A Sharp Pain Behind the Eye

But I Make These High Heels Work

It's late right now, and I scratch at my eyebrows. My fingertips softly brush against the raised scar above my left eye. My hands linger on the smooth scar for a few seconds before I trail my fingers down my face. I remember the day i acquired the scar. I was three years old, and just learning to walk. I was running around, a bumbling toddler, when I tripped over the knotted root of an oak tree. My parents rushed me to the hospital to see if I was okay. It turned out I had a slight concussion. It wasn't that bad, it just slightly affected my vision, so I wear glasses now. "Brendon, stop touching your face! You'll mess up my masterpiece!" whined Spencer. I sigh and place my hands on my lap. "I'm gonna make you look like a star, honey!" I just roll my eyes, which makes Spencer groan in displeasure. I glance at the mirror and check out my appearance. My brown eyes are rimmed in black eyeliner, my lips painted red, and my eyebrows penciled in, covering my scar.
"Hey, Spence, would you mind smudging that eyeliner a bit?" He grumbles, but obliges. I shove him away so I can put my contacts in.
"You'll mess up my makeup!" he cries, and I ignore him.
"Stop bitching me, man," I snap, to which he frowns. His frown quickly turns to a smile as his eyes light up. Spencer reaches for the pair of platform heels on the floor next to me and drops them on my lap. I just stare at them for a few seconds before I sigh in defeat and start to put them on. Spencer starts cackling. "Oh, shut the fuck up, man," I mutter, which makes his cackling reduce to giggles. "How long do I even have to wear these?"
"Two months, baby," he chuckles, which only makes me even more pissed than I was before. He straightens his pink chiffon skirt and looks me up and down. "You really do make those high heels work," Spencer purrs as he pulls me to my feet. "Ready?"
"Yeah," I hoarsely whisper. I run my hands through my hair and clear my throat. It's showtime.