuff. In fact, we missed part of the beginning of the Selection related stuff, too, because the first thing I hear when we walk in the door is, "From Bonita . . . Miss Freya Galeson, Seven!"

Lake just smirks and says, "I told you so."

Chloe

I'm sitting on the floor, stretching. My parents are together on the couch, snuggled close together. It was their idea for me to enter, but I'm just as excited as they are. This is a great opportunity to strengthen Germany's and Illea's political bond, not to mention it would be an awesome experience for me.

I half-listen as names are called. There's an eight, someone Silverwood, and that famous model, Emani Jeffers. And there's a Three named Chloe Hoffman.

Wait, what?

Floretta

Whatever my feelings on the Selection, I can't help being curious about who'll be Selected. Being a maid, I'm not allowed to be part of the studio audience, but there are cameras broadcasting it live throughout the palace. The names of the selected mean next to nothing to me; I don't know who any of them are. Some of them sound vaguely familiar, like perhaps they're celebrities, but none that I really know.

But I know these names mean everything to the thousands of girls who entered. And I know that soon, they'll all be more than names to me.

Lydie

It's fairly quiet in the kitchens. I know that in the coming months, that will be a rarity. But that's okay. The louder it is, the harder it is to spot me. I feel like a puzzle for children: One of these things is not like the others. But the more "others" there are, the harder the game is. Right?

I tell myself I'm being paranoid, but I can't shake the feeling that everyone can see right through me.

Valarie

I'm not surprised when I hear my name. I mean, who wouldn't want me as Queen? Sure, I'm only a Four, but that's a minor and temporary detail. It's a bummer no one's around to congratulate me, but that's their loss. Mom and Dad may never have loved me, but soon Illea will have no choice but to adore me.

Alison

"From Bankston . . . Miss Alison Jacobs, Three!"

I scream. This has got to be the best day of my life. Ever.

Albany

I watch The Report alone. I tried to convince my family to watch it with me, but they were all too tired. I don't blame them. After twenty names that mean nothing to me, I'm about ready to give up and got to bed too. But just as I'm about to turn the TV off, I hear, "From Panama . . . Miss Albany Barnes, Four!"

I should be excited. I guess I am, a little bit. My family needs this money. But don't they need me, too?

How am I supposed to tell them about this? What should be one of the most important moments in our life, and I'm alone.

I really feel like I forgot a character . . . If I did, I'm really sorry.

Like I said, the SYOC is still sort of open . . . but if you submit a character, please make sure she's different from the ones I already have.

Please keep reviewing, they really make my day. Bye!