He's terrible. Just terrible. Awful, horrible, and terrible. I can see the way he treats you.
Even worse, for me, is the way he looks at you.
When we first came here, to the Jellicle junkyard, you caught everyone's eye. A rich red new queen, bright-eyed and beautiful. Friendly and sweet and bold and even a little brash.
I was shy, timid—but you never abandoned me, not even for a second. Loyalty is your greatest strength.
Not his. Not at all.
He's a wild one. Shameless. Seductive. He conquers ever queen. He's even gone for me. At least, he did once, before his elder brother stepped in on my behalf.
But he was different with you.
Munkustrap mentioned it to me, when he saw me watching you two. Glaring. Disapproving.
"Demeter," he said kindly, drawing my attention.
I sighed.
Munk moved closer to me. "I've never seen him try so hard before." His gray eyes were laughing.
I whispered, "I'm just afraid he'll hurt her." As I turned back, I saw him running a finger up your cheek while you laughed.
I felt Munk behind me, solid and steady. "She'll be fine.'
I still hope he's right. But I fear he's wrong. You see, I know you like they don't. I know you like no one else. We've been together a long time, sisters and friends.
All the Jellicles see you smile and pick yourself up every time he drops you. But I see you wince.
The wince is quick; barely there. But I can see it.
He affects you. From the very first day we became Jellicles, you had your eye on that big maned tom.
The three of them—Old Deuteronomy's sons, the princes of the junkyard: Macavity, Munkustrap, and the Rum Tum Tugger—were standing up on the tire, next to the old T.S.E car.
We looked at them. I saw my future love and he saw me. I gave a small smile, the first time in a long time. The world seemed to slow down.
Finally, I tore my eyes away and caught sight of him, the tallest, shaggiest one, looking at you. And his smile! It looked like he wanted to eat you up; like you were a mouse, or a plate of cream. It was predatory, and it scared me.
But when I glanced at you, sitting beside me, your eyes were lit up like candles at Christmas and you were staring back at him.
I couldn't believe it. The more I got to know of him, the less desirable he became. To me.
I still can't believe it. He loves you and leaves you, pulls you back in and yanks you around.
Maybe he does love you, as much as he can love. Munk is right; no one has ever seen him try so hard. To win you, he'd do anything.
But he doesn't have to. You love him too well. You run to him every time he calls, you smile every time he looks your way. You give him all of your heart, every single time.
"Bomba," I begged, "Please. Why do you go back to him? Why do you let him do this to you?"
"Because," you brushed it off, letting your gaze wander the dirt beneath our feet, "Because I love him."
How did he ever deserve your love? You undying loyalty? Your beauty and your innocence?
He never will. But, my sister, you've been there for me, through it all, so I'll try to be here for you. To support you.
Whatever you decide. Whatever you want. Whomever you choose to love.
But it will be hard for me. He's a fool, an idiot; a clown whose only saving grace is a handsome face and a long muscular body that curls around you at night.
But I will try. I'll stand by you. Thank goodness I've got my own love, my Macavity, standing by me.
He's pressed against my side right now, sleeping. I smile at his striped face and sigh.
I'll try. I'll try just for the chance that you'll end up as happy as I am.