Read Modelland Online

Authors: Tyra Banks

Modelland (18 page)

BOOK: Modelland
8.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Ha! The ground is more confused about them than I am!” Zarpessa snorted. The girl named Chaste, whose diamond pasties were threatening to slip off, snickered.

“I’ve never seen the Reflection Pool use punctuation before,” said a voice behind Tookie.

Tookie and her three pouch-mates spun on their heels. Behind them stood a strikingly beautiful, incredibly tall girl wearing the two-tone leotard uniform. She had long, shiny reddish hair with lots of bounce and body, dark brown almond-shaped eyes that turned up in a friendly way, and a smile on her face that made her look as if she was on the verge of bursting into laughter—the kind that laughed with you, not at you.

“Excuse me,” the pretty girl said. “I’m looking for Tookie De La Crème from Peppertown, Metopia.” She had a BayJingle accent.

“Um … that’s me,” Tookie said shyly.

The pretty girl squinted, perplexed. “You’re Tookie? You look … uh … well, anyways, hi! I’m so happy I found you!” She thrust out her hand. “I’m ZhenZhen. It is my destiny to be your Modelland Bella tour guide today.” Then she smiled slyly and whispered, “Well, maybe not exactly my destiny. I swapped my group for yours. But hey, destiny’s what you make it, right? I mean, you flew here
in
Ci~L, didn’t you? I just had to meet you. I’m kind of obsessed with her.”

Before ZhenZhen could finish gushing, Guru Applaussez, which was passing in a rush, yelled, “ZhenZhen, authenticity and originality are
très importants
to couture, as they are to identity! Return your
cheveux
to its color of origin or you’ll be removed from Bella tour guide duties!”

ZhenZhen rubbed her forehead and blinked, as if she was creeping quickly toward a panic attack. “But I look best with
this
color.”

Guru Applaussez’s hand-head reddened. “If you do
not
return to your natural color, I will send you to the BellaDonna.”

“Okay, okay!” And then ZhenZhen’s hair morphed from soft reddish-brown waves to pin-straight, waist-length coal-black hair parted down the middle. “Ugh, I hate when they make me change my hair back,” she said morosely. “Look, if Ci~L had long black hair, I wouldn’t mess with Mother Nature, okay? So it’s not about what looks best on me. It’s about what looks best on
Ci~L
, which in turn looks best on
me.

Dylan was eyeing ZhenZhen like she should be locked up in a mental facility.

“Ci~L select us too!” Shiraz said enthusiastically, pulling Piper and Dylan in for a tight hug.

ZhenZhen grinned at all of them, snapping out of her funk. “
Lucky!
You all spent intense, intimate time with Ci~L. You got to speak with her, to touch her, to be chosen by her. If I could roll back time and be newbie Bellas like you all and get swooped up in Jingle Square by Ci~L, oh goodness golly gracious, that would be amazing! When I was eleven, I actually tried to change my name to
Zhen~L
, but my parents refused to let me.

“Okay, on with the Bella tour.” ZhenZhen pulled her shiny, diamond-shaped badge from her chest and peered at it. With a series of clicks and clacks, the badge unfolded until it was the size of a magazine.

ZhenZhen studied it intently. “So, Tookie, I’ve got your name here, but your buddies aren’t on my list. That’s weird.” She rubbed
the surface of the card as if that would somehow make the names appear.

Shiraz, Dylan, and Piper looked at one another nervously. Tookie felt a stab of worry too—she didn’t want anything to happen to them.

Then ZhenZhen’s eyes widened at something across the courtyard. Ci~L had appeared once more, standing next to a glowing building. She raised one jeweled tentacle at ZhenZhen and gave her an eerie, wide-eyed look.

“Uh, wait a minute.” ZhenZhen held the card out. “There are three new names here: Dylan of Bou-Big-Tique Nation, Piper of SansColor, and Shiraz Shiraz of Canne Del Abra. Look at that!”

The girls let out sighs of relief. Tookie wondered if Ci~L had had something to do with it. But she couldn’t think about it for too long; when she looked up again, ZhenZhen was halfway across the courtyard, leading them over to a group of new recruits.

This group of girls inspected Dylan, then Shiraz, then Piper, then Tookie. Their eyes grew narrower and their brows more furrowed. Whispers began.

“Oh, sister, we are getting BitterBalled by those girls,” Dylan muttered.

“BitterBalled?” Piper raised an eyebrow.

“BitterBalls are in aisle five ninety-two at the Bou-Big-Tique,” Dylan explained. “They clear up all sorts of gastrointestinal problemos, but Lordy, the expression your face gets stuck in while your belly is gettin’ healed is a stinker.”

“I see your point, Dylan,” Piper admitted. “These young ladies probably think we cheapen the prize.”

ZhenZhen and the girls stopped at the group Zarpessa and
Chaste were in, which didn’t have a Bella tour leader. “I’m head tour guide,” ZhenZhen said, “and I’ll take you two groups from here. Stay with me! I wouldn’t want you to get clawed on your first day.” She laughed nervously.

Clawed?
Tookie wondered.

ZhenZhen led the girls down a long, crescent-shaped path toward the left side of the M building. “The entire golden area in front of the M building is called the M plaza,” she recited. “The M building houses the BellaDonna and all of the Modelland administration and who knows what else. One must never go inside unless explicitly invited.”

She gestured to her left. “All the way down this path and directly on the other side of the M building is the O, where later the BellaDonna will welcome you. Can you guess what it stands for?”

“Ovaries?” Chaste called out slyly.

“Obi?” tried a girl from Fuji.

“Ox tongue!” Shiraz yelled.

“Oddballs?” Tookie whispered.

“No!” ZhenZhen grinned. “The O is for …” She drew it out, pausing for effect. “Opera!”

Shiraz’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Opera? We get to do the singing here at the Modelland too?
Oohwee!
I sing lead!”

“Unfortunately, Shiraz,” ZhenZhen lamented, “you will
not
be the star of
that
show.”

Then ZhenZhen launched back into her tour script. “The BellaDonna is the latest generation of the Modelland royal line and has commanded the school for ten years. The statues that lined the entrance hall? Past BellaDonnas.”

The group strolled down the path until they came upon a
circle of floating images of the world’s current most famous Intoxibellas. There was a special section for the newest 7Sevens, the ones Tookie had seen at the demonstration the other day: Evanjalinda, Simone, Sinndeesi, Leemora, Katoocha, Bev Jo, and Exodus. Seeing Exodus’s name sent a pang through Tookie’s chest.
Our escape plan. Lizzie
. What was she doing now? Where had she gone?

“Why that one all staticky?” Shiraz whispered, pointing to one.

“Maybe I can fix it,” Piper suggested. “Who is it?”

ZhenZhen bit her lip. “It’s my glorious and most magnificent Ci~L. But I can’t speak about why her image is fuzzy. It hurts my heart too much.”

Tookie and the girls looked at each other. “Please tell us,” Tookie said.

“God, don’t you know anything?” Zarpessa piped up, catching up to them from the back of the group. “Ci~L went rogue. My colorist’s aunt’s sister’s grandfather’s daughter knows her, and she said Ci~L lost her mind trying to beat to her own crazy drum.”

ZhenZhen winced. “Oh, please don’t say it like that.”

But Zarpessa breezed on, enjoying knowing something the others did not. “And my uncle’s daughter’s best friend’s designer buddy told me that the reason Ci~L is back at Modelland is because she’s being punished for being off message.”

Chaste looked impressed at Zarpessa’s knowledge. All the girls in the group chattered with this new bit of gossip. Tookie’s ears burned with the sounds of different languages swarming around her.

Words from Kwaito, the land of safaris and tribal dance filled the air. “I wonder how they’re punishing her.…”

Phrases from TooLip, the land of windmills, engulfed her. “Do you think she’ll lose her Intoxibella status forever?”

Two girls muttered in Pyramidian, “Has Ci~L truly lost her mind?”

Chaste snorted. “Ci~L’s gone loony. She brought
them
here.” She gestured to Tookie and the others. BitterBalls for sure.

“Enough gossip!” ZhenZhen said angrily. She bolted ahead of the group, holding herself stiffly, and turned down a narrow sidewalk off the main path. The group stood in front of an enormous wall of twisted trees and plants with rapidly moving large bulbs and ivylike vines. All made of fabric, Tookie assumed. As they watched, the vine wall sprouted immense burgundy- and eggplant-hued metal thorns.

ZhenZhen dove straight toward the thorns. Right before they should have impaled her, the thick vines parted, revealing a new path made of mirrorlike stones. “Come on, girls!” she called over her shoulder. “You are now entering Beautification Boulevard! This is where all your classes will occur, assuming, of course, that you survive THBC!”

“THBC?” Tookie swallowed. “What’s that?”

ZhenZhen turned around, her face reddening. “Actually, I’m not supposed to mention it,” she whispered. “I really wish I could tell you, but Guru Gunnero likes to keep it secret. I’ll give you one teensy hint: it’s a special test not for the fashion weak or faint of heart.”

Tookie dared a glance at the other girls. Shiraz, Piper, Dylan, and quite a few others in the group looked nervous. Zarpessa, on the other hand, shrugged nonchalantly, tossing her auburn hair over her shoulder.

Then ZhenZhen whipped around and continued to walk. “Beautification Boulevard consists of dozens of distinct structures, each designed specifically for one class,” she explained. “Each
structure’s architecture directly correlates to the subject matter you experience within them. Ci~L was a master at all of her courses on this row. To this day, not one student has surpassed her extraordinary skill.”

Zarpessa flounced the ends of her yellow dress. “That’s because I just got here.”

Tookie looked down the boulevard. At the far end was a large, open-work structure shaped like an immense egg. A narrow wooden plank traversed its center and there was a scoreboard. Spectator seats lined the inside of the frame.

What kind of game is that for?
Tookie wondered.

“That,” ZhenZhen said, pointing at the egg building as though reading Tookie’s mind, “is the OrbArena, where pretty boys and gorgeous girls battle in ManAttack, the one class you’ll have with our brother male modeling academy, Bestosterone.”

“Bring it on!” Chaste crowed. “Can we do that today?”

“No, we never know when ManAttack will happen,” ZhenZhen said. “It’s always a surprise. And anyway, girls, males are accessories at Modelland. Don’t ever forget: we’re the stars, not the boys. Yeah, they do some modeling stuff, but basically we have them here to work for us: build our buildings, provide security and eye candy … that sort of thing.”

They continued down the boulevard, passing more fantastical and unique structures. A windowless plaid cube, about the size of a department store, balanced on the very tip of one of its corners. To the left, Tookie saw a ship bobbing on a body of water that seemed to appear from nowhere. Through the round portholes, she could just make out a class in session. A group of girls stood in neat, even rows, making bizarre faces in unison.

“That boat building is where CaraCaraCara class takes place,” ZhenZhen explained.

Tookie wasn’t sure if she should feel excited or alarmed. She’d never been on a boat before—the only opportunity to go on the water in Metopia was on a yacht in LaDorno, and only the rich got to do that.

Then Tookie swiveled around and stared in the other direction down the boulevard, fixing her eyes on an immense octagon-shaped course broken up by high walls, gravel pits, flamethrowers, ropes that whipped indiscriminately, jutting corners, sections of runways, and, of all things, spinning dance floors. As if that wasn’t confusing enough, thumping trance music began to pump loudly from the space.

Shiraz started bopping to the beat. Dylan smirked. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

Tookie watched Shiraz, feeling a familiar pang. Shiraz’s dancing reminded her of Myrracle. But then, Shiraz was much more pleasant to be around.

“So what is that place? Tookie asked ZhenZhen after the impromptu dance party had ended. “It looks like an obstacle course or something.”

“You’re very close.” ZhenZhen smiled at her. “The final-year Bellas—that would be me and my class—train on that course for the 7Seven Tournament.”

Dylan raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t know the 7Sevens actually trained. I thought it was just about who was the prettiest.”

“Which certainly wouldn’t be you,” Zarpessa said under her breath.

“The prettiest?” ZhenZhen giggled, addressing Dylan’s
question. “Oh, Dylan, haven’t you seen that pretty here is just a commodity, that every girl is easily exchangeable for the next Bella? There’s so much more to the equation.”

“Equation?” Piper looked excited. “If it deals with mathematics, specifically algorithmic statistics, I’ll be an immense help to you all!”

Zarpessa rolled her eyes. “Where did Ci~L dig up this idiot savant?” she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. Chaste giggled.

“There’s no need to worry about the 7Seven Tournament now,” ZhenZhen assured them, ignoring Zarpessa. “You’re years away from competing.”

Then Tookie noticed a girl wearing a long, flowing giraffe-print gown and five-inch leopard heels running the 7Seven course. She dodged the flames, nimbly cleared the walls, expertly walked the runway upside down, and gracefully performed a dance routine before disappearing into a waterfall.

ZhenZhen’s nose wrinkled. “Of course Kaitlyn would be practicing already. We aren’t supposed to start until two weeks before the 7Seven announcement. I should report her.” ZhenZhen checked the timepiece on her wrist. “Oh goodness golly gracious, I have to finish fast!” She started walking again. “This is only one section of Modelland. There is much more that you will be allowed to experience firsthand, should you survive THBC. Oops!” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Pretend I didn’t say that, okay?”

BOOK: Modelland
8.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Mass Effect™: Retribution by Drew Karpyshyn
Safe in His Arms by Vicki Lewis Thompson
Gibraltar Passage by T. Davis Bunn