Author's Note: This is just a different perspective on marriage that I've been mulling over. I don't know if Marissa ever felt this way, and the series never truly suggested this. But I had fun playing around with the characters. This was inspired by "Not Like the Movies" by Katy Perry. The idea of being scared and unsure just rings true and I wanted to experiment with it and write it down. Please enjoy.
When she was young, she liked to play with her mother's rings. Often they would be placed in the little blue dish on the vanity in her parent's room, and Marissa would sit there twisting and twirling them around her too small fingers. She could do this for hours on end, observing how the white gold caught the soft glow from the lamp and how the neat princess cut diamond would always twinkle back at her. Her mother was a distant presence in the bathroom, always primping and admiring her reflection in the large bathroom mirror, preparing for an evening out. Most times she would bestow bits of advice on her eldest daughter, like where to spray and dab the perfume, and which essentials were needed in a clutch to carry a lady through the night.
Her parents were well known in Newport Society. Her father, the well-loved golden boy, and her mother, the sly, cunning gorgeous girl whose affection he had won. No one ever liked to mention where her mother was really from and why they really had gotten married in the Cooper household. Of course, these details were often whispered about in the other high society ladies' ears at functions, or behind closed doors over a drink. But light was shining kindly on the Coopers for now, and Newport was willing to forgive. It would not, however, ever forget.
To Marissa, an eleven-year-old girl, these details simply went over her head. She loved her father dearly and her mother always knew what was best for her. She grew up believing this and behaving and listening, even if she didn't always agree. For she was young, prone to make mistakes. So she obeyed, fearing the consequences otherwise.
Her mother, for as long as she could remember subtly instilled within her the importance of marrying well, which of course meant rich. Money meant safety. Money meant pretty dresses and Prada handbags. Money meant security. Money meant not caring how much booze you drank, as long as you held it well. Money meant that it didn't matter where her mother was from, humble beginnings be damned.
Money was everything, and even though it was considered tacky to brag about, it was all anyone in Newport ever really took seriously.
To her mother, Luke was a nice boy. He would be the perfect man. To her mother, Ryan was Chino, and while he could always blend in with the other Newport boys when dressed in a suit at those ridiculous parties and functions, he would never be one of them.
"Don't," her mother would tell Marissa. But Marissa couldn't help it. He was different, and that's what she liked about him.
He wasn't Newport society. He wasn't new money or old money or any money at all, really. He was just Ryan.
"Don't," her friends would tell her. They had the same upbringing as her, they were taught the same things as she. To them, Ryan was eye candy, a one night stand, someone to make them feel less lonely in their privileged world for a second in a dark closet but then gone the next. He wasn't a boyfriend or a possible husband. He was hot and weakened the knees of any girl when he wore that damn wife beater of his, but that was all. That was all he was allowed to be.
No longer eleven, Marissa knew why people whispered about her parents behind closed doors. It had been a long time since she had visited her mother's room in the evening, listening to gossip and advice and insights on marriage.
She found herself at her mother's vanity the night of her coming-out, again after all of those years, searching for a necklace that would compliment her dress. She momentarily forgot about the search and was distracted by the ring that was left in the blue dish. Her mother had taken to wearing only one ring, and so her engagement ring remained. Marissa picked it up tentatively, feeling the smoothness of the band between her fingers, before slowly holding it up to the light.
The familiar princess cut diamond winked at her as she slowly tilted it from side to side. She noticed her reflection in the mirror and took in her white dress, her flawless makeup and her pretty hair, all the necessary things to form a perfect debutante. She wondered if she looked like her mother on her wedding day.
She slipped the ring on and held her left hand away from her face, surveying it from a distance. It was too small. The princess cut diamond weighed heavily on her finger, as if demonstrating all the unsaid responsibilities of being a Newport bride.
She imagined someday, some boy- Luke, would propose to her with this ring, or one similar to it. And if not Luke, someone like him.
To Marissa, Luke was vanilla. Satisfyingly boring. Safe and secure. Dull.
She imagined him proposing, telling her they'd be happy growing old together.
She imagined them growing old together. Visions of thousands of cocktail dresses and designer handbags whirled through her head. The events, the functions, the parties. The after parties where Luke was sure to get wasted on something or high on another. The mansion, not unlike the Coopers, fantastic and imposing and large enough for them to stay well away from each other if they ever needed to be. The children, tall like Luke, with Marissa's eyes…
Luke cheating… Marissa ignoring it because she didn't want a divorce, as that would admit that she was just like everyone else in this town and the kids, they would be heartbroken… The fake smiles, the fights behind their bedroom door, the pricey vodka she'd down to calm her nerves, the feeling that once again, everything was crumbling down around her… The dresses, the handbags, the spas, the diamond necklaces to remind her that nothing really mattered. Nothing really mattered at all.
One day, someday, some boy- Luke, and if not him, someone similar, would propose to her with this ring- and if not this ring, perhaps something bigger.
"They say you know when you know," Summer had always told Marissa with a blissful smile. When that perfect man went down on one bent knee and held open a box with that perfect ring. Marissa didn't know. She didn't know anything at all, she was just a girl.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror, a scared girl of sixteen, in a white dress and a too-small engagement ring. It was like she was playing dress-up, but ultimately, this is who she would become.
Was this her future?
She looked down at the ring again, the diamond still sparkling in the light. Only this time she didn't want to know any of its secrets. She struggled to pull it off, and when she finally did she saw that it had left a mark on her skin. An indentation, like the ring was still there.
She had half a mind to change in a tank top and jeans and sneak out to meet Ryan and run. Run far away from this place where she would be trapped someway somehow. When she was in his arms, she felt that she knew that things could be different. Things could change.
But then she remembered herself. She was Marissa Cooper. She was a debutante. She had duties and responsibilities, the scared girl inside herself admonished. She didn't want to let anyone down.
So she put a smile on her face and picked out an appropriate necklace from her mother's selection. She glided down the stairs and into the car with true grace.
They say you know when you know. Marissa knew now, that this wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want her life to amount to nothing. But the mark on her finger was there, like a brand, reminding her who she was and who she would become.
Someday, the perfect man would propose and Marissa would accept.