Special thanks to Eternity's voice, who gave me the plot-bunny for this chapter.

Now on with the fic!

Rogue sat down, preparing for the day ahead of her. She was dressed, clean, and her hair done, which only left one thing before she went downstairs - her face.

She sat down in front of the dresser in the room she shared with Kitty. An incredible assortment of deep eye shadows, dark lipstick, and more lay before her. She always put her make-up on here, where others wouldn't bother her or make those annoying comments about 'enough make-up to sink a barge.'

This was one of her favorite parts of the day. When she could almost pretend she was a normal girl like everyone else. After all, everyone put on their make-up alone. This was when she could think back, to before her mutation, before she had known she would be alone. She searched through her collection, starting to decide what she would wear that day.

Contrary to what everyone thought, she hadn't been born a Goth. She had been one of the cheerful, friendly girls everyone wanted to know. She'd been the one people went to for a shoulder to cry on. She hadn't scared anyone back then. She could be a true southern belle, and she'd enjoyed her life just the way it was. She was everyone's friend, even if they'd just met her for the first time. She started applying her foundation, nice and thick.

Then she'd had to move. At first fitting in again was hard, but it started to happen soon enough. Just when she thought she'd be fine, that she'd made new friends and could settle down to live the teenage life, they moved again. And again. She applied the little blush she used.

That was when she'd learned that nothing was permanent. That was when she'd started to shut herself off. That was why she'd chosen the Goth look - to try to keep the preppy, friendly folk away. After all, if she didn't get close to anyone, it wouldn't hurt her when she had to leave again. She didn't want to have her life torn apart again. Now for her eyes. Deep, dark colors, to tell others to stay away.

Just when she was starting to consider opening up again, it happened. She was just talking to Cody, nothing special, when he kisses her. And she discovered it. Her curse. Xavier called it her gift, but she knew better. It was a curse, one she had never wanted and would give almost anything to get rid of. She carefully checked her mask for any flaws.

Now, she knew she wasn't moving on, but she kept the Goth look. Not because she particularly liked it, but because she knew what people would do. As long as she kept the sarcasm, the biting humor and the dark make-up, she knew she could make people wary of her. She could make a statement: stay away. Stay away, and stay safe. She didn't want to hurt anyone. She just wanted to make them think she would, so they would stay away, and stay safe. She deepened her eye colors a little more, to make sure she didn't look friendly, or open.

She was nearly done with her mask. That was what her make-up was to her. A mask, so she could hide the pain. The hurt. So nobody would try to get close to comfort her. She knew what happened what they got close. This was what she told herself everyday. She had to stay tough, so they would stay safe, no matter how badly she wanted to get close. Done, but for her mouth today.

Deep in her mind, another thought surfaced. The one she'd been trying to get rid of for so many years. [The shirt you wear to keep them safe is so thin. So very thin. Barely there at all. Maybe, if you put on your mask thick enough, you can touch. Can kiss.]

Once again, she banished this thought, but her hand still reached for her thickest lipstick.

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Before I get any Goths out there ticked at me, I'm not saying everyone's like this. Just maybe Rogue, ok? So don't get ticked at me. Please?