"Hey Foster! You enjoying that new crown of yours," Keefe taunted. Sophie made of point of rolling her eyes before sitting on the ice blue chair sitting in front of his desk. The room was a giant disaster, because Keefe's drawings and sketches were lazily thrown around. His hair was a mess, and even though he quickly had tried to smooth it when he saw Sophie coming, she could tell that he didn't expect company. His bejeweled crown was standing on top of a cabinet, before he took it down to be polished. "Now Foster," he said, breaking the silence, "don't beat yourself up about it." Sophie was a little confused.
She thought everything had been going according to plan over the past few weeks. The council had been appointed, and she became leader. It was so difficult. Did she forget something? "I saw you glancing at the Fitzter's and my crowns earlier, and I know you feel bad because yours isn't as shiny, but it's FINE Foster. Not everyone can be perfect!" He gave her a wink and she sighed. Sophie's disapproving stare said enough, but she couldn't stifle a small laugh. "Speaking of which," Keefe continued, "where is our teal eyed wonderboy?" Right on cue, Fitz burst through the door. He looked like perfection, although his hair gel was a bit overboard. His eyes darted to Sophie and Keefe sitting together, before he spoke.
"There's that meeting you scheduled now, Sophie," he told her, "everyone's waiting". She and Keefe followed Fitz to where her friends had gathered.