Another doctor.
And another.
They keep coming-bristling around me with needles and tools.
One notices my eyes tracing each of them and places a mask over my face.
- - -
I thought I was done with tests and doctors, but they just keep coming. Every time I awake, I feel and see nothing but doctors. There is no pain, but no joy either.
They quickly put me back under.
- - -
I blink rapidly to get used to the light shining above me. My mouth feels as though it is filled with cotton and so dry I don't even want to try to speak. A new doctor appears above me, blocking the light like a cloud in the sky. "How are you feeling?"
My lips crack as I go to speak, "Achy, but fine." I grimace in response to my own voice. It sounds as though I smoked a pack a day throughout childhood and my throat-God my throat-might as well have been charred with it.
"I'm glad you are good my dear." His voice is familiar...the one from my test? It feels like I'm wading in water trying to think.
"W-what h-happened?"
"You have been under for weeks my dear. We completed the surgeries and now-"
My eyes widen in terror. Surgeries? What surgeries? No one told me about this. I attempt to sit up, but my body is jerked back down. They tied me to my bed? What is this?
"I apologize for the restraints. Some participants have injured themselves in the past upon waking and they truly are there just for your own protection." He clears his throat and looks uncomfortably at the ceiling. "I have been the presiding doctor throughout your care. Even with the most modern techniques, there must be a recovery period."
"What?"
"Well, it was in your contract, that when you agreed to join The Paragon you would also undergo whatever means it took to become perfection. A part of that included modifying your appearance-not incredibly so. You are already a beautiful woman. It's just part of the experiment, you see. We have been attempting to modify not only your appearance but your reproductive system as well as-"
"You messed with my reproductive system?" And just like that, it's easy to speak. My fury outweighs any discomfort. "What do you mean you had me undergo surgery on my, what, uterus?"
"Somewhat. I won't go into detail, but our goal is to make it possible for you to reproduce as often and as easily as possible. To do so, we shortened your cycles, but also lessened the effects." My brain spins as I consider his words. "If it's any other consolation, you will also give birth much easier than otherwise would have."
"What a consolation." Maybe it is. But the invasion they conducted on me...there aren't words to describe how violated I feel. "Can you remove the restraints, please? I promise I won't harm myself or others." What good would that do at this point anyway?
"Of course. You will be in bed for the rest of the day, but we have kept you under to progress your recovery as quickly as possible. Tomorrow you will join The Paragon." He flashes me a smile as he removes the restraints. He honestly thinks I should be grateful for this.
Throughout the rest of the day, I am brought various foods and drinks. A nurse comes in to help me walk around the room and double check there have been no adverse side effects. Fortunately, the worst I feel is an aching throughout my body and a weird sort of exhaustion. I notice there aren't any mirrors in my room—or bathroom—and wonder what I look like. I know for certain that my nose has changed, there is a loss of feeling in the tip of it and when I trace it with my finger it is more sloped and less bumpy. Aside from that, it is difficult to tell what they could have done. According to the nurse, it was only my nose and chin that were changed, but I don't feel any difference on my chin. They added some sort of material that evened out my face shape.
As the day reaches an end, my brain fixates yet again on the test. I sip a rich tomato soup as I realize that they probably didn't select me for my brain or physical strength. Probably not even for my personality. It was all just another big joke, that I fell right into. Not even fell, I chose this life. And I'll never get to return to my old one. Even if I could return, it wouldn't be the same. I wouldn't have Tristan—nor would I want him—and Alana and my relationship will never return to what it was. Ironically, the only constant would be my toxic father and absent mother. How fun.
The same nurse who brought me dinner interrupts my thoughts. "How are you feeling miss?"
"I'm fine." It's the same response I've given every time she's asked.
"No pain? No discomfort?"
"Nope." She rolled in a trolly behind her. On it, is a selection of desserts, pills, and tools.
"What sort of sweet are you in the mood for, miss? Do you prefer something warm or cool? I swiped a few extras since I wasn't sure what you'd like."I shrug, it really doesn't matter. At home, I loved anything sweet. Whether it be chocolate, strawberry, or vanilla I devoured it. Her smile doesn't falter as she replaces my dinner bowl with a tray of chocolates. "These are some of my personal favorites."
"Have you talked to any of the other girls?" I sniff one of the chocolates suspiciously, who knows if this will put me under yet again. She starts to roll her eyes at my antics but stops herself. I take a bite. At this point, what more would they do to me?
"I have." She raises an eyebrow and grins as I devour the rest of the little balls she gave me. They are all filled with different flavors and textures and even if they do kill me, the death would be just as delicious as it is gluttonous. "Most are very sweet, they were as confused as you were, but once they understood they have been joys to work with. They've all woken up at different times you see. Some of you had more intense procedures some had lesser ones, so I've been handling each of you at a different rate."
"What more did some go through?" Alarm bells ring in my head.
"Well, I don't make those decisions." She wrings her hands together, clearly uncomfortable.
"You don't agree with the process either?"
"I think that the reproductive one is actually quite impressive. If I were given the opportunity, I would do it in a heartbeat." She slips an ice cream bowl onto my plate and tops it off with a cherry as well as a pill in my hand. "I'm not too sure about the rest of it though. I don't agree with changing your appearance like that. I think your group is a sort of test, as they haven't done that before." Of course. Of freaking course. Why wouldn't I be the test?
"Well, thank you for taking care of me." I swirl my spoon around the bowl, collecting another group of sweet creamy goodness. "Will I see you again?'
Her smile turns sad, the tips not quite as high. "Perhaps." At that, she ends the conversation and I doubt that perhaps has much of a chance of happening.
- - -
The next morning I'm woken bright and early. Earlier than I would ever choose to awake. The lights flash on as someone claps and cheerily calls out, "Riiiiiise and shine. It's your big day!"
I simply groan and roll over with my pillow over my head. My blankets are thrown off of me, instant cold overtaking my body and I curl into a ball. I squint open one eye and catch sight of a man dressed in a multitude of colors with long flowy hair. The voice surely belonged to him. "Who are you?" I croak.
"Oh darling, I'm your stylist. It's time for you to get up." He offers me his hand and when I take it he pulls me straight up into a standing position. I wonder if my nurse and doctor would approve of how roughly he handles me. "For weeks I have been designing and sewing and perfecting everything for you!"
I wipe my face with my hand, attempting to brush the sleep away, but he catches my wrist in his hand and pulls my hand straight above my head. "What is going on?"
"Oh! Right, I totally forgot I was supposed to explain everything." He bumps the palm of his hand against his forehead. "So today you're going to meet the rest of the girls in your Paragon group." He pauses, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. "Maybe it's better if we start with what you actually do know."
"All I know is that I took that stupid test, they assaulted me and performed those damn surgeries, and now I woke up to you invading my personal space." I expect him to be at least a little taken aback, but he seems unphased. "Oh, and today I'll finally be joining The Paragon. Although now I'm wondering if it even is the paradise they promised to us."
At that, he does react. "Oh, I can assure you, The Paragon will be paradise on earth. And your first stop will be me." He jabs a thumb into his own chest and twirls backward to reveal a rack of clothing. "As I said, the whole time you've been resting I've been working away at your wardrobe. Fortunately, the doctors were kind enough to take your measurements for me so everything should fit perfectly. I think that the color tones for you should be neutrals, so the focus lands on your face, what do you say?"
"Wouldn't know. Haven't seen my face since before coming here."
"Well, we can fix that!" His voice is cheery as he holds a mirror in front of me. At first glance, one might not even notice anything different. But looking longer I notice the minor changes they did make. My nose isn't that different, but they did curve it a little more and remove the bump from the top. I can't even tell what they did to my chin, but my overall face shape is a little softer less harsh lines. It looks like I'm just a more beautiful version of myself. I hadn't realized just how terrified I had been until I finally was reassured I still look like me. My hair, on the other hand, is still a bedhead disaster. "See? Absolutely beautiful."
"I guess," I grumble. He's not wrong, even my skin has a natural glow to it like they'd been doing some advanced skincare routine, but I don't like how I got here. With the nurse, it was easier to imagine that she didn't condone all that had happened. This guy seems like he thinks it's the best experience of my life. "Neutrals you say?"
He reaches into the dozens of hangers and pulls out a bundle of fabrics, flourishing them in front of my face. As he flips through, it seems he's selected a grey, tan, brown, and white scale for me. Much more boring than my pinks, but when I bring this up he reveals a white dress with pink highlights. One thing he has right is that he must have been designing the entirety of my operations and recovery—if not before then. The amount of clothing he brought in is more than I have owned my entire life. Dresses of every style, every length, everything I could ever imagine are here. He puts up a little stall for me to change in privately and I go through each of them for him.
First, I opt for the white gown with pink ribbons around the skirt, waist, and shoulders. The skirt is like a princess, big and round and everything I ever dreamed of wearing. And the fabric is so soft—it makes my dress I wore to the test feel like it's from a cheap dress-up store. If only Alana were here, it would be so fun for us to be dressing up together, trying on all of these, and laughing at each other's styles. I run one of my gloved hands across my eye as it stings at the thought of Alana. The man misreads my gesture, "True. This one could use some touching up. Your waist has shrunk a bit and I could add a little more lacy details to the top."
"No-no. That's not it," I attempt to correct him. "I would love to wear this one today actually if possible."
"Unfortunately, they selected which dress you are to wear. I guess they didn't want anyone looking too extravagant on the first day. Pity, I had just the dress for that." At that, he pulls out a cream dress more gorgeous than any wedding dress I've seen. My heart stutters at the sight of it. The top part is simple, but elegant without much design. Yet from the tight waist, the skirt flows out in infinite layers of silk and lace looking almost like feathers. I reach to try it on, but he stops me. "I already know this needs adjustments, it's the same style of design as the one you currently have on. Here, try these."
He tosses me a sweater and a pair of jeans. Even these are of such high-quality material it feels like I'm being hugged. "They're perfect." I step out of the changing area and do a little pose for him. The jeans hug all my curves, maybe even creating some. He walks in a circle around me, a pencil tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, yes. These are close. You'll keep this pair but I'll adjust the others a bit. The sweater fits alright?" I nod and he writes down some notes in a notepad.
I try on a few more outfits before he looks at his watch and blanches. "Oh dear, the time. We must move on your hair now."
"My hair?"
"Yes. I love your chestnut color, but if you want it changed let me know now."
"Uh, no. Definitely not."
"Wonderful." He guides me into the bathroom, where he already has another tray of hair items including dyes and the works as well as a chair set against the sink. "I figured we'd add some highlights and dark toner to add a little more depth. But I'm so glad you want to stick with what you've got." He starts to foil my hair as some assistant comes in and gets to work on my makeup. I get the impression she has been going all morning from room to room. I remember when girls at school used to get their hair done and it took them hours before it was ready. If he had been planning that for me, I can only imagine what time I would have started today.
As she works, the assistant holds a mirror in front of me to explain each product and how she applies it. Initially, I want to stop her and let her know I do actually know how to do makeup. Except, when she does it it looks flawless and beautiful. I hope it's just the products and not so much her skills. She finishes long before my hair is done, and starts explaining how the day is going to work.
"First, we're going to finish getting you ready. Then I'll provide you with your phone and tablet. You will also have a television in your bedroom. Once you are dressed and fully prepared, we will escort you to the grand ballroom. This is where you will meet the other girls of your cohort—"
"What about the guys?" I interrupt. Tristan still lingers in the back of my mind like a bad aftertaste, but all I can do is hope that there will be a genuine guy here for me to find.
The assistant frowns at me, clearly disliking my tone and interruption. "That will come later. Just focus on today."
"Ay, you are so frustrating." At first, I think he's talking to me, but he's waving his hands at the assistant, pushing her out of the room. "Let the poor girl breathe. Her makeup looks wonderful but just go pack up her clothes and get her dress and shoes ready for the day." She nods sharply, and returns to do as he says. "And now, all we need to do is blow dry."
I'm shocked at how quickly he got the foils out. Perhaps I was merely distracted by all of the makeup and everything going on, but it feels like a weight is lifted off my shoulders as he pulls them out and dries my hair into soft waves. He holds up a mirror for me to look at the results. It's perfect. Nothing too different from myself, but yet again bringing out the best in me.
We return to the room where I find a soft grey dress waiting on my bed with a pair of sandals. The dress is much less attractive than any of the previous ones I tried on. I see what he meant by his early words. I go to pull it over my head but am stopped as the man lectures me to pull it on from my feet up so as to not disrupt my hair or makeup. Even the simple dress is nicer than most of my clothes from home, although I'm disappointed not to be able to wear one of the pretty outfits. Nonetheless, I do a little twirl and admire as it hugs my breasts and flairs at the waist. Even the soft spaghetti straps don't dig into my shoulders. They offer an array of accessories, but I opt to hurry to my introduction to The Paragon. Certainly, there will be time to accessorize later.