The World Only We Exist

Anya

It's dark.

My surroundings are so dim that I can't even see my feet. Besides my heart racing, I can hear voices from every corner, chanting my name in syllables.

An-ni-ya

An-ni-ya

An-ni-ya

An-ni-ya

The darkness is replaced by a thousand spotlights and I can finally see my feet wearing those pink glittery heels my mom bought me before the show and the pleated skirt of my pink and black split-colored dress. A familiar tune started playing and the chants grew louder.

It's time Anya, you can do this.

I managed to look up due to my heavy big blonde wig. I saw thousands of people filling the stadium, screaming my name and how much they love me. I want to shout it back at them but my line is about to start so instead I just put on a little smirk and started singing.

The crowd went wild when I sang the first part. I swayed my body with the music and moved to different corners of the stage for each of them to see me. As soon as the chorus hit, the crowds sang along with me.

"This is who I am

This is who I am

You cannot change me

This is who I wanna be"

What an irony, I thought. This is not what I want-this is not me. But I have to keep going.

"This is who I am

This is who I am

I will always stay true to myself

And be me"

After that, backup dancers entered from each side of the stage wearing high-waisted panties and half cup bras, both with different pink and black patterns so they would match my short-sleeved and collared latex dress. As the beat hit, we started dancing, my fans then started screaming, some my name and some just aah~ while waving their merch and flags and signs.

Seeing my fans enjoying my performance made me feel happy but I can't get over how I felt like I'm lying to them. I'm singing a song about being myself while pretending to be someone else. As much as I hate it, I have to keep going. Aniya,-I thought to myself, again-you will get through this.

Someday.

>< <> <> ><

The show has come to an end-at last. The back-up dancers, make-up artists, and the rest of the staff decided that we should celebrate the success of the world tour and congratulate ourselves for the hard work we put in to make this show awesome. This is something I did not expect-reaching new heights, performing on stage, and becoming a worldwide hit artist with a sold-out concert?! This is my huge dream!

Except this is not me, nor what I wanted.

I thanked the staff for being such sweethearts before I headed out of the back door. Just opening the door slightly, I can already hear roars and screams from outside. Though I couldn't see what's happening because of the backs of two big and buff bodyguards blocking the view. I did not mind it because I've been doing this for years. I stepped outside and closed the door. Although I'm still facing the door, I can see the lights flash so bright and quick that I'm afraid if I turn around, I may have a seizure. But still, I turn around. The two bodyguards that once blocked my way have stood beside me and now I saw crowds of paparazzi and fans waiting for me to show up, most have their phones ready to take pictures. Although exhausted, I flash my brightest smile because I want them to be happy as well.

I carefully took a step forward as my head moved from left to my right. The whole sidewalk is almost filled. It feels like I'm Moses in the sea of people, where the red carpet in between them is the only thing parting it. I can hear their screams growing louder and louder every step. I am looking straightforward, trying to ignore the non-VIPs who are struggling to reach their merch out to me due to the barricade and other bodyguards blocking their way. I can hear the clicks of the cameras and my fans saying things like "Anya, I love you~!" or with curses "Gosh Anya I fucking love you!" everywhere. I thought of turning my head and saying them back but before the words left my mouth, the bodyguard to my right stopped me.

"It's the queen's orders, princess." Uck! The way he called me a princess. My emotions must've been painted on my face because then the same bodyguard stated: "It's for your safety, ma'am. She just doesn't want you to get hurt."

The end of the carpet led me to a pearly white limousine, which is not like the very fancy and expensive one like the Ferrari we had in America. It is more like the one they use at weddings, which I'm not complaining--a simple Toyota car could work really. The bodyguard to my left opened the door to the car. I turned around and stared at my loyal fans one more time, seeing their faces lit up and screaming endless I love yous made my smile shine brighter. I opened my mouth to say something but again, the bodyguard that was on my right pushed me inside the vehicle a little too hard that I stumbled a bit. I glared at him and he let out a soft sorry. That's when I finally stepped in and sat down at the black long chair near the door. The two guards then rode after, their heavy weight caused the vehicle to sink and shake a bit.

I was looking through the window the whole time since I've sat down, watching tons of my fans waving and screaming at the limo. Although they are struggling from the hands of enormous beasts, they still have the biggest grin on their faces. I smiled, sadly. I guess they are just like me too.

"You don't have to look dramatic," I look up at the familiar voice sitting on another long chair opposite me. "There are no cameras." She said this like she's a British woman with a sweet angelic voice.

"That's not what I was doing-"

"Well, you're pretending like you're in a music video!" She said as she pulled out a pressed powder and dabs the powder puff on the foundation then to her face. I can feel the car drive off, the fans squeals slowly fading.

I can kind of feel my face turn sour but try to hold myself back. "Not all I do is for my career mom-"

"Hush, my child. I'm trying to focus." She's now putting eyeshadow on her eyelid, still holding up the pressed powder to use its mirror then put it down on a long dark oak table. She then pick the lipstick up from the table and press it on her lips. She then noticed that I was staring at her. "Oh honey it's alright--I know I'm beautiful"

I rolled my eyes in annoyance and turned my focus back to the sidewalks and buildings. I shouldn't have given attention to an attention-seeker. Now I'm not sure if I should be proud of hiding my sneer expression.

Honestly, I never wanna be a pop sensation. Although I performed with so many other pop artists, I won't say it's the best experience for me. I want to be in a band--as in a rock band. I want to write songs about being gloomy, angry and how to fight against the evils in the world. Just be a badass but for a good cause, you know? Because rock is not always sad and 'emo.' Rock is empowerment. It's all about standing up although you're already beaten down, fight although they gave you a million scars. It's about not giving up and not giving a shit while doing so. I've written songs about my deepest and sincere thoughts that I soon want to let out in this world but there is just one problem: my mom.

My fans always tell me I have a cool mom, and I convinced them and the media that she is. But this was all part of her plan.

After she found my songbook, she told me she'll make my dreams 'come true'. I was excited as a 12-year-old but as I grew up, I started to realize that these dreams are not meant for me.

My mom is rich and has a lot of friends from different fields so she called the ones connected to the music industry and signed me a contract. When I saw the studio, I was thinking this is it. My dreams are finally coming true. But then she told me to write something different. I should write a song about happiness and love because "No one will ever listen to a song so gloomy and dark--it will just make them hate the world we live in" and so I did. She keeps ordering me what to do and being so young at the time I obeyed, trying to be a good daughter. I'm living in a dream, but not mine.

"So," I said, still staring at the window. "You still let them call you 'Queen?'" I hear her laugh, sweet and soft in the ears, but when I turn to look, there is a slight smirk if you just look a bit closer. "And you also keep doing that posh voice?"

"Oh honey," she laid her eyelash curler on the table softly with the other cosmetics she had.

"Mom, there are no cameras anymore. You can stop now." I said it sarcastically, half wishing she could get pissed off.

"Honey, it's not an act. It's just what I have got used to." Yeah, mom, posh English in America? "Anyways," she changed the subject quickly. Instead of listening, I sighed and stared back at the window showing me a few street lights and trees that are almost camouflaged in the dark. "Ani~" she cooed but I ignored, too tired to care. I'm just waiting for what she's gonna say next. "Aww~ Anya's really tired at the moment Companyans~" I look back at mom and she's holding her pink gold iPhone Xs up, its 'eyes' felt like glaring at me. "So you all can just talk to me while I let my daughter sleep in preparation for the concert on friday~" I assume the camera is back to her now because she was smiling as she was saying this. She pointed at the phone and winked. "See you soon~" and then she dropped her right hand, where the phone is, on her lap.

"Is that live?"

"No," she said while looking at her screen and tapping around it. "It's just for my Instagram story."

"Then cut me out of it."

"But baby~ You cannot delete a part of an Instagram story~" I rolled my eyes in annoyance. "And also-" she faced her phone to me and showed her stories of me just staring in the distance for a few minutes. Some are just pictures and some are videos with captions only she thinks it's funny--damn I forgot I'm still wearing this stupid wig. I checked the views and it already reached millions. "Oh, sorry honey~ I should've asked for your permission. But it's alright because I'm your mother, right?" I just rolled my eyes, many times already. "And there's a bright side of this anyways! Your fans are commenting that you look stunning! And they also can't wait to see you again on Friday!"

"What's the occasion on Friday?" I have to ask. I don't care if I finally laid my full attention to her because I have to know what's coming for me.

"Silly!" She giggled as if I'm dumb. But then she stopped when she realized I really don't know what's happening. " Seriously? The second day of the concert!"

"Second day?!" I cannot hold my anger anymore. "What do you mean-"

"Concert was sold out tonight." She said as she finally stared straight at me as well. "There are more fans who wanted to go but didn't because there are no more tickets! So then we are giving them a chance!" She is wearing a huge grin, bigger than she had a while ago while confusion is still glued to mine. "So your sched' starts at 8 in the morning, you'll be gym-ing. 12 Noon is the practice up to 3 then 2 hours of rest and more practice since there are a lot of new things added to your show. The same thing goes for Friday except I will give you one-hour rest before it's showtime at 6 pm!" She raised her arms and wave her fingers while putting it down like those magicians on tv where there's a sparkling effect on their hands and I, as a kid, believed that the sparkles are one of his tricks.

Though instead of being sparked with excitement, my anger started rising. I can feel my blood rushing through my veins. "Mom, I'm tired. My head hurts, everything hurts! Recording, fan-signing events, world tours, and another concert here?! I just finished! I thought we'd take vacation here?"

"Honey~" She scooted a little bit farther from the seat and leaned closer, her arms resting on her thighs. "That's what happens when people reach success!"

"No SHIT!" This caught her off guard, something she never expects to leave my mouth again, and it felt good. "I'm fucking tired, my head and my body hurt--just in case your ears did not hear me from your dangling earrings and the money shoved down that earhole! I need my fucking rest mom!"

"Don't say those!" She whispered-scream at me. "The driver can hear us and our bodyguards are just right there!"--I look in the direction she nods to and there I see our big guys sitting in a two-seat facing our direction, they are on their phones watching some cute cat videos and not listening to us whatsoever--"They might tell the news that you are disrespecting me! Your mother!"

I calmed myself down a little, but my anger still lingers. "I'm not being rude to you mom. I'm just saying I am tire-"

"NO!" She lost the posh voice and returned to her Filipino accent, finally showing her true colors. In the corner of my eye, I caught the guards startled by my mom raising her voice but they refused to look up and the meow sounds kept playing on their phones. "You cussed at your mom and that is bad!" She leaned into the table and pointed at me with her finger and her ice-breaking glare. "If they found out about this, you'll be gone and the people will hate you--forever!"

I stared at my mom with the same anger in my eyes, but then what she said came replaying in my head: You'll be gone, people will hate you, you will never achieve this success if it wasn't for me, you are nothing, but I turned you into something. You will never be loved that way.

Shit even the past kept coming back. I saw her evil eyes watching as my guard started backing down. Both of her words and her gaze working together to take every inch of my truth and turning my life back into a lie again. "I-I'm sorry mom" I gave up, my head hung low.

I watched as her hidden smirk turned into a soft, fake smile. "It's alright honey." There comes her fake posh again. The limo went to a stop in front of the traffic light. My mom stood, her body leaning down since her 5-inch heel made her a bit taller, she then went 'round the table and sat beside me. The car then started moving again. She held my hand which's resting on my lap. "You know I cared for you~" then she hugged me, one arm over me. I can feel the warmth of her body passing through me and my heart. This made me look up. Maybe she did care for me, maybe she did love me. But the words left in her mouth next lost the spark of hope to me. "So~? Will you do the concert?"

I looked at her, really defeated and about to cry but I managed to let out a smile "Yeah." I said quietly. She squealed a yay and told me about the things she planned for my next concert here in the Philippines but everything's a blur to me.

She turned my dreams to hers. She sugar-coated every part of my art the way she always did with her voice to make her sound younger. She took my colors in order to shine brighter than me. I always wonder whether she cares for me because of me or because of what I have accomplished?

I knew I should've listened to my sisters on that day.

At 20, there are things that I knew about life: It's that nothing lasts forever. When there's a sun, there's a moon. In life, there's death, and prosperity comes with misfortune. Like Hansel and Gretel finding a gingerbread house filled with sweets; they thought they had it all until a witch came up and cooked them. The story just taught us that luck does not last forever, it always comes with a consequence.

I learned that right after you found happiness, and it made you too happy, the universe takes it away from you. Like when you're watching too much Netflix and you forgot that it was just a month-free trial and you have to pay for the next time.

Happiness has prices, and everything will suddenly turn into nothing.

Because who says you can stay happy in life?

Maybe that's why it felt so surreal when I found out I was going to be famous--because people will take a part of it from you after you enjoyed it. This is where I realized that this is just a fantasy, and fantasies are not real.

I felt the car turn slowly as I watched the beautiful city lights of Manila now glaring through the dancing trees. I wonder if those lights will fade once they find out who I really am and what I wanted all along.

Will the city lights turn into a lone forest? Will I just watch the trees dance with the wind? Should I just let the wind take the voice away or is it better to let out my voice although the lights will fade.

Then, I lost sight of the city. We are going through a dark road with dim street lights being 5 meters apart from each other. I don't see the city anymore and it's just trees. Although there's light, it still looks dark...Is this what loneliness feels like? If it is, then I don't want to be alone. I must make sure to keep the stage lights open,

Although the show is just a play.

Sadie

It's dark.

I was laying down on my bed the same way I usually do when I'm not sleeping: on my back, head hanging on the other side of the bed while on the other end, I let my feet scrape on the soft light brown carpet that covered the whole floor. It's dark because my eyes are closed--duh I'm such a dummy.

I may not see anything, though I can hear something--the songs on my playlist ranging from My Chemical Romance to The Paper Kites. Now, I'm listening to Turns Within Me Turns Without Me. This suddenly triggered my mind and finally, I am starting to see something.

My mom and my sister--flashbacks from the past. The portrait of eight-year-old me with them and dad, showing off our widest grin. Until dad was cropped out of the picture and replaced us with another family. Now my mom was left hopeless in love and life but she's still trying to keep things together. Maybe it's because she still has me and my sister. I could say that my mom and I are quite similar. The only exception is that I am messy, quite lazy, and not smart. For short: I'm a disappointment. If I got to be honest, I should've been placed in a coffin for a long time but I decided to fight back as if I got something more to show. Seriously, I daydream a lot to the point I crash into a wall, I stutter when I speak, I read shit that won't get me anywhere in life and I have to think for 3 minutes to find out what 6+9 is!; Like imagine walking up to me to have a normal conversation but I suddenly went "Hey, do you spot the differences of every species' feces?" I sighed. Why do I even exist up to this point?

Speaking of wishing I shouldn't have existed, something like "hating yourself" is just too cliché these days. You know, the thing some people just put out into the world because they want to share their self-hatred and the rest do it just to get attention? Like how people confidently tweets how ugly they are and they don't want the face they own but they have no choice but to suffer in it. Then their followers decided to butt in and say "No you're so pretty~" or attack with reverse "hating-yourself" like "No~ You pretty, me ugly bleurgh" or some shit. In my case, no one has ever disagreed with every negative thing I said about myself. Well, that's what happens when people tell the truth, I guess.

There are so many things going through my mind every day. There are times where I just wanna slam my head because of the sudden embarrassing memories that come to life, some things are what is the square root of 900? 300? Am I right? And sometimes they are just anything I wish to be in and what I want to be as. Now, I have ugly thoughts stuck in my head. They're like a combination of dirt, rocks, and lava I swallow while going on with life 'til they curl up into one giant boulder that I want to blend into smaller portions and puke out for people to see how dangerous it is inside my head. But there are just different types of people that you won't know what they will do after hearing this information. That's why this boulder is getting bigger and heavier--who could I trust with these?

Trust. Promise. They are simple words when said but, in action, are really big words to drop; because they can't stay with others. Like the time my dad once told me he loves us and wouldn't leave us but then the second time I asked--this time, trying to stop him from walking out the door-- he said "No! I never did! I will never love life like this, especially with you!"

See? That can happen in our life someday. When we promise something too soon, we trust someone too quickly and up to the point when we stop trusting at all because we don't know who they are and their intentions. Not even those closest to you. I just hate how they tell me that they know me when they don't. If they do know me, why did they not know the boulder I kept inside?

Then I heard a loud knocking sound banging endlessly. My wandering stops there. I took my earphones off and looked up where they came from. Everything I see is upside down including my older sister Angelica which is standing by the open door. She stopped knocking when I got all my eyes on her. "Get off the bed, we're leaving in any minute."

I sat up at the end of the bed, looking down and blinking to adjust my vision. My head hurt from all that laying upside down. I look up, finally getting to see my sister, and the whole room, right side up. My sister is wearing light blue baggy jeans with one rip across the thighs, and a tucked-in shirt with a bed of sunflowers printed on it.

"Where are we going?"

"Ugh, why do you have to ask?" She said in a cocky tone. "Can you just...Do it right away?"

I signed and I did what she told me. I stood and walked around the bed to my wooden closet at the very corner opposite the door, which is not a good spot at the moment because my sister did not stop right there.

"See, that's the problem with you: you always stay in this trashy room all by yourself doing depressing stuff of whatever the fuck you do and that's why you don't know shit! You're making yourself more like a dumbass by locking yourself here. When will you ever grow up?!" I did not say anything. I just look through my closet, moving racks and racks of clothing and pretending I can't hear her. Angelica scoffed. "Childish behavior--like always. You pretend that you can't hear me when you do! Here's a piece of advice, Di: Fucking change yourself. Because those ugly weird things you're doing are the reason why dad left us. And mom won't ever lo-" Angelica's voice is cut off by our mother calling her downstairs, sweetly. "Coming mom!" She screamed back at her with the same tone. She finally went downstairs, leaving me alone..Again.

Well, she had a fair point. I should change. But before that, she should stop saying "like" in every sentence. My sister loved ex-dad so much more than I. She kept calling him dad although he's the one who hurt us. Well, I can't blame her, she almost had his face! Angelica looks like ex-dad if he does drag! They both got the same tomato nose, the same almost non-existent eyebrows, the same way they scream at me and the...

Fuck Sadie keep thinking of funny things. Please don't cry.

I'm still standing in front of the closet. My feet are shaking and my eyes are getting blurry. I can feel my heart sting.

Angelica's words fell from her mouth, but it's my heart that is breaking. Though my heart is still holding up to my chest. It's just that the strings of my heart cannot hold it much longer that it wants to set it free and let it go. It seems that no veins would want to keep this living machinery beat anymore.

I might start giving it the benefit of the doubt. My heart should've stopped beating a long time ago. But instead, I keep it up as if I can still survive this trench I've been put into.

But...Why am I suffering like this?

Do I deserve to live like this? For what reason? Just because I'm just simply Sadie Ozoa, that one weird kid who does things in her own way and not being like others? For fighting for her safety? Who "breaks the rules'' most people follow that feels wrong for me? Tsk! As if there are rules in life! There are obvious "rules" we need to follow like don't commit crimes and be kind to others. But the rule book never said to not dress differently, to talk to anyone, or act the way others act!. First of all, what is this? Are we employees of the world? Second, do I have to talk to every person I pass by? And third, are we robots? We are made differently so why do we have to copy each other? So what if I'm just reading in the corner when others are with their friends? So what if I am sitting differently? So what if I am laying down with my head past the end of my bed? So what if I dream big? What is so wrong with the things I do? What even is normal? What even is accepted by the world?

I always wonder how the world even runs. But no one and nothing answered. Well as if it's gonna be answered. God, you are the creator of Earth. If ever you are there, I need answers. Really because all in my head is just WHAT THE FU-

"Honey~!" I heard my mom from downstairs.

I wipe my tears carefully with my hand, trying not to rub my eyes because it will make matters worse. "Ma-" my voice cracked in between. Fuck! I can hear footsteps getting closer. I close my eyes, think of something funny and hope for the best.

"Di-Di~" I can hear my mom a few feet behind me. "You wanna come with us? We will go grocery shopping and after that, we will eat at Jollibee. Hmm?"

Mom. Even after all the shit I've done, you still talk to me like when we were still kids. I turn around and you are by my door. She is wearing the red dress and purple velvet stilettos, the same outfit she wore when she and ex-dad went on their 15th-anniversary date. She had her black hair in a nice bun which showed her gold pineapple earring. Lastly, I look at her face. She's smiling. Although she can be quite old now, she still looks like an angel who came into my room to save me. I don't know why she looks so happy but I don't care. I am happy to see her like this. The last time she smiled this wide was when we were kids, when my ex-dad is still with us. When we would still go to random parks and play before the sun goes down. The times where we would watch movies in our home because we laugh, cry, and scream too loud. I still remember how happy we were back then. I wonder if the reason behind the disaster we are facing right now is because he lied to us or because I decided to fight back.

"Dasie," I snapped back to reality. I can feel my tears in my eyes again but I'm trying not to let it fall and hope my mom never noticed. Glad she doesn't have her glasses with her. "Are you coming?"

Maybe I should. I don't want to disappoint her again. But what if I did? Maybe I'll ruin it. Just like the last time I accidentally got lost in a mall because I was distracted by the tote bags.

"Umm...Maybe not mom."

I saw her smile drop a bit. "Why?"

"Umm...I have more things to do in school. I-I swear I'll clean the whole house before you arrive."

Mom sighed and looked down, maybe thinking. She looked back up. "Why do you always stay here? Aren't you tired of it?" I just stared at her, right now I don't know what to think. Should I change my mind?

My mom keeps talking about how I should go outside but I cut her off. "Mom, it's fine. I mean I will go outside tomorrow anyways."

She stared at me for a minute, maybe trying to look for somehow a hint that I'm lying but gave up right away. "Okay then." She walked to me and hugged me. I hugged back. She has said something that hurt me then but who wouldn't want to feel the warmth and love from the one close to your heart? I still love her. She is the only one who cares that I'm still breathing--and the reason why I do. I have done so many things that she deserves. She doesn't deserve a mess, and I don't deserve a mother like her.

She then pushed me a little bit to look at me while gripping on my shoulders. I could say we are staring at each other's eyes but it feels like she is looking through mine. I smiled and tried holding back my tears. She then let out a small smile herself. If I got to be honest, her eyes and her smile are so pure it made me smile bigger.

"Okay." She let go of me and walked back to the door. She turned her head one last time, keeping that same soft smile. "You want the ultimate burger patty with egg and fries again?"

I nodded, bringing her the biggest, and fakest, grin I could give her. She then told me to lock the doors and stay inside so I could be safe. I peered out of my room as soon as my mom went downstairs. I watch my mom go down and talk a bit to my sister who is holding the door open. It did not take a while till they all went out and closed the door. I let out a long sigh. I walk back to my bed while plugging my earphones back in. I lay back in the same position. I closed my eyes for a while and just went back to thinking.

I wish this world will one day realize what they are doing and decide to change right away. A change where I could wear what I want and love who I want and be who I am without feeling scared. Because the world is so cruel that even I can't say what I want to say.

Although I'm following the rules for a bit, I have to do something and I won't let people stop me this time. We need to change the rules and the stinky system, and if I did not stand up for me and the rest who feel alone, then who?

I won't let this world stay this way. It needs to be changed somehow. And it will change for the good.

Anya

Just another day.

I was sleeping peacefully, thinking about Princess Bubblegum's Candy Kingdom and the crazy cocaine-intoxicating Uncle Grandpa's RV. I was having the best time of my life. Going on adventures while riding Giant Realistic Flying Tiger with Starchy behind me solving the mystery as to how Uncle Grandpa and the gang arrived in the Candy Kingdom and eventually got lost-- I'm a resident here for some reason. But then the sound of an ear-wrecking alarm clock beeping just less than a feet away ruined my sweet dreams. My head jolted up, my eyes still half asleep. I slowly turn my head to the alarm clock and stare at it like it's an enemy. I reach my hand out and smack the button on top of it. I manage to look at the time from the black rectangular digital devil that woke me up from my sweet slumber. 5:35 am written in red. It really is a devil.

On the other hand, I mentally scratched my head. 5 am? That's...too early...Have I wrongly set the alarm last night?

The white double door opens and shows my mom wearing her Chanel evening peach lace dress. She's also wearing her pearly white smile but when she turns to look at me, it looks like she just saw a ghost. "OH MY GOSH ANYA!" she ran to me and started shaking my shoulders violently. "You need to wake up~"

"MOM!" I held her arms and pushed them with as much force as I could to get her grip away from me, which is quite a lot.

She keeps looking at the window behind me and the door a few feet from my bed. "If they see you-" she slapped my hand away from my eyes. "Don't rub it! Your eyes will get infected!"

"Mom, I'm just getting the eye gunk off-"

"Do you know what they will say when they see you like that?" Still paranoid, my mom rummaged through the drawer where my alarm and my notebook were settled. She grabs my purple hand mirror then faces it towards me. I see me. But not the sweet- and gorgeous-looking princess in all land. My hair looks like a dark brown tumbleweed, my eyebags getting deeper than they were then, and my saliva dried down to my chin. "YOU LOOK LIKE A NIGHTMARE!"

"Mom, I just woke up. You don't look awfully glowing at FIVE IN THE MORNING!"--emphasis on the five.

"Well, you must!" She then goes back to my drawers to grab a brush and my make-up kit. She sat beside me and I noticed that she's wearing full-face make-up. She grabs a brush and started "fixing" my face (because she doesn't want anyone to see me "poor-looking")

"Mom."

"Hmm?"

"My alarm-"

"Oh, I forgot!" She squealed like an excited rat. "I resched EVERYTHING! Your gym, dance practices, rehearsals, costume rehearsal, and even new song recordings!"

I pushed her arm away, gently this time "What-what do you mean new song recordings and dance practices?"

She aww-ed and chuckles. "My treasure~" She put the brush back on my cheeks. "You must have not listened to me last night~! I already told you that I made the show different so your fans last night would be jealous!" She chuckled after this, to which I rolled my eyes. "I added in different props which you can play around with, new dance steps AND two new song recordings leaks for your next album exclusive only for those who went. I found a fancy recording studio here in the Philippines--the US can do better but oh well. Anyways, WE CAN BEAT BRITNEY'S VEGAS SHOW...thing. Who cares? YOU are the star, my daughter."

"Mom! I am not informed about this! I am quite tired, it's too early--the sun is not even out! Why only say this now I'm-"

"Hush, hush my child!" my mom brushed all around my face. When the soft bristles hit my lips, I spit air like I was beatboxing. "It's a surprise! You like it?"

No mom, I don't.

Finally, she pulled away from me. She squealed like a kid again and flashed the hand mirror to me. I can see my hair combed straight down and my bags and a few acne-covered with foundation. I look like the basic white girl on Instagram who uses FaceTune. "You look so expensive now hun~~" My mom let out a small giggle but her small smile quickly changed to her lips forming a small circle. "Maybe we could mess your hair a little bit..And done" I look back at the mirror and it's still the same look, just my hair is a bit messy--just some strands going in different places just to make it look like I sleep like Kylie Jenner or something.

My mom gave me one last kiss and a soft "Hollywood" smile as she likes to call it. She stood up and opened the doors. I heard her voice faint in the distance. Four of our maids went in to prepare my bath and my clothes.

>< <> <> ><

My hair is all tied up to a bun and I'm wearing tight black yoga pants with a pink sports bra. I am running on the treadmill of the personal gym in our mansion. It was located just a room away from mine. Loads of gym equipment are placed over a light rectangular wooden tile and the surroundings are covered in marble-like texture. Except for what's in front of me. I can see our backyard from up here and a forest not too far from it. I can see hills and mountains standing tall behind it which have a few trees too--I believe the subdivision will chop and destroy them to make more mansions for the rich, which I don't support. I speed the treadmill a little bit and stare back at the world outside this glass box I'm in. The thought came back to me again: I wonder what it feels like to go out there?

What if I'm not stepping on the treadmill anymore--but the ground? I could feel the dirt road on the soles of my feet, soils clutching on it. I could feel bushes and leaves scrape my skin. The shadows of the trees are covering the path, only the rays of sun skidding pass through and shone light on it. I run faster. Fallen leaves flew one foot behind me, the wind making the tree branches dance beneath me. The hair tie got caught by the branches and let my hair sway along with the leaves. I have never felt this good before. I close my eyes as I feel my surroundings. The rustling trees, the howling wind, my feet scraping on the soil.

Is this what freedom feels like? Running away from the spotlight and into a path where the lights are only peeking from above? Feeling unafraid that no one is around you? Stepping on dirt barefoot, not giving a shit if they cling onto your skin or designer clothes. Breaking away from the shackles my mom and the entertainment world keep me in. Out of their control. Leaving everything behind. All alone. On my own doing what I want with no one stopping me. Being me and doing....things...that makes me, me.

I can see the bottom of the mountain, welcoming me to the light--the light that I always wanted to be in. In a different place. Where I could be...free. I ran straight to it. This is it. It felt too good to be true but...I am free.

"Princess Anya?" I open my eyes and I'm back to reality. The scenery is still in front of me and I am still in this room. But I somehow forgot that I'm running on a treadmill. I step my left foot backward which sends me flailing down.

I lift my head. It got hit on the corner of the treadmill which kind of hurts. I held my temple softly to check if it grew a bump. I heard a voice behind me apologizing and helped me stand up. One of our maids started dusting off any possible floor crumbs on my body but I held her arms to stop her "You don't have to, really"

Gladly, she stopped. "I am so sorry ma'am. I shouldn't barge in while you're doing something."

"You did nothing wrong, but I accept your apology." I smiled softly. "And please, You don't have to call me princess or ma'am or miss when my mom is not around"

"Oh okay, ma'am. Oh-" she put her hand up her mouth quickly. I raised my eyebrows. "Sorry ma'am, I can't help it."

"It's alright. Just not princess, please. That is soooo cringy and ridiculous!" She let out a suppressed laughter but then we burst out laughing.

It took five seconds of silence before she spoke. "Mrs. Moore wants me to inform you that your outfit for today has been prepared in your room. I can lead you to it, ma'am."

"Oh sure sure." I watched her turn her back and about to step out but I stopped her. She turned and I looked down, feeling flushed and thinking if I should ask this question. I breathe in deep. "Is it alright if you can give me a hug?"

I can feel her step in front of me. I look up and there she is, with her arms wide open. "You may, ma'am.'

So I did. We stayed there for a while. I hug her over her shoulder while her hands are around my waist. The hug was tight, but not too much like how my mom does. It's gentle. It's not the hug that kept me locked in one's arms but it's the hug that makes me want to stay. It felt safer. It takes me back to when I was seven.

She lets go, but it's not enough for me. It must have been because we need to get ready. She smiled. I smiled too, maybe even bigger than hers. "May I ask for your name?"

She was stuttering, hesitant at first but managed to say "B-Beth. They call me Beth here."

"Thank you, aunt Beth."

"You don't have to call me aunt-"

"I insist. I can't help it." I chuckled and so did she.

I followed Beth on the way to my room. I don't know the names of our maids but I can recognize their faces, and Beth is the face I will never forget. Her features never changed. She has light brown skin, black hair, brown eyes, thin light pink lips, and quite chubby. She just got a few wrinkles and I got 2 feet and a few inches taller. We have Beth since the time I just turned 7. We had six maids at that time and Beth was the seventh. I thank God, and maybe mom, for giving her this job. Out of all of them, Beth is my only favorite. She's the one who always takes care of me when mom was on a business trip with my dad. Beth would always tuck me in, telling stories, singing songs, and play with me when my sisters were doing their homework. She's even helping me out with my homework, teaching me, and stuff.

We arrived at my room. I see four young-looking maids-mid-30s-already there. They are trying my clothes on me, topping the hanging dresses on their bodies and the others are complementing each other. They did put them back in the closet when they saw me and Beth. They are all aligned beside each other and with a, maybe the fakest, smile, they welcome me. I also gave a fake grin back at them and went in as they led me to my dresser.

"What's taking you so long?" One of the maids asked Beth but I answered before aunt Beth could.

"Oh, my bad. I was taking so long on the treadmill" I said with a smile. The maid then apologized quickly and they continued giving my hair and face make-up.

Beth and I are so close. She's like my first ever friend. But when my mom found out how close we are-surprisingly took almost a year-she faced me to tell that I shouldn't be close to Beth because she was just trying to get close to me so she could secretly take our riches (and that all the maids think like that, hence why we aren't supposed to know their names). Mom then separated us and decided that a different maid should deal with me, which is not a nice maid. She's just all "quiet" and "obedient" When in reality, she and along with the three maids-which are with me right now-are backstabbers and gossipers.

They finished my makeup and hair-a simple day look and mediumwave hair. They stood me up and grabbed the outfit that they had prepared for me. A long sleeve bodycon pencil dress with a zipper on the back.

"Umm...It's quite hot in here. Do I have to wear that?"

All three of them look at each other then back to me. "It's the queen's orders, princess," the 'queen' and 'princess' said in an almost mocking voice. I don't blame them. It's so silly and cringe-y. But her saying it that way just makes it more cringe-y.

"Oh," I said. Yeah right. My mom always picks clothes for me. I can't do anything about it since it's commanded by my mom. "Okay then. Sure." I smiled at them and they started to help me change.

I spend most of my years with them. Ever since Dad died, everything he owned went to my mom. My sisters ran away while we were on our way to the USA to jumpstart my career. We stayed in dad's home here and while my mom was looking for connections from her fellow rich friends, I stayed inside the house with the seven maids but I am mostly surrounded by four of them fixing me up and stuff while the rest, including Beth, does most of the chores. Sometimes when Beth and I crossed paths, we would give each other hidden smiles and that's all we have. She's not like other maids. She's not what my mom depicts her to be. She has the purest heart and I knew that because of the stories she told me.

I finished getting ready. I look at my reflection wearing a dress, pink pumps, and a handbag. I took a deep breath and smiled. Not sure why. I guess I just have to, for some reason.

I step out of my room and walk down the stairs. From the steps, besides my mom and two of my bodyguards, I see a brunette-haired guy standing beside them wearing a black long-sleeved turtleneck and brown jeans. He's looking down, ruffling his hair. As soon as mom called my name, he looked up. His hair is a bit messy but that's how he styles it all the time.

"Hey," Kade said, staring at me with his mouth hanging like a dog who wants to play catch. "You look so beautiful."

"Thanks," I said, my smile didn't fade. He held my hand when I was five steps close to them and kept it like that when we stepped out. The two bodyguards are in front of us and mom is walking behind. We walk on the brick pathway to the gate to which the bodyguards open. I saw the limousine parked in front of the gate and our guards were already there holding the door for us. I went in then Kade, mom, and our bodyguards.

I stare at the window, our front porch on display. The red brick path is surrounded by green grass and colorful flowers but some are covered by the gate and its design of vines and thorns. I keep staring at it. I just feel something about it. I just don't know what. Maybe it's just that I miss being here again, but is it?

I watch the vehicle drive away, showing different landscapes. Here I go again, I thought. Another day of endless practice. Sometimes I wonder if I can still hold on. Is this what being a pop star feels like? Maybe. Maybe not. Rebels are only for those who are bad, is what my mom says. If I step out of this "Barbie" box, I won't be who I am today and no one will ever want to see me. So I have to keep going. If this makes me a well-known and most loved singer, then I should keep going. Although I don't feel like it's right, I have to do anything to make sure I won't fail as others do.

It's better to hold back than let go.