"I can't get it to zip!"
Amber Von Tussle was tugging furiously at her dress, almost falling into the wall in the dressing room. Velma sighed and rolled her eyes, stepping closer to pull the zipper up. When it didn't budge, she scowled down at Amber.
"Well, I guess you'll need to lose some weight before you can wear it, then." She said, letting the fabric fall from her hands.
"Why don't we just get a bigger size?" Amber asked, trying to make the dress fit.
"A bigger size? Are you insane?" Velma hissed, snapping towards her daughter, "You're already a size six."
"For God's sake, mother, it's not that big of a deal."
"What size do Shelly and Brenda wear, Amber?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.
Amber looked down at the floor and mumbled, "Four."
"Well, there you have it."
"How's anyone even going to know?"
"The tags, Amber, people can read." With that, Velma grabbed her purse and turned towards the door.
"Get dressed, I'll meet you in front. One more diet and you'll be in that dress."
Amber stood in front of the dressing room mirror, holding the dress up, and sighed. No matter what, it would never be good enough for her mother, would it?
Now, Amber was standing alone in the studio, the lights dimmed and the seats empty. The cameras had been rolled away, and Link and Tracy- the new happy couple- had long since left to go to a party at Motormouth Maybelle's record shop. She'd been invited half-heartedly by Penny, who didn't have the heart to be mean, but Amber had declined and instead opted to stay at the studio.
Velma had already been through her spiel about Amber never being good enough, how Von Tussles were supposed to be winners, and in the end had stormed off, leaving Amber to walk home. So she sat on the floor in the center of the studio, her dressed pooled around her. She thought about Link, and how she'd lost him to Tracy. She wondered if he was ever even remotely attracted to her, and then thought about Tracy herself. She thought about all the things she'd said to her, the comments in the school hallway, the insults she'd said to Shelley and Lou Ann, making sure she was loud enough for Tracy to hear. She thought about her mother, who'd been insulting Amber since she was in her first pageant when she was six, and realized that it was the same thing. She'd turned into Velma, taking what she wanted and shoving everyone else out of the way to get to it.
She thought about Seaweed and Penny and Tracy and Link, and how they would be happier than she and Link ever would have been. He didn't love her, she knew that. She was a pretty girl, that was for sure, but she had nothing else to offer. What did she have left now, anyway? What was the point? She'd be going home to a psychotic mother who'd make her fit into smaller sized dresses and take dance lessons and smile for the camera even when she felt like crying.
Tears blurred her vision and she realized that she'd been holding it all back for all of these years, letting her mother step all over her and putting on an act for the rest of the world. She pretended to have friends who adored her, when really she knew they called her a whore and a bitch behind her back. Who was she, anyway? She'd turned into someone that she didn't know, and it scared the hell out of her.
"Damnit," she cursed, the tears escaping, and for the first time in ten years, she cried. Not a fake cry for the camera or to get what she wanted or to make people feel sorry for her, but a real, honest cry.
"Amber?" a voice echoed in the empty studio and she stopped, abruptly. Corny Collins stood before her, his coat pulled around him. "What are you still doing here?"
She realized that he'd been in his office the whole time, and tried to find the best way out.
"Nothing," she said quickly, trying to stand up, "I'm going now."
"Hey, wait." He said, taking her arm, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, why would you think that? Nothing's ever allowed to be wrong when you're a Von Tussle." She said bitterly, her voice hoarse.
"Amber," he said, softer now and less accusatory, "Come on."
She sighed, and he dropped her arm. "My boyfriend, who never really loved me in the first place, dumped me. She mother's a lunatic who's obsessed with making me perfect. My friends, who never liked me in the first place, think I'm a total bitch. And they're right, too, which is the worst part. I don't even know who I am anymore. I didn't want to be like this! She made me this way!" Tears reformed against her will and she felt him pull his arms around her, pulling her to him.
"I'm sorry." He said, simply, "I'm so sorry."
A hug, a simple, regular hug, and she immediately felt safer even through her crying. Her mother hadn't shown the least bit of affection for her since she was seven, at least, none that wasn't for the camera.
"I'll tell you what," he said, keeping his arm around her shoulder, "We're going to go get ice cream. Two scoops, with caramel and hot fudge and sprinkles and whipped cream, just you and me. You know why?"
She shook her head, wiping her eyes.
"Because Velma would hate it."
A/N: Any thoughts? Good? Bad? Somewhere in the middle?