Dollface woke up in bed and sat very, very still.
She tried to remember her surroundings.
A bed piled high with Funtum plush toys, a half-finished mural on her door, and a pillow that smelled like her.
Dollface sat still on her side, looking like she'd been hit by a bus until she just couldn't sit still.
That was approximately five minutes.
Dollface didn't sit still very well.
She rolled over and grabbed her phone from the nightstand and slapped around, pillow soaked with blood and her nose still draining.
She realized with an annoyed groan that her nose wasn't the only thing draining blood this morning, and she had killer breath to boot.
Any other nasty surprises wanting to announce themselves at this moment, or would they be alerting her of their presence later in the day?
Dollface picked up her phone, holding it over her face and began scrolling through the first app she tapped.
It was SnapChat.
Mostly snaps from yesterday.
She rewatched Izzy's Snap.
Izzy and Ben celebrating their sixth month anniversary with cows.
It was always cows.
Dollface felt a funny feeling in her but.
Was it her period?
Or was it a very new sense of disdain?
Corporate account had already been updated.
It was just a loop of Wolfie backflipping in her striped catsuit.
Wait, that's new footage.
Dollface shouldn't wonder, even after the lawsuits and allegations of everything from stalking to all kinds of assault, the wild girls were still performers for Fazbear Entertainment.
Bored, as usual, Dollface checked the search friends and scrolled through the recommendations and stopped at the very end, feeling her chest drop out of her chest and roll under the bed.
Dollface sat up, raising a leg then crossing it, phone cradled in her lap. She unlaced her spindly fingers and stared at the bitmoji on the very end.
She looked around the room and sighed.
It would be weird……
Black hair in that popular three-quarter faded shave, dark sunglasses and brown skin, as well as a basic white teeshirt.
And under the little cartoon profile?
Dorado Diaz.
Dollface tossed the phone onto the other end of the unmade bed and stood in socked feet on the soft pink carpet.
Dollface stumbled over to the private bathroom and brushed her teeth, put on a pad, then swallowed an ibuprofen with a cupped handful of water.
She'd never had her own bathroom before.
There'd only been one in the entire house back in Elmore.
She slumped by her pillow, hands folded between her knees.
Dollface glanced at the black screen of her phone.
Her tangled, red encrusted blonde tangles fell in her face.
She stood up again.
She needed a shower.
So she took a shower.
Dollface cleaned up and put on a white turtleneck and jeans, slipped on her boots and combed out her wet matts.
She finished combing, put the comb back where it belonged, and looked out the apartment window.
She felt slight vertigo, remembering how high up she was, then remembered she could fly and calmed down.
Dollface turned away, drawing the curtains and turning on the light.
It made little effect on the dim room, just turned it from a dull cast to a warmer, more golden one.
Dollface picked up her phone, pressed her thumb down, and scrolled through SnapChat again, and pressed, 'Add'.
"Oh, I see you're awake."
Dollface looked up, placing the phone on her antique nightstand.
Sebastian smiled crookedly at her.
"Didn't realize Phantomhives or Cowatchs could be morning people." He said, setting out a tray.
Dollface watched him, "I take after Grampa."
He stood from his stoop and sniffed the air, pupils enlarging.
"Did you…" he said, almost a soft growl, "bleed?"
"Ja." Dollface said, looking up from her bed, "Just a nosebleed."
Sebastian watched her unrumple her bed for a moment, then said, "I do believe that is my job."
"So?"
Sebastian continued setting out the tray on his folding stand like a waiter at the nice restaurant the family had gone to last night.
Dollface was sure her father had paid the place to keep from letting other diners come.
Dollface decided the food had been very average and named badly for what they were paying for and wished there had been a real conversation.
Oh well, she got a ride on Uncle Sebbie's shoulders all the way back to his car.
"Uncle Sebbie, does Ciel hate me?"
"Oh, no, of course not dear." Sebastian said. He held up a pot of tea. "Well, since you made the bed, may I join you for early morning conversation?"
"Okay."
"For this morning, I have prepared a lovely bacon and cheese steamed souse vidĕ with a hot, sweet decaf coffee espresso shot and a pot of almond cream, just for you, my lady."
"What?" Dollface sat on the foot of the bed, feet planted on hardwood.
"Steamed eggs and bacon with dressed-up Starbucks coffee because that's what you ordered that one time in St. Louis."
"Oh," Dollface said, fidgeting.
She looked at her hands. She'd started ripping the skin off of them again, right around the fingernails. She counted the nine rings.
Sebastian sat next to her, handing her a saucer of eggs and a fork.
Dollface dug into the little peppered cakes and ate.
"And what did the amazing princess Dollface dream of?"
"Eh," Dollface said, "I don't remember, but there was a lot of creaking and I think uncle Mike was there."
"Do you think about him often?" Uncle Sebbie asked.
"I don't try to." Dollface said, finishing her first egg.
"Why not?"
"'Cause I don't like t'talk 'bout it."
"What about Jeremy?" Uncle Sebbie asked with his immaculate accent.
"I don't like dogs."
They sat in silence.
"Can I ask you a question?" Dollface asked, swallowing the last bit of egg.
"Anything, my dear little wren."
Dollface studied her boots, taking the cup of coffee from her Uncle's slender hands.
"Why does Cie- I mean, Dad, act like that?"
"Like what, Wren?"
Dollface swallowed her spit and thought of how to word it.
"Why does dad act so high and mighty then pretend I don't exist?"
"I think it's the way he was raised." Uncle Sebbie said.
"How so?" Dollface demanded.
The butler scratched his neck, thinking. "Well..."
"What?" Dollface barked, then snapped her mouth shut when she heard how demanding one word could sound.
"Well," Sebastian said, "Your father was raised at a time when the rich separated themselves away from their own children. They send them away to schools across the country and farm them out to relatives."
"Well that's stupid."
"Your father wasn't so lucky." Sebastian said, "He was a very sick child, so his older brother did all that while he was locked in his room somewhere in the mansion."
"Weird." Dollface said.
"And on his tenth birthday, Ciel watched everything go horribly, horribly wrong."
"I think we all do." Dollface laughed.
"No, not quite like that." Sebbie said, face paling even further than his usual pallor. Dollface was beginning to believe his real name was John MacClean, he even had the same genderless voice.
"Does this have something to do with all those charities and why he started crying in court about William's victims?"
"Yes." Sebbie said, a distant sadness in his red eyes.
They sat in silence again.
"Everything changed after that." Sebbie finally said, standing up and grabbing the French Press to refill Dollface's cup. He poured the almond milk in, turning the blackness into a pale shade of brown. Then he topped it with a light pooling of foam.
Dollface sipped, listening.
"He watched his entire family die, then was sold into a child sex ring by a third party."
Dollface set her coffee cup on her knee, fingers looped through the handle.
"I met him, eventually, got him out, brought him home, and gave him a new normal." Sebbie said, "And the family trades were handed to him."
"The company?" Dollface asked.
"And more." Sebbie said, "And sadly, you'll get the 'and more' part."
"Whaddya mean?" Dollface asked.
"Your father works for the queen as her personal henchman."