Work Text:
He couldn't rip his eyes away from the bathroom mirror as he prodded and pinched at his face with disgust. Dark bags hung under his eyes from the years of sleep forgotten, and the start of stress wrinkles forming on his forehead. He didn’t even want to think about the acne that littered his face, some only scars. In his eyes, he thought he was ugly. So hideous that it made him want to puke his guts out from disgust.
His hands resumed their quick pace on adding the foundation over his skin, over the mistakes he has under it, as tears started to prick at the corners of his eyes. But he couldn’t cry. Not now. He couldn’t show that he was weak. That he was a baby. That he couldn’t protect anyone because he wasn’t a man. And besides, the foundation was too expensive to ruin with his tears.
He thought about adding on eyeshadow, maybe even a light coat of lipstick. But he knew he couldn't. The others would think he’s strange if he were to do that. What man wore makeup anyway. None, that’s who. So he just stuck with the foundation and small drops of concealer on each undereye and acne spot.
He was dreading having to leave his room. Not only was he a mess in appearance, with his hair in a tangled mess of knots and body aching from his last battle protecting another prince from the Dragon Witch. But his second night of brainstorming ideas had been a waste as well. He had nothing. Nothing for the fans. Nothing for the other Sides. And, more importantly, nothing for Thomas. Oh god, there were the tears again. He sniffed quietly, but still did not let the tears fall. He couldn’t cry when there were still ideas to think up and produce.
He knew that it was ridiculous to wear a prince costume. The others laughed and thought he was a joke when he wore it. He’s heard what they’ve said behind his back, whether it be the Sides or the fans. Logan can say his ideas are illogical and stupid, and he can believe it. Patton can say he was being mean, or that he was a bit unrealistic (he knew that Patton was just trying to be nice, bless his heart), and he would have to believe it. Virgil could say that he was annoying, that he was overbearing, that he was an egotistical selfish moron. And despite everything in his being telling him not to, he has no choice but to believe him anyway. Besides, why do any of them have a reason to lie.
Flattening out his blood-red sash, he frowned. As a prince, he had to be brave. To be strong. He couldn’t show any weaknesses or that he needs the help of others for his own selfish needs. He needed to be a hero. As an actor, he had to do all the same. But, as in the word, he had to act. Act past everything. Put on a mask to cover all his insecurities and the ways that their words affect him. A mask that would show who he really wanted to be, no matter how fake. And no matter what, he will never let that mask fall. It can crack or slowly lose its color. But it will never completely break. He would rather die than let it.
So that means he has to hold the tears back until night when he knows that the others are asleep. It means that he has to live with the overbearing thoughts himself. It means that he has to slowly fall out of the body that he had used to love so much in the past. But it will all be worth it when he’s accepted. When the fans love him completely. So when Patton calls him down for breakfast, he forces a bright award-winning smile to himself in the mirror, ignoring how fake it is as he puts the mask back on. Actors have to act. And everyone knows that Roman is the best actor out there.