The Gingerbread Princess

Little Blurs

I stood in the middle of the sidewalk with the other citizens, waiting for the influencers, or rather, the prince's copies, to destroy the rebels.

"Jewel," the vendor called to me. "Jewel, I have your order."

Miriam is one of the few people who knew my name and me.

I walked over to her cart. "Thank you."

I bought a purple hot chocolate disguised as apple berry tea steeped in coconut water and beet juice that everyone else drank.

"The tea will no longer trend by next week," Miriam said softly.

"It's better than last year's drink of sweetened cabbage water," I said.

Neither one of us knew what the other looked like.

I take a long sip. The creamy liquid brings me joy, but simple pleasures are forbidden unless they are popular.

Miriam slipped a book inside my purse—another guilty pleasure—and I sneaked a book into hers.

The rebel screamed, "I plan to show my real face!"

"Do you think they will hurt the rebel leader?" Miriam asked me.

"It depends how much shame she feels." I finished my hot chocolate and found a silver trash can.

There is a news alert. Miriam and I removed our phones from our matching handbags.

A newscaster appeared. She was one of the few who didn't need a filter, but she still used one.

I thought she'd talk about the rebels, but she didn't. "The Queen of Beauty is raging about her daughter's marriage, but the spoiled daughter, Tina Richard, decided to run. Beauty's ex-husband has granted his daughter rule over herself, but the queen refuses his decree. If you see Princess Tina, her mother will give anyone a 10,000 ruby reward for her capture..." she paused. "The rebel leader might have information."

The emergency broadcast ended.

The influencers always came for the rebels.

The rebels, if you could call them that, turned off their filters and refused to clutch the government-issued handbags and briefcases.

"They are coming for me!" The rebel leader's virtual filter flicked off for a moment. Her face looked very much like mine, freckled and wrinkled.

But she was brave, unlike me.

Each month, the influencers wore a new uniform, and green and black was in fashion.

Last month, the uniforms were gold and pink.

Influencers ran after her, grabbing her for not conforming. They didn't physically hurt her; that isn't how they destroyed the rebels.

"You are awful and evil," one of the influencers said. "But I know you hid the princess."

"She is heading to the woods," the leader said.

"Tina would never go there. Be good and kind. The filters are for your best. Fix your teeth." The influencers hissed at the rebels as if they were snakes and not human beings or fae underneath their virtual plastic surgery masks.

The influencers showed her a new virtual plastic surgery device and strapped it to her purse, all sparkly with different filters that made her face appear younger. It blurred her skin.

The rebel leader tried out different filters. She gave herself a kitten face, but then when they left, she turned off her device and ignored it. The leader winked at me and walked off.

I said goodbye to my friend, Miriam.

Everyone walked with their devices to hide who they were.

No flaws! No reality! Everyone was beautiful but ugly too.

And I loved the filters, so I could hide while I walked down the street; it helped me avoid everyone.

Avoid the ridicule since childhood.

I took the crowded tram to the bookstore, and the clerk pointed to the list.

Every man and woman, regardless of weight, dressed the same and clutched the same books to purchase.

Most were only identifiable by the color of their briefcases and handbags. Even their voices melded together.

"We are all wind-up dolls, and the algorithm tells us what is beautiful or what to read," I whispered. There is no freedom. I purchased my selected books to fit in.

We never find things on our own.

Our lives are curated by the few humans who feed Prince Braun's accounts.

I walked home. It's the same shade of gray as all the other houses, only identifiable by its large, glowing number.

The truth is, I like being a hidden rebel and a blur on the outside.

My home is full of brightly colored paintings, hot chocolate, and books that time has forgotten.

I turned off my filter.

He ran to me and kissed me the same passionate way; he'd kissed me for fifteen years.

Inside my home, my husband saw the real me and loved me even in my brokenness.

I don't want the world to find me beautiful or ugly, but I want people to like me for the person I am, my friendships, my art, and my writing. A pen name the prince hasn't found yet, stories that rebels spread.

My husband saw through everything.

A woman knocked at our door, and I realized it was the princess and not the rebel leader.

I allow her to come inside.

Her curls framed her face. "I'd rather swim in garbage than marry the prince my mother chose. He can keep this kingdom," Princess Tina said.

My husband handed her a tent. "She has a trap for this terrible prince. He'll be unharmed, and this will save our kingdoms from war."

"But Braun is our prince," I whispered. "Will this really rid his influence over us? His mathematical algorithms still control everything."

"Not at first, which is why we need to help her run. The bride we have in mind for him is so vain she will not force all filters." My husband kissed me. He always saw through me.