Summary: "The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself." What happens when being perfect is no longer enough?

Author's Note: Hey everyone! This is an idea that has been bouncing around my head for awhile and I decided to post to see if anyone was interested and wanted me to continue with it! I'm trying my hand at writing in first person perspective which I don't generally do so I'm not positive how well this is going to go but I felt that it was a better way to convey the premise of the story. So with that said, please don't hesitate to tell me what you think!

A huge thanks goes out to En-En-chan who has so graciously agreed to beta for me and who was kind enough to provide the title! Major thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, have the pleasure of being able to say with confidence that I created and own Beyblades and all things subsequently associated with it.

Prologue

Perfection.

Definition: A state of completeness and flawlessness; being free from fault or defect; an exemplification of supreme excellence.

A simple and innocent enough word for most people.

A title they use to describe only the best, the crème de la crème, the unsurpassed. An expression that conveys an ideal of society that takes its form in the recesses of humanity, in those who dedicate their lives to attaining such a heading and the subsequent recognition of this by others for their amazing achievements.

To the majority, those living outside the realms of the world of perfection, they see it as an honour to be given such a mantle to wear. They can only look on and see the admiration and envy, the greatness and the importance, the respect and the wonder, which is bestowed upon those branded as perfect. They believe that it is effortless for these few elite people that can procure such a sentient and they cannot see past their own desires to really look at those they hold in such high esteem. They cannot understand the potency and effect that being seen as perfect has on those delegated to it, only the extraordinary personas that they themselves have built up and enforced upon these people.

What most do not realize is the dark and unyielding clutch that perfection has on those who attain it.

They cannot even begin to understand and sympathize with the pressure and constraints that such an 'honour' places upon a person. They don't realize that it's all consuming and destroying. It's like a drug and you can never escape it. You can never break free from it because if you do, you're all alone. The harsh reality is that no one likes a failure. And so, you continue to feed the cycle, abiding by the strict set of rules that govern the game of perfection. And the absolute saddest thing about it is that it never ends. Once you reach one level of 'perfect' you soon realize that it's not enough and so you have to strive to reach a point further than it in order to feel the praise and admiration of those you seek such approval from. You have to continue to surpass yourself and push yourself further than what is realistically possible. It's a never ending circle that you can't pull yourself out of once you get into the rhythm of it without obliterating all you've worked so hard to craft.

It's an addiction and an impossibility.

And it's the acknowledgment, appreciation, and approval garnered from those not in the same situation that unknowingly keeps the chain unbroken and nourishes it, ensuring along the way that it can't be escaped from.

It's a vicious cycle.

To others, perfection is a word that they more often than not throw around with carelessness and flippancy, applying it wherever they wish without regard to the power that such a statement can convey to others who accept it as more than an expression of the English language.

To those few others it is just that.

A word.

But to those who believe in it unwaveringly and enforce this conviction that perfection is achievable and should be strived for at all costs onto others, generally people too weak to resist, it is the ultimate goal in life. To them, the recognition of such a triumph from surrounding others is vital, a pivotal element, something which substantiates and justifies all the hard work and sacrifice that is required in order to reach the status of perfect.

It is an all-encompassing commitment that is not undertaken lightly. To embark upon such a quest is not the result of a simple want, but a powerful and unrelenting need, driving and pushing you to, and usually beyond, your limitations.

It's a lifestyle.

One that devours you completely on the inside, ensnaring your whole being within its shadowy depths, but which leaves a lasting impression to those on the outside. A fantastically brilliant image to be precise.

And it's obsessive in its entirety.

And how do I know this?

I am perfection.

I am the singular, most perfect person you will ever meet in your entire lifetime.

I have spent the last thirteen years of my life shaping and fashioning myself into the person I am today and I am proud to announce that all my devotion and dedication has paid off.

I am the best at everything I do, at everything I set out to do.

I've made sure of it.

I've invested everything I have into securing the attention and positive appraisal of everyone I've ever encountered and I will continue to do so as long as I can to make sure I'm loved for eternity by all. For me that's the most important thing. I can't function without the love and admiration of those around me. I crave it. I need to be reveled and worshipped by all in order to assure myself that I have worth and that I have meaning as an individual. That the impenetrable mask I have so diligently woven and worn all these years isn't in vain. That I will be adored and venerated for all of my accolades and the time I've spent acquiring them.

Yes, I am perfection personified.

I have to be.

Because, for me, perfection wasn't ever really a choice. It was a defense mechanism.

Perfection is my means of survival.

I learnt this at the tender age of three, that being defect less and flawless would solidify my position in my austere and always watched corner of the world. I began to comprehend that if I wanted attention and affection then I had to have a legitimate reason for receiving it. Thus began my mission and pursuit of the elusive label of perfection.

The high society circles of New York are where I play my dangerous and deadly game of pretenses and unrealistic farces. Ultimately, it's the reason why I am the way I am.

After my initial discoveries, it moulded me and guided me, showed me the path to which I could accomplish greatness and in turn gain acceptance from those I so desperately need it from.

High society New York… only the most glamorous, famous, richest and exceptional are allowed the privilege of being a part of such a scene. It's the most demanding and seductive of all cultures. It's only too easy to be a 'somebody' one day and then a 'nobody' the next if you can't establish yourself above the rest of those trying to steal your spotlight. And there is an unbelievable amount who would love to see you fail so they can take your place. That's why I had to cement myself so firmly in the fabric of society and become a necessity, the most perfect person. I had to prove myself and show them that no matter what, my light would always burn just that little bit brighter than the rest of theirs. To demonstrate that I am the best and that they needed me more than I needed them.

A lie…but they needn't know that.

Actually, if truth be told, it was never my original intention when I made the decision to embark upon the journey of excellence for it to affect my standing within society.

It was merely a reaction to my immediate surroundings at home.

But as I grew older I began to be aware of the fact that I could gain interest and appreciation for my feats and accomplishments from those outside my family circle. And as that increased exponentially, the affirmative reactions of my relatives increased too.

After all, I was an ambassador for my family.

Everything I did well reflected on them and helped to strengthen our position as a collective in the often harsh social circles in which we live.

It's a win-win situation if you consider it.

Not only do I gain approval from my family but I also receive the adulation and praise from everyone else, thereby enforcing my merit and reputation in my community. And of course, by association, that of my family.

I'm the girl who is perfect in every way, shape and form.

Yeah, that's me to a tee.

I am the golden girl of New York society. No one can match up to me. I am what all other parents wish their child could be like.

I'm perfect.

And as such, I can never let my guard down. I can never show others how broken I am on the inside if I want to continue my charade of happiness in the sheltered world in which I live my life. I can never show the cracks and insecurities that lie within, so firmly entrenched that some day's it's all I can do to not scream at the top of my lungs that I'm not okay and never have been. I can never let my faultless mask fall even for the smallest instance if I wish to remain in the secure bubble I've created. I need the smile to remain permanently fixed on my face so they can't see what I'm really feeling on the inside if I want to continue to live in the fast lane with all those adoring eyes staring up at me on my pedestal so high above them all. I have to keep the walls up otherwise I'll fall and all that I've produced will crumble into nothingness and the perfectness will be ruined.

I can't let that happen under any circumstance.

After all, perfection is the only thing I've ever known. Without it, I don't know what would become of me. I'd be stripped down bare to my core, the layers of illusion I'd manufactured over the years would quickly unravel to leave a fractured little girl yearning for the adoration she so depended on to stay afloat in the shark infested waters of her exclusive community.

I'd be nothing…nothing at all.

I didn't like that thought.

Not one little bit.

Not at all.

I guess it's too bad that nobody ever bothered to tell me that perfection cannot last then isn't it?

So, should I continue or not? Reviews would be unbelievably appreciated!