Modelland

by Tyra Banks

  The brand-new sparkling seats were filled to capacity with staff, Bestosteros, and civilians. Hovering above were special skyboxes for every living Intoxibella. Tookie spotted Katoocha from last year’s ceremony waving to the crowd. Sinndeesi had Bestosteros waiting on her hand and foot. Dalmah, one of the most amazing catwalkers of all time, walked in place regally for the crowd. Then Tookie noticed a skinny Intoxibella popping pills and offering some to the Intoxibella to her left. She looked like she hadn’t slept for weeks. Is that Fiona from Catwalk Corridor? she wondered. It was! She must have gotten out for good behavior. But it appeared she’d be sent back soon.

  The Modelland Bellas filled the floor section of the stadium. Zarpessa and Chaste lounged in the back rows, whispering, and Kamalini bopped her head from side to side, listening to her Headbangor. Filing in through the side entrances of the stadium were dozens of acrobats and exotic jungle cats, lending a circuslike atmosphere.

  “Can they really not see us?” Piper whispered, tiptoeing over to the seats and waving her hand through Zarpessa’s transparent hologram. She stuck out her forefinger and thumb and mimicked crushing Chaste’s and Zarpessa’s heads. And in an uncharacteristic way, she said, “Take that, bitches! Who’s translucent now?”

  Dylan sidled up next to Piper, lifted her train, and pulled aside her leotard, baring her butt. She wiggled it at the girls. “This is for you, ladies! Some Bou-Big-Tique booty!”

  “Behave!” Persimmon hissed, pulling both girls away. “You are in the presence of the BellaDonna!”

  But the BellaDonna was unaware of the Unica Bella hijinks. Her eyes were darting back and forth from the stadium to Creamy.

  Creamy tucked Bellissima under her arm, marched over, and yanked Tookie’s hand. “Look, BellaDumba, since you have to greet your adoring public, I’ll make this short and sweet. She”—Creamy jabbed a finger at Tookie—“doesn’t belong here. My Myrracle does.”

  “What?” Shiraz blurted out from the sidelines. “Tookie do too belong here!”

  “Silence!” Persimmon snapped, kicking Shiraz.

  The BellaDonna launched herself forward and groped for Tookie’s other arm. She missed, but then she grabbed hold. “Excuse me? No mistakes were made on The Day of Discovery.”

  Tookie glanced nervously at Ci~L, knowing the truth. But Ci~L just shook her head and made a zip it motion across her lips.

  “You lying stone-faced woman!” Creamy gripped Tookie’s wrist hard and pulled. It felt like rope burn. “I know why you did this. You’re still bitter after all these years. You’re still holding a ridiculous grudge.”

  With another tug, Tookie went stumbling back to the BellaDonna. “You’re right! My heart has never healed and never will,” she said cryptically. “But revenge is so sweet. My bringing Tookie here instead of Myrracle made you catch the Pilgrim Plague—and that tastes so good to me. But yuck, you survived the journey.”

  Creamy pulled Tookie back so hard, Tookie felt like her insides were going to split open. Suddenly, Creamy’s gaze landed on Myrracle, who was watching the 7Seven stadium preshow dance number with amazement. Her toes tapped to the music. Her arms wiggled and her head bobbed. Dust and soot flew off her body like she was a rug that had just been shaken out.

  “Myrracle!” Creamy shrieked, and slapped Myrracle across the face.

  “Owie, Creamy!”

  “Then stop that damn devil dancing! This is our life! Our chance! And I refuse to let you just prance it away!”

  Myrracle fought hard to not cry. Her cheek bore an exact imprint of her mother’s hand and ring on it. “But it looks funner out there than it is in here with … you.”

  A vessel in Creamy’s forehead bulged. “I trekked up this damn mountain and almost died for you! Do you even know what that was like?”

  Myrracle stared, slack-jawed, at her mother. “Of course I know what it was like, Creamy,” she said in a voice that sounded lucid—almost intelligent. “I was there.” And then, before anyone could stop her, she ran out of the room.

  “Myrracle!” Creamy screamed. “Come back here now!”

  But Myrracle was gone.

  Creamy clamped her mouth shut, looking flustered and bewildered. Clearly, this wasn’t part of the plan. “Well, at least she’ll be in the stadium, surrounded by other Bellas, where she belongs!” She whipped around and transferred all her aggression to the five fingers that still held tightly to Tookie’s arm, squeezing so hard that Tookie let out a small, pained eep. “Now make it official,” she said to the BellaDonna. “Or else.”

  “Or else what?”

  “Or else I’ll tell them.” Creamy’s eyes glimmered darkly.

  “What are you two talking about?” Tookie cried, caught between them. “Tell us what? What are you both hiding?”

  The BellaDonna snickered. “I have no idea what your mother is talking about, Tookie. But there are two things I do know. Uno: your mother is evil. Y dos: she doesn’t really care about you. All she cares about is herself. And maybe that bizarre baby doll she’s carrying around.”

  “That shows how blind you really are,” Creamy snapped. “Bellissima is beautiful, not bizarre!” Then she moved her face close to Tookie’s and put her cruddy hand on Tookie’s cheek. It was sweet and terrifying at the same time. “As for what I’ve never told you, Tookie, it’s all in the past, dear—the ancient past. And you know ancient isn’t my thing. Plus, it doesn’t concern you.”

  “Of course it concerns me!” Tookie wriggled her arms. “I’m caught in the middle!”

  “Yeah, crazy mama. Let go her!” Shiraz yelled.

  Both women stared only at one another. Tookie gazed with disbelief at her mother, nearly unrecognizable with the soot all over her wrinkled face, her normally pristine clothes in tatters, and her hair a filthy rat’s nest atop her head. All at once, Tookie realized how little she knew about Creamy. How her own mother was one big mystery to her, except for the clear disdain she had for Tookie. To Creamy, Tookie was a waste of time, deadweight. That was why Creamy was fine with sending her away to become a Factory Dependent. Tookie just didn’t matter. She was in the way. And now, she was in Myrracle’s way.

  Tookie’s shock over finding out that the BellaDonna and Creamy knew one another was replaced with rage. Whatever had happened between them, she wanted to know about it. She deserved to know. It was time for the truth.

  As she stood there in front of her tormenters, Tookie caught sight of the long corridor of the OoAh. A plan began to form in her mind.

  “Give her to me, you blind bat!” Creamy screamed, yanking on Tookie’s arm. And at that, Tookie moved a smidgen to the left in the direction of the hallway.

  “She is property of Modelland now!” the BellaDonna roared, using Tookie as her tug-of-war rope. Tookie shifted toward the hallway a little more.

  Back and forth they went, until they were halfway down the hall. Finally, Tookie broke free and sprinted toward the Flashback Females.

  “Tookie, where in the hell are you going?” Creamy squawked.

  Tookie skidded to a stop in the Flashback room. The three Females sat cross-legged on the floor, calm looks on their faces. They hardly seemed surprised as Creamy, the BellaDonna, Persimmon, Ci~L, Myrracle, and the Unicas tumbled in after Tookie.

  “Milky, or whatever you call yourself, leave my premises right now!” the BellaDonna roared. “This is a sacred place, and I will not have your filthy mouth, body, mind, and bizarre doll dirty it up any more than you all already have!”

  Tookie approached the Female closest to her. “I deserve to know what happened between these two,” she said aloud. “Can you show us?”

  The Female frowned. “But it is not your flashback, Tookie. Only the one who is part of the flashback may access it and show others.”

  Creamy stepped forward, her footsteps making dirty smudges on the gleaming white floor. “Then I’d like to access it. We all can see.”

  “Don’t you dare!” the BellaDonna roared, reaching for her but missing. Exas
perated, she groped toward the wall. “Narzz! I need you! Come now! There’s an intruder in my OoAh!”

  Behind them, in the projected image of the stadium, Gunnero flinched as though he’d heard the BellaDonna’s message loud and clear. The crowd was getting restless. The Bored was on their feet, trying to calm everyone down and determine the cause of the delay. “Where’s the BellaDonna?” voices cried. “She’s never late like this.” Gunnero promptly abandoned his post and vanished.

  Creamy moved toward the Flashback circle. “Well? Show us!” she commanded the Females.

  The room started to dim and the walls began to pulse.

  “Don’t listen to her!” the BellaDonna screamed. She glared around at Tookie’s friends and Ci~L. “All of you, you must leave with me now!”

  Immediately, Tookie and her friends ran toward the door—the place was in chaos, but still, they knew they couldn’t disobey the BellaDonna. Shiraz made it out first. Then Piper. Then Dylan. Tookie was close behind but tripped and fell. And then Creamy jumped into the circle, making more dust rise off her body in a thick black cloud.

  Instantly, the heavy metal doors slammed down, sealing Tookie and Ci~L inside with the two deranged women and the Flashback Females. The sounds of the 7Seven festivities were instantly muffled. The room descended into darkness. An eerie reddish mist wafted through the air.

  “No!” the BellaDonna wailed, scratching at the heavy iron and concrete doors with her fingernails, trying to lift them. “Persimmon, do something! Get these doors open!”

  But Persimmon just shook her head helplessly. “O beloved BellaDonna,” she said in a monotone. “There is nothing I can do to lift them until the flashback is over. You know that. You put these doors here.”

  “Yes!” Creamy hissed triumphantly. “The stone woman is trapped by her own man-made rock!” Then the Flashback Females stepped up to Creamy and leaned their heads close to hers, telepathically interpreting Creamy’s wishes.

  “It is so,” the Females said, lowering their beehived heads.

  Creamy turned and faced the others. “Here we go, darlings.”

  Here we go, Tookie thought nervously. Am I really ready for this?

  All at once, Tookie felt that familiar tingling sensation. A pinprick of light appeared at the end of a tunnel. More light streamed in, and shapes appeared. The shapes became buildings, and then Tookie was standing in the O, alone. And yet … much about her surroundings looked different. A stadium stood off to the side, but it was made of ancient stone. The M building glistened a tad less, but it was still a shimmering behemoth.

  “Tookie?”

  Turning, Tookie saw Ci~L across the O. “What’s going on?” Tookie cried, rushing over to her.

  “I—I don’t know.” Ci~L spun around, taking in their surroundings. She ran her hands down her face and took a couple of deep breaths. “When is this, I wonder?”

  “Shhh,” Creamy hissed from close by. Tookie caught sight of her too, standing on the edge of the golden walkway, still caked in filth. The BellaDonna stood next to her, covering her eyes. Persimmon was at her side, staring straight ahead.

  Just then, a stream of girls in yellow uniforms walked off an escalator onto the ground. The escalator was alongside the electromagnetic sphere that housed War of Words class—except instead of being suspended in the air as it normally was, the structure was on stilts. The girls’ uniforms looked similar to ZhenZhen’s upperclassBella one, but instead of pants, they had on skirts that stopped at their knees. The flashback followed two of them, one with very dark hair and olive skin, the other with blond hair and beautiful pink cheeks.

  “I still think my argument that fuller lips and butts are no longer on trend is correct, but yuck, so cruel. I hope I got my point across in rebuttal without hurting anyone’s feelings,” the olive-skinned girl said. “Pouty, tarty, juicy plump lips … don’t go well with slender, tender, slimmer, thin hips!” She sang this last part, stretching out her arms as if completing an aria. She was undoubtedly the BellaDonna, but she couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old.

  “You always manage to win War of Words but never lose friends. That’s a gift, Ladonna,” the blonde said brightly, reaching over and giving the brunette a friendly hug.

  Ladonna? Tookie thought. Oh my God! Is that the BellaDonna’s real name?

  Ladonna playfully smacked the blonde. “Like you aren’t full of magical gifts, seven of them to be exact, little Miss Future Triple7? Sometimes I wish those magnetowaves would scramble your brain so the rest of us could shine.”

  Then Ladonna started belting out a song about being free as a bird. “One more War of Words and we’re free for a whole month!” she gushed. “Go-See-Go can’t come soon enough.”

  The blonde poked her side, smiling brightly. “That’s just because you’re jonesin’ for that hunka man of yours.”

  “Shhh!” Ladonna whispered, glancing at an enormous BellaDonna statue across the square. It had the same defined lips and arched eyebrows as Ladonna.

  “That’s the Queen BellaDonna,” Ci~L whispered, as though reading Tookie’s thoughts. “Our BellaDonna’s mama. I think they’re from a long line of royal Intoxibellas or something.”

  Just then, a third girl ran up to the group. She had silky brown hair, smooth tan skin, and large, alluring tiger-striped eyes. She wasn’t in a yellow upperclassBella Modelland uniform like the others, but instead wore a long couture gown. It was flesh-toned and made of the finest lace and tulle. Tookie leaned forward, frowning.

  Ladonna’s eyes widened, admiring the brunette girl. “Nice vestido, girlie!”

  “Yep,” the new girl said, doing a shimmy and a twirl. “I just came from a fitting with Guru Applaussez. It just needs a few more tweaks. I’m going to wear it for the big day. It’s kind of hard to walk in, but easy to turn!” She spun like a top, completing four circles, spotting perfectly.

  The blonde clapped gleefully. “You’re definitely going to be chosen to be a 7Seven wearing that, Latta.”

  Latta. The name rang through Tookie’s mind like a siren.

  “I hope so. Because if they don’t pick me, I think I’ll literally die, Percy,” she replied.

  Someone in the room gasped. Tookie turned and saw Persimmon the Mannecant in the corner. Her head shook with sorrow. Was she Percy?

  Then Tookie’s gaze moved to the brunette girl again. There was something vaguely familiar about her mouth, her eyes, the color and tone of her silky skin, but Tookie was too scared to admit the undeniable truth. Then her gaze returned to the dress and her heart stung once more. It was the dress Creamy had specifically picked out for Myrracle for T-DOD at the Jurk boutique one year ago. Creamy had chosen it, touched it. Even though it was vintage. Old.

  Tookie’s stomach turned over as the weight of what she’d just discovered fully hit her.

  Latta was Creamy! Her mother! And Creamy, the BellaDonna, and Persimmon had once been best friends on their way to becoming Intoxibellas at Modelland.

  43

  PORCELAIN LIVING DOLLS

  All at once, they were whipped out of the flashback, back in the Flashback Females’ room once more. The BellaDonna and Creamy were staring at one another, their faces two inches apart.

  “Ladonna,” Creamy hissed.

  “Cremalatta Defacake,” the BellaDonna answered.

  Tookie widened her eyes, hardly believing what she was hearing. Cremalatta. And … Defacake? Disgusting!

  She stared at her mother. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this? Why didn’t you ever tell me you were a B-B-Bella here?”

  Creamy just shrugged. “Oh whatever, Tookie. It’s one minor detail of my life I just … left out. Get over it.”

  Ci~L sniffed with disdain. “You’re telling Tookie to just get over it? That’s rich, considering it’s obviously something you’re clearly still seething about!”

  Tookie’s mind continued to spin. “Creamy, is this how you knew so much about Modelland? Is this how you knew Myrracle was going to
g-get chosen?” Daughters of Intoxibellas had almost a 100 percent chance of getting into Modelland, after all, higher than the chances of SMIZE finders.

  Before her mother could answer, the Flashback Females looked at everyone, communicating without moving their mouths. “We’re going back in, everyone. To a different flashback now. Hold on.…”

  There was a whoosh, and the tingly feeling gripped Tookie once more. When the pulling sensation abated, the group had landed backstage at a busy fashion show. Magical disembodied hands flitted around Ladonna and the other Bellas, dressing them in feathery frocks of red, black, and orange. Percy’s dress was so elaborate that twice the number of hands swirled around her, getting her dressed. Mannecants fluffed their hair and did final touches on their makeup. It was clear without anyone having to say anything that Percy was the star.

  Ladonna peered through a curtain, then gestured for someone to come forward. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Drop off the stuff and work next to me. We’re safe back here.”

  A warm-skinned man, handsome in an approachable, non-Bestostero kind of way, rolled in an enormous crate on wheels and began to unload it. His strong back muscles flexed. Magical hands scurried over and began to rummage through the items he’d unpacked. Gracefully and secretly, the man reached for Ladonna’s pinkie and quickly spun her around.

  Ladonna giggled. “Cremalatta, Percy, this is him. The first and only love of my life.”

  “Holy hell!” Ci~L blurted out, watching the flashback. “The BellaDonna was dating a civilian? You’re kidding me!”

  “Be quiet!” the present-day BellaDonna shrieked. She stared at the man in the flashback with a devastated look on her face.

  Meanwhile, the young Bellas in the memory greeted Ladonna’s beau. “She’s told us so much about you,” Percy said brightly, her whole face a smile. “Anyone who makes Ladonna happy makes me happy.”

  “Ladonna’s told me about you too,” the man said, bowing kindly to Percy. “She says you have the chance to be a rare Triple7.”