Ｔｈｅ Ｓｅｌｅｃｔｉｏｎ {Ｓｅｍｉ－Ａｄｖａｎｃｅｄ Ｒｏｌｅｐｌａｙ} discussion

"I'm lying on the moon." Paris's voice echoed through the empty room, bounced off the chalkboard covered wall and wafting out the door. She was trying to do something special, something to keep her busy. And so The Moon Song was born. She was currently stuck on the first verse, unfortunately. "My dear I'll be there soon...Yes! that would work beautifully. " She gasped to herself.

Paris shouldn't really be in here right now. Athens told her about 35 minutes ago to pick up some flower seeds for their garden while she was away at work. Yet here she is sitting in her family classroom strumming a ukulele and singing to herself. It's a little hobby, song writing. She could sing pretty beautifully if she really tried; and being poetic is almost a gene passed down from her father. Her progress was scribbled in her most trusted diary journal and the pencil was currently resting in her messy bun.

The sunlight broke out from the clouds and landed in the classroom illuminating the room and brightening her brown eyes to a muddy green. Paris wanted to finish this song so badly; wanting an excuse for her absence in delivering the flower seeds, maybe even telling her sister she wrote the song for her which she really didn't. Paris sighed and leaned back in her chair plucking the stings of her ukulele in an out of tune fashion on purpose in frustration.

"I'm lying on the moon, my dear i'll be there soon......it's a quiet and starry place... Perfect!" She scribbled that in her notebook. Three verses; much song, much progress. She groaned again tossing her journal and pencil over to the side and dropping her ukulele she stood and wiped her eyes, glancing at the time wearily. "Crap" she whispered through her teeth grappling the hems of her long skirt and rushing out the door of the classroom

Did I say 35 minutes ago? I mean't 1 and 35 minutes ago.

She was late. She was so very late. Paris cycled down the street with unforgiving stamina and agility, swerving past pedestrians and things of that nature. "Hello Mrs. Brinim! Sorry I have to go!" She called out in her vaguely British accent to her lovely neighbour, an old widow with an ever growing amount of cats in her abode. "Hello my dear, are you sure you can't stay? I've just got a new kitten, his name is Franklin." Paris lessened the quick speed of her bicycle to shake her head sullenly at the old maid. "I'm sorry I'm in a rush right now. How about later?" She apologized, her abrupt stop causing her hair to collapse out of her bun. Paris gave the woman an apologetic smile and waved. "I apologize again, see you soon!" Paris grinned and pushed her feet on the pedals to quicken up again

Oh her sister is going to kill her.
~~~

"Oh my goodness, Athens I'm so sorry!" Paris gushed running her fingers through her now free locks of brown locks. Her sister nodded absently leafing through pages of her social studies textbook. Venice lay in his crib nearby, and Paris couldn't resist scooping him up and cradling him. "You have to learn to not be forgetful sometimes however." Athens scolded, and closed her book taking Venice from Paris.

"The Selection has been announced...don't you want to be a contestant, you know, after the whole Fergus incident." Athens continued leaning against the doorway of their family room. Paris hesitantly reached her pale fingers to stroke her scar. "I don't suppose the prince would fall in love with me when he has 34 other girls to choose from." Paris sighed tucking a loose strand behind her ear. It was still fun to hope, right?

"I imagine she would be a two, very beautiful...perhaps with blonde hair; men always love blondes, a good temper and a great personality to match. I could never amount to such high quality." Paris mused sitting down with The Marionette a thick classic novel whom she has read over six times. "I would have to be perfect, and no one can be perfect, it's a scientific fact." She added, her voice slightly muffled for she was chewing on her thumb nail. Athens rolled her eyes. "But don't you ever dream he would fall in love with you and you would get married and live a long prosperous life? Maybe with a few children or so and a great big room all to yourself--" "Athens! It will probably never happen. I have 1 in 35 chance of being selected, the odds are very low" Paris chided turning a page of her novel.

A girl could only hope...