#mgss

[July 9, 2021]

Page 1 of a terrifying, terrifying story. (/lh /nsrs)

A short one-shot for MG, celesteschreave, as I am her Maxon Gang Secret Santa! It's sort of an AU, though it's plausible that something like this could have occured.

I knock gently on Celeste's half-open door. "Come in," she calls, her voice harsh, piercing through the air. I find her laying on her stomach on her bed, freshly pedicured toes dangling in the air as she flips through a magazine. Her nails look freshly painted as well, but her maids are no where in sight.

"Hello, dear," I say, sitting down on the bed. Now closer, I can see that the magazine is full of picture of herself. Of course. I laugh half-heartedly and she rolls around, giving me a confused look. "What?"

"I thought you were America," she says, almost disappointed. "She was supposed to stop by this afternoon."

"Oh," I gasp, hoping to cover my shock. What could America and Celeste possibly be talking about? "Well, I'm sure she'll come by later."

"I guess," Celeste shrugs, sitting up carefully to avoid damaging her toes. "So, this is it, right?"

"Huh?" I ask, squinting at her. She waves a hand at me nonchalantly and stands up, heading to her closer. Until now, I didn't realize she was wearing a robe.

"This is the end, I know," she says, sifting through her wardrobe as if we were talking about the weather. "You're sending me home."

"Wha-How?" I stutter, unsure of what to say. Yes, that's why I came here. But why did she suspect it? I haven't been that obvious, have I? Does everyone in the palace know I'm going to choose America?

"You're so oblivious," Celeste smirks, pulling out a simple blue dress that compliments her skin tone beautifully. I turn away as she carelessly changes in front of me. "Everybody with a brain knows you're in love with America."

"No, I-" I protest, but realize it's no use. Once Celeste starts talking, it's better to not interrupt.

"I know you're going to try and spare my feelings, Maxon, but it's really okay. I've known from the start that you'd never really love me. Like me, maybe. But not love. And I get it," she sighes, sitting down beside me on the bed. "I wouldn't have loved me either."

"Celeste, don't say that."

"It's true, though. I came here for the power, not for you. I came to be Queen. And you deserve much more than that. You deserve someone like America." She takes a deep, shuddering breath, on the verge of tears. The last thing I expected to see today was Celeste crying. "And she's perfect for you, Maxon. She can give you everything you want and more. Not just a queen but a wife."

I don't really know what to say. Tell her to leave? That, yes, she's correct, I do love America and am kicking her out? I try to think of a way to word this nicely, gently, but everything sounds so harsh in my mind. I speak anyway, realizing something must be said. "Celeste, you're a beautiful woman-"

"I know that," she rolls her eyes.

"-and you're going to make a great wife one day. I wouldn't have kept you here this long if I didn't think that. But, you're right. I'm . . . I'm in love with America. And I have to let you go," I finish, gently grasping her hand and giving it a squeeze.

She nods slightly; she knew this was coming. "What about Kriss?" she asks, surprising me. I never thought that Celeste, of all people, would be worried about one of the other girls. "Is she going home, too?"

"Not yet," I mutter. "Well, neither are you, either. You both are going to have to stick around a little longer until I . . . sort things out with my father." That's a little more than what I'd wanted to tell her, but the least I can do is give her honesty. "But I can't tell Kriss. Not yet. It will-"

"Break her heart. Yeah, I know," Celeste says, a sorrowful gleam in her eyes. Maybe Celeste cares more about the other girls that I thought. "I won't tell her. Or America. It will be our little secret," she says, standing up and heading to her vanity. She immediately starts brushing her long, silky hair as if nothing happened, a blank look on her face. She's no longer the vulnerable girl I saw crying seconds ago. She's back into her steel-skinned, tough girl persona, where no one can hurt her. "You can go now, Maxon," she says, her usual edge back in her voice.

I nod and start towards the door, wondering how she really feels. Did she love me? Or did she just want the power? Something in her eyes, in the way she spoke earlier, tells me there's something more to her story. But whatever it is, I'll never know. Because if there's one thing Celeste knows how to do, it's hiding herself.

"Celeste?" I say, swiveling around on my heels as I pull open the door. She just raises an eyebrow in the mirror. "Thank you, my dear."

"It's been a pleasure, Your Majesty."