One Of A Kind Maxon X Reader

2. The Brouillettes

   "Isa!" I groaned, snatching the rag from her hands. "You're supposed to clean the whole vase, not just the outside!" 

   Isa sighed and leaned on the wall. "Even the inside?" she said, throwing her hands up in the air.

   "Even the inside," I confirmed sadly.

   She groaned and stomped her foot on the ground. "Why? No one will even see the inside!" she said in frustration.

   I sighed and started to clean the inside of the vase, using a tool to reach inside. "Because," I said softly, "this is what we do as Sixes. We clean."

   Isa looked down at the ground. "Is this what we'll do for the rest of our lives?" she said softly. 

   "Well... unless you save enough money or marry someone in a higher caste... then yeah, I guess," I said, shrugging.

   She sighed. "If only Mom had me a year earlier. A year!" she said, exasperated. "It would have made a huge difference!"

   I chuckled. "Why? So you could enter the Selection?" I asked playfully.

   "Yes!" she said excitedly. "I would die to enter the Selection! Have you seen Prince Maxon?" She swooned.

   "The Selection?" 

   I turned around slowly, automatically recognizing the delicate voice. I curtsied, motioning Isa to do the same.

   "Miss Ashley," I said softly, "do you need anything?" I paused. "Are we a little too loud?"

   She  chuckled delicately. "No, no. The Selection. I was just wondering if you were going to enter." She smiled softly. "You have a chance," she said softly.

   I almost scoffed. "No, I'm not. It's a little too... eh for me," I said, shrugging.

   She smiled brightly. "'Eh'? I don't think I've ever heard that before," she said.

   "Well, it's because-" I stopped myself. It's because you're a Three; I'm a Six, I thought. "I only use that word when I'm with my family," I said nervously.

   She nodded. "Oh, that's why," she said. She looked over at the wall clock. "Well,I'm afraid I have to go. Thank you for the conversation."

   I curtsied again. "Of course, Miss Ashley." 

   She walked away, taking delicate steps towards the front door, the sunlight seeping through the colorful glass, making a mosaic on the tile floor. I watched as she opened the door and walked out, her lavender dress almost getting caught between the door as she carefully closed it. It was weird, really. The unfair treatment people in the lower castes get because they don't have money. The special treatment people got in the higher castes because they have money. It was all unfair.

   "Y/N?" Isa said softly, snapping me from my thoughts.

   I looked at her and smiled gently. "Let's get to work. The more quickly we clean this place up, the faster we get to go home," I said, cleaning the vase again.  

   "Okay," Isa said softly, grabbing the rag from my free hand and cleaning the desk the vase was sitting on.

   I sighed and looked at her, her face dirty from the dirt and dust. I stopped cleaning for a second and studied her. Even though she was young, she had bags under her eyes and her hands were a tiny bit dirty. I frowned and looked at her clothes. Even though they were some of the nicest clothes she owned, the color was fading, and there was a little rip on the back of her pants.

   I shook my head and continued cleaning the vase, trying not to let my tears fall. My little sister... I was supposed to sacrifice myself for her. I was supposed to make sure she wasn't working so hard that her face and hands were dirty with soot. I was supposed to make sure she had decent clothes. But did I do that? No.

   "Isa..." I whispered softly.

   She hummed in response, still cleaning the table.

   "You can go home. I'll take care of it from here," I said softly.

   She stopped cleaning and turned to me, cocking her head slightly. "Why?" she asked, confusion leaking out of her words.

   I smiled softly. "Just go. You should relax and do something other than cleaning. Maybe you can watch TV, or something. You know, be a teen for once," I said.

   She gently put the rag on the table and smiled. "Okay!" she said excitedly. A little too excitedly.

   I raised my eyebrow.

   "I mean, if that's what you want, then okay. I'll go home," she said nervously, fiddling with her fingers.

   I chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Go on. I can take care of this myself," I said.

   She wrapped her arms around my waist tightly. "Thank you! See you later!" she said, releasing me and rushing towards the front door. "Love ya!" she said, rushing out the door and disappearing from my sight.

   I smiled softly and picked up the rag, cleaning the remainder of the table that Isa didn't clean. All of a sudden, the sound of heels clicking came towards me. I turned around and automatically curtsied.

   "Mrs. Brouillette," I said in my most ladylike voice, "can I assist you?"

   She smiled gently and smoothed my hair. "No, dear. I was checking on you. Are you tired? You can go home if you'd like. I will still pay you if you do," she said gently.

   I shook my head. "No thank you, Mrs. Brouillette. I have to work and earn my payment. Thank you, though," I said.

   She smiled and looked around. "Where's your sister? Isa, right?" 

   I nodded. "She went home, Mrs. Brouillette," I said. "I just thought she needed to relax and be a  teen."

   Mrs. Brouillette smiled gently. "I see. You know, you're still a teen, too. You should relax and go home," she said, a motherly tone in her voice.

   I nodded slowly. 

   "You should go home," she said, smoothing my hair. 

   "Yes, Mrs. Brouillette," I said softly, grabbing my rags and heading towards the door. "Have a good evening," I said, curtsying before opening the door and heading outside.

***

   Six days left, I thought, pacing in my room. I ran my hand through my hair in attempt to calm myself down. There was a knock at my door, and I stopped, turning my head towards the door.

   "Come in," I said, standing up straighter.

   My elegant mother came in, looking radiant. "Maxon, my dear, are you alright?" she asked.

   I smiled gently and walked towards her. "Yes, Mother. Just worried, that's all," I said nervously.

   "Is it the Selection again?" she asked.

   I nodded slowly. "It's just that... I'm nervous, Mother. The Selection... I'm not nervous about being with thirty- five girls, I'm nervous about finding a bride. What if she's not in the group? What if I accidentally send her home? What if-"

   "Maxon it's alright. I know you're nervous, and you have every right to be nervous. Just remember: be yourself. You're choosing them, not the other way around," she said, reaching her arms out and embracing me tightly.

1160 words! Yay! Um... I don't really know what to say... hehe... Thank you so much for reading this! Yeah, it might get a little cringey here and there, and I'm so sorry about that! (Just warning you!) I'm still practicing! Anyways, have a wonderful day!