How old are Maxon and America now? - America is 20 and Maxon is 22.
McDonald's or Wendy's? - I'm more of a Chick-fil-A person.
"We all have chapters we'd rather keep unpublished." - Downton Abbey
America assumed that Maxon would go upstairs with her but he stopped at the bottom of the steps. "Mer, I've been thinking. We can't pretend that our subjects in Illéa don't exist anymore. We have to move past our subjects in the Masons and move on to the rest of the country."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"We need to make a public appearance, in front of the whole country. I know the risk with Clarkson but we need to start taking the country back under our control."
She set her jaw and nodded. "What's the plan?" she asked.
He took her hand and led her down to a room she hadn't been in before. It was set up like the room in the palace where the Report was filmed. "We address the country, appearing as a united front. Naturally, I'll come to back to life," he winked, "and we start gaining support."
"Easy as pie," she whispered, looking at the rack of dresses a short distance away that she'd surely have to wear.
"Easy as pie," he repeated.
She turned back to him. "And how do we explain Christian?"
"The best way is to say that he's been abducted. We won't say by who but all we need is to get eyes looking for him. Trust me Ames, this will work."
She nodded slowly, looking at the cameras. A smartly dressed woman approached her with a clipboard. "My name is Lily and I'm your interim agent-slash-event-planner. I am no Silvia but I promise not to let you down. Would you like to see the dresses we have picked for you?" she asked, gesturing to the rack America had just been looking at it.
With one last look at Maxon who urged her on with his eyes, she nodded. "Let's go." She was led over to a make-up counter and seated in a leather chair. A stylist immediately started running his fingers through her hair, making a disgusted face.
"When was the last time a professional touched this?" he asked, dumbstruck.
She laughed. "Probably a couple months. It's hard to find professionals when you're running for your life."
"Well you're in good hands here," Lily promised from behind America. America smiled at Lily drug the rack toward them. "I personally like the red; it symbolizes power, you know? But your stylist there, Trevor, likes the black the best." She held the red dress and the black dress up side-by-side. "Which do you like more?"
America considered both of them and then asked, "What's Maxon wearing?"
Lily seemed taken aback by the question but smiled and nodded. "He will either by wearing the navy blue suit, white shirt, and gold tie or the black suit, light gray shirt, and black tie."
"Can I get up for a moment?" America asked. "At the palace, I was able to pick out my own outfits and decide how to do my hair, I hope you don't mind." Lily waved a hand at her, curious about what America would do next. She poked through the other dresses on the rack, and then went to the accessories table. She picked up a long necklace – a long silver chain with a bunch of silver feathers on the end – and a set of blue studs and then picked up a blue dress from the rack. "How about this?"
Lily sputtered. "Well, I don't know, we didn't consider the blue dress."
"I'll be wearing this. Sweep my hair to the side – curled of course – and do a blue smoky eye for my make-up. Maxon will wear the blue suit ensemble," she told the group of stylists that had gathered. They all seemed unsure of where to go from there so America clapped her hands. "Time is of the essence, folks." She beamed as they all immediately went to work, knowing that wherever Silvia was she had made her proud.
As she went back to her seat at the make-up counter, she looked over at Maxon and winked. He laughed, tugged his ear just to be cute, and then refocused his attention on his own group of stylists. An hour later they were dressed and almost back to looking just like their old selves.
The tech crew was bustling around as America put Maxon's cufflinks on for him. She reached up to straighten his tie and felt the silver chain beneath his pressed shirt. "There's one last thing we need to put on," she said quietly to him. His gaze narrowed as she reached inside her dress and pulled out the wedding band that she'd kept on her necklace. "United front, right?"
He nodded and slid his own necklace off. She pulled her ring off the chain and handed it to him. He slid it on her finger and then let her do the same for him. "Just don't say anything about eliminating the castes, okay?"
She laughed and smoothed her hands over his jacket, ignoring his comment as she said, "Where did they get all of these clothes?"
"I still have connections to the palace." He suddenly swept her into his arms.
"Will we ever get to go back there?" she asked. "I mean, will we ever live there again?"
She felt him shrug and sigh. "If it's still standing and in one piece, then I'll let you decide if you want to live there again. Of course, you don't have to live with me either."
She pulled back to look him in the eye. "No more secrets?" she asked.
"No more secrets." He held up his pinkie. "Pinkie promise?"
"I believe you." But she shook it anyway.
The tech crew told them to take their places as the same guys America had met in the caves came in, each taking their place behind their rightful computer. They typed in codes and strings of letters and numbers before finally nodding to the cameras.
America and Maxon tested their microphones as final adjustments were made to the lights and before they knew it, they were on air.
"People of Illéa," Maxon began in a strong voice, "I know it is a shock to see us here tonight, even more so to see me. Last you all thought, I was dead but obviously I am not." America snuck a peek at him from the corner of his eye and saw tiny beads of sweat forming at his temples and a muscle in his jaw twitching. Was he nervous? "We, that is my wife and I, would like to assure you that despite the trials we face in our country now, we are doing everything in our power to overcome those plights and regain control from this tyrant."
"We cannot do it alone, though," America broke in, recognizing her opportunity to speak. "We need your help if you want our country to succeed."
"Our son was taken from us, about two months ago," Maxon said gravely, laying on the pathos. "We have reason to believe that his abductors are strong and powerful men and very dangerous; they should not be trifled with." With a deep breath, Maxon held up a picture of Christian, one of the few they had. "This is the most recent image of our son we could find and please, if you see him, contact your closest fort or military officer."
"I know that getting our son back may seem like a selfish thing to ask of all of you but we assure you that Christian is key if we want to bring down this tyrant," America added.
Maxon nodded in agreement. "If you see him, again, please tell someone and do not fight the men with him. Citizens of Illéa, we are your sovereigns and we have not forgotten that. We have not abandoned you. Please, help us and someday we will be able to rebuild our once-great nation." With that the cameras cut out, and there was nothing more America and Maxon could do for the time being.
that's it for now folks! I am super bummed because I went to Barnes & Noble today to get the Selection Stories and they didn't have it yet! Like, seriously Barnes & Noble, I am one of your best customers...how could you let me down like that? Anyway...it's probably because of the snowstorms we've been getting here in PA every two days. I'm starting to get scared that i'll never graduate! AAAAAHHHH! But I am really stoked to watch the Olympics these next couple weeks! I won't mind having snow days then! haha. Review and write me some questions!
#goteamUSA!