"Tighter!" the red-faced lady screamed at Aria. Aria was certain that if the corset was any tighter, the lady would die from lack of blood circulation.
"Did you hear me lady?" the woman turned to look at Aria when she hesitated. "I said make it tighter," she said in between pants.
The others waiting to have their dresses either patched or fitted stared at them nervously. At least she had eye witnesses, if somehow she managed to be convicted of murder.
She drew the straps of the corset until the woman could only let out shallow breaths. It was all worth it, her dress could finally fit, giving the illusion of a flat stomach and widened hips.
Aria slumped to her bench when the last customer finally left. She looked at the tiny heap of coins sitting on her desk before swiping most of it into a box, leaving just enough for bread and water.
Soon enough, she'd be able to enrol into dress making school. For now, she was only a cheap option for those who wanted to patch up old dresses.
This was the busiest day in Fengari, especially for Tailors and seamstresses. The selection, as she liked to call it.
Aria hated the selection and everything it stood for. Moreso, because it was hosted by the werewolves, the supreme ones.
The selection consisted of a day of caked up humans being transported to the palace in hopes of being selected by one of the Alpha rulers, a few dreamt of being selected by the alpha king.
For the young men, years of body building and training went into this day. Only a few humans got selected to be royal guards yearly, the rest ended up as slaves.
For the ladies, years of dieting, skin and hair treatment went to this day. It didn't matter that body shape and skin tone had little to do with being a cook or a gardener, everyone wanted to look their best.
Aria neither had the resources nor energy to pimp herself up just for the validation of such vile creatures. She would rather die poor, dirty and hungry than put herself in a position where she was desperate for the recognition of a werewolf.
Aria dusted her denim overalls, itching to get out of her work clothes and change into something warm and comfortable.
Her shop, which used to be her father's shed, doubled as her bedroom and sitting room. She ran her hair over her dishevelled wild curls before grabbing some coins and exiting the shop. She hadn't eaten a single meal the entire day and she was quite close to passing out.
She grabbed her tool box and locked up the shop. Before Aria went to sleep every night, she spent at least three hours at the busiest part in her village, screaming, "get your clothes patched up!" while she munched contentedly at her bread.
The whole town was in a frenzy when she stepped out. People struggled to board the bus while desperate parents whispered prayers for their sons and daughters. The royal guards consisting of werewolves and humans stood from afar, watching as the humans forced their way into the bus. Pathetic, if you'd ask Aria.
"Aria!" someone screamed for her from the crowd. Her town was small which meant a lot of people knew each other, and only one other woman bore her name, but last she heard, she had been bedridden for months.
Aria whipped her head so fast that it might have snapped off her neck. A middle-aged woman waved her over, her eyes wide with desperation. "Come please!"
Aria recognized her as a woman who frequented her store with her children's torn clothes, and a few times, she brought her homemade meals.
With hurried steps, Aria walked towards the woman. Her steps were more sluggish than the woman would have liked, but Aria was starving, there was a limit to how fast she could go.
"My daughters dress got torn in the stampede," the woman cried, pointing at her daughter who stood stiff with fright. "The bus leaves in five minutes."
"Calm down ma'am," Aria struggled not to roll her eyes. She thought the high and mighty Alphas should know the impoverished state of those under their rule. "I'll fix it." She said, schooling her expression to that of a concerned passerby when actually, she couldn't have cared less.
Aria stepped into the bus as the girl's mother whispered thanks and professed her eternal gratefulness. "Who knows" Aria thought as she began to stitch the hem of the maroon dress with practiced ease. "This might earn me a free meal."
"All done!" Aria spoke over her rumbling stomach as she cut off the extra thread.
"Thank you," the girl's chocolate brown eyes sparkled with adoration. She looked to be nothing more than eighteen years of age. She was two years younger than Aria but she was being shipped off to work for some narcissistic beings.
Aria felt a surge of rage rush through her as she packed her tool box amidst the whispering crowd in the bus.
There were at least a hundred of them seated, with a handful on their feet. Every single one of them wanted to be selected, but Aria had seen this too many times to know that more than half of the occupants of the bus would be returning to the village the next morning.
"Doors are closing," a voice cried as the doors whistled shut.
"Wait!" Aria shot to the door, trying to pry it open with her hands, but it wouldn't budge.
"Let me off!" she cried, slamming her hand against the glass that separated the driver from the passenger. The driver didn't spare her a single glance as she continued to scream like a woman in labour.
The passengers regarded her as one would stare at a toddler throwing a needless tantrum. "I shouldn't be here." She said as if she could hear their accusing thoughts.
"You can just wait and come back with me," the girl who's dress she had mended whispered to her. "I'm Prati."
Aria had given up screaming and resorted to silent seething as she glared bullet holes into the back of the driver's head. At Prati's words, she turned to look at the girl in confusion. "Don't you want to be chosen?"
"I do," Prati's expression was heavy with dejection. "My mum thinks I'll get picked, but I don't."
"Why don't you?" Aria asked, relaxing a bit on the seat beside Prati as she watched her village get smaller and smaller.
"I'm nothing special," she sighed. "Look at all these stunning girls," she gestured around the bus bustling with excited giggles and nervous whispers.
Aria turned to stare at the girl confusedly. Was she being humble? Or was she really unaware of how gorgeous she was?
Her hair was darker than charcoal, just like Arias. But instead of Aria's wild curls, her was pin straight and fell to her waist. Her siren eyes combined with her waist length her gave her the look of a goddess.
Her mother's choice of dress was fitting, seeing it showed off her curves, and the bright side? She didn't have to squeeze into a corset to achieve them.
"You're gorgeous," Aria whispered softly, keeping the rest of her thoughts to herself. She wanted to tell the girl that she didn't need dumb dogs to validate her beauty, or stupid royalties to determine if she was befitting enough or not.
But even in her anger, Aria knew that the moment those words left her mouth, her head would go off for treason. She eyed the guards who stood by the doors, stoic faced, seemingly undeterred by the bumpy ride.
Prati whispered a soft thanks, a gentle smile blossoming on her full lips. For a while it was quiet between them, even the rest of the bus was beginning to grow quiet. Anticipation hung heavily in the air as the golden gates of the palace came into sight.
"I hear the stakes are higher this year," Prati leaned in to whisper while she feverously ran her hand through her hair.
"Why?" Aria asked, struggling not to sound uninterested for the girl's sake.
"Because," Prati licked her lips. Her eyes darted towards the guards before she whispered, "The Alpha king is coming."
Well, that had nothing to do with Aria, did it?