Chapter Text
There was only ever one Ken for you, but he was in love with stereotypical Barbie and you were in love with him. You’ve been meaning to tell him, but every night was girl’s night and every night you watched him try to retain Barbie’s attention for five seconds while being so oblivious to yours.
But the more you longed for his attention, the more it made your day worse. The clothes in your barbie house were faded, the music wouldn’t play and your favorite cake never ever tasted like chocolate anymore.
It was beginning to eat you away, this feeling, one you had never experienced before. One that grew worse with having to see Ken be miserable.
You wanted to draw closer to him, to comfort him and it was odd. It was never a Barbie’s job to worry about how a Ken felt, but it made your day just to catch his gaze and when he flashed you his signature smile, there was nothing better.
“Come on, dance with me.”, you took his hand as he sulked in the corner watching backflip Ken dance with Barbie.
“I don’t feel like it.”, he mumbled but the cold sensation of his hand in yours, if made that feeling worser.
You swayed clutching the side of your head and you were sure this was going to be embarrassing, as you fell to the ground in front of this crowd but a solid frame embraced you.
“Are you alright?”, he held you close like he did with his surfboard he never used, the only two objects that could love him if he let it.
You huffed a laugh, trying to apologize but before you could pull away, you felt his fingers tilt your chin towards him. His eyes glimmering a tone of blue that all this felt real for a second. The worry in his voice, the noise muffled in the background and the warmth in his touch. Maybe you were imagining it but maybe he was dealing with the same feelings as you.
“Shall I call for doctor Barbie?”, he asked creasing his pretty forehead.
“No.”, you whispered lost in the stillness of it all because you could only admire him as he fussed about stereotypical Barbie.
“Can I stay here for a while?”, you asked, your fingers wanting the trace the glossy gleam of his skin.
His lips parted and for a second your hopes began to soar, in this illusion that he would say yes. He leaned in, almost as if he was seeing you for the first time, as though he was thinking this through. But his eyes turned distant as he looked behind you, his intrigue turning into a frown as he sat you down.
“Sorry, but I’m needed on the dancefloor.”, he said. His attention now not on you as you watched him join the coordinated dance.
Your eyes longing for him but his was reserved only for her.