Way Down We Go

Chapter Thirty One

"And, a world exclusive performance, preforming her new song, 'Scars to your Beautiful', this is Scarlett Bealieau!"

The piano started. I looked up into the camera, the stage dark and the spotlight firmly set upon my body, so, with my heart aching, I started to sing.

"She just wants to be beautiful

She goes unnoticed, she knows no limits
She craves attention, she praises an image
She prays to be sculpted by the sculptor" I started, looking for that pair of eyes that I had to rely on to get me through this. Those eyes, all cerulean and bright and beautiful, ones that'd caused me so much pain, so much pleasure. But I had to rely on him, as he had to rely on me.

"So, how are you feeling?" Sebastian asked me. Looking from the window, I looked towards my half brother in law.

"What'd you mean"? i asked.

"You've just left hospital after a massive surgery?" he guessed. "Girl, you just got implants removed and every fucker else you got done removed less than twelve hours ago. How're you feeling?" he asked impatiently. I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, I guess." I answered. "They pretty much drugged me up, so it doesn't hurt. Besides, getting it out isn't as dramatic as getting it put in." I answered, fixing the big glasses on my face and the chunky, knitted blanket on my lap.

"I'm very proud of you for doing what you did." Aylee smiled at me from behind. I felt her arms wrap around me from behind the seat. I smiled softly at her.

"Thanks, Ayl." I answered. "Are you feeling okay?" I asked, knowing full well how sick she got after her treatments.

"Just tired." she answered quietly. "But you're the priority right now." she answered. "There's not much bruising, I'm surprised." she said. I nodded.

"Yeah," I touched the bandages upon my nose. "There wasn't really much to take out, only the implants." I nodded down at my heavily bandaged chest. "I'm okay." I promised, seeing the worry in Greer's eyes.

"It's not that I'm worried about, now that you've pulled through." she answered. "It's those." she nodded to the pill bottles in Kenna's hands. I huffed.

"I'm not gonna take'm all," I answered. "I'm not that bad anymore, I don't even want to do that." I answered. It was true. The hospital'd made sure I took all my prescribed medication as well as some painkillers, so unless the pills I actually needed had miraculously ran out, I wasn't as bad as I could be.

"Good." she answered, not convinced. I huffed, leaning over slowly -trying to play down my hiss of pain- taking her hand.

"I promise, I'm okay." I tried to reassure her.

"We're not leaving you alone," she clarified.

"You're gonna have to at some point," I nodded to the growing baby bump upon her abdomen. "But I wouldn't expect any less." I finished.

"Oh, she don't see the light that's shining" I started to dance with my backup dancers, red, one shouldered gown swaying in time with the swift, side-to-side body rolls. I came back to the mic stand whilst one of the dancers came forward and pulled my curly brown wig from my hair.
"Deeper than the eyes can find it" I ran a hand through my messy, natural, black curls, letting them flow in their natural state. I shook my hair out, letting it fly across my arms and back.
"Maybe we have made her blind
So she tries to cover up her pain
And cut her woes away" two of them came forward, from behind me, with makeup wipes, removing the mask of makeup I wore. Gone was the foundation and powder, the contour and the eyeshaddow.
"'Cause cover-girls don't cry
After their face is made" I took out my own, removing the red lipstick I wore. Gone was the pageantry and the pretend, the mask of fakery. In it's place was just me. And there was nothing wrong with that.