Chapter Text
title from Dollhouse.
"You are a diamond."
Shining in the rust.
The glitter that will give them gold.
Their fortune.
Those words don't make her smile like they used to.
When did that all change?
Everything she now thinks has become so depressing. What happened to the girl who would have begged for this kind of attention, who enjoyed the lights and love, who would dream of this reality?
Where's the happy girl, who danced, and laughed? Laughed so hard that it hurt. The girl who didn't understand pain.
Why did she disappear?
•
"Look into the camera."
She placed her hand on her hip, looking ahead, it was cute at first.
When she was just taking photos for picture day or her mother's Facebook page for her followers' enjoyment but then it became beauty pageants with judges and coaches screaming at her to be perfect.
"Smile, Ryan."
Ryan barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes, as she forced a smile upon her face. The blinding light flashed in her eyes, and she gritted her teeth, as she blinked away the sensation that burned them.
Her mother gave an unamused look, Ryan didn't even look her direction, already knowing the face she was making, as she growled out, "Like you mean it."
She swallowed and smiled again. This time it was more relaxed, showing fewer teeth. It wasn't perfect like her mother wanted, but she seemed to give up as she backed away, shaking her head.
"You ready?" The photographer asked, glancing between them, with furrowed brows.
No.
Ryan took a deep breath, nodding her head.
"yes."
Then the light flashed.
•
Two words she hates hearing:
Normal and Perfect.
What is a normal person? Does that ever exist? Everyone is different somehow.
She hates the concept of it.
She hates how some people believe that if a person is different they're not normal. Or if they dress differently? Or talk, act, or do anything, another person finds unusual, they're not normal.
They see them as an outsider.
They look at them like a disgusting creature, which is odd. Sure, she understands how some people are strange but just because they're different, they treat them like they're not human.
It bugs her more than the word perfect because there is no such thing as perfect.
It's just not real.
Of course, someone can try their best to make something perfect but it's not possible. It's going to have a flaw. There always will be one.
Someone can't be a normal girl.
Someone can't have the perfect child.
•
Her cheeks burn like a flame, and she wonders if her face will ever break apart from how hard she forces it. She thinks one day she will try to smile and her face will rip like plastic.
She would look like one of those weird dolls children fucked up.
Throughout all of her wonders, she smiled, because a perfect smile would get her into perfect places, as her mother would say. Which Ryan thinks is bullshit, why would a smile help her in life? Why is the way she looks the most important thing about her? She doesn't want to believe that, because it sounds stupid, someone a weirdo made up.
She can hate on things all she wants, it doesn't make them less true.
The truth is the world is an idiotic place. And the people who agree with this system must be the dumbest alive, but she won't dare tell Mother that.
"You were perfect out there," an elderly white woman approached her, grabbing her hand. Ryan doesn't pull away like she wants to. Because did she?
She doesn't think she was.
In a fucked up way from the top of her head she can name all of her flaws, all her insecurities without thinking about it. A mindless rant that most wouldn't even understand, and look at her crazy for. They don't see what she sees, think what she thinks. ( You can be your worst enemy but your greatest savior. It's saving her to hate what everyone else loves. ) She nodded her head, clenching her teeth together, as she smiled, politely as she could.
"Thank you."
"I just know you and my grandson would be wonderful together," She said, smiling, Ryan's brows rose, damn, this woman was bolded. Ryan doesn't even know who she is. The brunette hummed, with a tight lip smile, squeezing the hand that was holding hers for too long, "I'm sure your grandson is nice, but I'm in a relationship."
Her smile faltered, "Oh."
The disappointment and disapproval on the woman's face, almost made her laugh. The gray-haired woman cleared her throat, "Well, I wish you and your boyfriend well." Ryan doesn't attempt to correct her, knowing how judgmental all of these older rich people could be.
"Thank you."
The woman looked her up and down, frowning, "Are you sure you're happy? Or, satisfied."
Oh?
"I'm sure my grandson could—," The woman started, her eyes widened.
"Wilder, babe!" A voice shouted, and she had never been happier for that. Both of the women turned to the sound, as a boy, in a graphic t-shirt, and black pants, rushed towards them, with a grin, it was Ben, "Your mom wants you, I think she's about to blow a fuse," The brown-haired boy said, jogging towards her, his brows furrowed, and his finger pointing behind him.
Her eyes widened, slightly, as she nodded, turning back to the elder, who glared at the boy in front of her, "I'm sorry, ma'am, I have to go."
"Nice to meet you," She spoke, hoping to gain her attention. The elder looked Ben up and down, before humming, with an obvious distaste look, soon smiled at Ryan, "You as well."
Ben grabbed her arm, and as she offered the woman a parting smile, he linked their arms, pulling her away.
"She thinks we're dating," Ryan commented, when they were out of earshot, the brown-skinned boy rolled his eyes, he placed his hand over Ryan's, as he pulled her closer to his side.
"No, she doesn't. I'm too gay to seem straight," Ben quipped, grinning, the brunette bites her bottom lip, as she smiled, her grip tightening on his arm.
"We both are."
Ryan swallowed, as he shook his head, "So what did my mother want?"
Ben looks towards her with a sympathetic expression, and worry fills Ryan, he squeezes her hand.
"A lot."
•
"Who did you talk to?”
She asked, as soon as Ryan made it into the private studio, her mother had purchased it because she didn’t want the other girls' bad vibes to rub off on her. Ryan shook her head, wetting her lips.
The brunette raised her head, looking her mother in the eyes, as she spoke, "Mr. Wayne, Dr. Lane, and…” her brows furrowed, “some older woman—," The older brunette raises her hand, causing Ryan’s final words to die on her tongue, Jada arched a brow.
"You didn't get her name?"
You sent Ben in before I could, is what Ryan wanted to say, but all she did was shake her head, digging her nails into her palm, "I didn't get the chance to."
Jada sighed, placing her hand on her hip, looking at her with more disappointment than Ryan understood, "Just them?" She asked, the brunette hummed, and the older woman arched a sharp brow.
Ryan cleared her dry throat, "Y-yes, ma'am."
She crossed her arms, shaking her head, the youngest clenched her jaw, "Why didn't you talk to more people, Ryan?"
She sounded pathetic, as she admitted, "No one would approach me."
Her brother’s loud laugh gains her attention, and as her head snaps towards him, she frowns, he looks like a mess. He had a baggy shirt on and ripped jeans that hangs low on his hips, with a backward cap, which he calls style, Ryan thinks it makes him look like a damn fool. He reeks of tobacco, his smell is so powerful that she catches a whiff of him from around the room. He gives her a nasty look, matching their mother’s so perfectly, "Maybe, you stop walking around like a slut, and acting like you better than everyone, someone would talk to you."
Her eyes widened, and she looked towards her mother, waiting for her to defend her, but all she did was look away like she agreed. Ryan scoffed, straightening her back, "You talking? You sagging all the time looking like a pathetic wannabe."
Ryan rolled her eyes, stating, "Tryna be a gangster knowing damn well we grew up in suburbs."
Marquis laughed, waving her off, "Man, this is why your girl doesn't fuck with you, you always talking too much," He snapped back, hitting one of her sore spots. He knows how mad she gets when someone brings up Sophie.
She crossed her arms, shaking her head.
"This is why your father left you because you always acting like a bitch," She said, already knowing how angry he gets when someone talks about his dad and fucks with his so-called pride.
Marquis jumped out of his seat, surprising his sister, with rage in his eyes, Ryan stepped back, with a blank face, at his strong reaction, not trying to seem as nervous as she felt. His jaw clenched, "Fuck you, Ryan," He cursed her, the brunette rolled her eyes.
"fuck you, Marquis."
His fists balled up, as he walked more into her personal space, the arms around her chest tightened, and she stared at him, wondering if he was going to hit her.
"Ryan, I'll—," He began to growl out before their mother interrupted him.
"The both of you shut up!" Jada, finally, exclaimed, jumping between the pair. Their mother pushed Marquis away from her, then looked at them like they were both crazy, "both of you are out of your minds! talking to each other like y'all ain't siblings."
Ryan bites her tongue, looking away.
“Get out, Marquis,” Jada said, and without an argument, the boy stood up and left, and bumps Ryan’s shoulder, as he does, just for the fucks of it.
The youngest clenched her fist, rolling her eyes, with irritation, Jada shook her head, “The makeup artists are down the hall, the designers are ready for you to put on the dress.”
Ryan nodded, blowing slowly through her nose, as she straightened her posture, “and don’t be mean, fix your attitude,” Jada spat, running her fingers down her shirt, trying to get rid of the invisible wrinkles. She still tries, even though she knows everything is perfect for her.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ryan turned to leave and go to the dressing room, but her mother grabbed her arm before she could, Ryan turned back with a frown. Jada looked at her, with disgust on her face, like she was an idiot.
"And stop acting a damn fool, trying to embarrass me, they could've hear you.”
Ryan straightened her shoulders, her eyes widening slightly, as an apology slipped from her lips before she could even think, "I'm sorry."
Her mother rolled her eyes, "I don't need your apology, Ryan," She growled out, shaking her head, looking at the brunette, with disappointment, "One day you will need to grow up."
She sounded like a child, as the words, he started it, shouted in her mind. She lowered her head because her mother was right.
She was acting immature.
"Don't stoop to his level," Her mother told her, the younger girl swallowed, nodding her head. Jada lets go of her, and Ryan tries not to reach up, and rub her arm.
"You're doing well, but I need better, Ryan."
She nodded again, rapidly. And her mother smiled, and it isn't as soft, or sweet as it used to be, or how others think, no, it's deceiving and cruel. Her smile was as beautiful as a bright rose, with lively petals, until someone touches it, and finds out her thorns were sharper than a blade.
"Now go."
•
She rushed down the hall, and laid her hand on her chest, moving them against it, in a soothing motion, her brows furrowed, as her upper body raised and fell rapidly.
"Why are you crying?"
Ryan raised her head to the voice, her body tensing, but her shoulder immediately slumped, as she looked at the familiar face.
Her girlfriend looked at her, with furrowed brows, a deep frown settling on her lips.
"I'm sorry...it's just..."
Sophie's presence made her feel relaxed enough to spill out her emotions, "I don't know, Marquis is fucking with me, my mom..." the brunette sighed, wanting to rub her hands against her head, hoping to wash away all of the stress, but she doesn't in fear of messing up her makeup, so she clenched her teeth instead, "I think it's all going too good."
She bit her inner lip, "my mother wants me to be better but I don't know if me trying to make it better would make it worse," Ryan explained, scrunching her nose, at how dumb that sounded, she squeezed her eyes shut, "it's stressing me out because I'm so scared that—."
"Are you serious?" Sophie interrupted her, Ryan's brows furrowed, at the harshness in her tone, "You're crying because everything is going good in your life?"
The younger brunette frowns, as the feeling in her chest tightens. She swallowed, "I know it sounds stupid but—,"
Sophie laughed, raising her hands in a wild gesture, "Yeah, it does." Surprising the shorter one again, her eyes widened, what the hell is wrong with her?
"Sophie?" The hurt was visible in her voice, causing the older teen to laugh harder. Sophie shook her head, "I'm sorry but that's dumb. I mean grow up, it's going good so?"
"That's not the point.”
"Oh, the point is mommy wants it better?" She spat out, insensitively, Ryan narrowed her eyes, tilting her head, "What is wrong with you?"
The older girl tipped her head to the side, mockingly, with a frown, "Nothing.”
Ryan stepped away, finally taking a close look at her, her eyes were low and red, she noticed sloppy her stance, how the hand on the wall was the only reason she was still standing. Ryan swallowed, "Are you still drinking?"
Sophie laughed, "I got to be drunk to tell you the truth?"
Ryan stared at her, wondering where all this aggression came from, and why is it towards her. "You're being an asshole, Moore," She spat out, ignoring the sorry-ass voice in her mind, that wants to baby her and ask her what’s wrong.
Sophie grinned, rolling her eyes, as she snapped back, "And you're being a crybaby bitch, Wilder.”
She clenched her fist, like a child, fighting off the tears in her eyes, "Fuck you.”
She stormed away while trying to ignore Sophie’s, well, fuck you too, that echoes through the thin walls of the hallway.
•
"I know this face is going for millions."
Fingers lifted her chin, as if she were a toy, moving her head to show different angles, as her wavy hair lay peacefully on her shoulders.
Millions.
I know her mother loves to hear that.
Her fingers tapped against the handles of the chair.
"those women got nothing against you, Ryan."
Ben’s fingers moved to her cheeks pressing into them, lifting them upwards, creating a smile on her face. "Wearing this face you can change the world, babe," his voice said, she looked at herself.
At the lost sparkles in her eyes, at the smile that didn't look like hers. Ryan scoffed, shaking her head. "Into what? I ain't that powerful to change hell into heaven."
Ben laughed, lightly.
"Well, I didn't say you were a god," He said, pushing her shoulders back and making her stand tall. She was wearing a scarlet low-high dress. She thought it was beautiful, elegant, almost princess-like.
Although it didn't make her feel like a princess, she can't put a name to what it makes her feel.
She stared at herself, she stared at him. Her lips moved downwards, he looked as conflicted as she was, while he stared back.
He sighed, brushing her hair back. "Beauty is a powerful thing, you know." She hummed, having a beautiful face that could get her far in this strange world.
It can get you a fine rich man, as Cora would say, or a woman.
He tilted his head. "this is what you're using it for?"
Is this it?
She doesn't want it to be.
•
"Are you okay?"
She took a deep breath, not even looking up to see who it was. Ryan sniffled, gently tapping a napkin on her eyelids, making sure no tears fell. She gritted her teeth, "I'm fine."
“Come on, Ryan," He urged her to speak, and she shook her head.
He doesn't believe her.
He never believes her.
"La'Shawn..." She warned, and he backed away, with a sigh. He raised a brow, "You told Sophie, right? What did Sophie say about it?"
She bites her tongue because he is a friend, but he isn't hers. She shook her head, and lied, "No—, I don't know... I haven't seen her."
Then she ran away before he could say anything else, like a coward.
•
She hates this part the most.
The waiting part.
Multiple girls stood around her, with their heads raised, silently and sometimes verbally, judging each other, with glares that could kill.
She doesn't hear her name being called, but she could feel it. People's hands on her shoulders, the false excitement, the irritation.
"That's my girl!" Was the only voice she could hear clearly, like the person was talking tried to make sure the whole world could hear them.
She looked around to see two brown-skinned girls shouting louder than the crowd, looked prouder than her family, and was there more than her girlfriend.
She had won.
She smiled, genuinely.
As soon as she was off the stage, a pair of arms were wrapped around her, pushing her towards two bodies. She heard them praising her, laughing with her, not at her, she could feel their wide smiles on her skin, their happiness.
Over their shoulder, she looked at her mother and she wasn't as happy as they were. She shook her head, and walked away, did this mean nothing?
Did she mean nothing?
•
Used.
She felt used.
•
Maybe, she's as idiotic as Marquis said, or as childish as her mother did.
Because hours later, she stood, silently, beside Sophie and watched as her classmates passed by some laughing, some arguing. Desperately trying to ignore the huff that came from beside her, as she looked around.
Stupidly she didn't pull away when she felt her hand being grabbed.
Her palm is being traced.
No, she closed her eyes like a dumbass, thinking about how she shouldn't give in. That she shouldn't have let her go easily, but then she blamed herself, and said it was her fault.
Instead of cursing her head for the idiotic thought, she thinks Sophie was right.
Ryan agrees and thinks it was stupid to cry about and she should've controlled her emotions better.
She sighed and laid her head down on Sophie's shoulder.
She thinks she deserved it.
Like an idiot.
•
She's a doll.
A person who walks around mindlessly fulfilling everyone else's dreams.
Does she know what she dreams of?
Or does she dream of what people believe?
She puts herself in others' pools of emotions and she drowns herself into their thoughts without even understanding her own. She lets herself suffocate not even thinking to raise a finger to grip the walls around her?
Why? She doesn't think.
She was never allowed to think, never gave herself the chance to think.
She doesn't even think it was her decision for her to drown. It was chosen, everything she knows was chosen. The way she talks, walks, thinks and sits. She is not herself (who is she?), She is controlled, a puppet in everyone’s game.
So what does this make her?
A robot?
Since this isn't human.
She doesn't consider herself a human.