Born in Beauty

by Melody Rose

  “I think we can say we’ve found your dress,” Janet said as she bounced on her heels and clapped her hands together. “Now, get out of that so our generous hostess can bag it up for you, and we can focus on Cheyenne.”

  My roommate turned to me, and her eyes gleamed hungrily like I was made out of meat. I quickly dashed back to the dressing room to get out of the itchy gown I was currently in and move on to Janet’s other selections.

  I felt like I tried on every dress in the store in my size. The sun was beginning to set, and my stomach grumbled at the lack of food I’d had over the last couple of hours. Janet hadn’t been as successful as she had with Violet’s dress, and while I was ready to throw in the towel and go with my pajama theory from earlier, Janet refused to accept the loss.

  “This is the cutest boutique in this town,” Janet argued as she zipped through a rack she’s been through twice already. “Everyone already bought their dresses during the first outing, and everybody bought theirs from here because each piece is unique. There’s got to be something for you here.”

  “Maybe all the good dresses in my size are gone,” I argued, wanting to listen to my stomach and not Janet’s whining.

  “I don’t believe it,” Janet said, her motions going faster and faster so that the metal hangers clattered together. “I just don’t.”

  “If I may,” the shopkeeper said, stepping in our conversation. Janet, Violet, and I all looked up at her.

  She had a heart-shaped face with a pointed chin. Her skin was vampirically pale, only enhanced by the coal-black hair that hung around her face in stick-straight lines. She parted her hair right down the middle, which did nothing for her style either. The woman looked as though she was a cousin of the Addams family. The shopkeeper reached out with a hanger hanging off a single, slender finger with the pointed black nail aimed right at me.

  “Might I suggest this?”

  On the hanger was a red floor-length gown. It was a mermaid cut with a bustle at the bottom that flared out into a short train. It was sleeveless and embroidered with crystals along the bust. I wasn’t sure I could fill that kind of dress, but I had to admit, it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

  “Of course!” Janet exclaimed, an epiphany occurring before our very eyes. “Red is the perfect color for you. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought about it before.”

  “But, my hair?” I countered, grabbing the end of my braid in my hand. “Wouldn’t it clash?”

  “Not this shade,” the shopkeeper answered. “It would highlight and even out your skin tone.”

  Janet yanked it from the woman’s hands and thrust it into my chest. “Try it on. Now.”

  I ventured into the dressing room, wanting to please Janet so she wouldn’t swallow me whole. I appreciated her enthusiasm, but it was now turning to desperation. I wasn’t nearly close to her level of urgency. I didn’t even have a date, for Pete’s sake!

  But as I slipped into the dress, the fabric seemed to mold to my body. It hugged me in all the right places and sucked in my lumps. Nothing itched or poked. In fact, the whole thing felt like a warm blanket wrapped around my body. Despite the mermaid shape, I could still take normal steps. I stood on my tiptoes and realized the dress was long enough to cover my toes if I decided to wear heels.

  When I saw myself in the three mirrors, the air flew from my lungs. Everything the shopkeeper said was true. My hair didn’t detract from the color at all. It added to it, made it flourish. Janet came up behind me and pulled my hair back, twirling the braid up at the base of my skull. With my hair out of my face, my neck looked long and elegant. I could show off my strong arms without feeling too muscular or masculine because this dress gave me curves I didn’t even know I had.

  “Wow,” Violet breathed from behind me.

  “Stunning,” Janet said with an accomplished smirk. “That’s it. I’m not giving you a choice. We’re getting this dress, and you’re going to knock them all dead at the dance!”

  Even the shopkeeper stared, though her expression was a knowing one, as if she’d known this dress was the one all along. I caught her eye in the mirror, and she gave me a wink before returning to her spot behind the counter.

  I returned my own gaze to myself in the mirror, and for the first time since this whole thing started, I was actually excited to go to the dance.

  22

  Sooner than I would have liked, the day of the dance arrived.

  I managed to suffer through a couple of more rehearsals for mine and Ansel’s performance. I showed up right on time and left the minute they were excused. I didn’t leave any time for extraneous conversation because I refused to let anything get more intense between the two of us. Oliver seemed to sense what I was doing, however, and made the fight even more intense. By the time we reached the climax when Ansel killed me and removed my mask, both of us were breathing heavily, and the room was filled with a tension we couldn’t ignore.

  Ansel threw himself into the performance every time, like a man on a mission. His energy forced mine to amp up just in order to keep up. I still had no idea what Oliver had told Ansel during that rehearsal a couple of weeks ago, but whatever it was pissed me off every single time that we ran the routine.

  I finally finished the rapiers, which quickly became some of my favorite weapons I’d ever created. The handles and guards were intricate pieces of art that appreciated their application as well as their beauty. While I tried to follow Oliver’s designs as best as I could, I realized that my own personality and touch came out in the curve of the guards and the way they intertwined.

  To my relief, Oliver was over the moon when I presented the weapons to him.

  “My dear!” he squealed as he put his thick hands up to his chubby cheeks. He put out one finger and balanced each with a master’s hand. “I have never seen their equal. You are a genius.”

  I blushed at the compliment. “It’s just a sword, Oliver.”

  “Just a…” Oliver babbled. He cleared his throat and leaned in close, like he was sharing a secret with me. “My dear, these are much more than just mere swords. They are works of art, and you should be proud of your work. Take ownership of it.” He tapped his nose. “You are a genius, and you best start believing it.”

  We used the rapiers for our final dress rehearsal. Despite the fact that I had spent all the time finding the perfect dress, I was only going to get to be in it for a short time at the start of the dance. Then I had to change into my costume. It was something straight out of a Renaissance painting, with the large bustle in the back and the corset. Except for the tight off-white pants that I wore underneath, I felt like I was being put on display by the opening in the front. Luckily, my mask didn’t impede my vision. While I’d thought I was getting a helmet of sorts, like the Amazons wore into battle, I knew I shouldn’t have expected something so traditional with Oliver.

  It was a feathered mask that looked like something a superhero would wear. It covered only a strip of my face and was hardly a mask at all. Oliver insisted that the audience needed to see my face during the performance.

  “We want them to feel your agony and share in your turmoil,” Oliver said as he waved his fists in the air dramatically.

  I wanted to point out the historical accuracy of every piece of this whole performance but decided to keep my mouth shut. I was so close to getting through this whole thing that it was pointless to pick any battles at this point.

  All classes had been canceled the day of the dance to prep. The nymphs insisted on decorating so I could have most of the day to get ready.

  “I swear I don’t need that much time,” I told them as I tried to yank a tangle of Christmas lights out of a nymph’s hands.

  With a surprising amount of strength, she pulled them away from me and hunched over them, protecting them. “Trust us. You need all the time you can get.”

  My mouth fell open at the audacity of their statement. My friend must have seen the anger spread across my face because Vio
let quickly came to my rescue and pulled me away to the bathhouse so we could begin the prim and pamper process.

  When we walked into the bathhouse, there were a series of stations that hadn’t been there before. There was waxing and manicures and pedicures and body exfoliating. Female students flitted about from station to station, while some of them relaxed in the massive center pool, completely naked. I had never seen so many people in the bathhouse at one time. It overwhelmed me, and I made to turn around and leave the way we came. Violet put her tiny self in front of me and blocked my way.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” Violet grunted as she pushed me back into the room. “We are doing this.”

  “What if I don’t want to do this?” I said, unable to hide the whine in my voice. “This is… it’s all so excessive.”

  “Trust me, you’re not the only one feeling like this,” Violet assured me.

  “Really?” I said with a straight arm out toward the flock of women in the bathhouse. “Everyone looks like they’re having a great time.”

  “These are Military women, Shy,” Violet pointed out. “Not all of them are used to this level of pampering.”

  “That’s because most of them are out of their damn minds with Love Struck,” I grimaced.

  Violet inhaled a sharp breath. “Then let them enjoy themselves and be happy before it all goes away, okay?”

  My friend made to walk past me, a stomp in her step that wasn’t there before. I wasn’t so annoyed as to not pick up the irritated tone in her voice. I whirled around and grabbed her arm.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Vi,” I stopped her. Violet shifted her weight and put her towel in front of herself, a shield. “What did you mean by that?”

  “I just mean…” Violet shrugged and looked over her shoulder at our comrades. “Love Struck has eased things up around here. It’s not so strict and rigid. Students are happy.”

  “But Vi,” I said, hesitant, “it’s not real. Their feelings aren’t real.”

  “We don’t know that,” Violet said casually, with a one-shoulder shrug. “Maybe deep down, these people do love each other, and Love Struck just gives them the courage to pursue that love.”

  “As romantic as that is, I just don’t believe it,” I admitted honestly. “I think that people should be given a choice to do what they want with their feelings and their lives. They shouldn’t be forced by some magical infatuation to pursue someone at all costs, or tie themselves to someone when they might not want to.”

  I twisted my fingers nervously, knowing this wasn’t what my friend wanted to hear. “I know Love Struck seems all magical, but that’s because it is magic. And magic shouldn’t have the power to control people like that.”

  Violet’s lips tightened. I watched her mind process my words, and she fiddled with her necklace absently. I reached out and pulled her hand away from the jewelry. I took it in my own and gave it a squeeze.

  “Why don’t we go enjoy the magic while we can, okay?” I offered sympathetically.

  I knew my words were realistic, but they were also harsh to someone with a soft heart like Violet. Where she saw romance and magic, I saw control and deception. But in a couple of hours, when Eros showed up, all of this would be over, and we could get back to normal. So for those few hours, I figured we could live in the magic with everyone else.

  We spent the next several hours preparing our bodies to look the most beautiful they had ever been. I had significantly less hair on my skin, along with a polish and glow I never thought was achievable with my paleness. My hair was styled in a fancy updo, scattered with white roses that would match my fight costume and yet still went with my first dress.

  Violet did my makeup, which she kept simple since our faces would be covered by our masks. She had a red lace one that matched the accents on her dress and was made out of the same material as her gloves. I just wore the same one Oliver provided with my costume, so I didn’t have to keep track of two of them throughout the evening.

  I got to dance in the first dress for at least an hour before I had to get changed into my costume. Luckily, the dress was as magnificent as I remembered. It slipped on like a glove and formed to my body all over again. I twirled in the mirror on the back of Violet’s door, giddy as a schoolgirl.

  “I never thought I would actually enjoy looking like a princess,” I giggled. I turned around to see Violet, who was scowling behind her mask. Just a minute ago, she had been cooing over her own outfit. But now her eyebrows were pinched, and her lips pursed.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly worried.

  “Nothing,” Violet grumbled. “Let’s just get out there.”

  My friend blew past me, out into the hallway. I had to take a minute to recover from the whiplash. Where had my giddy and excited friend who believed in magic gone? I wanted to ask her what crawled up her ass to make her so sour, but Violet was already out down the hall.

  “Violet,” I called out. “Wait up.”

  “Look,” she said when I caught up to her, “at least let me enter the party first because then I might have a chance at catching a guy before you walk in.”

  “What are you talking about?” I looked at her incredulously.

  “Come on, Shy, look at you!” Violet scoffed. She moved a hand up and down my body. “You’re a bombshell. I don’t have a chance in hell with you there, so I’m just asking you to give me a moment. But if you’re too good to give me even that, then just forget it.”

  “Whoa Vi, hang on now,” I said as I held out my hands as if I could buffer away this sudden aggression.

  But my friend didn’t give me a chance to ask another question. She sped away down the dorm stairs and out of sight. I took a second to breathe and rationalize the situation. Something must have happened between when we were in the dorm to right now because Violet was definitely not acting like herself. As much as I wanted to go down there and demand answers from her, I decided it would best to let her calm down and sort out her own feelings, whatever they were.

  So I straightened my shoulders and headed down to the main quad all by myself.

  Violet planned it so we would be fashionably late. The party was already in full swing when I came upon the twinkling lights. They were stretched across the trees, creating a spiderweb of lights above our heads. The DJ rocked out with massive speakers that filled the campus with music that had a heavy bass. He was stationed on the steps of the cafeteria so he would be elevated over the rest of the dance floor. Across from the DJ was a row of tables with an assortment of finger food and desserts. A chocolate fountain bubbled at one end while a tower of macaroons of every flavor and color sat front and center. A sundae bar took over one complete table all on its own.

  One of my favorite features of the whole dance was the little tableaus. The nymphs and I planned this element for maximum romance. These tableaus ranged from park bench scenes, to fancy cars, to restaurant booths with different backgrounds from famous cities. Paris. Venice. New York City. These little moments were scattered throughout the quad, squeezed between buildings or under trees. It was so couples could escape from the noise of the dance floor and get a moment alone.

  I could already see that some of them were being used as intended. Luckily the nymphs were monitoring the tableaus so that if a couple got a little too intimate for public display, they would shroud them in a moment of invisibility until they were done.

  It had been a clever plan, and I was glad that it was working. The moment I walked into the quad, a rush of accomplishment welled up in my chest. Despite all the stress, the lack of sleep, and the worry, the moment was here. The dance was upon us, and as far as I could tell, people were enjoying themselves. Love and desire were certainly in the air. Eros would have no choice but to attend this party.

  While I stood on the outs of the quads, taking everything in, someone surprised me by taking my hand and whirling me into his arms. I regained my balance and found myself pressed up against Darren’s chest.

  My friend wore a
white tux with black accents, like his collar and bow tie. It fit him perfectly and accented his muscles. He looked like he was an agent at Mi6, worthy of all the swooning. Also, to my surprise, he had opted for contacts, and it nearly unsettled me to see Darren without his thick-framed glasses.

  “Darren,” I said, not bothering to hide how impressed I was. “Looking sharp.”

  “And you look ravishing,” Darren said as he leaned his face closer to mine. His voice was low and husky, something I had never heard from him. It was so absurd that my only reaction was to giggle.

  “Ravishing, huh?” I chuckled. I moved to wiggle out of Darren’s grip but found that he only gripped me tighter. “Uh, Darren?”

  “Yes, Cheyenne?” he answered in that same sultry voice.

  “Let me go,” I said sharply, fear taking hold of my thoughts.

  “Why would I do that when you’re the most beautiful woman here tonight?” Darren whispered.

  Then to my horror, he leaned in for a kiss, and I threw my hands up in the way, so his lips found my palms rather than my own lips.

  “Darren!” I squealed as I pushed him away. My rejection surprised him enough to let me go, and I took a couple of steps away from him. Suddenly, someone else was by my side.

  “Cheyenne, you okay?” JJ asked as he looked from me to Darren. The redhead was dressed in a bright blue tux with a ruffle down his front, looking like he just popped out of the 80s.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said as I straightened the wrinkles in my dress. What the hell had gotten into my friends?

  “You have got to be better than fine,” JJ said, his own voice dropping an octave. “Looking as ravishing as you do.”

  My head snapped up to face JJ, who had a twinkle in his eye. I stepped out of range for any potential kisses, officially frightened.

  Before I knew it, another guy had come up to me. It was Rick in an all-black tux that cut off at his ankles, wearing no socks with his dress shoes. Rick took his hand in mine and moved it up to his lips.