Setting up for the ceremony--more widely known as the Day Of Acceptance, as I had no previously mentioned--was much more rigorous a task than what most people would be led to believe. It was the only day where every member of the society was gathered in the plaza, to witness the acceptance of the new Citizens into their rightful places of Society, and so accommodations had to be made for every man, woman, and child. Actual measurements and decisions were made many months in advance, so that the Products would have all the necessary to seat everyone comfortably, and still have room to construct a stage.

As always, the task was difficult, but once you knew your place things went along smoothly. The strongest, predominately male, set to work on the platform; while others worked on lighting, and seating. Each person had a place, and we were exactly on schedule with our allotted thirty minutes of time. I was finishing a final row of chairs, located at the front, where the Products and our most important officials would sit. Already, people were waiting patiently for permission to enter the plaza, and the Angels were rigorously patrolling the streets--not so much for protection from the Citizens, but protection for the Citizens, as today was the only day it seemed any unmentionable persons managed to slip through our walls.

The sound of shattering glass startled me, and I looked to the stage, where the final lighting was being arranged. A boy, one I did not recognize, was standing in the center of a circle of shattered glass, and I withheld a sigh. It was clear to see that the boy was intelligent, but his emotions got the better of him. He was too nervous, too shaky and unpredictable. In the thirty minutes we had been setting up, he had managed to drop five different objects, and break a total three of them.

To myself, I shook my head lightly at the dark-haired boy, turning back to the task at hand before I could fully see the Angels quietly escort the boy off stage. Some people were intelligent enough to live in the Society, but they lacked the social graces necessary to be a fully functioning member. He would not have lasted. I set up the last few chairs under my arm without another thought to him, or where it was they would take him now.

Once finished, I walked to the center of the plaza, where a group of Products stood idle, waiting patiently for more instructions. There would be no more need for any, however. With the removal of the boy, the lighting and construction of the stage was finished within moments. Applause sounded form outside the plaza, and we all exchanged small, thankful smiles. As we smoothed out our clothes, they began to allow the other Citizens into the plaza. The crowd had grown exponentially larger in the few moments we had left, each Citizen, wishing to be punctual.

As a group, we moved to the front of the seating, taking our place in numerical order. As Product Seventy-Four, I was near the end of the first row, with only a few Products between me and the end. Statistics show that Products with smaller numbers tend to do better, because they have more time than the others to learn and experience.

With a clear sort of precision, the plaza was filled with the population of the Society, each person finding their place with remarkable ease, and waiting quietly for the ceremony to begin. As Products, we were not allowed to look back at them, we had to remain looking forward towards our fate, and only when we had been fully announced as Citizens, we could look upon the family we had been invited to join.

The girl to my right, Product Eighty-One, I recalled, turned to be with an elated smile on her face. "Isn't this wonderful?" She spoke, with clear emotion in her face, so vivid that I could read her expression easily. I smiled graciously, and exchanged a few moments of pleasantries with the girl, coaxing her through her nerves and assuring her that the Society would not forget someone as important as her.

She was a rather sturdily built girl, I remembered, with a very set jaw and strong shoulders. She wanted to be chosen to help with the upkeep and restoration of the wall, and designing buildings for the convenience of the Society. The girl had high hopes and dreams for her future, even going so far as to fantasize as to what her name might be, as she had not received one yet. She was a good girl, the very model of an enthusiastic Citizen, and I wished her the best of luck with her goals.

With our conversation ended, we looked back to the stage ahead of us and watched as a man calmly walked up, a clip board in his hand and an easy smile on his face. "Good afternoon, Products of the Society." His voice was broadcasted through the plaza by a small microphone I could barely see clipped onto his shirt. The man spoke with a soft voice; reassuring, but with the firm certainty of an announcer. Before he gave us his name, I could already recall it to memory. "My name is Mr. Young; I am the head of Communications and on the board of Examinations. I would like to personally congratulate you all with your acceptance into our perfect society, and I would be honored if you would allow me to announce the names and occupations of you--the future of the Society." Applause followed his announcement, and with a smile he executed a quick bow, before motioning for the crowd to settle down.

"Thank you," He told us, looking through the front row at the Products, and for a moment his eyes lingered on me before moving on. "You're too kind, truly." Mr. Young looked down at his clipboard, and then back to the audience. "Now, with pleasantries aside, would Product Eight please stand?" All eyes moved to the far right, as a fair haired girl stood, walking with her head held high.

As she walked across the stage to him, the toe of her shoe scuffed the ground, and she stumbled. Automatically, her face flushed red as she regained her balance. Mr. Young simply laughed, offering his arm to help steady her. "It's not east being first, is it?" He asked her, to wish she smiled and shook her head. He looked out into the audience with a smile,"May I receive some applause for Product Eight? She performed remarkably well for someone with such nerves." We clapped for the girl, as he told her a story of the Product at his ceremony, who fell off the stage entirely. We all laughed and soon the processions went on.

"Product Eight," He read from the clipboard, "Your name in the Society will henceforth and forever be, Gracelyn Porters, Instructor of the Lower Classes. The Society welcomes you with open arms, as a fellow Citizen." More applause followed the announcement, and with a smile she exited the stage at the left staircase, where a woman handed her a plainly addressed envelop, which will hold all of her now official documents. She returned to her seat, and the ceremony continued.

"Product Twelve," Another boy, who seems in too much of a hurry to get on the stage, rushes forward. He is impatient. "Your name in the Society will henceforth and forever be, Colton Reeves, Construction Designer. The Society welcomes you with open arms, as a fellow Citizen."

Names, numbers, and occupations passed in an unusual daze. It was impossible to remember everyone one of them, but as always, the best jobs had gone to those who received the best scores during testing. The examinations determined everything. With the end of the Products with numbers in the thirties, we had all too quickly approached the end of the line. There was only one in the forties, Product Forty-Seven, who was now named Charlotte.

Mr. Young began to speak, and cleared his throat suddenly when he reached the fifties, apologizing for the interruption. I was curious as to what made him falter, but the small, nearly inaudible laugh right behind me and to my right rang with familiarity. I dared not look, not until my own number had been called, but my suspicions were all but confirmed. Product Fifty-Three had been on the list, but he was not among those in the ceremony today.

"Product Seventy-Four," He announced, and I stood with remarkable ease, ignoring the eyes I could now feel on me, watching the movements I made as I walked up the stage. Mr. Young met me in the center with a smile on his face, and instead of simply announcing me, he took the liberty to shake my hand, something which surprised me. As I turned form him, looking out at the full population of the Society, I was momentarily awestruck. There were many of us, in number, far more than I had ever estimated. "Your name in the Society will henceforth and forever be, Alyssa Shepherd, Birthmother. The Society welcomes you with open arms, as a fellow Citizen."

The title surprised me, yet I took it graciously and smiled at the applause that followed. As I exited the stage, a young women handed me a plain envelope, just as she had with all of the others. It felt unusually light, with a small rectangular object sealed inside, instead of the documents that were customarily there. Regardless, I took my seat once more, and watched as he announced Product Eighty-One.

"Your name in the Society will henceforth and forever be, Scarlette Williams, Technician. The Society welcomes you with open arms, as a fellow Citizen." The smile on Scarlette's face was a fair rival to anyone else's, the pure elation she showed was unmatched. It did not even seem to dawn on her that she had not been selected for the job she hoped for, she was imply happy to be there. I smiled at her happiness, and the way she nearly seemed to bounce like a child back to her seat.

"Congratulations," I told her, and she mirrored the words back to me. With a smile and a nod, we turned our attention back to the stage, where the last few Products were receiving their names and occupations. I noticed, with the smallest of glances, that her envelope was significantly thicker than my own, as was the boy's on my immediate left. Only mine seemed to be lightweight, something I found rather curious.

As the last new Citizen left the stage, applause sounded once more from the Citizens and children of the Society. Mr. Young executed one last bow, addressing the audience as a whole now. "Citizens," he spoke, "I thank you for your patience, and now I am pleased to announce that the ceremony has been completed. Please, welcome the new Citizens while you can, for in a few minutes, they will remain here for further instruction, and you will return to your daily activities. I would very politely advise you to help these lovely ladies and gentlemen in the cleanup of the plaza that they so graciously prepared for us, although by no means do you have to." The last part of his sentence was irrelevant, I noticed. Everyone helped tidy up the plaza, it was customary, but they they still advised that you help.

Seemingly at once, we stood, and in an orderly fashion began to disassemble the ceremony. Chairs were quickly collected, and the stage was brought down in a few moments. I partook as much as possible, assisting in any way I felt I could. In the commotion, I accidentally bumped into a gentleman with his head down. Immediately, I apologized, yet for the longest time he did not look at me. When he finally did raise his head to eye level, I could see the deep mask of black ink he wore deeply ingrained into his skin, and was taken aback.

An outsider.

My emotions changed quickly in those moments, a large mixture of curiosity mixing with horror at his barbaric attempt at artwork, a mark this man would wear for the rest of his life. In the ink, there was no purpose. The tattoo was imply made up of swirls and harsh lines, nearly tribal in appearance. I could not sound alarm, too fascinated by this unfamiliar species of human beings, the ones who could not fit in to your perfect world. He did not move towards me, or away from me, simply scanning my expression with eyes that could not hide the intelligence within them.

Then, as he began to turn and disappear, I felt a presence at my side, one that spoke of familiarity. "Are you alright?" The voice of product Fifty-Three--Daniel, I corrected myself--asked with a curteous convern. Yet before I could respond, he had followed my gaze and spotted the tattooed man. Surprise flickered across his face for a fraction of a second, but it was replaced quickly by an unusual sort of spark in his eyes. "Let's follow him." He suggested quietly, however the absurdity of his own words was lost on him, as he immediately began to follow the man. And I, in my surprise, matched my footsteps to his.

(Hello, Lovelies!

I wasn't originally going to put an author's note here, but I had to recognize two people for the insanity they did for this chapter. KamariSAS and Tessrebellious reconstructed this entire chapter when I, in my moment of shining brilliance, deleted it accidentally. They're totally insane, but I love them for it, and I recommend anyone reading this to give their works a look. They're both beautiful, amazingly gifted writers.

On another note, how'd you guys like this chapter? Somebody from the outside? The scandal! What do you think will happen next?

-Andrea)