Quincy opened the door to his apartment with stacks of food.

Ella waved an article around. "The board loves it." She mimicked Quincy's voice.

Beauty and the Mark

By Quincy Course

Josh Mort, whoever he is, has been mocking my writing for months.

He has called me a spineless swamp worm and lies that I don't have an opinion about the Mark Badges.

He blabbers about love and forgiveness, and shouldn't that love extend to the Mark Board, or me?

We should remove the Mark Badges because no women compare to the beauty of the female Mark Board members.

*

Half an Hour Later at Janice Kind's House

Quincy and Ella walked around Janice's four-story mansion. They arrived first. Elaborate paintings and sketches hung on the walls.

Handmade and thrift store furniture filled the dining party area.

Janice Kind glided on the vibrant, mismatched tiles.

Her home appeared expensive, but it was a facade, like her. The woman was a revolutionary. She turned former enemies to her side by treating them with kindness. "Canceling people doesn't change hearts." Janice mingled with the board members.

Guests piled into the dining/party room.

Ella placed platters of takeout food on the sizable buffet table, and she munched on a slice of pizza. "Quincy, I need to talk with a friend, but I'll catch up with you later. Don't worry, I texted Alana-Hope and she and her date will show you around." She walked off and mingled with the other guests, leaving Quincy alone.

Men and women who resembled Humans, Elves, Pixies with feathered wings, and Anthropomorphic races, chatted with the Mark Board.

Female Mark Board members wore purple uniforms or dresses to signify that they were the elite, the most beautiful and perfect. Male members wore black and purple uniforms with matching suit coats.

Quincy placed bread, popcorn, and cheese on the table.

Alana-Hope waved and ran to him. "I wouldn't have come if Ella didn't text me you'd be here. She said we could keep each other company if you don't mind. I hate attending these potlucks." Professor Alana-Hope Cross wore a flowing beige dress over her skin. A purple streak ran through her hair, a sign she once dated a board member, but it became a sign of her rebellion. She left a tray of mini pizza rolls, a jar of apple butter, and fancy skillet cornbread on the buffet table.

"I'm thrilled to see a friend," he said.

"Potlucks are part of our culture." Her date-tossed bacon-stuffed prune poppers into his mouth.

Professor Alana-Hope scrunched and contorted her entire face. "I don't hate potlucks, but this reminds me of the tacky white trash parties people invited me to when I left West Virginia. These potlucks are designed to be rude. Not that Professor Janice is mean."

Quincy groaned. "I can't wait until my school contract ends."

Her date grabbed a pizza roll and ate it. "These potlucks are a remaining tradition when Crystal Alpha was full of generosity, but I could see how you might take it that way."

Professor Alana-Hope adjusted her bracelet. "Before I moved to this planet, I've never seen poverty this extreme."

"Most of their girls are Marked, so at least they receive housing," a Mark Board member said from behind.

"Imprisonment is not housing. We can print tiny houses, 3D printed condos, or yurts," Alana-Hope said.

The Mark Board member glared at her.

Alana-Hope ate popcorn to avoid yelling at him.

"I agree, apartments could be 3D printed from recycled material." Quincy devoured another piece of cornbread and another.

Alana-Hope grinned and pointed at the cornbread. "The recipe is from my favorite café in West Virginia. It's organic, and the restaurant was built with recycled 3D printed materials."

"Is the housing situation fine?" Alana-Hope's date asked Quincy.

Quincy shook his head, 'no,' and grabbed another piece of cornbread. "Thirty percent of our population earns less than five thousand a year. Women often live with twenty others in a flat and spend ninety percent of their income on cosmetics and surgery, so they can avoid the Mark."

The Mark Board member shrugged and walked away.

Professor Alana-Hope piled popcorn and cornbread on her plate. "The Mark is grotesque, and that is why I feel these parties are rude because they often exclude Marked women. I'm not anti-plastic surgery, but this disturbs me."

A female Marked Board smiled at Quincy and stuffed her phone number into his coat pocket before leaving.

"Alana-Hope, you need to have our famous Crystal Alpha Fruit. We named our planet after it." Quincy pointed to the apple-sized plums.

Professor Alana-Hope tossed the fruit in the air, and she bit into the sweet flesh. "Your fruit will taste better if there was no Mark."

His eyes fixated on several Mark Board Members. "I play nice, and there is not much I can do."

Professor Alana-Hope stared at a creepy and hideous man. Ralphy resembled a half-melted troll doll with a plastic smile instead of a male model. She turned to her date. "Ralphy O-Clark doesn't have Cavalier Low's winning personality. Did you see Josh Mort's article about Ralphy?"

Her date shook his head, 'no.'

Quincy nodded. "Josh is a jerk."

Alana-Hope showed Quincy an article by Josh Mort in her purse. "He mentioned you again."

Quincy rolled his eyes and glanced at the article.

Ralphy 0-Clark married wife number five last month. His nineteen-year-old wife doesn't make him look youthful. She makes him resemble a tired-old-creepy-zombie-clown-man who wasted his money on women who can't stand him. We should not be upset by his appearance because no one is perfect, but shouldn't we look into the gossip that he and Yolanda were behind the beating of a girl last year who they later Marked?

I'm sure this isn't the first time. He inherited his job and has a criminal record. My sister Lisa and I think laws should apply to the Mark Board. Why do we allow scum with no real accomplishments to govern beauty? They aren't kings and Queens. Most of their ancestors bought their posts.

They are propped up by writers such as Quincy Course. He panders to them and tells them what they want to hear.

No wonder he was left at the altar. Would you marry a lifeless doormat who never goes on dates and fawns after Board Members?

"Wow, he hates me," Quincy said.

Alana-Hope winked at him, as to say without words, 'Quincy, you mean self-hatred, I know you're Josh.'

He grinned at her.

A young woman ran towards them. "Professor Alana-Hope, my parents are throwing me a plastic surgery party to celebrate my poem's publication. Are you coming?"

"No, thank you. I can't, um..." Professor Alana-Hope placed kettle corn in her mouth.

"She is squeamish," Quincy said.

Cavalier Low walked in and placed his purple suit coat over his uniform.

The board's second in command, Yolanda, followed Cavalier and approached Quincy. She was a former teenage supermodel who went by one name.

Ella waved at them. "Sorry, I was talking to a surgeon about eyelash extensions."

"Ella, your friend's last essay was funny, but it was tactless not mentioning his sister, but maybe he doesn't care." Yolanda poked at his shoulder.

"I despise politics, and I prefer teaching, writing, and looking pretty. Quincy's articles are not mean-spirited. Josh is the real threat, and I hate him," Ella said.

"I love my sister, but I'm not going against the law," Quincy said.

"We'd arrest him if we could locate the twerp." Yolanda grasped Quincy's wrist.

Quincy looked Yolanda in the eyes without blinking. "Josh is a blowhard."

Alana-Hope glared at Yolanda. "Quincy never insulted your flunky Cavalier Low. He was Mina's friend before the board Marked her."

"Yes, I know, but I couldn't vote." Cavalier Low walked towards them. His eyes glanced at his feet.

Ella didn't speak, and she nibbled on a cheese puff.

Yolanda glared at everyone in the room. "Helping our friends is cheating. I didn't help my sister. I wept when she was Marked, but she didn't meet Crystal Alpha standards. Quincy and I have a lot in common. Others before me took bribes. There is no honesty."

Ralphy walked towards Yolanda. "Speak for yourself, I'll never approve of removing Marks."

Another board member followed them. He rubbed Alana-Hope's arm. "Hello, my beautiful princess."

"You weren't supposed to show because you're too busy with your nineteen-year-old," Alana-Hope said.

"Honey, I'm never too busy to see you." The man was in his early forties and straightened his purple suit jacket.

"I need to leave." Alana-Hope gripped her date's hand and dragged him towards the door.