A/N: There's some Liley if you squint and close one eye, but I didn't actually notice that until after this was done. Mostly it's just Lola.
If you get confused, take a look at the reviews. An anonymous reviewer explained the psychology behind this far better than I ever could.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Bangles
Lola likes to wear wigs.
Lilly doesn't really like the sweat and that persistent itch that comes with knowing that she can't take it off, no matter how much she wants to. Her nose wrinkles up at the thought of yet another night spent alone backstage, watching from the sidelines. Her memories in retrospect of these events are always dim, but there is always that overbearing feeling of loneliness, and somehow she knows that she has wasted another night lurking in the recesses of her mind, personality diminished. But as soon as her everyday self is tucked away under bright colors and bangles, the annoyance seems to dim, and Lilly just watches from the sidelines as another personality comes into view, bright and fluorescent and fearless.
Lola thinks wigs are a perfect accessory, likes to laugh at jokes that aren't really funny, tends to drink just a little bit too much. When the room spins just the littlest bit around her head, colors blending together into a neon whirlpool, it's the perfect time to get just one more drink. Lola likes to play. So what if Hannah stares at her with those eyes that see right through her and straight into the screaming crowd? That just means that it's time to flaunt and strut and flip her hair a little bit more. Silence is an excuse to talk just that much louder.
On the drive home the limo is never quite big enough for all four girls, each of them larger than life. The silence is overwhelming, but every word grates in the cramped space, echoing along the seats and sucking out the air. By the time they get back to reality, Lilly and Lola are both uncomfortable; they just stare as Hannah disappears with a ruthless efficiency. Miley tucks the last remnants of her other self into the closet, and as the door shuts Lola feels her presence looming uncomfortably like an elephant in the room, and no one knows quite what to say.
Lilly silently contemplates the years of practice that Miley has had, wonders if those countless concerts make it easier to just lock herself away, but doesn't say anything. Her other, better half is in the room, and you don't interrupt Lola when she wants to speak, or think, or live. Lola just stares at Miley, the girl she doesn't really know, and flashes a smile, larger than life. She punctuates the awkward pause with a giggle, but isn't prepared for Miley to step into her personal space, much too close for someone she has only met in passing. The prying hands that remove each and every bangle and bring her down to drab reality are not welcome, but for once Lola is at a loss for words.
Lilly walks back home in the dark, a cool breeze grazing her cheeks before moving on and stars just a little bit too bright in the sky. There's an empty space where her personality should be, and she has to think just a little bit too much to keep each foot going, one in front of the other. Her mind is a little hazy, and the world spins from the kind of high that alcohol and drugs could never give. When she slips into bed her mind is somehow completely devoid of the million thoughts that should be there, and she drifts off to sleep on a whim.
The next morning, Lilly doesn't really remember much of the previous night. If she concentrates, she can almost feel the neon colors swirling around her, calling up foreign emotions that she can't quite process, memories that aren't really hers.
Mostly, Lilly just remembers the uncomfortable feeling of loneliness and the persistent itch of a wig she can't remove.