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“This way,” he says, beckoning me up to the main door. He twists the knob and steps over the threshold with me behind him.
A cacophony of smells overwhelms me as soon as I step inside. Omegas and alphas, an overwhelming sensation that makes my stomach cramp and my heart pound. But unlike the subtle rainstorm of Arlo mixed with the leather of my Reese, I find this combination distasteful.
With unsure footsteps, I move forward into the room. There’s a tinkling noise overhead, and I glance up at the crystal chandelier above us. This space is beautiful… ridiculously so.
But then, omegas do like nice things.
Derek gestures at a collection of dark-clothed people, who seem to be moving furniture from place to place. One of them races forward and hands Derek a headset, which he promptly puts on. I can see they’re laying out tape marks for the contestants to stand on. I remember reading about them once in a magazine, how people stand on them so the camera angles look right.
I hesitate, wondering what I’m supposed to do. Should I move to one of those spots? I glance down at my ratty jeans and tee shirt, hoping against hope I won’t be thrown into the mix without warning. I’m almost relieved when Derek grabs my arm and tugs me along, pulling me through the main room toward a closed door off the back of the house.
He opens the door and gestures for me to go inside. “Wait here,” he says.
I step through the doorway and look around. Everything from the walls to the furniture is bright white, including the tufted leather couch. A tv screen with a white border is mounted on the wall in front of the couch. Beside it is a white vase filled with white lilies.
“Do you have any makeup with you?” Derek asks.
“Um, mascara and lip gloss?”
Derek curses under his breath. “Hold on a minute.” He puts his hand to the headset, and speaks into the mouthpiece. “Need makeup in here.” He chuckles as someone responds. “I know, right? But she’ll have to do the best she can.”
I can feel my cheeks flushing hot. I look down at my hands, trying to control myself.
“Get hair in here, too, if you can. Girl’s a mess.” Without another word, Derek walks out the door, slamming it behind him.
I stand in the middle of the room, hugging myself, trying not to cry.
It’s not long before a surly makeup artist who introduces herself as Kim steps into the room, along with a sheepish hairdresser who says her name is Stephanie. Both of them are beautiful in a Hollywood sort of way. They’re clothed in black, blonde hair snatched behind their heads in perfect ponytails. Kim is taller, more statuesque, and Stephanie is shorter, more fae and dainty. The two of them get to work right away, neither of them speaking for long moments.
Finally, Stephanie breaks the silence.
“Your hair is beautiful,” she says as she sprays a curl with a liberal amount of aerosol.
“Thank you,” I say, smiling at her. “That helps.”
“Helps?” Kim repeats as she applies foundation over my freckles. “Helps with what? You’re an omega in the land of fucking omega dreams. Everything you could want is right outside that door. All of these packs of alphas have been selected just to please you. All they want is to make you happy. Make it so you never have to do anything but be pampered for the rest of your life. Not that I imagine you know anything different.”
“You think it’s easy to go on tv, knowing how people will talk about me? How they’ll look at me?”
Kim’s brush pauses for a moment as if she’s surprised, but then she shrugs. “Poor little omega doesn’t like herself, huh?”
“Actually, I like myself fine. I’m strong, healthy, there’s nothing wrong with me. But ever since I revealed, people have been reminding me that I’m not quite good enough. After a while, it starts to sink in.” I sigh. “Even as I say it, I hear what you mean. It’s not a real problem.”
“It’s not,” Kim says with a sniff.
“Plus, that’s not how most people see you,” Stephanie adds.
“Steph, shut up. You know we’re not allowed to talk to them about that shit.”
“Sorry,” she murmurs.
I study Stephanie carefully. I can sense that she wants to tell me something; that she has some kind of secret I can draw out of her. Smiling, I shrug. “It’s ok, actually. Someone told me about it before I came here, so I know all about it.”
Kim snorts, falling for my bluff. “You pay someone off to make that whole fight happen? Seems like something one of these girls would do for the drama payoff.”
So this was about the alpha fight? “Actually, I didn’t. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I’m broke as fuck.”
“Please. They gave you a hundred grand just to put your name into the lottery. And you’re an omega. Everyone knows you’re all loaded,” Kim says, her mouth twisting.
