One hundred girls after the heart of one prince and one crown . The competition of a lifetime.
DISCLAIMER: This book is inspired by "The selection series" by Kiera Cass. This is just the book with a bit of romance and k-pop idols and obviously, Kang...
" I even managed to find a matching top while I was at it!".
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(Please, I tried so hard to find a skirt alone but couldn't so bear with me and accept this two piece. Just imagine there being no sparkles on the top)
"Hwang Yeji, how on earth did you get this!?" Jisoo yells while holding the fabric delicately in her hands as if it would disintegrate if she gripped it any tighter.
I on the other hand was simply in shock. This was probably the most beautiful skirt I've ever seen in my life. The sun hit each rock perfectly , allowing it to twinkle with every little movement it makes.
Imagine wearing that while in the sun. I'd be glistening.
Wearing such a beautiful piece of clothing feels illegal. I feel like the guards need to drag me out for this. Do I need a permit to put this on?
A part of me feel like I should pay a fine for looking at such a marvellous set without permission.
"It's pretty, isn't it!," she says while spreading the masterpiece out on the bed.
"I'm surprised this was still untouched. I found this in the back of the clothing storage where they keep all the extra dresses and shoes. This lovely thing was still in its packaging squeezed all the way in the very back. Quite the lucky maid, aren't I?," she praises herself while flipping her ponytail over her shoulder.
Lucky was an understatement, homegirl hit the jackpot.
"Alright let's get you ready!", she squeals while dragging me up, snapping me out of my trance in the process.
"I must say madam, this colour fits your skin tone perfectly. It's like you and this skirt were ment to be," Jisoo compliments.
I look at my (s/c) skin proudly and smile at her words.
It's always nice when someone can appreciate the beauty of your skin color.
Jisoo wrestles me out of my robe and goes to grab the knee long "undergarments" that are stored in the drawer.
Before she could, I grab her hand and look at her in her eyes, silently pleading for her to not make me wear it. The obnoxious piece of clothing looks uncomfortable and ridiculously itchy. I don't know why females here would torture themselves and wear it.
We have a mini staring contest before she huffs and rummages through my bag before tossing me one of my panties from home.
