The Way Stained Glass Shatters

Mouse

A young girl sat alone in her tent, humming along to a tune that played from the music box beside her. She only ever felt peace when the soft music played. It was melancholic and repetitive, but familiar. It was the only thing that reminded her of home.
She looked at herself in the mirror in front of her. She looked so tired- so worn. For a girl whose life had only existed for twenty-two years, she felt she had lived one-thousand more.
She wasn't happy, but where did happiness have any play in business? She had a job to do, money to bring in. That's what mattered. The money came first.
The music box slowed, before eventually stopping completely. The girl sighed, standing up and brushing herself off.
The dress she wore was in poor taste. It was short, and was sewed to look like it was in tatters. It barely went to her knees. She felt so exposed.
"Body sells," Veil had told her.
She knew better than to argue with him. She had too many bruises to remind her what happened if she did.
"Viviette," A woman whispered, coming into the tent.
She was older, but she wore her age well. You could tell she wasn't one of the performers. Her clothes were too plain, her burgundy hair always too messy. She was rather plump too, but Viviette loved that most about her. She was soft, and kind, with warm brown eyes to match the warmth she brought with her.
"Don't tell me," She uttered. "I'm not supposed to go on for another hour, Delphine."
Delphine shook her head sadly.
"I don't want to," Viviette whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. "Delphine, I don't want to do this anymore."
"Mousey!"
The voice was like glass being jabbed into her veins. Her blood ran cold, her hands getting clammy. She had never hated a man more than she hated this one.
"Veil," The girl said, feeling as his hands wrapped around her. "I'm sorry, but I'm in the middle of getting ready. Can this not wait?"
She winced as she felt his embrace tighten. Not upsetting him was like walking barefoot on egg-shells- impossible, pointless, and painful.
"Out, Delphine," Veil growled.
The woman did as she was told, but it looked like it pained her. Viviette knew it did.
"Don't want to do this anymore," He let out a dry laugh, his lips uncomfortably close to her ear. "Mouse, did I hear that right?"
She shivered. "No, sir," Her muscles tensed and her eyes squeezed shut. "I'd never say that."
"Liar."
Suddenly he had Viviette by her hair, forcing her to look up at him. She screamed, trying desperately to get away from him. He grabbed her jaw with such a force she feared he would break it.
"Let me go!" She yelled, grasping onto his wrist.
"You forget yourself, Viviette!" He brought her face close to his, but the girl could make out no features.
"I have forgotten nothing!"
"I have given you everything, yet you wish to throw it away! All for what?" He let her go, and she stumbled back, gasping.
"I want to go home," Viviette spat, arms crossed and nose upturned. "If I had known this is what my life would have become, I never would have gone with you."
"You're a spoiled brat. You have fame, you have fortune. You'd give it up because it's not to your liking?" He jabbed his finger into her chest. "I took you away from that mess of a city. Your soul belongs to me."
She smacked him away. "My soul belongs to no-one, Veil!" She fumed. "Especially not a pathetic and money hungry bastard like you!"
The man raised his hand and met her cheek with a sting, sending her to the ground. Her face hit the dirt and she groaned, her head now throbbing.
"You're a whiny little bitch. I should have left you there to rot."
"I should have let my skin bubble and fester before I ever thought of looking your way," Viviette hissed, slowly picking herself up. "You're a cowardly circus freak, with nothing to his name but a few tents and borrowed wages. If I was regiven the choice between you and the rats," Her doe eyes met his with such a rage, they felt demonic. "I'd choose the rats."
Veil's foot came crashing into her stomach, sending her flying backwards. He said nothing else, leaving her in agony. She vomited, the pain excruciating. She feared he may have cracked a rib.
This was it. She was done with his traveling charade. She didn't care if it killed her. She'd willingly welcome death if it meant freedom.
"Vivi?"
"Don't," Viviette growled, sitting in her own sick.
The boy stood above her, mid crouch. "Don't push me away," He said, touching her back.
"I said don't, Pierre!" She shot back, swatting his hand away. "Don't touch me."
Pierre stood straight, scoffing. "You can act like a lady sometimes. It won't kill you."
Viviette stood up, wiping the vomit off her face. She walked past, bumping into him as she did.
"That's disgusting," He muttered, following her. "Keep your composure, Mouse."
"Call me that again," She whipped around furiously. "It'll be the last time your tongue utters any word."
"Can you just get yourself cleaned up? We're supposed to go on-"
"I'm done, Pierre. I mean it," She grabbed her head, running her fingers through her hair. "I am not doing this anymore. Veil will find you a different partner. For now, you can go on alone," She smiled, though dryly. "You've done it before."
The ginger boy was silent. His freckles connected as his face contorted with mixed emotions. Anger, sadness, frustration. He wore it all. He watched as Viviette turned her back to him, towards her water pail.
"I love you."
Viviette froze. The hairs on her neck stood straight, chills running up her spine. A small laugh left her lungs. It was breathy and forced. She didn't turn around. Her hands clenched to fists and she laughed again, louder now. More frantic, like she was losing her mind.
"Don't laugh at me!" Pierre grabbed her by her shoulders, forcing her to face him. He faltered.
She was sobbing. Through her loud and aggressive laughter, tears poured down her face. It felt like she was losing it, every root of her life was being unplanted and thrown to a storm.
"Are you insane?" Viviette shouted, pushing away from him. "You come into a girls tent after she's been beaten to humiliation and confess a nonexistent and obscure love-"
"I do love you."
"Shut up," She gritted her teeth. "You, and everybody else, are a bunch of condescending, money hungry, gargoyles. You make me sick. All of you."
Pierre shook his head. "You don't mean that," He rested a hand on her face. "You know you don't mean that."
"I said don't touch me!" She laid hands on him, shoving and shoving, wanting to push him over. "Touch me again, and I will make sure you leave this tent blind!"
"Okay!" He held up his hands in surrender. "Okay."
Viviette was shaking. Her body felt disgusting. She wanted to scrub and scrub until her flesh separated from bone. She wanted to grow a new body, one neither of them had ever molested. A body that danced just for her. And nobody else.
She let out a shaky sob, wiping the tears from her face. She was dirty, her head was throbbing, and her lungs stung. She could still taste the blood and bile in her mouth.
Pierre stood, just staring. She knew he wouldn't leave. He never left. Not without a fight.
Viviette made her way to exit the tent, limping as she did. She was going to find Delphine, and then she was going back home. She swore to herself she would find a life that was more stable. Something she wouldn't wake up and regret.
No more regret.
"You'll be my wife one day Viviette, I swear it," Pierre whispered, stopping her in her tracks. "I won't take no for an answer."
She looked back at him, opening the tent's flaps. "You just did."