Shiozu is a petite girl. No one would have guessed that she and Atelier are the same age – in fact, she is three months older. That day, she wears a bright yellow frilly blouse with a white skirt, which she looks adorable in. She's always one of the extreme few in Morheim who manages to look well put together.
"So, my dear friend, I heard you're graduating soon!" Shiozu chirps as they walk to the school. She has insisted on coming along to pick up the kids, proclaiming that she has exciting news to share with her best friend. Atelier didn't bother turning her away; Shiozu, having grown up with politics, never takes 'no' for an answer. Besides, they haven't hung out in a while, and Atelier has missed her.
"Yeah," Atelier replies in a monotone. Just hearing the word 'graduation' makes her uncomfortable. Or rather, it's the thought of what comes /after/ graduation. She doesn't know what to hope for anymore. "We still have our finals next week, but the Ball's this Saturday."
Her friend sighs dramatically and places an arm to her forehead in a pretend swoon. "Oh yes! The famous Jeron Vidar Graduation Ball! I could just picture it in my head." She skips ahead and twirls like a ballerina. "The soft orchestral music and the crystal chandeliers. The dancing! And the food! I imagine they'd have quite a spread. You're so lucky!"
/Lucky?/ Atelier nearly scoffs, but in the end, simply states, "I'm not going."
Shiozu stares at her like she's crazy. "You're kidding, right? Of course you're going! It's the most important day of your life so far. How can you not attend your own Graduation Ball and still tell everyone you're a graduate from the best academy in the whole nation?"
"I'm not really telling anyone about it."
"That's beside the point!" Shiozu harrumphed, putting her hands on her hips. "Parties are like, one of Pandemonium's specialties. And you're cordially invited! You'd be stupid not to go! Am I allowed to tell you how stupid you are?"
Atelier mumbles a 'no', but Shiozu is either too agitated to hear it, or just doesn't care. "You have to go, Atelier. It's a once-in-a-lifetime deal. Do you know how lucky you are? I didn't even get to graduate, let alone attend a ball."
"You know you could probably have gotten in if you wanted to." After all, Shiozu /is/ the only daughter of the Morheim mayor.
"Don't patronise me! Last time I checked, my last name is Ishiguro, not Lee."
"Well –"
"Atelier, we're not discussing me right now. We're discussing you not attending your own graduation," Shiozu says. "Why?"
There are so many reasons not to go that it's hard to pick just one. "It's not my kind of event, Shiozu. The people who will be there – I'm not like them at all."
At this, Shiozu actually looks teary-eyed. "Don't let that stop you. You have as much right to be there as they do. They can't deny you."
"Except, they can. I'm sure they'll find a way."
"What if you find someone to go with you?"
"I'm the only non-Elite in my year, you know that."
"Oh come on, they can't /all/ be assholes!"
Atelier shrugs. She used to believe that, but after years of experiencing - first-hand - life among the Elites, she doubts it. But then she remembers Jungkook - how nice and human he has been to her – and her cheeks suddenly heat up again. Their encounter earlier that day plays in her mind, shortly before she is reminded of Jerry's son. She shakes it off angrily.
She needs to tell Shiozu. They'd laugh about how ridiculous it is, and she'd feel better.
"Shiozu –"
"Oh, gosh! I can't believe I almost forgot!" Shiozu exclaims. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small pink envelope. Grinning sheepishly, she shoves it into Atelier's hands.
"A birthday card?" Atelier guesses.
"Mhm."
She unseals the envelope, finding two cards. The first is a handmade birthday card with a drawing of two girls holding hands – one taller than the other. /'Happy birthday! I hope you get to live the life you're yearning for. Thank you for being the absolute sweetest friend.'/ Atelier smiles.
The design of the second card looks more polished, but Shiozu has drawn the same two girls on the front. Except, they are framed by taupe flower prints, and the shorter girl is wearing a long, white gown. Underneath, Shiozu has penned the message, /'Will you be my bridesmaid?'/
Atelier gaped stupidly at Shiozu, not knowing what to say. "You're–?"
"Yeah... I'm engaged," Shiozu says with a wide smile across her face.
/"What?"/
"I know it's a little sudden, but my dad met up with his parents and they seem really nice. They're an alright family, not doing too badly. He looks like a good person too."
In other words, Shiozu is getting married to a man she probably hasn't known for longer than a week. And she actually sounds happy about it, like she can't wait. It's not that arranged marriages are out of the norm in Morheim; most girls agree to marriage when they are as young as 16. But Shiozu is the mayor's daughter! Surely she has a choice?
"That's..." Atelier bites her lip. Dumb? Horrible? "... Great, Shiozu. Wow." Is it really? She isn't sure at all, but she tries to sound as sincere as she could. "Congratulations."
Shiozu looks delighted, and... relieved? She heaves a grateful sigh. "Thank you. You'll be my bridesmaid, won't you?"
Atelier forces a smile. "Sure, I'll be your bridesmaid."
"Awesome! I'm going to tell my parents as soon as I get home. Oh, what was it you wanted to tell me?"
"Nothing." Everyone in Morheim has a role. As if their fate was written and set in stone the moment they were born in the district, and even the Ishiguro family couldn't – doesn't want to – run from it. Maybe it's time Atelier accepts this. Maybe it's time she rolls with her predestined role.
"It's nothing important."
---
It turns out Soo Young was right. Atelier doesn't stand a chance in Pandemonium.
She should have expected it, of course. But she was hopeful, and hope has made her blind to the obvious fact; the fact that the government and the academy absolutely would not have given out scholarships to the non-Elites if merely graduating with good grades guarantees them a shift in their status. /No, the lower class must stay low./
While the career counsellor drones on, Atelier tunes out. It was the first time she hears of the term 'varsity', and that unless she has the means of attending one, there is no way anyone in the city would employ her. As the counsellor moves on to explain the more specific details, such as the careful selection process, entrance examination and the exclusive rights and priority given to the Elites, it is becoming clear that Lady Luck would not be able to help her this time.
Atelier is stuck. Her high school diploma would look nice on her wall, but it is useless and won't get her where she wants to go.
She has taken notes in her journal, and reviewing them only makes her angrier. At the school, at herself, and at her life. It is so unfair. She spent six years learning what the Elites learn. Everything they know, she knows too. Why can't she be given a chance? Just because she is from Morheim? It isn't okay!
After the session is over, Atelier quickly leaves, not bothering to stay behind and ask questions like the other students. It doesn't concern her. After the next week, nothing in Pandemonium should concern her anymore.
She walks past a trash can, backtracks, and dumps her journal into it – all her thoughts, musings, written hopes –
/Rubbish./