Pretty in Plastic (l.s)

i

"I'm so sorry for your loss," the last family friend mumbles to Harry and Gemma, "call me if you need anything."

"Thank you." The siblings smile softly, and close the door behind the woman. Gemma huffs, and sits on the couch with a box of tissues by her.

"Do you know her?" She asks, and Harry shakes his head. "Neither do I."

"Gemma," he whispers as he stares at the rug, "what're we going to do?"

"She had a will. We're meeting tomorrow to read it." Gemma mumbles, and Harry clenches his fists. It was just so unfair. "Harry, it hurts."

"I know, Gems." He sits next to her, and holds her. They both cry as the silence of the home swallows their soft sobs. "I know."

————

Harry sighs as he shuts the door to his little apartment, and tosses the keys on the dining table. He kicks his shoes off, sheds his coat, and heads down the small hallway to his bedroom.

"There you are," the sultry voice mumbles from the mangled sheets, "I was wondering when you would be home."

"You missed the funeral." Harry ignores her as he goes to the dresser, and removes his watch and rings. "I was expecting you there, and you never showed."

"Your mother never liked me."

"I needed your support." Harry spits, and the woman tsks at his tone. "You just proved to my entire family that you aren't what I need."

"Oh, Harry," she purrs as she sits up, "you know I am, though. Isn't that what matters, baby?"

"No." He says, and he rubs his face. He turns to the woman in his bed, and watches her. She was in her undergarments, no doubt in a plan to distract Harry from her absence at the funeral, and her hair was tied in a high bun. Her skin glowed nicely in the evening sun that shined through the blinds, but it was nothing Harry hadn't seen before. "Listen..."

She rolls her eyes as Harry undoes his cuffs, and rolls his sleeves up. He eases himself onto the bed, taking his spot on the bed as his knuckles graze her soft cheek.

"You've been by my side for about two years now, Kala," she hums at his words, "but I will never put a ring on your pretty finger so long as my family disapproves of you."

Her loving gaze turns hard within seconds, and she clicks her tongue before pulling away from him.

"I left my family for you." She grumbles and slides the drawer of the night stand open. Harry watches as she pulls out a pack of cancer sticks (also known as cigarettes but that's what he calls them, anyway). "You won't do the same?"

"Family is all I have."

"We could have our own." She purrs as she lights a cigarette. Harry shakes her head as he lays on his back.

"Take that outside." He snaps, and she stands despite her challenging stare.

"Don't be so upset." She runs her nimble fingers through his hair as she leaves.

—————

"That's bullshit!" Harry screams as he stands. Gemma reaches for his hand, but he just pulls away and stumbles back. The lawyer watches him with a calm stare, and locks his fingers together on the table.

"I apologize for the outburst." Gemma whispers, and the lawyer mumbles that he understands. Harry watches them with a crazed look, unable to process how they were so calm.

"What're you doing!?" He screams at his older sibling, and she swallows. "We grew up in that home!"

"We have no use for it, and it would sell for a lot of money."

"Screw the money, Gemma!" Harry throws his hands in the air. "Mom left you the home so no one else would have it!"

"She left me the home because she knew I would do what's best." She stands, and straightens her shirt out. Her hands were shaking, but she keeps a calm composure. "And selling it is the best option."

"Give it to me."

"No."

"I can take care of it."

"No, Harry."

"Gemma—"

"I said no!" She shouts, and Harry flinches. It goes quiet, and nobody looks at each other. Gemma takes a deep breath. "You can go through everything before I sell, pick what you want to keep."

"I pick the whole house." Harry whispers as he holds back tears.

"You can't have it. That's final." Gemma grabs her purse, and fixes her hair as she collects herself. "You have spare keys, go when you're ready."

She leaves, and Harry runs a hand through his hair before clenching his fists. Its unfair.

————

The steps creek as he walks up the narrow stairs. The single lightbulb shined onto the wood and dusty boxes. Everything was either packaged or covered, but it all had a space of its own with a clear path for walking.

"Always neat." He whispers as he steps onto the attic floor. "Everything had a place..."

He was here by himself and he didnt bother to tell anyone. He was still agitated with Gemma about selling the property, and Kala was just a pain in the ass recently (or had she always been?). He already walked through the home, placing things in the boxes he had bought himself. Unlike his sister, he wanted what he could have of his mother because he wanted to remember her. He wanted her with him.

Now all that was left was the dusty attic that held childhood memories.

He spent hours looking and sorting through items: books, pictures, clothes, baby items, and toys.

"Oh," he wipes his eyes (he isnt sure when he started crying) when he picks up a small doll in pristine condition, "I remember you."

The doll had a warm smile on its face, and its stiff body was positioned with the arms and legs smooshed in. Its hair was plastic, but Harry always remembers telling his mother that it was the softest ever.

"You were my first big-boy toy, Lou." He mumbles, grips the doll. Louis, the doll's name, was a Ken version for feminine boys. Harry has always been a bit feminine, according to social standards, and his mother got him Louis to help him cope with that slight difference.

Louis, unfortunately, never gained much traction on the market so this little doll- rare and now a collectable- was worth a fortune. Harry would never sell it though.

"I think I'll take you home with me." He whispers.

————

"Just get out!" Harry shouts as Kala rolls her eyes. She takes a drag of her cigarette, and flips Harry off.

"You're so sensitive." She grumbles, and blows out the smoke before scoffing. "Fine, I will go. For now."

I wish it was forever.

"Good." She giggles, and blows him a kiss.

"See you soon, my love." She leaves and Harry looks at the box on the floor by the closet. Kala had seen the doll, and laughed at him. She mocked him, questioned his manhood, and saw no value in the plastic figurine.

It upset Harry because Louis wasnt hers to judge, or value. He was Harry's, and Harry found much to appreciate about him.

"She doesn't know what she's talking about." He huffs, and picks up the doll. "You're very important to me right now, I'm glad I found you and that mom kept you."

He bites his lip, and sighs. "I wish I had the guts to leave her, but I can't. She knows me when I don't know myself. I need her."

I wish someone supported me.
I wish someone really loved me.
I wish I really loved someone.

He sighs, and puts the puts the doll on his night stand before getting ready for bed. For the first time in nights, he slept by himself.