Truly Selected (Book One of The Next Selection Series)

Chapter 11

Instead of my hair having it's usual waves in it, my hair was straight and had volume. Jeremy had told me that this was due to the palace shampoos and conditioners being top quality. I wonder if Sam's hair would have been straight too?

My hair also looked slightly lighter, the golden blonde shimmering when light from the windows hit it. And now, my hair rested at the small of my back.

"Thank you so much!" I yelled out to Jeremy and threw my arms around him for a hug.

He chuckled to himself. "If only Prince Shane would appreciate my work like this when I cut his hair." He shook his head with a smile and directed me to where my next station was.

Walking toward the next station, which happened to be nails, I heard a scream of rage.

"You call this stylish? This is an outrage!"

And I automatically knew who was doing the yelling.

I glanced over at the girl to see that it was Heather Jume, of course, and she was practically throwing a fit over her hair. Her hair was transformed from deep brown to a light brown with darker highlights in it. I thought it looked pretty, to be honest. Obviously Heather didn't agree, and she made that pretty clear when she whipped her head to glare at me.

"What do you think you're looking at? I quickly averted my eyes and scurried over to my next station, but not before hearing her hair stylist shakily agree to dye Heather's hair to its natural color.

My nails were painted a pretty shade of light pink. Some color, but nothing to outgoing. I was happy with it. Suddenly, a camera crew stopped in front of me.

"Hello Lady Sol. Tell all of Illéa how your makeover is going." A women asked frantically and I gave a small stage smile.

"Actually, I didn't change much about me. I just cut my hair a little bit and its actually straight now. Umm, my nails are slightly pinker, but I didn't want to do to much. I'm not the too outgoing type."

"What about make up?" A man spoke up this time. I shrugged.

"I can't say, but I'd prefer it to be something more natural looking. I want as minimal make up as possible." I said bashfully.

"Are you trying to use the America Singer technique?" The woman asked and I titled my head.

"Umm, no. I don't even know what that is."

The women huffed and the crew stomped away, following her lead.

I was soon moved to the makeup station, where I got my wish of minimal, natural make up. Nude eyeshadow was placed on my eyelids as well as mascara on my lashes. Clear lip-gloss was swiped across my lips and I was rushed into a room with a vast assortment of dresses.

The dresses hanging on the racks were called day dresses, and the evening gowns were all in our rooms, according to a woman who wore a measuring tape around her neck. I slid my hand against all the dress materials, feeling how luxurious they were; even with all their different styles and textures. After five minutes of looking, I found the perfect dress. It was the most casual one there, actually. I grabbed it off of a hanger and tucked behind a curtain to change.

The dress fit perfectly. It was a pretty, slightly faded fuchsia color. On it were thick pink strap over each of my shoulders. From below my chest area to my waist was a tight belt-band that was the same color as the dress. The skirt part of the dress flowed down from just below my hips to about a little above my knees. It was simple, and yet I still felt beautiful.

A pair of small white shoes, called kitten heels, were shoved through the curtain and I took them from an outstretched hand. I slid the kitten heels on my feet and tried my best not to wobble as I walked to the nearest mirror. I really liked the way I looked right now. I actually felt beautiful.