Atlas (A Selection/Hat Films Fanfiction)

~ Twenty Two ~

I lingered after breakfast, hoping that Alex would say or do something. He hadn't shown any sign of interest in me, and I knew I shouldn't take it so personally, but it still hurt. He didn't even look at me as he straightened his jacket and left with Ross and Prince Christoph.

With my face burning with embarrassment, I pushed open the heavy doors to the Women's Room. Silver had been very clear that our meeting this morning was mandatory, and I assumed it was to go over the new procedures for Elites.

Albany spoke up as soon as she noticed me. "Look what the cat dragged in," she said mockingly, walking over to stand behind one of the couches. She clearly still had a part of her that was afraid I might physically attack her, so she kept her distance. "You feel better, sweetheart?" she asked, feigning concern, "You don't look better, but then again. . . being sickly and diseased is kind of your thing, isn't it? Street rat."

"So quick witted," I drawled, lazily turning to face her and hanging my head to the side in a bored fashion, "How long have you been working on that one?"

I could see her jaw clench, but it surprisingly gave me no satisfaction. "What? With you hogging the princes like you do, I've had a lot of time to think."

"You don't know shit about me or what I've been doing," I snapped, "So back off."

"I know who you've been doing," she said smugly, "That's why you get so much attention from Prince Ross and Prince Alexandre."

"How dare you."

She gave a devilish smile, and I realized too late that I had walked right into her trap by not immediately denying it. "Ow," she replied, mockingly hissing between her teeth and wincing, "Seems like I struck a nerve."

I thought a full night's rest would have rejuvenated me, but I still felt exhausted - enough that I didn't have any fight in me.

"Albany," I sighed, turning to face her fully and opening up my arms, "You said it yourself. I'm an eight. And it doesn't matter what new status I've been given; I'll always be known as an eight."

Albany's eyebrows softened and she opened her mouth to say something, but I kept going.

"What I do with the princes is none of your business. None of anyone's business," I added, looking around the room, at the other girls who had stopped what they were doing to listen, "I'm not your competition. You've already beaten me. You've already won."

I took a step towards her. "Three of us here are going to be queens, and it's not going to be an eight that was put in this stupid competition for even stupider reasons," I snapped, my voice shaking, "Even if I had a chance in the beginning, I sure as hell don't now! Not after the outrage I've sparked just by existing here!!"

A sharp sadness squeezed at my chest and it wasn't from Albany's insults. When I heard it out loud, it became oppressively real to me; every word I said was correct. A part of me wished I were just sleeping around with the princes. I wouldn't feel so hurt if it were true.

I don't know when it happened, but I had started caring about the selection.

Any kind of weakness would only give Albany more ammunition, so let the anger extinguish any sadness I felt in me. "Actually, you shouldn't feel threatened by anyone here," I growled, "The only thing you should be worried about is yourself. If you have so much time on your hands, maybe you should work on not being such a vapid, moronic bitch!"

She balked, more surprised than angry or insulted. I heard everyone in the room gasp and make exclamations of shock and surprise.

I jumped as Beckii appeared at my side. "Woah, Atlas," she muttered, taking my elbow, "That's enough."