Don't Promise (Don't 3)

I pivoted on my heels and bolted for the back exit, but ran square into the tiny man with the headset. I heard someone call him Luc. Nametags probably weren’t permitted in a place that existed on its secrecy.

“No, no, cherie. This way.” He jerked me back to the line and shoved me forward.

Brooklyn giggled. “It’s going to be awesome. I promise. It’s guaranteed.”

“I-I changed my mind,” I tried to explain. “You’re going to have to do it without me.”

But it was too late. The line had lurched forward, carrying me with it. Two more steps and I was on stage.

I squinted as the spotlight smacked me in the face.

“Smile,” Brooklyn whispered behind me, prodding me forward. “Look natural. And blink, damn it.”

My feet felt clunky and unbalanced as I inched across the stage. I didn’t know whether to meet the audience head on or pretend they weren’t there. I dared a glance, but the lights were too bright. The faces were dark, blanketed in splotchy shadows.

I followed the brunette in front of me. Her hair was styled with tight ringlets that bounced when she walked. They weren’t the only thing bouncing. She was practically falling out of her top. I guessed she was using dress tape to keep herself tucked in. I knew my outfit didn’t wow the audience. A

fitted denim skirt, topped by a soft white T-shirt. Brooklyn said it looked sweet, but I knew she wanted me to change. I stood next to the brunette as we formed a single row against the curtain.

Brooklyn whispered in my ear. “We’re actually doing this. We’re in The Titan.”

I wished I had some of her giddiness instead of the nausea that attacked me in prickly waves. My palms were sticky.

“Please examine your tallies,” the MC instructed. “The gala has begun.” He wacked a gavel on a marble pedestal, announcing the beginning of my nightmare.

My shoulders jerked at the startling sound. I swallowed softly.

“I would like to invite our participants to await their tally number before returning.” His accent was thick. I couldn’t place it. He might not have been a native Galonian.

I shook my head at the ridiculous thought. Why did I care where he was from? Why was I trying to study dialect as if I had a linguistics degree? I was going to be paraded in front of the audience a second time, only this time it would be alone. I had to walk without shaking. Without my ankles buckling. Without puking on the polished floor. That’s what I should focus on.

“Molly, let’s go.” Brooklyn kicked me with a slight tap of her hip and I turned for the doorway.

As soon as we were backstage I exhaled and bent forward, gripping my knees.

“Did you see anyone?” she asked. “Maybe one of the princes? I heard there might be a director here. Did you recognize any of them?”

I shook my head. “The lights were too bright.” I looked up. “How did you hear about a director?” I hadn’t seen her speak to anyone else. As soon as we arrived we were ushered into a room where someone explained the contents of the non-disclosure contract we were required to sign.

We also had the option of getting our hair and makeup touched up and a complimentary glass of champagne, but only one. I wished I had accepted it. Drinking beyond that was prohibited.

She shrugged. “One of the girls in the back said they’re shooting a movie in Harwina. It’s a possibility.”

“That’s an hour from here.” Talking helped. Concentrating on facts. Miles between cities. Those things cleared my head. I tried to picture the road from Freychon to Harwina. I had been there once.

“But this is The Titan.” She beamed. “It’s legendary.”

“Right. Legendary,” I whispered.

“Cherie, cherie, it is time.”

“Oh no. No. No. No.” I shook my head.

I was surprised at how strong he was for having such a slight build. Within seconds he had nudged me forward and the spotlight landed on my feet.

“Tally seven-seven-seven.” The MC’s voice rang clear as he announced my number.

“Oh shit,” I whispered. There was a hand on the small of my back as I was thrust on stage.