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Celeste Newsome – Confessions – The One
 
I have to admit, I didn’t expect myself to end up sitting there, in America’s room, spilling out my deepest darkest secrets. Like, seriously. Who was I? Three?
 
“Um, guys. Are we sure we want to do this?” Elise asks in that small voice of hers. Kriss was the one who started it. She was the one who decided we go up and comfort her, so… how was I supposed to answer that question?
 
“Yes! America needs us.” Kriss says, a smile glued to her face.
 
“That sounds so cliché.” I mutter, playing with a lock of dark hair. I don’t even really know why I agreed to do this, but somehow, my brain screamed, go comfort America! So here I am.
 
We walk up to her door, and I secretly hoped that she wouldn’t be a sobbing tear-stained mess. One of the maids opens the door and starts to say something that sounds like, “I’m sorry, but Lady America doesn’t want to be seen right now.” But, I couldn’t hear the whole thing because Kriss cut her off.
 
“Well, this is important. We need to talk to her.” Kriss says cheerfully. I resist the urge to scowl over at her. That girl has too much energy. Twenty-four freaking seven.  And the truth was, we didn’t need to see her, but we should because heaven forbid the world will end if we don’t.
 
I roll my eyes. “Just let us in.” The maid looks annoyed for a fraction of a second before saying, “Hang on a minute, ladies.” I cross my arms. I hear some scuffling and the low murmur of voices before the door opens again. “Please come inside.”
 
I roll my eyes and mutter something but Kriss gives me a look, and I sigh deeply. “Fine.” Kriss walks in, smiling as always. Elise walks in afterward and then I’m alone in the hallway. I could just make a run for it. It was unladylike, but no one was watching. I balled my hands into fists, didn’t even bother to smile, and walked in.
 
America looks so surprised that I almost laugh. Almost.
 
“What are you guys doing here?” Her maids jump to their feet and leave the room. I could swear one of them was reading. They were supposed to be cleaning.
 
“We came to talk.” Kriss says, and sits on America’s bed, because God forbid we should make ourselves at home. But then Elise follows, and I didn’t want to be that awkward one standing so I sit down too.
 
“About?” America asks, her eyes rimmed with red. She’s been crying. I know what that felt like.
 
“Well, first off…” Kriss talks about her feelings and stuff and I sit here awkwardly, picking at the loose strings off of her bed. It was when Elise started talking that I actually started listening.  She was talking about how she never felt like she had power over anything because of her parents and such. It was then that I spoke up.
 
“I know how you feel.” I say. All three of their heads turn to me. Confusion edges their faces. Kriss’ smile is gone for once. “What? Why are you looking at me like I just murdered someone?” I ask. Kriss’ smile returns. “No, no. Continue.”
 
I take a deep breath. “I know how you feel. My model career won’t last forever, and then what will happen then? My parents force me, too.” I say. Elise smiles at me a little. “Thanks,” she says.
 
I nod and avert my eyes back to the bed. But then, a warm hand grabs my hand. America’s. “Thanks. Thanks to all of you.” She gives us a weak smile, and I smile back. Whoa. Where’d that come from?
 
When we finally left that afternoon, I kept thinking about how grateful America looked. How I felt when I was confessing. I didn’t expect it to feel as weird as it did. It felt kind of good, actually. And that smile… I haven’t smiled in forever. This little friendship we’ve got… if a friendship at all… I kind of hope it lasts. Because for once, I didn’t feel alone. I don’t know why I took so long to realize that there are people willing to listen.





Just wanted to say thank you for reading! This is my fifth Selection fanfiction and I would love to do more! Make sure that all the credit goes to Kiera Cass, the author of the Selection Series. She made the story, and I just added to it. Also, if anyone wants me to do another, please comment a character, book, and scene! Thanks again for reading! It means a lot. Also, if any of you have any suggestions and such, PLEASE comment. I would love feedback! Thanks! ;)

 
  Celeste Newsome – First Rebel Attack – The Selection 
 
God, why did they have to wake me up so early? And for what? Was this part of their so-called amazing hospitality? Sure. My maids are rushing around, knocking over papers and some of my makeup. Eve was shaking my shoulder. My vision was blurry.
 
“What the h—“I start.
 
“You have to get up, Miss. There’s been an attack.” Eve explains. I can see the fear in her eyes. All the same, I almost scream.
 
What? Wasn’t the castle more rebel-proof than any other house? How can the rebels get in every single time? It was too complicated for my brain to handle.
 
I groggily sit up. I was in no hurry. But my maid practically shoves me out of bed. “Come on. We have to get you to the safe room.”
 
I stand, and put on a pair of heels from the day before. “Are you sure you—“I shush Eve with a hand. “Find me an outfit.”
My maid doesn’t protest any more. Who could blame me for wanting to be presentable? She goes to my closet, and holds up a small red blouse.  It would have to do. Eve and Stella help me into it, practically shoving it on me. Meanwhile, Angela was pacing impatiently and watching the dress up with a disappointed look on her face. She can think what she wants.
 
Five minutes later, a cement path in the castle looms in front of me. Was I stupid because I never noticed this? Or was it something no one knew was there until it was simply there? I couldn’t worry about that now. Right now I was worrying about getting down the steep stairs without falling and cracking my head open.
 
Once down there, Sylvia let loose an obvious sigh. King Clarkson and Queen Amberley were nowhere to be seen. They were probably in an even safer safe house. Psh. I saw His Highness in the corner talking softly to Lady America. It’s always Lady America.
 
Sylvia rushes up to me and starts a long, probably practiced speech about how what I did was a risk and how the Royal Family was scared and blah, blah, blah. I wasn’t listening. I did nod my head every few moments to pretend like I was listening. When she was done talking, I sit down near some of the other girls. Lady Tuesday, I think it was speaking first.
 
“You had time to change? My maids kicked me out before I could.” She said. I could see she was wearing slippers and a bathrobe. “Well, I have certain ways to get people to do what I want them to.” I say and wink at her. She frowned, and turned to Lady Fiona, whispering in her ear.
 
From where I was sitting, I could see clearly Lady America deep in conversation with the Prince, and not showing any sign of stopping. I had the urge to know what they were talking about. The Prince had been there for at least five minutes. How was it that she was more interesting than me?
 
Finally, the Prince left and started to make his way towards me. Best for last, right? Right.
 
“My Lady Celeste are you alright? You look frazzled.” Maxon said. Of course I looked frazzled; I was awakened at two in the morning. Instead I smile, “Oh no, Your Majesty. I am perfectly alright thank you.”
 
“I’m glad.” His Highness smiles that charming smile at me. I decide to go for it. “Why are you always around America?”
 
His Highness’ smile faltered, but quickly switched back to his normal, easy smile. I caught him. “I guess I have been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t I?” He said, almost to himself. “I’ll be sure to visit you soon. How about tomorrow?”
 
I shot him a smile. “Of course. My door will be open.”
 
He smiled. “Okay, well, I have to report to some of the other girls, but I do wish you the best of safety.”
 
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Finally, a voice came on the intercom and told everyone the threat was gone. I sighed and stood up, stretching and groaning. I had been sitting down forever.
 
I would walk out of this room with confidence. I had a date with the Prince. And that America wasn’t going to ruin it for me.
 
 
 
 
Just wanted to say thank you for reading! This is my fourth Selection fanfiction and I would love to do more! Make sure that all the credit goes to Kiera Cass, the author of the Selection Series. She made the story, and I just added to it. Also, if anyone wants me to do another, please comment a character, book, and scene! Thanks again for reading! It means a lot. Also, if any of you have any suggestions and such, PLEASE comment. I would love feedback! Thanks! ;P
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Elise Whisks - The Selection - First Date

I sat on my bed, wringing my hands, nervous. I’d been on dates before. So why was I scared? It was two weeks into the competition. Some girls had already been cut. I couldn’t help but feel relieved I wasn’t going home. Maybe that’s why this felt different than all the other arranged dates my parents set me up with.
 
Prince Maxon came up to me after breakfast that morning. “Would you allow me the pleasure of taking you on a date tonight?"
 
Who was I to refuse? He was a prince. He was the reason many girls were housed here.
 
“Of course.” I replied, trying to conceal a blush. So here I am, in my dark pink evening dress. My maids really did a good job with my dresses. They never made one I didn’t like.
 
Maybe the reason for my nerves was Lady America. She’d seemed to catch Prince Maxon’s eye from the very beginning. In some ways, I was jealous of her. What could she have that the others didn’t? To be quite honest, I thought she was a bit annoying and made it quite obvious that she didn’t want to be there. Who wouldn’t? I mean, she was the one who signed up for the selection in the first place. Or was there something I was missing?
 
My thoughts were cut off by a soft knock on the door. My heart sped up. My maid, Laina, went to open the door for the stranger who wasn’t a stranger any more. Or wouldn’t be after tonight.
 
Maxon smiled when he saw me. He held out his arm for me to take. “How are you, my dear?” He asked me quietly as he led me down the hallway towards the stairs. I smiled at the endearment. Some thought it was too childish, but I liked it just fine. At least I knew he wasn’t a robot.
 
“Good. How are you?” I replied as politely and as steadily as I could. I wondered if he could hear my heart beating loudly in my chest.
 
“I’m well, thank you. Now, is there something bothering you? You seem very distressed.” He replied. So he did notice. That was a good thing … and a bad thing. How was I supposed to respond?
 
“Nothing, Your Majesty.” I said quickly and pasted a smile on my face, praying to God it looked realistic. He didn’t see through me like I’d hoped.
 
“Are you nervous?” He asked and wiggled his eyebrows in surprise. I laughed at the ridiculous gesture and he smiled again.
 
“A little.” I admit, this time not fast enough to hide my blush. If anything, his smile grows wider.
 
“Well, let’s change that, my dear. Where would you like to go? The gardens, the ballroom, the roof, the theater. You name it, and we’re there.”
 
Hmmm. I didn’t think I’d ever made a decision this hard in my life. There was one thing, though, that I absolutely needed at the moment.
 
“Ummm…you don’t happen to have coffee being made this late, would you? I get so tired.” I said and as if on cue, I yawned. Right in front of the prince. How big of an embarrassment was I? So much for everything my parents taught me. If they could see me right now … they probably wouldn’t feed me for a few days.
 
But the Prince just laughed. “Are you saying I’m boring?” He asked. It was a perfectly legit question, but stupid me, I didn’t answer. I really thought that I was better than this, and that I could prove to Maxon that I was a quiet, sweet girl who would do well as a queen. So much for that. That option pretty much flew out the window as soon as he knocked on my door.
 
I shook myself out of my daydream as the Prince spoke again. “Yes, I can get us coffee. Would you mind a movie as well?”
 
“Of course not! What would we watch?” I replied, ecstatic. I loved movies.
 
“Whatever you want to watch. What genre do you typically enjoy?” He asked me. Hmm. That was probably one of the hardest things I’ve had to answer.
 
“I like romance. And action. And mystery.” I replied, trying to narrow it down to my favorites out of all the options.
 
His Highness laughs again. I try to hide my blush, but I was pretty sure I didn’t hide it as well as I probably should.
 
We stopped in front of the kitchens where he led me inside. I was slightly surprised to find that it was strangely empty. That made me wonder. How early did the maids and chefs have to get up to carry out their jobs? I was even more startled when Maxon walked up to the cupboards and started pulling out various ingredients. Does His Highness cook? How many things did any of us actually know about Prince Maxon Schreave? Did he have another personality apart from the one he uses on the Report?
 
Sooner than I knew it, I could smell the delicious scent of coffee. Not a lot of people liked coffee these days. I was one of the few that did. I watch Maxon’s fingers as he pulls down two coffee mugs and starts to pour the coffee into them. He has such beautiful hands.
 
“Ready?” He asked me with a curious look at me and I swiftly lowered my eyes to the ground. I nod, careful to avoid his eyes or I would start blushing again.
 
We head toward the theater, a larger room on the inside than it looked from the outside. I let out a loud gasp as soon as we walked in the room. Maxon laughs at my outburst and I can’t help but smile. This room is seriously the coolest thing I’d seen in my life. Rows and rows of plush chairs filled the room with a screen at least twenty times the size of my T.V. filling up the entire wall.
 
“Wow!” I gushed.
 
“It’s pretty extravagant, isn’t it?” He replies with a smile. Man, he was really different from what I’d seen on the Report.
 
We decided to watch Pitch Perfect, one of my favorite movies of all time. That was saying something considering my history. Surprisingly, the prince seemed pretty into the movie. Occasionally he would tap his foot and bob his head to the beat. It was fairly amusing but I had to resist the urge to laugh at him. It was unladylike. In the meanwhile, I had drained my coffee and was very much awake.
 
After the movie, which went by too quickly in my opinion, His Highness took me by the arm and led me back to my room. I tried to walk slowly to make this night last longer. But eventually, all good things have to end.
 
We stop in front of my door and the prince opens it for me. I smile at him as I go back into the room. The room was beautiful, but I wanted to go back to the theater. I wanted to spend more time with Prince Maxon Schreave.
 
“I hope you enjoyed this evening.” He asks me, a hint of question in his voice.
 
“Did I ever!” I reply excited and he smiles,
 
“Well, I hope you have wonderful evening.” At that, he leaned down and brushed his lips against my cheek. My heart fills with joy and warmth. I’d been kissed by many boys back from in my province, but none were from a prince. I felt very accomplished. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t like me. I shoot him one last award-winning smile and close the door. Laina greets me.
 
“Did you have a nice evening, miss?” Laina asks me.
 
“Yes.” I breathe, still in shock from the kiss.
 
 I suddenly felt very tired. And as I pulled the covers over my head and lay my head back on the soft pillows, all I could think about was what had happened tonight. And I wished more than anything that it would happen again.


I hope you guys enjoyed this! Please be aware that the credit from this fanfiction should go to Kiera Cass, the author of the Selection series. I'd love to hear suggestions and requests! Please comment below!! Remember to include the character, book, and scene! Thanks for reading!

Celeste Newsome – The Selection – Life before the Selection
 
I’m not good enough. This is the first thought that runs through my mind as I look at the latest Lollipop model magazine. I look gorgeous, as always.  But if it was perfect, why was I sitting here waiting for the criticism?
 
There really was no point. Nothing I ever did was good enough. But this was what kept our family going. I knew eventually my boss would kick me out. I had 5 years of modeling left at the maximum. They got rid of clients as soon as there was any question about our style. By style they really meant bodies, and sexiness. Ugh. I’m so over this.
 
Don’t get me wrong, I adored modeling. But being a model has changed me significantly. I’ve sent girls home crying before. But to be honest, they brought it upon themselves. I don’t love being mean, but it’s not like my parents would care. Many times I’ve considered asking my parents about it, but they wouldn’t understand. I know I should just let it go. I was beautiful, and I was like my parents. Meaning I was virtually, physically, socially, etc. attractive and charming. I asked my parents about why girls were so mean to me.
 
“I’ve been wondering if I should move on to another profession. Modeling’s changed me in a way that I don’t like. People call me horrible, terrible things,” I said. I know I sounded desperate. But I’d had enough.  But of course, the conversation ended the way it always does.
 
“Honey, think about this. This would mean giving up your dream. It shouldn’t matter what other people think of you.” My mother says and my dad nods his head in agreement. I wouldn’t be giving up my dream, Mom, I’d be giving up on yours. That was the thing with Two’s. No one cared about anyone other than themselves. Which was true for me, too, in a way.  I’d always assumed this was because we had enough to keep us going, and we were just one step away from royalty and there was really no need to worry about the care of others. There was always food on the table, and no one had to worry about jobs, like the Fives, Sixes, Sevens, and even the rare Eights.
 
“I love modeling, Mom. But sometimes things have to be done. I’ll have to give it a break anyway when I make it into the Selection.” I replied, losing my patience. All of my life was spent with my parents teaching me how to stand up straight, and how to respond to the haters and the people who were jealous. I like the look on people’s faces when I stood them up. It made me happy that I had good comebacks.
 
My mom sighs loudly. That was her thing, her hint that normally shuts me up, but I would have no more of the pain when people called me a slut. Dad leans over and whispers in Mom’s ear. I hate it when they do that. No doubt they’re talking about me like I’m not sitting across from them. Mom starts nodding in agreement at whatever Dad must be saying.
 
“Sweetheart, perhaps you’ll reconsider. Maybe you won’t make it into the Selection.” My father said, sympathetically.
 
“Are you saying you don’t think I’m good enough?” I asked in a shrill, high-pitched tone.
 
“It’s not—“my mom tries, but I interrupt.
 
“It is, isn’t it?” I yell. “I’m not good enough for the crown prince. I can’t do this, I can’t do that. Bull.” I stand up and storm out of the room, leaving my plate untouched. I wasn’t hungry. Not anymore.
 
Locked in my bedroom, I decided to finish the application. I would make it.
 
I’d always admired Prince Maxon Schreave from afar. I admired his silent power and control. I admired his confidence. I even admired the way he spoke. Signing up for the Selection was my idea, and nothing my parents said or did would stop me.
 
Sooner than thought possible, I was standing in a long line of hopefuls, waiting to get my picture taken. My mom stood confident behind me, shoulders straight, and eyes straight in front of her. I was exhausted. I got up at 6 in the morning and there was still a long line of people. I could feel my mother’s stiff fingers straightening me. Give me a break, I thought internally.
 
Finally, after what seemed like forever, I walked into the building. I handed the woman standing at the door my application, and once she seemed satisfied, she waved me in. I sat in a chair, my face aimed at a camera. I flipped my hair, and shot the camera one of my award-winning smiles. I would not go unnoticed.
 
 
It was the night the Selected were announced. My heart was beating loudly in my chest. I had to be one of the ones chosen. Gavril gave his intro speech. In my opinion, Gavril always seems a little too happy to the point where it’s annoying. But I would have to get acquainted with him soon. Once the speech was over, Prince Maxon came into view in a little square at the top left hand corner of the screen. My heart swelled. This was it.
 
When they called my name, I didn’t freak out and jump around like most of the girls where probably doing. I stared at my picture and shook my head. It looked too fake. But Maxon was beaming, and I allowed myself a small smile. My dad patted me on the back and my mom smiled at me. They could be supportive if they wanted to.
 
Here I was, one of the Selected. And I was headed to the airport in my low-cut shirt, tight skirt, and stilettos. I was determined to win His Highness’s heart. And the crown. I would do it. I would become Queen.
 
 
 
 
 
Just wanted to say thank you for reading! This is my third Selection fanfiction and I would love to do more! Make sure that all the credit goes to Kiera Cass, the author of the Selection Series. She made the story, and I just added to it. Also, if anyone wants me to do another, please comment a character, book, and scene! Thanks again for reading! It means a lot. Also, if any of you have any suggestions and such, PLEASE comment. I would love feedback! Thanks! ;)Read more (119 lines)Show less
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