Chapter Text
Thin lips stretch wide across the brunette-haired woman’s face, revealing a straight set of perfect yet almost artificial white teeth.
A stamped, plastic smile (too wide to be any form of genuine) is printed on the woman’s face. She directs it forward, only to be met with the same sickly smile in the vanity mirror before her. She puffs her foundation powder on her face, particles flying up into the air.
Pacifica Northwest is only six years old and barely taller than her mother’s vanity table as she leans over it, her eyes darting across the tidy array of miscellaneous make-up items: crimson colored lipsticks, various shades of blush and eye-shadow, neat rows of eyeliner pencils, tools that looked like they would cause a certain degree of discomfort. Pacifica coughs.
"Pacifica, honey, darling, you know it’s rude to cough without covering your mouth first,” The woman speaks, never breaking her gaze from the mirror. “Do you know how dreadful your mother would look if she got sick?”
"Sorry, mommy," the blonde’s eyes shift back down to the table, "the powder makes my nose and throat itch."
"You should try to refrain from coughing in general, it’s unbecoming," Her mother swirls her brush into the rosy pink tray of blush then applies to her cheeks. "You are a Northwest. You aren’t anything like those other animals that you refer to as classmates; coughing and sneezing and touching things with their dirty hands. Even for the most prestigious, private institute your father and I could find in all of Oregon, we still have to worry about you getting sick," She traces her lips in crimson, "The last thing I need is for you to get sick."
"I won’t! I don’t take handed out foods, like you and dad said to. I don’t let the other kids touch me."
"Smart girl," Her mother says, "Do you have your ballet clothes packed?"
"Yes."
"Just wait after school for your chauffeur and he’ll take you straight to ballet lessons."
"Okay," Pacifica nods, twiddling her thumbs nervously before speaking again, "Mommy? Are you going to be there to watch?
"Watch what, dear?" The strong scent of cloves fills the room as the woman sprays her wrists with a heavy perfume.
"My ballet lessons. Are you and dad going to come watch me?"
Her mother laughs.
"Oh Pacifica, of course not! Your father and I are going to the opera tonight and we can’t make the show if were at your lessons." Her mother motions the girl to move behind her handing off the two end hooks of her silver necklace to her. "Now be a dear and hook mommy’s necklace, you’ll need to get to school soon."
What?
What?
“What do you mean the Pines twins are leaving today?” Pacifica Northwest, age twelve, yelled into the receiver of her cell phone. “Are you kidding me right now?”
Pacifica would admit, her own reaction to this news surprised her. As much as she didn’t intend on it, the twins had grown on her a bit and as far as she was aware, they hadn’t planned on leaving until the end of August. She had been making progress with them, something about hanging out with the twins made her feel different, especially with Mabel, who had always managed to find a sense of kindness in the face of Pacifica’s harsh words. And as much as she felt embarrassed to admit it, she wasn’t ready for them to leave yet.
She wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
“Yeah, family emergency I guess, or at least that’s what their creepy uncle keeps telling everyone,” Her friend replied from the receiver. “Good riddance, am I right?”
“Tiffany, I gotta go.” Pacifica replied, flipping her cell phone shut. She sighed.
“I gotta go say goodbye.”
“Hey Pacifica, I’m glad you could make it over!” Mabel said, smiling ear-to-ear as she greeted the blonde at the door, allowing her to step inside the shack.
“Yeah, sure, it’s whatever. I mean, I figured this was better than nothing since Rebecca had to cancel her plans…”
“I made you something for our sleepover,” Mabel smiled, shoving a folded sweater into Pacifica’s hands. “I had some leftover yarn, so I figured I’d knit a sweater for you. It’s hot pink!”
“I- I love that color,” The blonde widened her eyes, the emotion she felt was odd. Gratitude? Was that the right term for it? She held up the bright, pink sweater in her hands. “You made this… for me?”
“Well duh! Why would I have given it to you, silly?” Mabel said with a laugh.
She didn’t deserve that sweater. She had done nothing to deserve that sweater.
“Mabel.” Pacifica lifted her eyes from the sweater in her hands.
“Yeah?”
“Th- th-” She needed to spit it out. How come ‘thank you’ was so easy for everyone else to say? “Th- this will look nice on me.”
Another laugh from Mabel. “Of course it will! You’re the most stylish in town, after all.”
“Yeah.” The blonde said, her voice falling.
Even such a small bit of kindness on Mabel’s part brought her at a loss, Mabel knew she didn’t deserve anything from her, not after everything she had put her through. But here she was, holding a sweater in her hands. She closed her eyes and took a breath.
“I don’t really say this a lot, but th- thank you… for this.”
There was a beat, a second too long, and she noticed Mabel’s expression change, a softness in her eyes, her smile less goofy and a bit more sincere.
“Of course, Pacifica. You’re my friend,” She said, patting the blonde on the back. “That’s just what friends do.”
Friends? The word struck her, a blow to the back of her head.
She was her friend.
Mabel Pines was her friend.
“JEEVES!” Pacifica hollered as she sprinted down the staircase of her mansion.
When she finally reached the first floor, her calves burning, she stumbled out the door into the large garage of the family cars. Her chauffeur, who was relaxing in the front seat of Pacifica’s own personal limousine, lifted his head from the book he had been reading as he witnessed the young blonde girl stumbling and heaving as she pushed her way out the door, charging toward him, her face more worried than angry (as it usually was).
“Jeeves-” Pacifica started, breathless, “I need you to drive me to the Mystery Shack- now-”
Jeeves nodded as Pacifica hurried into the car, revving up the engine as the garage door opened, peeling out of the driveway at the first opportunity.
Due to the town’s size, the trip wasn’t too long. Still, time seemed to move slower as the blonde found herself sitting still, unsure if the twins had left yet or not. Her heart seemed to beat faster and the nervous feeling in her stomach was getting to her, she was too anxious to even check her phone.
Please let her still be there.
The plea seemed empty to her, Pacifica didn’t even realize the word ‘please’ was in her vocabulary.
She felt the car slow down and the unevenness of the dirt road under the tires, she looked out the window as the car finally stopped.
pleasepleaseplease
Shaky feet found the ground as Pacifica opened the car door, hurrying inside of the Mystery Shack. Pushing her way through the small group of customers inside and up to the register, who a familiar red-headed girl was working at.
“Um… can I help you?” Wendy asked, confused by how urgent the look on Pacifica’s face was.
“The twins- are they still here-?” The blonde blurted out, still catching her breath.
“Mabel and Dipper?”
“Yeah- yes- are they here?”
There was a moment where Wendy hesitated, seeing the look on Pacifica’s face, she knew what she was about to say next was not what she wanted to hear. She took a breath.
“I’m sorry-
no
their bus left about twenty minutes ago.” Wendy said, her heart heavy, the sudden departure of the twins took all of the town by surprise.
nononono
she feels her knees hit the floor the tips of her fingers numb her body faint the crowd seems to grow even closer around her suffocating her she can’t breathe she can’t breathe and she can’t tell anyone why she can’t let them know she cared she cared she cared the cashier’s lips are moving but she can’t hear anything
i can’t breathe i can’t breathe in here
i couldn’t even say goodbye
-Four Years Later-
The school bell rang and the hallways were soon filled with teenagers, hurrying themselves in a swarm out of the high school. Pacifica stayed behind in her last classroom, there was no way she was going to squish herself into that filthy mob. She was above that. She had always been above that.
Her English teacher glared, as always. Her face was so ugly, Pacifica thought, a crooked nose, eyebrows that looked like hadn’t been plucked in years. It was torture having to watch her teach all year.
She glared back at the teacher.
“I could buy and sell you.” The blonde spoke slowly when she met her eyes, the words dripping out of her mouth like venom from a viper’s fangs. That woman knew who she was, everyone did. Everyone knew Pacifica Northwest. And if they didn’t, they would soon enough.
The teacher stopped glaring and returned to her paperwork, she knew starting anything with someone like Pacifica just lead to trouble on her end, her father had ties to anyone in power, he knew people and people knew the man was loaded with money. And money always, always made problems go away.
She looked out the small window of the classroom door, waiting as the crowd thinned and the halls grew empty before she checked her phone, knowing the teacher couldn’t do anything about it since school was now out for the summer. It was the last day of the school year, after all. And people would have to be stupid not to think Pacifica wasn’t planning on throwing the biggest party in town.
Gonna drown my sorrows in that wonderful Patrón tonight.
She stood up, her eyes still on her phone as she grabbed her bag, and pushed open the door with her free hand.
The hall was empty, papers and trash littered the floor that her heeled footsteps seemed to echo against, halting as she opened the front glass doors and was met with the blaring midday sun. She flipped down the sunglasses resting on her head, straightening her tank top before continuing.
Jeeves was waiting for her, she knew that. But he could wait in that car longer, she didn’t care. She turned the corner down the street she was picked up on and took a shortcut down a nearby alley, out of her chauffeur’s sight.
Taking a breath, she fumbled around in her bag before finding her lighter and pack of Marlboros, picking out a cigarette and placing it delicately between her lips as she lit it, the disgusting smoke invading her lungs.
She hated smoking, but it gave her a sort of satisfaction, defying her parent’s perfect image of her. It was angsty, it was immature, she knew that well enough, but she couldn’t care, she couldn’t. The cigarette felt so right between her fingers as she took another drag. Even if defiance tasted this terrible, she would still be asking for seconds.
The death stick burning in her lips, she felt her phone vibrate and pulled it out of her bra, flipping through the new texts from her friends. Expendable friends. Suddenly she saw the screen change as one of her friends seemed to be calling her at that very moment.
“Rebecca calling…”
She rolled her eyes and answered the call.
“What is it? I’m busy setting up for my party right now.” She tapped a few ashes off the cigarette with her finger before taking another drag
“Pacifica, you won’t believe what I just heard from Trisha.”
“Who’s pregnant now?” Pacifica gave a short laugh.
“Nobody, as far as I’m aware, but I heard from Trish that Brittany told Emma who told Jessie who told Courtney who told Samantha wh-
“Rebecca, just shut up and spit it out. I don’t have all day.”
“Fine. Remember those freaky Pines kids from a few years ago?”
Pacifica coughed at the words, smoke spilling out of her nose and mouth at the very word Pines. Not them, why them? Anyone but them. Anyone who couldn’t make her vulnerable. Anyone.
“What about them?” The blonde finally responded once she caught her breath, her eyes watering a bit from her coughing fit, trying to keep her composure as she asked such shaky words. Why did her heart feel like it was racing again?
“They’re back in town.”
Pacifica felt the cigarette slide out of her fingers, hitting the ground in silence.