Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon or any of the characters and settings from it. This fic is greatly centred around an abusive family and an eating disorder. Matt has bulimia, and he and Tayla will get together eventually. There is also a bit of Takari and Taiora, and if anyone wants a yaoi relationship between some of the other characters i will think about putting it in. but there will be no lemons in this story. I also plan on changing the rating to R at around chapter 9. Enjoy, and please review.

Tayla

Prologue by flurobandaid

"Okay now, look up at us," a photographer instructed a model, peering down at her before a light flashed and the click of a camera sounded.

She was sitting in a sea of white veils, made from the same wispy material as the dress she wore. The lace trimming was yellowed slightly and a delicate row of six embroidered roses lined the bust. Her long blonde hair was in a cascade of dull curls, crowned by a halo of pink blossoms.

"Try and look a bit lost. Like you're hoping for something... Do you get what I'm saying Tayla?"

The model nodded desolately. Hoping... Almost like wishing. And she wished her brothers would be safe in her arms. She wished that she didn't have to pretend any longer. Pretend she really was a pretty face with a bubbling attitude. And she was lost. Lost in a dream that wasn't hers to be a part of. How many girls had she seen come to this studio with hopes of being a catwalk star and get turned away coldly because their hair wasn't the right length? And how many times had she wished she were lucky enough to be one of them? Lucky enough to be spat out of the modelling industry...

Bitter emptiness swallowed her; poisoning her blood with despair. Her face wore a blank expression, portraying how hollow she was inside. How lost she was in her own pity...

"Perfect." The camera flashed, and her hollow blue eyes did not blink as dry tears slipped down her cheeks. She smiled weakly in her mind. Why could she never cry? Just shudder on the inside and fall to pieces without any sign that any of it was really real. It hadn't been this way when she started. She used to love it. Flirting with the camera was her gift, one she got directly from her mother. Why did she hate it now? Why was something that used to be so real and wonderful so fake and pretend now? This used to be her, and it wasn't anymore.

They finished the shots shortly after that. Tayla stood on her thin legs and made her way to the empty dressing room. As she began to take off the thick make-up that painted a façade of glamour on her, she looked into her reflection in the mirror. Her skin was pale and smooth. It was flawless; as though she were a porcelain doll. Tayla glared at her reflection bitterly. It was too perfect. And she wasn't. Scars flawed her on the inside; bruises glowed purple on her soul; her voice was broken with screams that had shadowed the emptiness inside her. Everything was one big lie. How was anyone supposed to know that she hadn't seen her mother in a month and that her sisters were living in hell beside her brothers under the rule of her step-father. He wasn't a nice man, but no one knew that, no one would suspect that because she was perfect and in turn led the perfect life. The perfect lie…

And although she wanted nothing more than to be stripped clean of her mask, to let everyone see the face of the child she really was – not that of the flawless sculpture she had become – she knew that tomorrow she would wake up and be too tired to be normal. She'd be too worn out on the inside, her head so weary that the only thing she would be able to do was continue to pretend to be Tayla-Mae Periwinkle; the exquisite angel of society; and the broken child within her would cower in that angel's shadow, too scared and exhausted to try and speak with a voice that was not of silence...

A/N: this is only the beginning. I promise, this is not a mary-sue, I just needed to introduce part of Tayla's situation. Please review, otherwise i don't know if anyone is reading this and won't continue it.