EVIE
Evie has always had to be perfect, be the best, the prettiest. That was always easy on an Island surrounded by villains who didn't care much for how they looked, or smelled, or appeared.
"Everyone only wants two things from you, Eveline: to be you, or to take what's between your legs. Being the fairest, the prettiest- that gives you power. Making them want you. You can use that power. Flirt a little, give some attention. People will do anything for you if they think you might give them what they want."
Evie learned this around the age of twelve. She learned how to flirt and use her looks to get what she wanted. It was easy, but it was also sometimes dangerous if she came across someone not willing to be disappointed. She learned to always have a knife waiting in the other hand that she used to flirt with.
Evie learned all her lessons, both from the Isle and at home. She was the prettiest, the most sought after individual on the Isle. She had power.
Her mother was never satisfied, of course, and despite the small voice (a voice that sounds a lot like Mal, and Jay, and Carlos) telling her this is too much, her mother's lessons stuck.
But there was that voice, inside and outside, that convinced her to eat, despite her mother's rules. After all, it was easy to be prettier, better, than anyone else (except maybe Mal, if she just took better care of her hair).
That changed when she came to Auradon, when she realized that all those lessons and rules, the ones the voice whispered 'too much, too much, too much,' were actually very real in the wider world outside the Isle.
Suddenly she wasn't the prettiest, the best, absolutely perfect.
Her behavior was wrong, somehow, the slightest bit off in a way people avoided her rather than vied for her attention. People in Auradon didn't fall for her charms, or refer to her as 'princess,' and her mother's insistence- anger- that it wasn't enough, she wasn't enough, suddenly plays even louder in her head.
Her mother's insistence of spending hours in front of a mirror, doing and redoing her makeup until it was absolutely perfect, is reflected in the way she sees the bathroom mirrors taken up by rows of princesses checking their reflections and doing touch ups to their hair.
Her mother's diets don't seem so 'extra,' when she hears the other girls talking about their own diets, and what they absolutely can not eat or they will get fat, and Evie doesn't know those foods, the ones that will make you fat if you just have one bite. Her mother seemed under the impression that it was any food, and she was right about everything else- the makeup, the food, her behavior being utterly unacceptable.
She was right about Evie not being good enough, not being pretty enough, not being enough.
So Evie panics and takes to her mother's lessons all the more desperately. She cheated on her diets before, but she won't this time. No matter how much food is suddenly available, or how much Mal, Jay, Carlos, press, she won't give in. No matter how hungry, no matter how dizzy or tired or cold it makes her.
Everyone in Auradon is doing it, and they are meant to fit in, and she is meant to be the fairest. She needs to try harder. She has to.
Her friends do press, because of course they notice, they always notice. Food is something they pay attention to almost more than anything else- when it's available, when it's not, when she doesn't take her share.
It starts off with Mal and a distracted, half hearted, glare, "Eat, Evie. What did I tell you on the Isle, you're no good to me if you're too weak to fight."
"We're not supposed to fight here, Mal," she excuses and escapes the table.
It's Jay holding her waist and begging, "You have to know this is wrong, Princess. It's never been this bad before, what happened?"
"It's not wrong. I'm just doing what I need to. I need a lot more work to catch up with the real princesses."
"You are a real princess, Eves."
And she pats his wrist before twisting away. "I'm glad you think so, Jay, but I'm not."
It's Carlos tinkering with disassembled parts and taking twice as long as he normally would because he's too busy staring at her. It's, "Evie, you need to eat. You literally need it to survive. You can't be perfect if you are dead from starvation."
"I eat enough not to starve, Los."
"No, you don't. I can see your ribs. You're worse off than we were on the Isle."
"Really?" she brightens, turning to look at her reflection for the hundredth time that hour, eyes raking over her frame.
If she's not pretty, if she's not perfect, all her power goes away. She relies on people wanting her, because she's not a fighter like Mal, or fast like Carlos. Jay is the closest to come to using distraction to get what he wants, but even then, if that doesn't work, he can always turn to brawling.
She was easily the best on the Isle, but Auradon standards are very different, so she just has to try harder, like her mother has always wanted (even though she really did try her hardest even back home).
But then Mal is shoving her into a chair in their room, no longer half hearted, and slapping down a plate of food in front of her, snarling, "Evie, I swear to all that is evil, if you do not eat this, I will mark up that pretty face of yours."
Evie doesn't have to look at the hard lines or her glowing eyes to know that Mal would do as she says. You don't get taken seriously, you don't become the biggest and baddest, if you don't always, always, follow through on your threats.
Evie glances down at the full plate, anxiety spiking in her chest and making her heart ratchet so fast that she quickly becomes dizzy. She has no choice.
"All of it," Mal hisses as Evie reaches with trembling hands to take her utensils.
Her stomach snarls and swoops and churns sickeningly. She eats her plate. It takes over an hour, looking to her leader desperately after every bite with, "Mal, please." She feels sicker with every swallow. She can feel her stomach bloating and expanding, and despite that, despite Evie's voice cracking, "Mal, I'm going to be sick," Mal's glare doesn't waver.
Until Evie does actually throw up. She felt it in her throat the whole time, so it surprises her when it actually makes its escape. She's crying as her throat burns and her stomach heaves, and a princess should never be so unkempt as she knows she is. She knows she's a mess of herself, and that just makes everything so much worse.
She hadn't finished her plate, and Mal is going to mark up her face, and she'll never be perfect enough.
Only, for the first time ever, Mal doesn't follow through on a threat. Mal panics. She descends on Evie, movements and tone almost frantic as she grips her shoulders, but Mal doesn't do panic, she doesn't do frantic. But Mal pulls Evie's hair out of the way as she gags again and calls out in a very obviously panicked voice, "Carlos!"
Both Carlos and Jay burst out of the bathroom, why they were in there, Evie can't even begin to speculate at the moment.
"Why is this happening," Mal hisses at the boy, hand almost absently petting Evie's back. Despite being the cause of this, Evie can't help but take comfort from the young fae's touch. It's so rare that she shows she cares in this way. She wishes it wasn't only when things were bad.
Are things bad right now?
"I- I don't know?" Carlos flutters anxiously, looking from the vomit and then to Evie. "Maybe she ate too much? Like Jay and I after the limo when we first got here?"
"She hardly ate anything," Mal spits, but despite her harsh tone, her hands haven't left Evie. Evie's stomach continues to roll in nausea, but it also aches in hunger again, feeling sunken and carved out.
"I'll-" Carlos swallows, twisting his hands nervously. "I'll do some research. Maybe Auradon knows?"
"Don't-" Mal starts, but Jay bravely, stupidly, cuts her off.
"Draw attention. He knows to keep our business our's, Bruiser." He bends down, ignoring her glare, and rests a large hand on Evie's shoulder. "How're you doing, Princess?"
Evie opens her mouth, but only a high, teary, keening sound escapes her. She doesn't feel anything like a princess.
He sighs. "You're going to be okay, Eves."
Mal growls and shoves her face against Evie's shoulder, then roughly drags her cheek against her jacket. Her chest continues rumbling with an odd sound, but it's strangely soothing as the tight coils sitting in Evie's chest very slightly loosen enough that she can finally suck in a full breath of rancid smelling air.
It smells like home. It makes her gag again, but there is nothing left in her stomach. She already gave it all up. Crying makes your face blotchy and gross, but she sits there in her room anyway, weeping and holding her ribs together, each one prominent under her fingers.
It doesn't seem as comforting as before, and bodies flash behind her eyes, small ones, laying still in the streets, ignored as people step over them. Their little forms with ribs showing through rags and stomachs distended as their insides decided to just stop working.
Her crew has never used them as reasons she should eat. It's not like she doesn't know about them, doesn't know what killed them. Everyone knows what killed them.
But her mother… her mother is in her ear. Her anger, her berretment, her 'do it again,' 'again,' 'again.'
Out here, away from the filth, and the struggle, and the bodies, out here with the perfect princes and princesses, everything she is supposed to be and everything she knows she's not, the bodies seem farther away than her mother's voice. Her mother's lessons.
A/N: Part 2, look at that. Please let me know what you guys think, I would love to read some reviews.
~Silver~