Caterina Valentine: My Life by alolime
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Chapter Eighteen: Monstrous, Envious Perfection
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This writing is for present day text or speech, this writing is for Cat's tapes and notes, this writing is for scenes in the past. The present here is from Jade's point of view.
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We left the RV as soon as we'd finished listening to Cat's tape. Robbie was crying, I was crying - none of us weren't crying. My eyes were stinging, and my makeup had run so badly that I didn't even bother washing my face when I got home; it's been hours now and any last dregs of it have surely been smeared off by my pillowcase.
I don't even attempt to stop my crying anymore. I couldn't if I tried.
I look up at Tori, her head at the foot of my bed. We sleep head to toe when she stays over, so neither of us feels in the way of the other. We can text, or scroll through memes, or cry, without feeling too watched by one another.
When she'd offered to stay over again last night, I didn't object. These days, her company brings me more comfort that I like to admit but I'm past the point of pride. Feeling the rise and fall of my comforter at my feet from the movements of her breath calms me down a little. I always feel tense, all over my body. My shoulders ache, my head throbs, my insides twist and turn. It's nice that Tori doesn't want me to be alone with it. Astounding that she's willing to invest so much time into me, even though all I ever do is complain that I don't feel well.
As if on cue, I hiccup and pockets of saliva spill onto my tongue and my mouth tastes sour. My stomach twinges and it's automatic now, as I shoot up from the bed and get myself to the bathroom.
I lean over the toilet bowl and heave, saliva and bile and half-digested food splattering into the bowl. I cough, and my forehead prickles with sweat and I close my eyes with relief. Before long, I feel the familiar sensation of one hand circling up and down my back, the other pulling my hair from my face, and Tori joins me on the ground beside me. She must have heard me from the bedroom.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and Tori grabs a plastic cup from the counter, filling it with water, and I take it graciously. I stumble up, closing the toilet lid and flushing before sitting on it. I take a sip of water, and then another. Tori perches on the edge of the bath.
"Thank you, Vega," I say. My voice is raspy.
She smiles a small smile at me. "It's fine. I'm sorry you're not feeling good."
I chuckle. It's all part of it. Having…being…well, pregnancy.
Nobody said it was going to be easy. Nobody said I'd even be doing this at seventeen years old, but I guess life doesn't always go to plan. I should have made better decisions. I should have been more careful.
I should stop these thoughts before I end up in another viscous loop of pointless, futile regret.
Tori somehow reads the topic on my mind and lets out a small sigh. "When are you going to tell him?" she asks. "I really think it'll make things easier. For the both of you."
And I know this, believe me, I know this, but I can't bring myself to think about anything to do with this baby - apart from how to convince myself not to sew my mouth shut to stop this glamorous morning sickness.
I know he deserves to know, but I don't know how I'd even tell him. Tori has told me how many different ways there are - I can tell him on my own, I can take him to the clinic and tell him there, give him a print from an ultrasound, write him a letter, even call him, if I can't face him in person.
But I can't. I can't do any of that.
He's under so much stress. I'm under so much stress. I can't think straight and I need Cat and I'm always, always jittery, it's like my brain knows everything that's going on and is beginning to short-circuit. The only rest I get is from my dreamless nights and even then, as soon as I'm awake, I'm overheating again.
These tapes are taking the life from us all. Beck can't handle the news of a new life being forced upon us - not when it's a life from him.
This is not what I had planned.
I wish Cat were here to help me decide what to do.
My hair falls around my face as I drop my gaze to the ground, ignoring Vega's voice asking if I'm okay. I squeeze my eyes shut.
I wish Cat were here, period.
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Tori sent a text to the group to let them know I'm not well, that Beck should bring the tapes and tape player to my house so we can listen to them here. I don't have to get out of bed, but I also don't waste a day of hearing Cat's voice.
By the afternoon, we are all sat around my bed and the player is on the foot of it. I'm on my bed, sat up with my legs crossed. Tori is sat beside me. Robbie and André are on the sofa beside my bed, by the open window.
Beck is slumped on the floor, his upper back resting against my bed frame.
Actually, we used to sit like this a lot. Bar the rest of them, of course - just me and Beck, I mean. Him sat on the floor and me on my bed, and I'd drape my arm over the edge of the mattress and tangle my hand in his hair. We'd hum to music, or sing together, or I'd tell him a current play idea. Things were so easy and I always felt at home.
At home is now the furthest place I feel.
Beck doesn't look at me as he stands up, slowly, and his hand hovers over the tape player. He presses the play button and the whirr we're now all too familiar with begins. I'm close to the edge of my bed and my thighs are cramping, so when I adjust myself and untangle my limbs at the very moment Beck sits back down, his body grazes against mine.
He turns around and our eyes lock for a moment. We both tense. I look away.
"Sorry," I say, even though I didn't need to.
Even though it's not my fault, nor his fault, but both and neither of our faults all at the same time.
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"Flash forward a couple years, guys. Sophomore year, to be exact. I'm settled in high school. My favourite classes are Makeup and Music. Sikowitz's is the only class we all have together, so I guess it's the class that kept our friendship group strong. Things got so busy with now being in high school and having so much more to do so I loved having this time with you guys, more than you know.
And Sikowitz loves us. It can't be a coincidence that Jade, or Beck, always get the opportunities to help script write. André always gets to help with the musical scores. And the man loves to see us on stage - I can't remember the last time at least two of us haven't had a main role. The five of us are a unit and it works, five always works. Five was our magic number.
And then you joined, Tori. And everything changed.
I don't want this tape to be a ramble of bitterness and jealousy, even though that's all I ever felt. It wasn't your fault, Tori, you didn't do anything wrong. It's not your fault that you're better than me, anything I can ever be.
I used to compare myself to Jade but I grew out of it, I learned to love her as her and mildly tolerate myself. I crossed my fingers that I was sane enough to continue that, but when you came into our lives, I was taken aback. It all felt alien again. Envy, jealousy, I got it with the acquaintances in my life but not with my friends. And, no offence, but when you joined us so late, I thought you'd just be another acquaintance, so I let myself feel these ugly things, I didn't rebuke or resent them.
I didn't know you'd become such a big part of our lives. I didn't know five would become six.
When I'm with you, Tori, I feel two things: firstly, I feel envious of everything that you are and that I'm not, and secondly, I feel sick that I harbour this very envy at all. It's powerful. God, it's suffocating. I feel like a fake friend, a fraud.
I can't imagine how much toxicity I spew onto you, but more importantly, I can't imagine that ever changing. I feel like there's nothing better than for you to be free from…me.
I'm going to read an excerpt from my diary."
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Diary,
Sorry it's been a while.
I did something bad today. I want to die.
We're doing special effects in Makeup right now and Tori, you know Tori, she allowed me to use her as my model and I was so excited, she's so pretty and her face is perfect and she's, like, the best person ever to use for this assignment. The best.
Our theme is 'monster', so I chose a zombie. A lot of the class chose skeletons and scary clowns and other stuff that relies on cosmetic makeup, but I really want to practice 3D design and there's so much more you can do with a zombie. So many textures and creases and folds, a zombie is perfect. I planned the whole thing perfectly.
Tori's busy this weekend and it's due on Thursday so today was the last chance before the weekend I have to work on my mould. I was sitting with her in the makeup department and we had a classroom to ourselves and we were talking. I've never spoken to her much. She only started a few months ago and Jade really doesn't like her, so she only hangs out with us sometimes. But she's nice, she's really nice, and so beautiful. And her hair is so nice, and she's so skinny, god, she's so skinny. She's so perfect.
She asked me how long I'd been taking Makeup for, I told her since the 9th grade. She asked if it's fun, and I said it is.
We didn't speak much after that. I don't know how to make conversation with her. She's intimidating, she's so tall and so pretty. I can't talk to her and I know she thinks I'm annoying or stupid or weird. Since Jade and I are so close I'm sure she thinks I hate her like she does.
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"In reality, Tori, I know you thought none of that at all. But I hadn't felt as threatened before by you than I'd ever felt by anyone. It ate at me whenever I passed you in the hall or whenever you gave me a smile and now, even now, I can't look at you, Tori, without seeing you as the best version of me that I'll never be.
I'd lay in bed at night and scroll through my phone looking at clothes and makeup and hair styles to try and look like you, but as me. I logged back into my blog and re-read all of my old pro-ana posts to stop myself wanting to eat, to get myself back into the discipline, so I could have legs like you. My thigh gap again, like you. You weren't ever dating anyone at school, but you got (and still get, of course) all of this attention, and back then I craved that; Daniel was gone and I felt so alone and I wanted that, so bad. I was in this purgatory between wanting to be looked at and loved just like you were, but wanting to disappear, all the time, entirely.
I wanted everything to be like you. I wanted to be you. I feel so ashamed saying this now, so embarrassed. But it was true, and it kind of still is. I just wish I'd told you the truth instead of trying to push it all away."
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Diary, maybe that's why I opened my mouth and said the dumbest things I've ever said. Maybe that's why I thought it was best to hurt her on purpose, before I had the chance to hurt her by mistake. Or maybe that's just what I'm telling myself to make myself feel better. Maybe I'm just a demon by design.
"Beck doesn't like you," I blurt out to her, looking her dead in the eyes. Her skin is grey at this point (with clay mould) and her hair is tied into a ponytail, but I can see past it all, I know who she is underneath. She's still Tori. Perfect Tori.
I don't think about my words for a moment before they leave my mouth.
"He told me. Beck told me you make Jade feel bad and he doesn't like that because Jade is his girlfriend. And André thinks you're a showoff. And Robbie says you wear too much perfume. So I don't think you should hang out with us anymore. Maybe you should never talk to us again."
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"I don't know what I was saying, Tori, I honestly don't. I was filled with something that I can't describe, and I wanted it out. And in that moment, you were right there. I thought you were the cause of what I was feeling so I fought against you, but I was so wrong. I was so cruel. But you were too nice to even question me. You just let me carry on. I would have melted away if it were me in that chair."
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I told her so many things, Diary, none of them true. I told her there were rumours about her being spread that she'd been kicked out of her old school for sleeping with one of her teachers. That none of the sophomore year like her. I wanted to tell her that she was ugly and that her hair looked flat when it was straight and that her face was fat. Nothing that is true, everything I think about myself. I felt such a rush at the time but now I just feel disgusting. I wish, I wish I'd stopped myself.
We were still in the classroom and Tori then just moves back in her chair and I stop my work on her face. Which I 'd been continuing with during this whole outburst, by the way. I was in a haze, I think I was too far away in my head to know exactly what I was doing, I just knew I wanted it to hurt. But maybe that's more excuses.
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"You didn't come to school for a week after that, Tori, remember? Of course you remember. It was my fault. And even when you were gone, I kept up with my whirlwind of abuse. I texted you saying Sikowitz said the class was easier to teach without you there. I said that Beck was so relived because he thought you'd left for good. I told you I heard people talking about you when they passed your locker saying horrible, terrible things.
Tori, I made a hate account for you on TheSlap. I took it down very quickly and I don't think you ever saw but when I was feeling how I was feeling, I was blinded. I didn't care what I was doing. I just wanted you to hurt.
More than hurt. I wanted you to suffer.
I'm a terrible friend, as you should have gathered by all of this. I wouldn't bare having myself around myself if I were my friend, even more so if I found out that her personal mission for weeks and months was to spite you and hurt you until- until I stepped out from the fog, I guess.
I'm sorry, Tori. So unbelievably sorry. For that day in Makeup and for everything else.
You texted me saying sorry that you would no longer be able to model as my zombie for the monster project because you were too upset to come into school, and started maybe, even, perhaps transferring back to your old school, and couldn't bear to face your classes with all these people, all of your 'friends', who secretly hated you.
I told you that I'd shown my Makeup teacher some shots from the practice mask I did on you, and she said I'd done a great job, but your face carried it terribly, and that I should find someone with more symmetrical features, so no problem, sorry 2 have 2 tell u :(.
I should have sent a headshot of myself for my final submission."
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Diary, how ironic. The only monster is me.
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Author's Note
ok we have about three/four chapters left of this story before it comes to an end. this story was posted almost seven (7) years ago. SEVEN (7 BUT IN CAPITALS). it's insane. at this point i am genuinely writing this for myself just for closure and a sense of achievement because the victorious fandom literally doesn't exist anymore and neither do fanfiction dot net users. i have no intention of stopping writing (i will be on AO3!), but more on that another day. i hope to have this story completed by summer, just to be cute XDD i may try to post the final chapter on the story's actual anniversary. i know i miraculously still do have a few readers, so this is absolutely dedicated to you. my writing here is generic and basic but it fit's with the fact that this was created in 2012 xxxxx
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alolime