The rest of the girls and I were led off the stage to curl up into the women's room. I lay on a couch, a soft pink robe curled over my shoulders. A glossy gossip rag bowl was sitting in the center, containing the contents of tonight's interviews. They really could turn out articles fast. I snatched the article and feasted my eyes upon it. 

"A moving speech"

The interviews

Sayra Chin Lee, a five from summer came into the selection with unexpected support, but only seems to rise from there. Her moving speech about the health of her family and her suffering touched the hearts of fives and twos alike all around. Here is a graph depicting the public's new opinion. 

This graph depicts the close competition between Everly and Scarlett, a 23 to a 22, and the lowering and rising opinion. Miss Sayra Chin Lee sits at a 15. What's your opinion? Stay tuned to find out.

- William Wilcox; Author of "The Selection; All Reports"  

I closed my eyes, feeling the pulse of the orange light beneath my lids. I wasn't mentioned in the article. Was my interview not a hit? Did I not prove that I was indeed fit to be queen? I massaged my temples and glanced around the room. Some other girls had rossip rags clutched in their impeccably manicured hands. How was it that Sayra was one point behind me? How was it that Everly and Scarlett were winning when I was meant to be queen? I glanced at Bree, who was snug on the couch sipping hot chocolate. How could she? One girl had already gotten eliminated from dinner, and the idea made me sweat. A lady walked in informing us that we would be going to the living room, where the prince would pick and choose, to eliminate. I had to make it to the elite. I had to win. I frowned, then stopped, hoping I hadn't caused any permanent damage. I flipped to the next page of the article, noticing it had the selection in its name.  

"The lower castes"

A study

The selection is a prestigious event that normally comes out with a victor from the caste's two and three. But what if a lower caste won? Here is a look at the stats comparing the candidates from the caste's four and five.

Who do you think is the best candidate from the lower castes? Keep tuned by checking the gossip rag daily.

- William Wilcox; Author of "The Selection; All Reports" 

I closed the rag and stood as the lady motioned for us to leave. I slipped off my robe and stood around the long round table. The prince walked around, eliminating five girls in total. I could tell he paused at Adelaide, ready to eliminate it before his kindness won out. He was obviously keeping her so that she could earn a little more money. He apologized to every girl he eliminated trying to make it better. I sighed, wondering at his big heart. He never stopped by me, obviously wanting to keep me. I grinned as we bid goodnight and walked into the long hallway. I heard giggles and saw Bren and her friend, some piggy girl named Ollia scuttle around. Ollia had her bright red corkscrew curls tied into two ponytails, and she wore a black leather jacket with a tight red leather dress under. 

She also wore lace up black boots. Her strategy was obvious during the interview. Enemies to lovers. She was polite, but showed some contempt for the prince. At the very end when he thanked her, she appeared the least bit flustered, stumbling for her words before returning to her brisk manner. The crowd ate it right up. I, and the prince, instead saw right through her. Anyways, Ollia saw me standing by my door and rolled her eyes. "Are you spying on us?" She said, lisping her words heavily. With her crazy hair, big eyes, and incredibly annoying lisp I would have gone for a cute strategy, but obviously she wasn't as intelligent. 

I smiled at them, channeling all of my politeness. "Can't the queen wander her own castle?" I said. "Obviously not, I keep getting disturbed!" She said, referring to herself as though she was already the queen. Bren tugged at Ollia's arm, glaring at me as she whisked away. These girls were no competition. This would be easier than I thought.