The Institution

O' Grady

She walked in here unlike any of the other posh Society women, but that didn't make her special - it couldn't. Because I couldn't afford any other distractions, not when there were so many others counting on me.

But goddamn her and those lips. She didn't dress like the others - act like the others - speak like the others. It was as if she'd been f*cking bubble wrapped and transported here just for me.

Would a taste really be that bad? Even if she belonged to someone else? Even if she was already paired in their never ending breeding program?

Grace

I feel his eyes on me wherever I go. He's there watching - waiting - caring. And when I go to bed at night, it's not the man assigned to me that I think about, it's him. Even if he's an impossibility - a pipe dream. Because what good is the imagination if not for dreaming. He's not anything like the man my parents chose for me. He's kind - built - crude - and funny. He's everything I shouldn't want, but…