Work Text:
It should be simple. Perform. Bow. Smile graciously. Leave.
It never is as simple as it seems. Brooke is an attention whore. This she blames on being the youngest child.
Her thotty instagram posts and lewd performances she blames on the lack of trade on tour.
Her habit for breaking the heart of any man she comes in contact with she blames on her parents not modeling love the right way.
But she also blames it on herself.
Twice is a coincidence, thrice is a pattern. And the pieces of broken hearts that she uses to stone her shoes are beginning to lose their shine.
It never is as simple as it seems. It should be.
Get on a famous reality competition show. Check.
Do the best. Check
Win.
Fall hopelessly in love with someone you hardly know in a matter of weeks. Check.
Wait-
Not in love.
She was not in love.
No way.
That tightening in her chest was just nerves. The butterflies were just worries. The inexplicable urge to hold him close and never let anything hurt him ever again…was just…loneliness…yes, that’s it. Loneliness.
A perfectly reasonable, and not crazy thing to feel. Everyone felt lonely sometimes.
But Brooke wasn’t everyone. She didn’t feel things the way normal people did. She was stone cold. Impenetrable. The Ice Queen. No one got to her.
She was so fucking fragile she almost broke from the breeze on her skin.
It was horrible.
She had closed herself off from feelings years ago. She had learned at a young age that they only bring you disappointment.
So feeling nothing at all, except maybe a nicotine high, was preferable.
It was controllable.
It bended to her will.
It wasn’t scary and unpredictable.
It wasn’t sudden and all-consuming
Feeling nothing, gave her power.
Over other people, yes. But mostly it gave her power over herself. Her weaker self. The one that felt those disgusting emotions. The one that read poetry, and listened to sad songs on the radio, and fell in love with a man she hardly knew because she felt like it.
To become the best, she realized, she had to hide all the things that made her weak. Feelings and emotions had no place in her life. So, they had to go.
but-
No.
but
sometimes
at night
or early morning
before the sun had yet to make itself known
she would miss-
No.
She would miss him.
But only then.
Not other times.
Not when she ate or slept or talked or danced or cried or smiled or breathed.
but sometimes at those times too