#selection oc

In the top 2, was what I was going to wear tomorrow. In the top 1 spot was “are people going to like me around here?”

I could have been lying on the most comfortable bed, with a beautiful view of the ocean and it could be the dead of night in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever had the opportunity to visit, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how I was going to meet the prince and what exactly I’ve gotten myself into.

For the past two weeks, I’ve been waiting to wake up from all of this, half expecting that this was all some strangely long dream. That /I/, of all the girls from Midston, was picked to meet the prince. Oh gosh what was I doing here?

I suppose the greater question was why was I walking to the kitchens in the dead of night in the palace?

I sigh, wrapping my arms around myself as I continued walking down the hallway I knew where the kitchen was. My maids were kind enough to show me where they placed some of the packed meals I brought with me.

Stressing over meeting a prince really did work up an appetite.

Everything’s fine. Everything’s cool. You’ve already picked out your dress, you’ve taken the time to already practice in the shoes you were going to wear tomorrow. You’ve practiced some of your answers for the interview tomorrow! You’re ready. I mean, come on. You’ve talked to boys before. All this stressing about meeting one boy was definitely going to give me stress lines in the morning. Oh shoot, do I make a right or left by the painting of Danielle Schreave?

Right. I had to make a right then go straight. Huh, the palace was even lovelier in the daytime, and a lot easier to navigate too, but just a few steps more… and I finally find myself at the door Campbell showed me earlier.  

Back in Orleans, I was surrounded by a group of people who liked me—but over here? I had to build up my entire image here from the ground up… and well, I hoped the cupcakes daddy made would help me make friends but… wait, was there someone else in the kitchen?

“What the—” I mutter, seeing someone sitting on top of the counter, munching on… were those the friendship cupcakes I brought with me?

He was… young. My age, I suppose? Familiar looking, but I couldn’t really pinpoint why. He blinks a few times at me, swallowing the bite he just took. 

“Oh, uh… hello” I hear the sound of his phone locking before he sets it on the counter.

I reach up to push some of my unbrushed hair back, trying to make myself look presentable before flashing a smile. Smiling always works, right?

“Hi! I’m Missy! I,” my eyes glance over to what else was in his hands, cupcake… yeap, before my eyes go back to him, “I just got here.”

He hops off the counter and I get a better look at him as he holds out his free hand for a shake, “Jackson. Been here for a while.” He flashes a small lopsided smile.

I maintain my smile, shaking his hand lightly. Jackson. Again… it was familiar. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Jackson.”

Jackson shakes my hand firmly before letting go, “And yours, Missy.”

He holds up the cupcake in his other hand, “Would you like one?”

I can’t help but laugh, eyeing the fridge and make my way to it, a little ways past him.

“No thank you, I had something else in mind. Anyway. I’m glad you’re enjoying my daddy’s cupcakes.”

I catch him setting the cupcake down then rubbing the back of his neck from the corner of my eye. “I um, I’m sorry, I thought they were left behind from dinner.” A small frown appears on his face.

“Oh there’s no need for apologies,” I laugh, trying to put him at ease.

I open the fridge, looking for one of the couple glass containers I brought with me in this huge fridge. Grammy really did make sure that I wouldn’t go hungry over here. Ah here they are. I take the container out and close the fridge. Oh right, Jackson was still here. Cupcakes. Right.

“My daddy made me bring a couple of dozen of those with me.” My eyes look over to where the rest of the cupcakes were, smiling at the memory of my dad giving me those dozens of cupcakes with smileys drawn on them. “Have another one, if you’d like.” I offer.

Jackson’s lips press together, a finger tapping on his leg. He eyes the remaining cupcakes.

“They’re very good.” Jackson looks back to me. “Is he a baker?”

“Yesiree, one of the best bakers his side of Orleans.” I nod, trying to scan the room for a microwave, tapping my nails against my glass container. “And they’re not just god, they’re vegan.”

His brows raise, I wonder if they were threaded or just naturally nice. Why are guy brows always naturally nice? 

“Really?” He picks up the cupcake he left behind and takes a large bite, looking like he was taking his good time to chew before swallowing. Huh, he seems pleasantly surprised. “They taste every bit as good as non-vegan cupcakes.”

“That’s exactly what everyone’s been telling me too,” I laugh. “I don’t know how he does it.” I shake my head lightly, thinking back to the long and winded discussions daddy and I would have over dinner, asking me to try his new vegan cupcakes, then thinking back to the glass container in my hands.

“Mind pointing me in the direction of a microwave?” I ask.

“Sure.” Jackson walks towards me, he points to somewhere behind me. “That door slides to the right. You’ll find it in there.” He flashes a small smile. “Odd, I know.”

“Much thanks.” I grin back to him, turning and walking to the cabinet he pointed out. Sliding it. Why wasn’t it opening?

“Oh..” I was sliding it to the left. I laugh to myself then look to my hands. Right hand, yes. I nod to myself and slide the door to the right, revealing the microwave. “Sometimes I forget which side is which.”

Jackson chuckles, sticking his hands in his pockets. “It’s a wonder you made it here safely.”

“I know! I can’t quite believe how I didn’t get lost on the way here.” I giggle, turning back to the microwave to open it and put my container inside. Why did he look so familiar? Where have I heard that name before?

“So Mister Jackson, do you have a last name?”

He averts his eyes for a moment, then looks back to me. My brows raise at that. Was it weird to ask him his last name? ((“Waldia. Jackson Waldia.”))

“Graham. Jackson Graham.”

“It has a nice ring to it.” I reply to him. I press a couple of buttons on the microwave. Cook time. Uh… two and half minutes seems alright. The microwave starts to whirr. Jackson Graham did sound like a nice name.

Graham. Jackson Graham. As in… Jackson Graham…. The brother of Felicity Graham…? Ex-Fianceé to Prince Arin…. Oh. Could that be why he averted his eyes? If I met someone who potentially could be the replacement girlfriend to my sister’s ex-fiancé, I probably would have done the same. I wouldn’t know. I’m an only child. “You’re the prince’s friend, right?”

He nods quickly, “Mostly. More with Safiya though. Well, Princess Safiya.” A small smile appears. “Haven’t called her that in a while.”

“Guess someone’s Mister Popular with the royals…” I tease, turning fully to face him, leaning on the cabinet.

“A byproduct of being the younger Graham.” He tilts his head, his eyes moving to somewhere behind me. “A vegan meal I take it?”

“How’d you guess?” I give a quick glance back to the microwave.

“Luckily.” He meets my gaze again. “Did you follow in his footsteps? With the baking?”

I blink, but quickly shake my head. “As a hobby, yes. Professionally? Not quite.” I laugh. “I followed my mama’s footsteps in that department.”

“Weddings. I plan weddings.” I add, feeling a sense of pride saying it.

Jackson seems intrigued, but considers my reply before giving me a crooked smile.

“I think I’ve finally met someone in a business happier than mine.” He replies.

I grin at that remark. “And what business are you in, Jackson?” I put my hands behind me, what exactly are other happy occupations?

“Aspiring veterinarian. Right now I work at an animal shelter.” His smile grows ever so slightly, but I feel myself instinctively smile wider. I gasp, just at the thought of working with animals. That sounds super adorable.

“That sounds absolutely delightful! You must get to work with the cutest little critters.”

A small laugh comes from him, “Critters is definitely one word for them. You’re right though. I couldn’t love another job more.”

“If you ask me, I think your business is happier than mine.” I chuckle, pushing some of my hair back. “I mean, nothing’s more pure than that.” Comparing it to weddings, working with animals does sound more pure for sure.

His arms fold loosely across his chest. “I could argue love in a marriage is just as pure.”

Love in a marriage. I place a hand on my cheek. Oh, you could only hope for that. That feeling when you’re walking down the aisle to the person you know you want to spend the rest of your life with, that security, that love.

“Weddings are definitely filled with pure joy.” Oh I hope I could find that here. Here. Selection. Palace. Prince. I blink for a couple of seconds, pulling myself from my daydream… nightdream?

“You can only hope for that.” I shake myself out of it. I was hoping to find that here, maybe.

“Is that why you got into the business? To take part in the joy?”

“I’ve always loved weddings, even when I was little. Everything… everything about it so magical. The moment you see a bride on her wedding day and when she walks down the aisle.” I squeal unapologetically, feeling the secondhand butterflies in my stomach just thinking of it. I live for those moments. “It just makes me so happy to see everyone happy.”

Jackson points a finger to me and my fangirling over weddings, “Pure. See?”

I grin. “I guess you could say I’m just a die hard for weddings.” I laugh to myself. Was living on secondhand butterflies from weddings really that bad? Not actually. At least I wasn’t bitter over people’s happiness. Not at all. Okay… maybe slightly jealous but that’s beyond my point.

The microwave beeps as I continue to explain. “But maybe animals can make you just as happy. My mama has always told me that happiness can come in any shape or form.”

He hums at that. “Thankfully, so do animals.” He breathes out a chuckle through his nose.

“Oh definitely!” I open the microwave, talking about animals making me think of my own pet. “Huh, makes me already miss Pancake.” I take my container out, damn it was still hot. I quickly set it on the counter.

“Dog? Cat? Bird?” he asks, opening a drawer and handing me a fork.

“More like… a pet pig.” I laugh, taking the fork and waiting for his reaction. I wonder what an aspiring veterinarian would think of a pet pig…

He gapes for a moment, looking quite intrigued, “Do you really?”

“Now why would I lie about having a pet pig?” I lean my side against the counter, giving him my best amused look. “Pancake the sweetest little thing you’ll find.”

Jackson’s brows furrow, “Why a pig? Do you have other livestock?”

“Not really, we don’t have any other animals other than Pancake.” I shake my head, grinning. “Some people choose to have a dog, I just… got a pig”

Pancake was a gift from a client, and he’s been a part of my family ever since I was 15. Been the cutest little thing in the family since me.

“Uncommon.” He smiles. “I appreciate that.”

“Pancake’s the reason why, I kind of went… vegan.” I smirk, “I mean acon wasn’t the same after I got him.”

He chuckles, “I can imagine. I have a feeling I might go down the same path starting next year.”

I raise my brows. “Well if you need a recipe or two to start adjusting, you’ll know where to find me.” Did that sound… too cocky? Oh god. “Not that I’m implying that I might stay here long, I mean—I HOPE I DO!” I set the fork in my vegan pasta.

There were no guarantees that I was actually staying here. Oh I should stop rubbing my wrists, that’s not cute at all. I breathe out a laugh. Oh wow, even when I laugh it’s awkward.

“You know, it’s okay. To be confident about staying.” A small smile forms on his face. I appreciate people who try to smile to cheer others up. “Not everyone is confident in the good kind of context, but it seems like you have the right idea.”

I look to him after considering his words, trying to relax myself.

“Sorry,” I shake my head. “Tomorrow’s just a big day, and well, I guess you can call this first night jitters.”

I think to myself, why was I so worried? Maybe it’s because you saw your competition today, all 34 of them.

I’ve never felt so small before, and I was 5 foot 9! Still, I felt so small, even when having read the backgrounds on everyone in the magazines. They were beautiful, well-educated, and a lot of their names were scattered more than mine was when we got to the airport.

I press my lips together, trying to dismiss those thoughts. I was well-liked back home, everyone loved me back in Orleans. I was going to be my best self and let everything follow.

I straighten my back.

“Thank you.”

“I’m sure you’ll do plenty fine. I know…” he seems to pause ever so slightly, “the situation is precarious. But Arin is kind. Remember that, despite everything else.” He smiles kindly at me.

For the first time in a long time, I felt so small in the scheme of all things, like I didn’t have much control. Kindness was the only thing that could soothe my mind for now, or the guarantee of the presence of kindness. I hope Arin was as kind as Jackson said.

“Kindness is all that I can really as for here.” I feel my smile tilting, “or anywhere really.” I look down on my glass container and try to pick it up, but it was still too hot. Guess I’ll have to improvise. I grab a part of my dress’ skirt to act as a mitt and it surprisingly worked.

“I’ll be having this in my room.” I feel myself smile a little brighter as I walk to Jackson’s direction, and gesture my head to the direction of the cupcakes on the counter.

“Help yourself to more of the cupcakes. See it as an introduction to veganism 101.” I scrunch my face up, teasing him.

He chuckles a bit, “Thanks. I hope you um, enjoy the meal.” He gestures to what I’m holding.

“Thank you for showing me where the microwave is.” I say before starting to make my way back to the door I came in. “Nice meeting you, Mister Jackson Graham!”

“You too, Missy.” I hear him call back, seeing him offer a small wave from the corner of my eye.

Aside from the stylists and my maids, that was the first full conversation I’ve had here. Huh, who knew my conversation here was gonna be with the brother of the Prince’s ex-fiancee.