If America Wasn't Selected: A Selection Fanfic

Chapter Twenty: Maxon

All during the wedding reception, which lasted for six hours, I wanted to curl up and go to bed.

"Maxon!" Celeste called. She grabbed me by the waist and kissed me. "I love you."

She has been doing that forever, I thought, but I smiled anyways. "I love you too."

For the first hour of the reception, Gavril Fadaye had been showing the wedding ceremony on TV to all the citizens of Illéa. Now, he was just taping the reception, people dancing and having a good time. All these videos would end up on TV tomorrow.

Why couldn't I just have a minor wedding and a small reception? I groaned and picked up another bowl of creme brûlée and began to dig in.

Gavril walked up to me with a microphone in his hand and a band of cameramen following behind him. "King Maxon!" he exclaimed proudly. "Congratulations on your marriage!"

Around my mouth was splattered with creme brûlée, so I wiped my face and then said, "Thanks, Gavril! I've felt better than ever."

He grinned. "Fabulous. So tell me, will you and the love of your life be going on a honeymoon?"

I nodded. "Yup! America and I will be –"

Oh.

My.

Gosh.

"I mean, Celeste and me will be going to the private little island, and we'll –"

Gavril's jaw dropped. "Who is - who is America?"

I gulped. "No one. I don't know why I said that, um, I was thinking of, um..."

Gavril ignored me and faced the cameras. "Does King Maxon have another love? Find out here, on the Report, next week!"

I nearly dropped my bowl. My heart stopped beating. I said Celeste, didn't I? I thought, but even I couldn't convince myself. I said America, and I am going to be in huge trouble.

I ran up to Gavril and pulled him away from his camera crew. "You delete that video."

He laughed. "Are you kidding me? This is gold!"

I rubbed my temples, my head pounding a mile a minute. "Gavril, please. I will do anything, just delete that video."

"Anything?"

"Yes, anything!" I said, relieved. "What do you want?"

"To show the video to Illéa tomorrow morning."

I groaned, but then remembered something. "Gavril, I am the king. You can't treat me like a dorky prince anymore, alright? You must obey my orders, or I could have you fired."

He stood there, shocked. "Maxon, let's talk somewhere private." He gestured to the camera crew to stay put as we walked to the closest empty room.

"Maxon, you don't seem happy," he said, closing the door behind him.

I scoffed. "I just got married, I'm the happiest man alive!"

Gavril shook his head. "No, Maxon. You began to stutter while saying your vows, and you took forever until you said 'I do.' Plus, you said America's name. Who is this America?"

"She w-was the musician for the Selection themed party I was going to have, but then, you know, the Rebel attacks. So then she asked if I could escort her home, and I said yes. So then on the plane ride, we kissed."

Gavril gasped. "What?"

"Yes, we kissed. And then I left her. I told her I couldn't kiss her because of Celeste. I left her sitting on the plane, and I don't even know if she got home safely." I was crying.

Gavril sympathetically smiled. "Maxon, are you in love with Celeste?"

"Yeah, I love her."

"In love."

I gulped. "I don't know what that means."

"When you like someone, you like them for a little bit. When you love someone, you like them for a while. When you're in love with someone, you will never stop loving them, or in this case, never forget them."

"I love America. I am in love with Celeste."

Gavril raised an eyebrow. "Maxon, I think it's the other way around."

Maybe it is. "What does that mean?" I asked.

"It means that you have to get on the next plane to Carolina. Now."