Chapter Text
Guess it's time that I tell you the truth
If I share my toys, will you let me stay?
Don't wanna leave this play date with you.
-Play Date (Melanie Martinez)
The dolls peeked their faces out from the mansion's windows.
Louise´s housemates were terrible gossips, and whenever new toys arrived, they loved witnessing the magical moment of the unboxing. Honestly, most toys enjoyed watching new companions arrive.
Louise remained sprawled across her bed, just in case Mary Anne's parents happened to glance toward the dollhouse and spotted a collection of eight imported dolls blinking in unison from the windows and balconies.
Ha. Louise would be the only survivor of that damned bonfire of plastic and lace.
She grimaced when she heard a squeal from her window and immediately hurled a cushion at Jodi's head to shut her up.
—Do you want to die? Shut up! —Louise muttered.
Jodi barely glanced at her before excitedly bouncing in place and tugging on Abigail's arm. The two clasped hands, grinning like idiots.
—They're so handsome! —Abigail whispered, barely containing her excitement.
Jodi sighed dreamily, resting her cheek in her hand.
—Look at their medals...
A shiver of discomfort ran through Louise's body at the doll's embalmed expression.
God, how she wished she were biologically capable of vomiting just so she could ruin the moment.
Still, even Louise, with all her apathy, couldn't fight the natural curiosity that came with being a doll. She ended up shoving the two aside to peek through the window herself.
—Come on, Mary, open your present. —the mother said, holding the box while the little girl struggled to tear away the wrapping paper.
Mary Anne sat on the floor beside her parents. In front of them was an enormous Barbie-themed gift box. A month earlier, for her fourth birthday, Mary Anne had received the complete Barbie movie collection, and ever since then a new obsession had been born. Her favorites were The Nutcracker and Swan Lake.
Louise hated the menu music.
She had even tried, unsuccessfully, to scratch the discs.
Unfortunately, they were excellent quality. Mary Anne's family never cut corners when it came to gifts. Now, thanks to endless hours of playtime and constant movie marathons, Louise had become something of a ballet expert. And, unfortunately, Mary Anne had cast her as the princess.
Much to Chloe's horror. Chloe insisted she was prettier and far more qualified for the role. Not that she could complain to the child herself. So, she complained to Louise instead.
Now, watching the focused look on Mary Anne's face as she opened the box of toy soldiers, two thoughts crossed Louise's mind. The first and, to her surprise, was that the dolls hadn't been exaggerating. The soldiers really were attractive.
Their coats gave them a distinctly masculine air that Louise found annoyingly appealing.
The second, and far more important thought: Soon they would be forced to reenact all the dancing scenes with their new partners.
Louise groaned loud enough that Jodi and Abigail immediately slapped their hands over her mouth.
Mary Anne's parents didn't react. They were far too absorbed in their daughter's excited babbling. However, one of the soldiers, in a spectacular display of poor judgment, glanced toward the dollhouse and winked at them.
The other dolls covered their blushing cheeks.
Louise raised her middle finger and slammed the windows shut.
That lunatic wasn't going to survive a month in this house.
.
.
.
Louise eyed the gun strapped to the soldier's back, sorely tempted to steal it and put an end to her suffering. Instead, she kept her sweet smile in place and remained still while Mary Anne tried to fit the soldier's hands around her waist.
It was incredibly uncomfortable.
Even more so when she caught the idiot suppressing a grin.
Crack.
Louise's eyes widened at the strange sound. She glanced down at her dress. It wouldn't have been the first time the fabric had torn, but the noise hadn't come from her.
The sound had been metallic and judging by the pained grimace on the soldier's face, it had come from him.
Louise felt his fingers tighten around her waist a little too hard and pressed her lips together to keep from yelping. Instead, she took advantage of Mary Anne turning around to pet her cat and stomped on the soldier's foot. Now he was the one biting back a yelp.
Mary Anne walked over to the television and climbed onto her little stool to reach the power button.
As always, the Barbie menu was already waiting on the screen, and the girl selected Swan Lake. Louise rolled her eyes and threw her head back dramatically.
The soldier let out a quiet chuckle.
Louise shot him a dirty look.
—What's so funny, you idiot? —Louise muttered.
The soldier looked surprised and briefly glanced toward the little girl. Mary Anne remained completely absorbed in the opening credits.
—You shouldn't talk like that around a child. —he whispered reproachfully.
Louise scoffed. —Then shut your stupid mouth. Better yet, go tell her parents on me.
—What's wrong with you? You're rude.
—Did I hurt your feelings, Corporal?
The soldier straightened his posture and squared his shoulders, making sure to emphasize the difference in height between them.
Louise thought it looked ridiculous, it reminded her of the peacock toy Mary Anne had once plucked bald. That had been a painful thing to witness and Louise blinked the memory away.
—I'm a Captain.
Oh, right. She was arguing with the soldier.
Louise came up with a brilliant comeback but never got the chance to deliver it because Mary Anne returned and picked them both up. The main theme from Swan Lake echoed from the television.
Mary Anne twirled around the room, imagining they were the ones sharing a magical dance. In her childish mind, the toy soldier lifted the princess and spun her around gracefully.
For a moment, Louise glanced toward Mary Anne's smiling face.
Her own cheeks betrayed her by smiling back. Louise genuinely liked her owner.
Unlike the other girls (those filthy preschool friends of hers) Mary Anne played gently and carried Louise everywhere she went. Louise was one of the few toys in the room who could proudly claim she'd visited a water park and explored the inside of a Pizza Hut playground.
She supposed she was beginning to care about Mary Anne.
A strange sensation brushed across her skin. Louise turned to look at her dance partner.
He was watching her with a surprisingly soft expression. Suddenly uncomfortable, and feeling her cheeks grow warmer than usual, she reached up and yanked a strand of hair from the back of his head.
His brow furrowed as he glared at her…
...Perfect. She liked that expression much better.
—Now kiss! —Mary Anne exclaimed, pushing the soldier closer to Louise.
Louise's eyes widened in alarm but she didn't resist when the girl pressed their faces together.
And she could have sworn she felt the soldier's lips move against hers.
.
.
.
The bedroom doors were closed, and the soft murmur of conversations had faded away an hour ago. Louise opened the balcony door and stepped outside, making sure all the toys were tucked away in their boxes or locked inside the toy chest.
She was about to do something that required privacy.
She ran her hands along the railing, searching for the ribbon she usually used to climb down, but couldn't find it. Then she remembered.
Earlier that morning, Chloe had been wearing a lovely updo secured with a ribbon that looked suspiciously identical to her escape rope.
—That bitch. —Louise muttered, glaring toward Chloe's window.
She leaned against the railing and considered her options. There weren't many and she was in a hurry.
In less than an hour, the porcelain cult would begin reorganizing themselves and pretending they hadn't spent the entire day doing exactly that.
Louise sighed and climbed onto the railing.
—Well, here goes nothing.
She crossed her arms and threw herself backward. Falling through open air was a pleasant experience. The gentle tickle in her stomach. The cold anticipation in her hands as she waited to smash into the wooden floor. The breeze tousling her beautiful hair.
It felt wonderful to be alive.
Right up until something stopped her abrupt collision with the ground.
—Are you insane? —asked the same blond soldier, shaking her.
Louise's head bobbled like a rubber toy, and amid the chaos she managed to focus on his face.
—What's your name? —Louise asked, punching him in the chest.
Pain shot through her hand. The soldier didn't even react, and that was an insult to her pride.
The soldier blinked in confusion. —I'm Logan... Why?
—Oh, I just need to know what to write on your tombstone if you don't put me down this instant.
Logan immediately set her on the floor and took a step back.
—Seriously, are you out of your mind? Why would you jump like that?
Louise rolled her eyes. —Touch me.
A faint blush spread across Logan's cheeks. His gaze flickered between her dress and her face. Growing irritated, Louise grabbed his hand and placed it on her exposed shoulder.
He tried to pull away, but she held it there.
—Feel that? I'm plastic.
Logan nodded. His thumb brushed lightly across her shoulder while he stared at her with an almost dazed expression. Now it was Louise who stepped back.
Logan lowered his hand awkwardly and fumbled until he found the strap of his rifle.
—I thought you were porcelain.
Louise shook her head. —Why?
—You're very pretty.
Before she could stop herself, Louise snorted. Then a laugh escaped her. A small laugh that quickly turned into full-blown cackling when she saw the confused look on Logan's face. She had to grab his shoulders to keep from falling over.
The laughter left a warm feeling in her stomach.
—That's incredibly discriminatory. You're basically saying only porcelain dolls can be pretty.
Logan didn't answer. Louise noticed one of his hands still hovering near her waist, as though he wanted to touch her but wasn't quite brave enough.
She looked up and found herself staring into a pair of handsome green eyes.
He looked oddly uncertain and Louise fluttered her eyelashes the same way the other dolls did whenever they wanted to convince the teddy bears to help them.
Logan inhaled. Immediately choked on the air.
And coughed. —Do I need to apologize?
Louise shook her head.
—Just go away. This is my night hour.
She gave his shoulders two little pats and tried to push him away. He didn't budge an inch.
Louise ignored him and focused on turning on the television. Logan followed behind her.
—So what exactly are you planning to do? Howl at the moon?
—None of your business.
—I'm curious.
Louise turned toward him. —Do you know what happens to curious toys around here?
—Should I be worried?
—We rip out their stuffing and hang them from the window.
Logan raised an eyebrow. —You can certainly try.
He tapped the metal breastplate of his uniform. —I'm made of metal.
Louise pressed the power button and selected the movies' bonus features, searching for the Swan Lake soundtrack. She hummed along to the music while waiting for the playlist to begin.
Setting the remote down on the carpet, she turned around…
…and walked straight into Logan's chest.
—Are you some kind of pest? What do I have to do to get rid of you?
Logan shrugged. —It's my first night here. I'm bored.
—Then go to sleep and leave me alone.
Logan raised his hands and took a step back. —Good night to you too.
Louise watched him disappear into the ugly tent the soldiers called home.
Then she took a quick lap around the room, making sure Mary Anne was asleep and that the toy chest was closed. Otherwise she'd have to eliminate the witnesses to keep her dark and embarrassing secret safe…
...Louise liked dancing.
Realizing that had been shocking. She'd spent an entire week in denial.
Now she snuck out in the middle of the night to dance. It was safer, Mary Anne's parents could sleep through an earthquake and even if Mary Anne happened to catch her dancing across the carpet, Louise was fairly certain she could convince the girl it had all been a dream.
It wouldn't be the first time she'd fooled her.
The opening notes began to play. Louise lifted her arms above her head and spun gracefully on the tip of one foot. Halfway through the turn, she noticed Logan.
He was leaning against a table leg, arms crossed, watching her with a soft expression.
Louise extended one leg toward the sky and brought her hands to her chest. She walked on tiptoe, her hair swaying behind her.
In the reflection of the mirror, she noticed Logan was still watching. Heat crept into her cheeks. She pressed her lips together to keep herself from smiling.
Was it strange that his gaze made her feel good? It looked as though he was admiring her.
Most toys usually looked at her with a mixture of fear and annoyance but she couldn't really blame them. She was a genuine little menace.
Louise continued dancing, pretending the soldier wasn't there. When the final song came to an end, she brought her hands to her shoulders and gave a small curtsy.
A faint round of applause sounded behind her.
—You're still here? What are you, a stalker?
Logan smiled, refusing to take the bait.
—Just enjoying the warm welcome.
Louise smiled too.
Maybe... She'd found someone who could keep up with her.