The Cinderella Agreement (Completed) [Featured Story]

10: The Idealism of Beauty

yay; double digits!

THE NEXT DAY, Mit felt novel.

Not in the sense of becoming a whole other person, or the intense change of bearings that an athlete would experience after injecting himself with steroids, but instead, wearing your best shade of lipstick on a particular day, or finally clearing up the last of your acne, or showing off your newly waxed legs with that cute little gown that always made you feel pretty.

You'd still be the same person, and you'd still look more or less the same, but confidence goes a long way, and even though she looked comparatively the same, she felt like she was the best thing that had happened since cable television.

Her hair was shorter now, and insubstantially so, only cut about two to three centimetres to get rid of pesky split ends, and for the first time in forever, it fell perfectly straight from her scalp down to her shoulders, each side tucked into the backs of her ears, framing her face like a dark thready curtain. Her lips were even a little less chapped today, courtesy of the lip balm she had managed to put on before leaving the house, and she was wearing her best pair of denims, just for the heck of it.

A wind blew past and carried several strands of her hair, playing with them with its invisible hands before departing as quickly as it had come. Mit re-tucked her hair, silently praying that the humidity in the air was low enough for the safety of her hair-do. It was the beginning of September, and summer was taking its sweet time as it bided goodbyes to the warm atmosphere and thermal lakes, reluctant to allow autumn take over. For this reason she had left her coat at home, but wore on a thin fleece sweater just in case the weather decided to do an about-face.

As the subway station neared, she began to take out her Metro pass, simultaneously avoiding clusters of people that walked past her during the morning rush. It got a little tricky once she was on the escalator, and with just a sliver of luck she managed not to trip over and break her neck.

Finn was waiting by the terminal for her already, leaning against one of the sturdy columns at a fair distance from the bustle of people. Usually, he went to her house/neighborhood first and then they both detoured to Dunkin' Donuts before heading to the subway station, but he had overslept today so she had volunteered herself to get the pastries solo.

"What happened to you?" queried Finn, staring at her the way that one would at a person that suddenly sprouted an extra head, or a pig that spontaneously lifted into flight.

At first, she was confused, scared that her fly is open or she was wearing her shirt backwards (again), until he gestured to her head and she visibly let out a breath of relief. "I'm experimenting a new hairstyle. Remember I went to the mall yesterday?"

Finn went to test it between his fingertips, fondling the strands slowly before letting them flutter downwards. "It's soft," he said experimentally, as if his mind was still processing that his friend's hair was even capable of being soft in the first place. "You're actually marginally presentable today for once," Finn laughed, and she whacked him in the side automatically.

"You always know what to say," Mit replied cynically, not waiting for him before she boarded the awaiting train. Although she knew that he was joking, she felt self conscious towards her appearance just as swiftly, her armour of confidence chipping slowly away until it was nothing more than a shameful heap piled at her feet.

That was the thing about words; they could either lift your spirits or break them, and we almost never knew the true effects of them, like Finn didn't know the effects of his.

Her teeth dug into the corner of her lip, as they always did when she was nervous, and she tasted a bit of the strawberry flavoured lip balm she had put on this morning.

As if sensing her edginess, Finn gently nudged her in the ribs. "Hey, I was just kidding. You know that, right?"

"I know...it's just that..." her voice trailed as she tried to organize her thoughts out loud in the least pathetic way, and she hesitated before continuing. "It's just that, now that I think of it, maybe some people will see my hair and expect something different and better from me, but then I'll turn and they'll be disappointed at the sight of my hideous face."

"You're not hideous; who told you that?"

"Just Sam and Reece and Paris and Aimee and me and even you, even though it's only 'jokes', right?" Mit wanted to say, but swallowed down her words, along with a bite-ful of her caramel glazed donut. She liked eating around people because it gave her an excuse not to speak, because it filled in the spaces where conversation became too strenuous and frustrating.

Her knee knocked his as the train continued to shake as it ran over its rails, and the space was quiet, save for the frequent rustle of turning newspapers and the babble of early morning small-talk.

"I just wish," Mit started to talk again, her voice so low that she herself barely picked it up, although it seemed like Finn had no trouble in hearing it because he turned his head and listened attentively, "that society doesn't put on a standardised version of beauty. That everyone could be considered beautiful no matter what they looked like, but just in the ways that they were unapologetically themselves."

"Even Dorothy?" Finn joked to alleviate the tension after a pregnant pause, and Mit cracked a small smile.

"Especially Dorothy."

He mirrored the upturning of her lips, but then the expression falters as a thought crossed his mind. "You're awfully deep this morning. And you've been acting weird lately. Anything the matter?"

"Ah, it's nothing. I'm sorry," she said, but it wasn't the kind of apology that he understood. It was not, I'm sorry that I haven't been honest with you lately, and for being spastic, but I'm sorry that I'm not better, that I'm not talented or smart or pretty or reliable, like the ideal best friend that you should have, that I'm a mess and a hypocrite, because a minute ago I wanted to be considered beautiful for being unapologetically myself, but look at me now, fumbling with apologies intended for all the wrong reasons.

"I'm sorry," she said again—expertly mustering up a crooked smile, although her voice broke just a little in the middle—just as soon as the train stopped.

Are you liking the story so far? Who is your favorite character at this point? What do you think of Mit?