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Easy to be Hard

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“People say misery loves company, but I think it’s like that with anger too.” Starr Carter, The Hate U Give

“Calling somebody else fat won’t make you any skinnier, calling someone stupid doesn’t make you any smarter, and ruining Regina George’s life definitely didn’t make me any happier, all you can do in life is try to solve the problem in front of you." Cady Heron, Mean Girls

"By causing harm to others, the perpetrators may be thwarting their own basic psychological needs to feel in control and to feel connected to others." Hurting Someone Else Can Hurt You Just As Much, Association for Psychological Science

 

Great, her eyebrows came out wrong.

Ceci frowned at the mirror; nothing seems to go right with her home makeover. Her brown roots were showing through her blonde locks, the thick eyebrows looked like Faye Dunaway in Mommie Dearest, her friends reassured her nose looked perfect and she looked like Cameron Diaz… “If Cameron Diaz’s nose was two inches longer with non-existent lips” and she loved her cheeks, neither chubby nor scrawny but the frosted makeup wasn’t doing her any favors and her forehead looked more like a Six head.

She looked down at her body in the mirror and frowned.

“Lucky,” said her friend Tahani who was very slim but had a soft, poochy lower tummy with a very hippy hourglass shape that she fought hard to slim down so she’d fit into a perfect Size 6. Ceci would just frown as she felt her own body and its lack of curves or softness.

“A miracle,” said her friend Karen who was short but toned because she was a manic exerciser and seemed to spend 2 hours running for every time she ate something hearty and kept her head shaved and wore wigs so white people wouldn’t touch her hair. Ceci asked her for workout tips but was dismissed: she was skinny and perfect already, just needed larger breasts and a smaller nose.

“My friend in tragedy,” said her friend and roommate Mei who swapped 32AA bras and Wonderbra’s with her but was able to find clothes that fit the rest of her figure perfectly and everything from stores seemed to look right on her. More boys paid attention to Mei more than Ceci; even professors were willing to listen to Mei in class and looked skeptical when Ceci had her hand raised for a discussion.

“Flaca,” teased her family back in California. They pointed at her chest, scrawny limbs, the mid-section that didn’t stick out at all; the lack of hips and buttocks, even her feet looked skeletal. But they loudly insisted she didn’t need a boob job and her parents bore a grudge when she dyed her hair after graduating from junior high school.

Worst of all….

“She looks so fit,” her boyfriend Diego said while looking at an old poster of Pamela Anderson for Barb Wire, where her cleavage was pushed out to its advantage without wagging the old Catholic ladies too much. He would turn to her and say, “Why don’t you look like that?” Anytime there was another girl, no, a woman more developed or beautiful or curvaceous, he would talk to her and it’d be so flirtatious where he’d try to make her giggle or feel like he’d ask them out, why not?

“Are you available anytime, darling?” he winked. “It’s a shame I got my own ball and chain.” She would scream at him afterwards and feel like shit because maybe he was right about her being crazy and she needs to trust him.

Well nothing to do, she just needed to put on her uniform (a bowler style shirt in black and turquoise with black pants and shoes). She tied the shirt at her hips and found it improved, and found the skinny fit she was allowed to pick for her trousers to be edgy. She then went on her way to the theater.

As she punched in, her very plump coworker Marissa came scurrying in.

“Ceci! I have some dreadful news!” Marissa hyperventilated “Look what Diego is doing right now with a customer!”

Ceci took a peek and saw Diego, so handsome in his uniform with his wavy dark locks crowning his head, slim and toned form, his high cheekbones and rugged Spanish looks flirting with a blonde woman in her thirties. Staring at her blue eyes, he was (as her bespectacled coworker Maggie would remark).

She was very pretty, with shoulder length blonde hair brushing her shoulders, a rounded pinkish pale peach face, a delightful smile framed by full pink lips (“full lips would make you look fish-like” he told Ceci once), her eyes squinted with delight (she didn’t make herself look foolish with a double set of fake lashes like Ceci did last Valentine’s Day), and she had a silver necklace with an abstract heart over her soft clavicle pointing at her full breasts (“Ever thought of getting a breast developer?”). She also seemed very enthusiastic about flirting with him, what if he was going to chuck Ceci for her?

“What am I going to do?” she cried “I cannot face him.” Maggie gave a smirk, keep watching her movements; maybe you can figure out something to throw back at her if she comes for a drink of soda. Find her weaknesses.”

Ceci observed the woman walking away from the counter: she was wearing a pink cardigan sweater with a ruffle at the cuffs and a white pink-and-black-and-baby blue miniskirt that hugged a medium-height hourglass figure and revealed shapely legs. She was as curvaceous as those pinup models from the old days, the kind of curves she wished she had. Then the woman stopped in front of the mirror, clearly giving her figure a scrutinizing eye that Ceci was all too knowledgeable of.

Bingo.

Close to an hour came by and the blonde woman came walking back to concessions and waited in line. Marissa turned and gave Ceci, who was sweeping up some loose popcorn, a smirk on her wide, white freckled face.

“Cecilia,” she casually replied “I will need you to cover the register while I take my break in the loo.” There was no argument to be had from the implications of her tone. Maggie, who was heating pasties, looked interested.

Ceci served every person in line until she got to the blonde woman: “Hello, I would like a regular sized Diet Coke and popcorn with butter.” Ceci could see her eyes were very beautiful with a vivid blue color that she saw a lot on trips to San Luis Obispo county’s beaches as a kid and while the lashes weren’t particularly dark or long, they fringed her eyes enough to enhance her natural good looks and her skin looked very soft and smooth for a smoker (spotting a carton of cigarettes in her purse). She looked very womanly, curvaceous, soft, and voluptuous.

"Mmm butter. Lucky you. I can't wait till I get to your age so I don't need to bother anymore."

The blonde woman looked stunned and quite hurt, but she appeared very poised and left with a “Humph” and walked away.

“Women can be jealous, right mate?” she heard Charlie say to Diego as they walked in.

Shit. She felt like shit. Not only was she ugly, jealous, flat-chested, scrawny, tacky, inexperienced, but she was a horrible cruel person. Worst she was a pawn.

“Feels great to have women, even a MILF like that, fawn over me.”

The lobby heard the loud wailings of a young college-aged woman that night. What happened to Ceci afterwards, was totally of her own volition.