Rey slips herself into a peach colored sheath dress. It's tasteful, she hopes, simple and not too flashy. She'd spent weeks looking for the perfect thing to wear today, and then quite a few more weeks agonizing over whether or not she'd made the right choice.
That's what happens when your husband is distant and his best friend signs you up to receive a makeover on national television. You begin to question if your fashion choices have ever really been passable, if your appearance is really so horrifying that it calls for immediate rectification in front of a live studio audience on the fucking Qi'ra Show, and millions of other viewers watching at home.
The fact that she'd won it over who knows how many other applications had just been further confirmation that yes, yes she really must be that pathetic. She's a charity case again, poor little scrappy orphan, and it makes her feel sick.
Poe had said the dress was a good choice, though. He hadn't quite expressed the level of enthusiasm over it that she'd hoped he would, but at least he'd looked at it.
Besides, Poe Dameron was maybe not the most attentive husband lately, but he wouldn't lie to her. He definitely wouldn't let her embarrass herself on live TV in an ugly dress.
She blows out a shaky breath, checking her reflection in the mirror. She's nervous as hell and it shows. She's flushed, sweating, her trembling fingers won't stop fussing with her hair. The makeup department had encouraged her to do her own makeup, suggesting that she play up the "struggling house wife look."
She isn't exactly sure if that's the look she's wearing now. She thinks she looks more like "a mess trying and failing to look like less of a mess."
Maybe that works, too.
She brings her fingers through her hair again and teases it up a bit, wondering what she might look like when filming is over. What sort of changes will they make to her? Will she like them? And more importantly, will Poe like them?
Maybe he'll look at her like he used to again?
Maybe he'll want her again?
They were only three years into their marriage after all, practically still in the honeymoon phase. It seemed far too early for the passion to be drying up, but it had, suddenly, some eight or nine months ago.
Poe buried himself in work, took every business trip he was offered, every hour of overtime, every opportunity he could get to be away.
From her.
Or at least, that was what the ugly voice in her head whispered every time.
She doesn't understand it and she's tried everything. She's suggested marriage counselling, she's tried keeping him plied with all of the things that women's magazines claim men love; blow jobs and lingerie, even an indecent amount of money spent on equally indecent merchandise bought from a pleasure party that Kaydel had hosted.
All of it still unopened and neglected in the farthest corner of her closet, as if it were a dirty secret that should be kept hidden.
Today, she hopes, is a turning point.
It shouldn't have taken Armitage Hux and Ricki Lake wannabe Qi'ra to be the catalyst for it, but that's how desperate Rey is to fix her marriage. She agreed to let Hux sign her up for this stupid makeover, and now here she is, alone in a dressing room on the set of a talk show, waiting to go live on television, just to make her husband remember whatever it was he saw in her in the first place.
A tall, muscled man comes to collect her. He's wearing a dark red t-shirt with the word SECURITY printed across it in blinding yellow. He leads her into a small room that is no bigger than a closet, and gestures for her to sit on the stool inside. She does, facing a door with a large window in the middle. It overlooks a startling massive crowd and her nerves spike.
Crowd size always seems smaller on television, more intimate. There must be at least one hundred people out there right now. The show hasn't even started yet, and already most of their eyes are on her.
She wonders what they're thinking, and suddenly feels like a circus exhibit. They should hang a sign on the door that reads: "World's most pitiful woman."
"Alright Mrs. Dameron, you're going to need to put these on," the security guard hands her a pair of thickly padded headphones and a white eye mask. She takes them tentatively, but only blinks at them, confused.
"Why do I need these?"
The man smiles kindly at her, thin lips set under a thick brown mustache, amusement flickering in his cocoa colored eyes. "It's just for show ma'am, the audience thinks you're here to be surprised."
"Oh. Right. Of course." No one had told her she was supposed to act surprised about any of this. Now she feels even more pressure. "Thanks."
The man nods, and once he's checked that she can't see or hear anything, he leaves her alone in the silent room.
She twiddles her thumbs, insides writhing with nerves. Her friends back home in Chicago will be watching, Finn and Rose will be watching from her hometown in Texas, along with Han and Leia probably, Luke and Amilyn, Ben...god, she hopes not.
She doesn't know how long she's been sitting there, it feels like an eternity before finally the door is open and a rush of cold air hits her. Mr. Security removes the headphones. "Alright ma'am, come on out now. I've got you."
She still can't see a thing, but she can feel him take her hand. He leads her for a few steps and then softly presses her down onto a sofa.
The crowd is clapping and cheering, and loud music plays as she gets settled. She can feel someone next to her, and smells heavy cologne. It's familiar, but it's not Poe.
"So, tell us Rey," a voice she recognizes as Qi'ra's prompts, "How do you feel?"
"Oh, I, um-" it should be easier to get words out when she can't actually see the crowd or the cameras pointed at her. Somehow, it's worse. "I'm good, thanks."
Qi'ra laughs softly, "Good, that's good. Now, tell us, do you recognize the voice of the person sitting next to you?"
Rey turns to the side of the sofa she can feel the other body on. "Hello Rey."
British accent, polite, proper. Tinted with an edge of bitterness. "Armitage?"
"Correct," Qi'ra says, a smile in her voice. "Go ahead and take off your blindfold for us."
Rey pulls it over her head, and immediately squints at the brilliant white lights pouring down on her.
"Rey," Qi'ra begins, drawing her attention as her eyes struggle to adjust to the sudden burning flood of illumination. "Hux tells us that he is your husbands' best friend."
"Yes, that's right," Rey agrees nervously. "They've been friends ever since we moved to Chicago, around three years ago."
"Mhm," the woman replies, noncommittally. "He tells us that he cares about you and your husband very much."
Does he? Rey has never been sure if he cares for her at all. He's nice enough, and he and Poe get along great, but he's always stiff with her, always guarded. She'd been surprised when he'd offered to sign her up to appear on this show. He usually didn't take much interest in her outside of forced interactions.
"Um okay," Rey smiles, but she's really suddenly terrified. Has Poe said something to Hux about their marriage trouble? Is it about to be made public knowledge that Hux took pity on his friend and brought his wife here to try and make her appealing to him again?
Qi'ra continues, "The last thing he wants to do is hurt you in any way."
Rey gives an awkward laugh. It's a bit late for that, his thinking she needed this already stung but, "Okay?"
"Go ahead Armitage, tell Rey the reason why she's here today."
He shifts uncomfortably and turns to face her. She's expecting: "Your husband no longer finds you attractive. You are a hot mess and you need a miracle."
Instead she hears: "Poe and I are having an affair."
The words don't even register at first, as if her brain refuses to accept that she'd even heard them at all.
"What?" She laughs, because really, he must be telling a bad joke.
But he never jokes. She doesn't think he even knows how.
"He doesn't love you anymore," Hux offers more bluntly, "He wants to be with me."
There is a collective pitying "aww" from the crowd, most likely coached out of them by teleprompters.
"I don't-I...I'm sorry, I.." she's stuttering now, flailing for words like a falling person reaching for something to grab hold of. But there is nothing, her mind is only full of "he doesn't love you anymore."
What words can possibly be said to that?
It's her worst fear, spoken to life, waking an old pain from its dormant slumber.
Her parents didn't love her. Poe doesn't love her.
What the fuck is she going to do now?
Stupidly, all her horror-stricken mind can think to ask is, "You're sleeping with him?"
Hux looks at her like she is as stupid as she feels. "Well...yes," he answers coolly, she almost expects him to follow it up with "duh."
"Oh god," she breathes, torn between being sick and absolutely shattered. It feels like there is a red-hot coal in her chest, aching and throbbing in time with the rapid beating of her heart.
"Actually," Qi'ra chimes in, "Armitage told us that he's had sex with your husband, in your home, on your living room floor."
The crowd follows up with some shocked "ooh's" and whistles.
Her jaw drops, she stares at Hux in open disbelief.
"Oh. Oh my god," she snaps her eyes away from him as the image of that becomes seared into her brain. She buries her face in her hands, rocking back and forth. "Oh god, oh god."
In her home, her home, the first time she'd ever felt like she truly had one and they'd...they'd...
They'd fucked on the floor!
Poe had never been adventurous with her. He'd never fucked her anywhere except for a bed, and he hadn't done that in nearly a year.
"I'm going to be sick," Rey mumbles into her hands, teetering on an edge between sobbing uncontrollably and retching all over the navy colored carpet.
"Why don't we hear what Mr. Dameron has to say for himself, hm?" Qi'ra asks the crowd, who boo as if they are on Rey's side, as if they aren't enjoying watching her entire life coming apart right now.
"Come on out here, Poe."
The security lead him out blindfolded too, the sight of him makes her heart collapse.
He's frowning as the guard leads him to the sofa and plants him right in between her and Hux. Does he have any idea why he's being booed? Did he know that she wasn't really here for a makeover? Surely his lover—and fuck does that twist the knife—informed him of all this?
"Why don't you go ahead and remove your blindfold, Poe?" Qi'ra encourages sweetly. Poe does, looking at Hux first, smiling, and then her.
His smile falls and he swallows nervously.
Qi'ra cuts mercilessly to the chase. In a serious tone she asks, "Poe, are you having an affair with your best friend?"
The lights dim, and a spotlight aims right at him. He seems to understand that there can be nothing but truth here now. No more lies, no more cover ups. He has to come clean, and somehow, she still finds herself hoping he'll tell her it isn't true, that he does still love her, that everything is okay.
"Yes," he answers hesitantly, not meeting her eyes. "Yes ma'am, I am."
The crowd jeers and boo's, an empty backdrop to the absolute chaos in her mind, in her heart. She chokes out a sob and can no longer endure the torment of having him next to her, next to Hux. The cameras are zooming close to capture every facial expression, every gasp or tear, like blood in the water with hungry sharks.
Thankfully, they cut to a commercial break, and Rey takes the opportunity to run off stage, in a rush to put as much distance between herself and this place as she can. She hurriedly gathers her things from the dressing room, ignoring the two security guards following after her, trying to get her to come back.
She can't control any other area of her life right now, but she can at least control the number of people who will be privy to her emotional breakdown.
That number will be one.
Just her.
It's always going to be just her now, isn't it?
In a quiet daze, she starts her car and navigates back to her hotel. It's the calm before the storm, she knows once she gets to the safety of her room, she will no longer be able to hold it together.
Well, she thinks bitterly,hands gripping the steering wheel in a white knuckled hold, that was one hell of a makeover.