The Fractured: Elena: A Blemished Novella (Blemished Series) by Dalton Sarah

Author:Dalton, Sarah [Dalton, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2013-03-14T04:00:00+00:00

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Thirty minutes later Elena sat on the train with Jake, who laconically bossed around the film crew and other runners with grunts and monosyllabic commands. Elena sat in her new outfit – a tasteful grey pencil dress – and listened to one of the camera guys rattle on. He was short and skinny with low-slung jeans and eye-liner. He told her about how they had high hopes for her. The country needed a new star. They weren’t united anymore. They didn’t believe. Elena stared out of the window, only half listening.

“They need to stop the Resistance,” he said. “It’s getting out of control. There isn’t a fashion show or a reality television programme that isn’t interrupted by them. They seem to think they can hold the city hostage with their protests and bombs.”

“Bombs?” Elena pulled her eyes away from the countryside and stared at the camera guy with furrowed brows. “There are bombs in London?”

“Oh yeah. It’s a minefield, honey. People are knocking seven bells out of each other. It’s terrible, really. You’ve picked the worst time to come to London.” He paused. “Or maybe the best time. This is the last chance, I reckon, to pull everyone together. They need someone like you, a rags to riches star. Someone with a story, who has made it to the Capital from the worst Area in Britain.”

“So that’s why they held the competition,” said Elena. “It’s the first time anyone has actually made it to London from our Area. This is all some sort of plan to try and fix the crap happening down there.” She laughed. “Great. And I thought things were looking up.”

“Oh, they will, honey. One way or another, things will start looking up. They can’t get much worse.” He shrugged and applied lip balm.

Jake watched the conversation unfold with interest. Elena wanted to ask him what the hell he was staring at but instead she rested her head against the glass and closed her eyes. She was vaguely aware of the television crew in the background, filming her every move, but she didn’t really care. One of them set down the camera and ate an apple, Elena saw him as she peeked out of the corner of her eye. She felt a little smug to be proving to be such a boring subject.

The journey continued. She watched the countryside drift by in a blur and enjoyed the luxuries of the shuttle – including champagne, canapés and a hairdresser. The train was empty apart from her and the film crew. She thought about Clare, about how empty the house would be, and about her mother stuck at home, probably getting her Blingin’ Botox discount. People fussed around her, telling her what time they would get to London. They didn’t really tell her what to expect, just hinted about protests from the Resistance and counter-protests from fans of the show. Surveys showed how popular she was. People liked her forthright nature and beautiful face. She just wanted to sleep.

The scenery changed, from rolling hills to dusty towns.

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