January 9th, Thursday, 1998

Ugh, the work of an Ashley is never done, huh, dear diary?

Just when I thought things were FINALLY back to normal, I literally run into one headfirst, which is really bad for my poise and posture! It's hard to keep that stuff looking just right, you know?

Now, I know, diary, what you are thinking: "Ashley, you've lied and broken promises and stuff before, like, you can totally ditch freakapalooza and take a one-way ticket outta geekville!".

And normally I would do just that!

But, despite things being back to normal, that now feels…

I don't know.

Ugh. Gross. Moral conflict. SOOOOOOO 1 million billion thousand years ago when my parents shared their tax returns with whatever was alive back then. Cockroaches? They seem old. Maybe bell bottoms and genres that aren't pop music.

Oh, I gave myself the creeps now! Excuse me while I, um, protect Ashley M by placing her in front of me and shivering.

Oh, wait, table that for later (took that from my mom, I sound so sophisticated! :3), dad's calling us down for dinner! I hope it's really fancy so I can brag about it to Gretchen tomorrow!

NOT THAT I'M GOING.

Or maybe I am?

UGH!

When Ashley made her way downstairs, Ashley M the cat curling around her neck like a stylish scarf, she was met with a surprising scent. Wrinkling her nose, she tried to detect it, but because it didn't smell like some sort of pizza or salad, she had no idea what it could be. 'I hope it's nothing TOO fattening. I already had the "Everything but The Kitchen Sink" Fro-Yo, I wouldn't want to lose my figure just as I gain my friends!'

Ignoring that no 9-year-old should think like that, Ashley WAS right, something WAS different. A strange red viscous thing was in every single plate, with some green stuff? It almost looked like a watermelon if it had a botched nose job. Everything job, actually.

The surgeon/maniac behind this odd happening was Ashley's father, Xavier Armbruster, his silly "Kiss the cook" apron stained with red fish marks. Ashley, rolling her eyes, patted him on the head as she passed him. 'Daddy, how many times have I told you that apron doesn't match the dining room's tiles, let alone walls?'

'I don't know, how many?', Mr. Armbruster joked, as he tried not to fall down from Tyler and Brittney rushing onto their chairs. Ashley gulped and pretended she didn't actually know ("13 times, every 4 months he's done this since I was 4").

Ashley instead chose to stare at the plate below her. The squishy substance was like imitation designer jeans for Jell-O, no doubt, she thought. 'Daddy, what is this?', she asked, pointing at the meal in trepidation. 'This could contain loser cooties for all I know!'

'This? It's food!', he joked, placing some candles, flowers, gemstones, all around the table and dining room, plus shaving some ice into an elegant glass of champagne that was generously filled.

Ashley rolled her eyes while her little sister and brother giggled at the dad joke. 'Daddy, for a salesman, you really aren't pitching this well. Think of your demographic!'

'Hmm, well…', Mr. Armbruster walked over towards Ashley and revealed a little sketchbook, pocket sized, that he carried inside a little suitcase. Opening it up towards the middle, he revealed a detailed black and white pencil sketch of the food they were all having, set on a lavish dinner table at the kind of fancy party Ashley always dreamed of attending. There were quite a few famous faces she recognized, too!

'Your Ginger Spice has improved immensely.', Ashley noted, impressed. 'Yeah, I've been working on the red hair, but it doesn't pop as much as I'd like to.', he replied, circling the spice girl's head. Ashley noticed there was a little pink and orange spot near the sketch, but everything else was black and white. Perhaps he had taken the wrong drawing tool by mistake, she often did that too.

'As you see, however, all the big-time groups are eating this. It's called Tuna Tartare, French-Japanese thing.'

'It's big? I've… I've never heard of it!', Ashley exclaimed in surprise, not out of outrage, but true-blue shock. Mr. Armbruster, knowing his daughter loved to maintain standards, was quick to reassure. 'Now, don't worry, pumpkin, I didn't hear of it myself until today! One of our more lucrative customers mentioned it and I thought, hey, it's around the time I do more than order something for us and figured it would be a stylish dinner for my prince and princesses!'

The kids all smiled pleasantly at their father. While they weren't sure about the meal, he always knew how to make them feel like the center of his universe.

'Hmm. Exemplary work, dear. Keeping top of the pops is exactly the work ethic an Armbruster is expected of. I see you took my advice on listening by, ha, listening! My humor is, like, totally schway!'

Everyone perked up their ears and looked up with immediate attention, as if they were in the presence of a queen, a backstreet boy, even!

And they were, minus the boy part.

After all, when Mrs. Armbruster looked up from her work and addressed the others at dinner, it must have been important!

Mr. Armbruster quickly added some more shaved ice to the champagne, flashing a mega watt smile that would blind a blind man even more, excessive sequels, like all rich people like. 'Is dinner to your liking, beloved?'

'Totally, dear. Like, I think it's given me enough of an energy boost to, like, crunk it up the two of us tonight. My customers can wait.'

Mr. Armbruster looked ridiculously pleased, and he gladly retrieved the car keys. 'Wherever you want to go for some late-night shopping, just say and I'll take us!'

Mrs. Armbruster didn't wear the pants in the relationship. She designed them.

Ashley grinned secretly, petting Ashley M under the table as a way to hide her smile. Most kids found romantic moments between their parents gross, but she was happy to see them getting along so well. 'Kinda like me and the other Ashley's, just in a different context.', she mused, getting back to a proper seating position.

The Tuna Tartar looked back at her, so daunting yet so intriguing. She hesitantly stabbed her fork into one, juice oozing out of it onto the plate. 'Gross.', she whispered, grimacing. 'I had no idea they made food for nerds. Gotta be a niche demographic.'

'Everything okay, superstar?', Mr. Armbruster asked, as he massaged his wife's shoulders, his plate untouched for different reasons to his daughter. 'You haven't touched your food yet.'

Ashley's cheeks stung red. She was often rude and dismissive, but that was her daddy. She never wanted to hurt HIS feelings, he was cool, and not a fellow Ashley, where the rules were more flexible. Plus, he was wearing a very tre chique scarf around his neck, which would forgive most crimes in her mind. 'Oh, um, I'm just thinking.'

'Stop the presses.', Tyler joked, making Britney snort out some of the tuna juice from her nose.

Ashley gagged, protecting her clothes with an apron identical to her mothers (not exactly her style for an apron, but mothers do know best!). 'You two are SOOOOOO GROSS! Are you sure you're not adopted? Ugh, Mommy, if we put them up for sale at half price, you think some freak might use them as doorstops?'

'Now, Ashley…', Mrs. Armbruster started, her face getting wiped by her husband. 'Don't make me laugh during dinner. I'm liable to ruin my dress.'

'Ashley. Tyler. Remember what we say.', Mr. Armbruster reminded, wagging his finger a tad, though still trying to remain nice.

Ashley and Tyler sighed in unison and recited in monotone 'Beauty, style, and attitude would prevail.'

'Magnifique! So, Ashley, what are you thinking about? Can I buy it? Is it something for the weekly sleepover? I can go out now and get it if you…', Mr. Armbruster started, removing his small change wallet that was overflowing with 100's.

'Oh, no, it's not something you can buy!', Ashley started, causing everyone to gasp. 'A truly SCANDALOUS predicament! Oh, do share the dirt, Ashley!', Mrs. Armbruster enthused, sipping her champagne daintily. Ashley attempted the same with her diet coke, but she could never get the finger formations JUST right.

'Well…', she started, trying to withhold as much info as possible. She did NOT want them to know about the Ashley breakup, lest they make fun of her for forgetting Purple day, or worse, think she was losing her edge by asking a freak for help! 'I, well, someone from school helped me get some important Ashley business done… Like, helped, totally more like they volunteered because I'm just SOOOO fabulous, you know how it is, I can't help being adored!'

Everyone nodded, like it was matter of fact. Good, it was working.

Now came the hard part.

Ashley, shrinking a little, suddenly got a little mumbly. Her confidence and veneer were slipping, and she almost sounded more uncertain and conflicted than annoyed by this conflict of interest. 'And I may have sort of kind of promised something in return. Simply out of etiquette, valiant service getting paid back and all! I was really, like, just being a supremely generous lady if you think about it, because an Ashley's, nay, an Armbruster's time is super valuable, I could have had her talk to the hand, but I just felt very merciful that day, you know? Gotta give the fans something, a dog needs a bone every once in a while…'

'Ashley, you're rambling. Short sweet and to the point is the name of the game. We don't have time for long talks.', Mrs. Armbruster chided, and Ashley blushed, flustered at her faux pas. 'Totally, mommy.'

'Hmm.', Mr. Armbruster meanwhile seemed thoughtful. 'So, basically, you, like, owe this person a favor?'

'As if! She didn't even make it obligatory! What a loser!', Ashley insulted, but for some reason it didn't feel as fun as usual.

Still a little fun. But not majorly fun.

'Well, what is this nonobligatory favor?'

Ashley lost her mojo once more. Circling her plate with the fork, she choked out 'Oh, um, she wants to take me to this… Museum.'

'The new museum that opened? Nerd!', Tyler laughed, and Ashley shook her fist. 'Museums are so passe.', Brittney muttered from her sippy cup. 'They never let you tie up the guides.'

'Now, now. Let's get to what matters, children. Ashley, like, give it to me as it is.', Mrs. Armbruster expressed, actually staring the girl in the eyes. Ashley felt so proud! A stare, from mother? She kept her poise and flashed her most sassy smile.

'Would it be funny if you didn't go?'

Oh, how Ashley WISHED she could tell her it was! How she wished she could partake in such a delightful prank, a classic Ashley's maneuver! To string Gretchen through all that and then just leave her out to dry? It was the kind of thing she and the other Ashley's would laugh about till their stomach's hurt! She had never done such a thing before, admittedly, but it sounded like quite the fashionable joke!

But… Somehow…

'It just doesn't feel right. I feel all weird in my stomach, and I haven't even taken a bite of this funky thing.', Ashley thought, biting her lip, her sassy smile gone. Would her mother do the same thing? Would she agree it wasn't worth the laughs?

'...Oh, I… I wouldn't say so.'

'Huh. Guess this girl isn't enough of a loser then. Gotta hate indecisive people like that.', Mrs. Armbruster concluded, turning back to her work. Well, she didn't seem dismissive! 'I'll take that as a win for Ashley A!', Ashley concluded.

Still, there was the matter of actually going.

'Well, how come you DON'T seem happy to go, Ashley? It doesn't sound so bad to me.', Mr. Armbruster asked.

Ashley rolled her eyes. Father could be so dumb. 'Ugh, duh? Daddy, it's a museum! Where nerds and freaks and losers all hang around talking about things that literally happened sooooooo yesterday! Like, we're all about not yesterday! And they all wear suspenders… And bow ties… And…', she gasped, as if she just saw Dracula and Frankenstein wear sandals with socks. 'AND POCKET PROTECTORS!'

The whole family gasped as well, Britney nearly choking on her food.

'Ashley, do please refrain from such… Vulgar words at the dinner table.', Mrs. Armbruster insisted, throwing salt over her shoulder just in case.

'Sorry, sorry. I just mean… If I'm caught there, it could ruin my reputation! People could be really upset! What if this causes a nationwide depression?', Ashley spiraled, seeing the headlines now, "Local Beauty Queen Loses Glamour; What's the point in smiling if Ashley A isn't perfect?". 'I could never hurt anyone THAT badly! Well, maybe Spinelli. Or Gus. But not cool people!'

'Perhaps. But, if I may speak out of line, an Armbruster ALWAYS keeps their promises! And you did promise, didn't you?', Mr. Armbruster pointed out, looking right through Ashley.

Ashley gulped. She suddenly sounded very small. 'Perhaps?'

Sighing, she looked at her fork. 'I know, daddy. But what if it's… Lame?!'

'You'll never know if you don't try, just like that Tuna Tartar! Sometimes what looks lame on the outside is Gucci on the inside!'

Ashley tilted her head, curious. She tried the Tartar, scared, but slowly inching forwards until it was too late to back out.

Her surprised, satisfied smile said it all. She made the tiniest cooing noise. 'Hmm. Intriguing.', she mused.

Just before bedtime, already tucked in her heart pajamas and applying a sleepy time facial and hair bow to herself and Ashley M, Ashley A stared at the mirror, wondering about the potential events of tomorrow.

'On the one hand, I really REALLY don't wanna do this.', she spoke to Muffin and herself, scowling at her reflection. She looked like someone had rained on her parade, them told her she was so yesterday.

Looking to the side, she saw a framed picture of her and the other Ashley's, all posing with peace signs and winks, looking as extra as ever. Smiling wistfully, she sighed, half annoyed half grateful. 'On the other hand, my life would literally be over if it weren't for you, Gretchen. A few more hours of that are, like, nothing compared to an entire life. Math so simple my siblings could do it.'

Still, couldn't she avoid it anyway? Wouldn't it be funny? Maybe if she tried harder, she would enjoy ruining Gretchen's day, breaking a promise, heck, maybe she could find a way to make fun of her privately with the other Ashley's. Technically she wouldn't be breaking her promise. 'Oooh, or I could go to the museum with the other Ashley's to mock all the nerds! Then I would be keeping my promise (sort of) and still actually have fun!'

She looked at the mirror, sporting her best sassy, mean spirited smile, the one that enjoyed seeing people beneath her suffer. Seeing them realize they weren't as good as her, punished for being lame. She loved being mean sometimes, she loved seeing people get embarrassed for not being an Ashley.

Yet, no matter how hard she tried to picture it…

'This moral code stuff is TOTALLY lame.', she frowned, crossing her arms. Sadly, no amount of effort made Gretchen's annoyed/sad/betrayed face funny, satisfying, or a win.

It just felt…

'Wrong. For once, it doesn't feel right to do wrong.', she voiced, frustrated. Muffin meowed, tilting her head, confused. Ashley chuckled and scratched her ears. 'Gretchen knows how to make mama do some strange things, Muffin. I'll give her that, it's impressive.'

Sighing again, she made up her mind. 'There's no getting rid of it. Daddy is right, an Armbruster HAS to keep their promises, at least to those who have proven worthy of that. And if I'm TOTALLY honest with myself, Gretchen deserves the face, not the hand.'

Those two seconds of unique satisfaction at her different choice didn't last long enough to stop her big dramatic sigh as she sunk into a chair and began to be all bathos and whine. 'Oh, but everyone will make fun of meeeeee! And it's so boringggg!'

Then, a new fear arose. Gasping, she stared at the picture again. 'And what if the Ashley's find out?'

Grabbing Muffin, she spoke in alarm to the kitty. 'I promised I'd never hang out with Gretchen again! Sure, they might not pass by, but word could spread! Everyone will know, and that means the Ashley's! I JUST got them back!'

Muffin looked concerned, but she shrugged. Ashley bit her lip. 'Good point. This will take some thought.'

Sitting down again, Ashley got so worried that she accidentally rubbed her face mid facial. Tongue sticking out in disgust, she grimaced. 'Eww! Now I have to do it all over again or I'll look pasty! Ugh, all this worry must be bad for my skin anyway! Is that a wrinkle, Ashley M?'

Muffin shrugged once more as Ashley inspected her green face. Sighing sadly, she clenched her fists and slammed them on the desk. 'Stupid genius Gretchen! Why oh WHY does she have to be such a nerd? Museum? Who goes there for FUN?! Nerds, that's who! If only she looked like me, maybe, MAYBE I wouldn't be…'

And just like that, Ashley's eyes narrowed, and her nose wrinkled, and her face lit up like a Christmas tree as an idea struck her. Smirking confidently, proud of her brilliance, she began to laugh slyly.

'Or perhaps… If only I looked like her…'

Slowly, she reached towards her diary to write a reminder for tomorrow's VERY quick shopping spree before the museum…

Sorry for the two and a half month hiatus, personal project burned me out, I'm back in the groove though! Next time: The museum chapter, which is REALLY important for the rest of this story!