Une Fleure Fanée

FINALE

     Once I get on my clothes, I put on my backpack and start my feed. After I do my ponytail, I start covering my cuts. Every time, it gets marginally easier. Eventually, over three years, only a few small scars will appear.

     I apply some scar gel and cover them as I've never covered something before. If I'm going to be wearing a leo, I need to make sure not a single one goes unnoticed. Instead of ten, it takes twenty minutes. The white scars are now marginally tanner.

     Everything is done. Makeup will be at the place where we can take out my feeding tube. Nervous butterflies fill my stomach. I'm so excited and lucky to be here, despite all my illnesses.

    "Lilly, grab your stuff! We're getting ready to go!" Mom yells, and I start sprinting to the bed.

     I double-check everything in my medicine pocket in my backpack, my electronics backpack, my clothes, my hair, and makeup stuff, and I smush it all in my suitcase. It's officially time to be out in public in front of my fans with a feeding tube.

     "Do I have to?" I ask Mom as we're about to leave, pointing to the feeding tube.

     "Yes!" Mom answers, a tad exasperated as she opens the hotel door.

     I groan as I lug my suitcase around the corner to the elevator. It seemed so long yesterday when it was maybe a hundred feet. Brady, Tricia, Hannah, and Ann are in the elevator, and we manage to squeeze in.

    "I swear, we're all running late," Hannah exclaims, and we all start tapping our feet as the elevator slowly makes its way down.

     "Taking its merry old time," Tricia adds, and finally, it opens.

     Everybody, even Ms. Gianna, are in the lobby just staring at us. Some people are recording us with phones, probably for their Snapchat or Instagram, so I stick out my tongue as we all make our way to them. Immediately, I notice Sarah isn't there.

     "The elevator's so slow!" I sigh, and it breaks up the awkwardness.

     I sit next to Press, but I don't get to sit there for very long because Ms. Abby wheels out of the elevator and we all stand up in her presence like she's a judge in a courtroom. She eyes us like a hawk and silently wheels out of the hotel, the bus showing up at the front.

     Uncomfortable, I cling to Mom's side, silently grabbing my stuff. Once Ms. Abby is secured on the bus, we all make our way on the bus. I sit down next to Pressley, nervously peering at Ms. Abby every so often.

     Gia and Joanne try to bring up the mood, but it's not working. I stare outside the window. NYC is busy at all times of the day and it's only louder in the morning, with people trying to get to work. I put in my AirPods and listen to my solo music to drown it out.

     If I had my breakfast at five-thirty, then I'll have a snack at eight, lunch probably at eleven-thirty to even it out, another snack at two-thirty or three, and dinner at six or something.

     Finally, the bus is moving, and​ the competition is a mere five minutes away. You're going to lose because you ate food, Lilliana. You should have thrown up the food. Nobody would know.

     As we drive up the block, fans are lined up and I can hear the chanting through the solo music. I slowly stand up and grab all my stuff as we park right in front of the entrance. I can hear Ms. Abby's name being chanted.

     "Alright, everybody head out!" Ms. Abby shouts and the doors open.

     I'm near the end. I'm fighting back tears, hearing the yelling, but I put on my fake smile and head out there. I rush in there as fast as possible, but people are chanting in the hallways. I run to Pressley, trying to figure out how I can cover my ears with my luggage.