#we love u mirage this is just jane being jane

[mappingthesky]

burning through you - part 4

hi bbs <3 here's part 4 of the werk room drabble, which I am now calling 'burning through you' as it is turning into a lengthy fic! i'm very proud of this chapter, i hope you love it as much as i do <3

Day Five

By the fourth smirk Morphine gave her that morning, Jane was about ready to smack it off her face. 

She’d been in a bad mood since the main stage the night before. Something about Morphine catching a glimpse of her in a moment of uncommon softness had Jane feeling like she’d been caught. Like an animal in a trap, she was about ready to gnaw her fucking leg off.

She had settled for gnawing at Amanda instead, which was all too easy. Jane was bothered and Amanda was there and looking like that. Could anyone really blame her? Besides, Jane needed to maintain her reputation, if only to Morphine.

Jane considered her bitchy remarks the balancing out of her brief stint in vulnerability. Amanda was merely the victim, looking busted at the wrong place at the wrong time. Of course, Amanda was oblivious to this, and made the rookie mistake of taking anything Jane said personally. Morphine’s jaw hitting the floor just barely made the argument worth it. Jane got bored of talking in circles very quickly, and fuck, Amanda could talk.

Jane knew it wasn’t fair coming for Amanda like that. Her real gripe was with Morphine, the only one here who knew Jane in the outside world. Whatever inexplicable emotional hold Nymphia was developing over Jane may not yet be noticeable to anyone else, but she worried her friend may be more sensitive to Jane’s subtleties than the rest. She’d be damned if she would be discovered as having a weakness. The thought terrified Jane. If anyone else was to catch a glimpse of her panic, a fragment of her discomfort, it could undo the illusion of herself she'd so carefully built up. Embroiling herself in a feud had seemed to Jane ample testament to her toughness, yet there was that same, knowing smile on Morphine’s face the next morning. Seeing it, Jane was suddenly all too aware of the girl in the yellow hoodie hovering somewhere over her right shoulder. She silently cursed whatever force kept bringing them together.

Morphine had suggested they work together in the challenge that day. Jane shut them down fast. That wiped the smile off Morphine’s face alright. Jane would feel bad later, for now she was keeping her friends far, far away.

Working with Megami was strategic, and not just because Jane was confident she could out-perform her. Megami had been sitting beside Jane when Nymphia had elicited Jane’s first defensive response towards her. She would consider crushing her in this challenge to be damage control.

Jane ended up having much more fun than she thought she would. She enjoyed losing herself in a character. It reminder her of why she was here in the first place. She emerged from line-reading feeling lighter. It occurred to her then that she hadn’t thought about Nymphia in a suspiciously long while. Weird. Glancing around the room, Jane spotted the girl reading lines with her group. She sat with her knees to her chest, tongue working the inside of her cheek. The expression on her face was hard to read- not quite panic, but certainly not the confidence she’d exuded the night before. Jane felt a pang in her chest.

They were two of the last girls in the room that night for different reasons. Jane was having fun embellishing her character, while Nymphia was rehearsing hers in twelve slightly different, increasingly frantic fonts. Jane found herself striding across the room for the thirteenth.

“How’re you doing sister?” she said, knees brushing against the couch, unsure if she was welcome to sit. Nymphia’s sigh was half a scream as she stretched her long arms.

“I don’t knowwww,” she whined, and let the script fall to the empty end of the couch. Jane accepted the invitation.

Jane scanned the room for Sapphira or Plasma. “Where’d the others go?” 

Nymphia shrugged and picked at her nails. “They said I’m fine. But. I’m not feeling it yet.” She sighed and started rubbing her eyes. “I think they think I’m being dramatic. Or something.”

Jane scooped up the script and flipped to the lines highlighted in yellow.

“Show me what you have so far.”

Nymphia whined again, hands over her face. Jane knew from experience what faking it looked like. She didn’t think it looked like this. Neither one said anything for a long moment.

“This isn’t my thing,” Nymphia finally mumbled from behind her hands.

Jane was glad she couldn’t see her smiling. “Yes it is. You’re acting a fool half the time you’re here. C’mon, read with me.”

Nymphia finally peered out from between her fingers, then dropped her hands. She groaned and sat forward, her knees brushing against Jane’s where they sat criss-cross applesauce on the couch.

“From the top,” Jane began.

Day Six

Morphine was still not talking to Jane, even though they were sitting side by side at the mirror. Jane knew how to apologize, a surprise to most, she just didn’t want to have to explain herself in this particular situation.

She didn’t have to. Nymphia skipped over to Jane’s station not long before they were set to film. She was humming when she hugged Jane from behind, long arms wrapping around her waist. Nymphia was a hugger, as Jane was begging to understand.

“Thank you Jane,” she sang, nestling into Jane’s neck all too comfortably. “For last night.”

“Feeling better?” Jane asked as nonchalantly as possible, pretending not to notice Morphine’s eyes burning a hole through the mirror. 

Nymphia nodded, unwrapping herself from Jane’s waist, “mhm. Thank you.”

Nymphia hovered for a moment, watching intently as Jane smoked out her black eyeshadow. Her hand reached out to ruffle through the hair of Jane’s platinum blonde wig, expertly disheveled for that just-fucked look. Nymphia, as Jane was not quite getting used to, was bad at keeping her hands to herself.

“You look good blonde,” Nymphia quipped, then turned on her heel and scampered away.

Morphine’s tongue popped. Jane pursed her lips and pretended she wasn’t blushing. 

“So is this why you’ve been a bitch to me this week, huh?” Morphine at least had the decency to wait until Nymphia was out of earshot. 

Jane scoffed, and smudged the corner of her red lip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Morphine just shook their head.

“Can’t believe you let her call you Jane. Bitch.”

-

Jane hadn’t been able to watch Nymphia’s skit, but she wasn’t surprised when she was called safe. Nymphia hadn’t needed the help. The girl had more than enough silly to go around. All she had needed was a little push. Still, there was something about being there for her that made Jane feel good inside. Nymphia mouthed another completely unnecessary ‘thank you’ to Jane as she scurried from the runway, her face glowing with pride. 

Jane joined Nymphia at the back of the stage not too long after. She tried to stand as far away from the girl as possible, because oh my god Nymphia was practically naked on the runway and her body was ridiculous and suddenly she didn’t know how to act. Nymphia did not seem to have the same concern. 

Nymphia’s perfectly manicured press-ons were flitting through the white feathers dancing at Jane’s sleeves, her mouth in a perfect O as she ooooh’d. “Pretty,” she whispered. A pause. “You look sexy in dark hair, too.”

Fuck.

Nymphia’s commentary made it hard for Jane to keep a straight face at the back of the stage. She was funny, or maybe Jane was just incapable of keeping herself together around the girl. Either way,it made Jane want to launch herself down a flight of steps, and then they were dancing to ‘Dark Lady’ and Jane was having fun. And then suddenly it wasn’t so fun anymore, because Mirage was standing at the end of the stage and dissolving into tears.

Jane could physically feel the energy in the room change. It ripped the air from her chest. Mirage was openly sobbing, and Jane felt hot tears spilling down her own face. The world, which had felt so very bright mere minutes before, was suddenly tinged with cruelty. Mirage, naive and messy and spitfire-sweetheart Mirage, was practically crumbling to pieces before their very eyes, and Jane felt she was looking reality right in its ugly face. It could be her, she thought to herself, it could be anyone. She felt Nymphia shaking beside her.

The moment seemed to drag on unbearably, and then Mirage was waving goodbye and the girls were trudging back through a darkened hallway, the heavy silence punctuated by breathy sobs and shaky gasps for air. Jane wasn’t sure who had reached for the other first, just that she was holding Nymphia’s hand and it felt like the only right thing to be doing in that moment.

The pair paused just before the light that filtered through the doorway. Virtually everyone had to collect themselves before passing into the next room, wiping the mascara from their cheeks and taking deep breaths. Morphine passed by, briefly leaning in to offer Jane a half-hug and a whispered ‘I love you’. Their gaze flickered to Nymphia for a moment, a look of concern crossing Morphine’s face before they disappeared into the next room.

Nymphia’s breathing was hard and heavy. Jane didn’t know why she asked Nymphia if she was okay. She knew what the answer was. Nymphia looked like she was searching for the right words, but nothing came out. Jane squeezed her hand.

“I know,” Jane said, “it’s okay,” It wasn’t, but its all she had. Nymphia nodded through tears.

Jane lifted her free hand to press the wetness from Nymphia’s cheeks. “I’d say don’t cry, it makes you ugly. But.”

Nymphia sputtered a laughed through her tears. Jane didn’t have to finish the compliment. Nymphia knew.

[elevateherja]

The Curious Journey: Navigating Love and Relationships

Dear Diary,

Today, I find myself in a pensive mood, contemplating one of life’s greatest mysteries: love and relationships. It’s quite fascinating how a mere four-letter word can hold so much power over us, evoking feelings of excitement, joy, and at times, utter confusion. As a 22-year-old who has yet to experience the exhilaration of a romantic relationship or the sweetness of a first kiss, I often wonder if love is nothing more than an illusion, a mirage that leads to nothing but pain and heartache. Is it merely a fleeting infatuation born out of teenage hormones, or does it hold deeper, more meaningful significance?  I find myself questioning the true essence of love and the complexities of navigating the labyrinth of relationships. Join me, dear readers, as we dive into this uncharted territory of the heart, where curiosity reigns supreme.

While many of my peers seem to possess an encyclopedic knowledge of love’s labyrinthine ways, I find myself in the peculiar position of observing from the sidelines. As if I’m part of an elaborate social experiment, I watch as others navigate the highs and lows of relationships, decoding the complex language of love while I remain an intrigued spectator. But fear not, for this unique vantage point offers a fresh perspective on the subject that I am eager to share.

First and foremost, I must confess that I’ve become somewhat of an amateur love detective. Armed with my laptop and a trusty Wi-Fi connection, I have embarked on countless late-night expeditions through the vast realm of online dating. Swipe left, swipe right, a match here, a ghosting there; it’s a peculiar dance where the rules seem to change faster than the latest smartphone release.

Yet, in a world obsessed with instant gratification, where swiping right has become the norm, I often wonder if I’m missing out on something magical or simply preserving my own brand of romantic purity. It’s like being the last kid in the neighborhood to discover the secret hideout, both curious and cautious to step foot into the unknown. While my heart yearns for connection, it also craves the authentic, the extraordinary, and the grand.

People often say that love finds you when you least expect it. But how does one navigate this maze without a map?

Throughout the ages, love has been both a captivating muse and a treacherous path. We’ve seen it unfold in the pages of timeless classics like Shakespeare’s plays and Jane Austen’s novels. These literary masterpieces have beautifully captured the complexities of love, revealing its challenges and unforeseen obstacles. And yet, we are none the wiser.  

But I lay blame on the silver screen, that whimsical world of cinema, for perpetuating our romantic delusions. We’ve been fed a steady diet of enchanting love stories, with their passionate exchanges and breathtaking endings. From star-crossed lovers defying fate to hilarious misadventures that leave us doubled over in laughter, movies have become our escape from reality, offering a tantalizing glimpse into the kaleidoscope of emotions that love entails. As I immerse myself in these romantic narratives, I can’t help but wonder how closely they mirror the intricate dance of real-life relationships.

As I sit here, sipping my steaming cup of coffee, I can’t help but think back to my high school days. Oh, the melodrama of those years! Crushes that would make my heart flutter uncontrollably, only to fade away like autumn leaves in the wind. It seemed that every passing day brought a new “love of my life” or a clandestine romance that existed only in my dreams. Looking back, I realize how foolish and innocent those infatuations were, fueled by raging hormones and the desire to be a part of something bigger than myself.

But now, in the throes of adulthood, I find myself questioning the very essence of love. Is it really just a chemical reaction in our brains, a concoction of dopamine and oxytocin, tricking us into believing in fairy tales and happily-ever-afters? Or is it something more profound, something that transcends the boundaries of logic and science?

The star-crossed lovers, the grand gestures, and the soulmates who are destined to be together against all odds. Are these depictions of love merely products of an overactive imagination or wishful thinking? Or is it what a mere person can gain?

Perhaps, dear diary, love is not something that can be easily defined or understood.

Despite my skepticism, I hold a glimmer of hope that one day, I will uncover the true meaning of love in my own life. Until then, I shall continue to embrace the beauty of solitude, relishing in the freedom to explore the world and myself without the constraints of a relationship. Who knows?

So, dear diary, as I close this chapter of contemplation, I do so with a sense of curiosity and anticipation. I must admit that I’m no closer to unraveling the enigma of love and relationships. But perhaps that’s the beauty of it all.

Until then, dear diary, I shall continue to embrace the unknown, revel in the joy of self-discovery, and eagerly anticipate the day when love’s melody will dance upon the strings of my heart.

Yours curiously,

Saint Nick