The young miss squared her shoulders as she walked singularly on the red carpet amidst deafening applause and standing ovation. Flashes of light from cameras as keyed up as their owners bombarded her eyesight from left and right. With her mirror-perfected smile in place, lips pursed as practiced, and eyes squinted to the memorized dimensions, she reveled in the attention.
The Master of ceremonies bowed over her hand and led her up the podium. She waited with patience for the cacophony of voices to die down.
She cleared her throat and spoke to the energetic crowd gathered for the ceremony. “Success is a function of identifying your enemies and overthrowing them.” Even if she couldn’t perfectly reproduce Jane’s voice, nobody would really notice, after all, sound systems weren’t flawless.
A murmur ran through the hall at the opening sentence of the speech of their hallowed Best Graduating Student. Of course they were expecting something more academic, more refined, but Judy was going to give her speech however way she liked it. She wasn’t Jane.
She was Judy, and it wasn’t her fault she was born a few minutes after Jane, and never measured up to Jane no matter how hard she tried. And nobody could blame her if the enemy she overthrew to attain this success wouldn’t recover from being drugged until the entire ceremony was over.