Joan Ascends

Chapter 16: Remember your place

"Maybe for you. But this is what I've been dreaming of since I was a girl. This is the best-case scenario for my clone type. With luck, I can use this pilot to launch my career."

"You will," I say, softening my tone. "When they hear you sing in episode two, you'll bring the whole country to their knees. And that's without even knowing what a badass you are when you're fighting for Throwback rights."

Alison's gives me a wide smile. "That's the nicest you've ever said to me."

Lady Cleo's eyes connect with mine in my mirror. She's scowling.

"I know what goodbye sounds like, Joan," she hisses in my ear when no one's looking. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Lady C," I reply. Not tonight, at least.

~ ~ ~

Wilde has reserved a limo for each of his stars. He wants us to arrive alone and walk the red carpet one at a time in order to draw out the glamour and excitement of the evening.

I'm the last one ready, and I run as fast as my obscenely high heels will let me to the white stretch limo parked in front of Seattle Secondary's Little Theater. I climb inside and scan the sleek interior, which has a retro design straight out of the 20th century. Lights line the ceiling, giving it a romantic glow, and water and champagne chill in an icebox. The nav is already set for the Showbox.

My heart pounds and my palms grow sweaty. In a matter of minutes, I'll be standing in front of a crowd of people, some of whom would probably prefer to see me dead. But what really makes me nervous is that I'll be alone. There's no Harriet or Justus or Nic at my side to make sure that I don't make any more terrible decisions tonight. I don't want to let everyone down again.

A full two blocks before the limo reaches the theater, I see the crowds of people who have flocked to the premier. My mouth drops open in surprise. I knew that the promotions for the series were going well, but the size of this crowd would be significant even if we were A-list Evolved stars.

My limo stops in front of a long red carpet which is lined with velvet ropes. Clearly Wilde and Lady Cleo decided to carry the 20th century theme through the entire event.

An attendant opens my door, and when I step out, the crowd roars, a mixture of cheering and booing that is positively deafening. Dozens of cameras hover in the air like bees, and they surround me as I slowly walk toward the doors to the Showbox. I plaster a smile on my face and wave, at least until someone tries to spit on me. Clustered together near the curb is a group of people wearing "Citizens for an Evolved America" t-shirts. They hold signs declaring their hatred for everyone to see.

Throwbacks, Throwaways

Remember your place

Go home, Artifacts

Keep Seattle Evolved

Preserve the Gene Pool, Keep Throwbacks Sterile

My vision blurs at so much physical proof of the hate living in the hearts of people in my own city. It's one thing to read comments online, and another to see people red in the face, screaming so hard that spit flies from their mouths.

I look back at my limo, wondering if I can jump back inside and get out of here. But it's already pulling away from the curb.

A warm hand slides into mine, and I turn and see Justus's warm brown eyes staring into my own.

"You got this," he says into my ear. "Look past the signs. They're only part of the story."

I let Justus pull me to his side, and look at the crowd a second time. This time, I see Throwbacks mixed with Evolved, all eagerly shouting and pointing. The crowd cheers when Alison kisses Tupac on the cheek, drowning out the hateful chants. A group of girls are wearing shirts with Justus's face on them, and they giggle and turn red when we pass by.

"I think you've got some fans," I say, nodding toward the tweens.

"Flattering. But there's only one person I want swooning for me, and she's the one with a weapon strapped to her upper thigh."

His comment makes me grin. "Laser pen. How'd you know?"

"Because you're a badass."

I grin at Justus. Somehow he knows exactly which compliments hit me right in my heart.

As we pass a cluster of reporters, they shout questions at us.

"Joan! Justus! Is it true you two are dating?"

"Who are you wearing?"

"Justus, shouldn't you pick a girl you can actually be with?"

"Someone who deserves you?"

"A real woman, not a faded copy of a person?"

Justus's hand goes tense in mine, and the cloud of cameras hovering near us grows denser. Wilde told us not to engage with any of the reporters, but I can tell Justus is not going to let the comments go.

"You look at our DNA and say 'original' or 'cloned'," Justus turns so that he's looking right into my eyes. "I look at the woman beside me and say 'bold', 'brilliant', 'unstoppable'. And utterly out of my league."

Justus's words hit me right in the heart for the second time tonight. Next to us, the reporters frantically shout questions over top of each other, and it's impossible to make out their words. Justus ignores them and lets me pull him inside the theater.

As soon as we step inside, I pull him into a corner and kiss him. I pour all my feelings into the kiss. Everything I can't say, everything I want, everything I hope for.

Everything I'm destined to lose, way too soon.