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Hey Kitty Girl!

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It was morning. This was odd enough, considering Trixie was never known to be a morning type of gal, and yet she was awake, bright, and early on a Sunday morning. Sunday!  She never woke up early, especially on a Sunday, so excuse her when she immediately thought something was wrong. Something felt  off . Something felt  different , and Trixie didn’t like different. 

 

And so, when she finally mustered the courage to sit up and peel the silky pink sleep mask from her eyes, she was shocked to find that nothing appeared any different than it had when she had gone to sleep the night before. No fires raging outside, no rapture, and not a single thing out of place. It was sunny, even, the warm buttery light shining through her windows and- there! The sun. She never opened her curtains any time before 2 in the afternoon, especially on a Sunday. It was wrong, it just was!

 

‘You’re probably overreacting, girl. nothing is wrong, you’re just irrational and dumb!’ The familiar voice snapped in the back of her head, and she jolted from her stupor, realizing she had been slowly leaning back into the comfort of her pillow. Carefully, she forced herself to kick her legs off of the bed and stumble over to her vanity. Examining her reflection in the mirror, she was once again surprised to find that nothing was wrong. No shock of zits on her crooked nose, reminiscing how she appeared in middle school, or even a bit of discoloration. It was, once again, surprising.

 

If it wasn’t already obvious, Trixie didn’t like change. hated it, in fact! But that was fine, that was normal. Not liking change was normal! The breaking out into cold sweats, cold-like symptoms, and hives... less normal, but not the point!

 

Trixie’s hands found her phone exactly where she left it, next to a cute heart-shaped jewelry dish Aja had gotten her for her first birthday with the group. Perfect. Things were perfect! and yet, as Trixie pulled small bottles of serums and cold cremes from her organized drawers, lining them up by shape and size, her eyes kept flitting over to the curtains. The sun was nice, but it was  wrongwrongwrong -

 

The voice cut her thoughts off once again, shouting at her to calm down, stop overreacting, and get it together bitch! She stood, and with a thunderous disposition, slammed the curtains shut with a clink. And everything was fine again. The world had righted itself. She was fine, she was safe, and everything was okay.

 

Her heart had stopped thumping, and she let herself sit back down in her heart-shaped chair, turning to examine her reflection in the mirror.

 

Her appearance was wholly unchanged. hair flat from sleep, still tousled and quite voluminous, a bright shade of warm barbie blonde. Eyes, honey brown, just a bit tired looking. Nothing contacts and some eyedrops couldn’t fix. Her skin was a lovely warm tone, very carefully curated by her manager. She was the face of the group, after all! She couldn’t leave the house ‘lookin’ like a fool,’ as Shangela would put it. Whatever. Trixie had makeup to do!

 

Primer, foundation, concealer, eyeliner and eyeshadow, and eyebrows, oh my! With each layer, she felt herself slipping more and more into herself. well, okay, not herself. She was Trixie. but she was also Trixie. They were different! Trixie was lame and her skin got too pale in the winter, eyebags too dark to be charming and leg hair too thick and icky to handle. But Trixie? Was perfect. hair just as big as her personality, and certainly bigger than her IQ. Trixie was ‘bimbo kitty’, the best vocalist in the rookie girl group ‘kitty girls.’ They were small now, yeah, but they were gonna make it big! It was so close she could feel it. she just had to put the work in, never stop, and keep going until she had what she wanted and refused to let it go. That was all, easy enough, right? 

 

With the final swipe of a soft brush on her eye, she was ready. Her skin was perfectly pore-less and porcelain, thick eyeliner surrounded by hot pink shadow, contour turning her crooked nose pin-straight, and her trademark pink lip making her look the part of a silly little bimbo. Just the way she liked it. The way she needed to be. 

 

Her hair was piled into a high ponytail, curls loose and perfect, pinned with a cute pink hair clip. Pink, pink, pink. It was her favorite color if it wasn’t glaringly obvious. And oh, trust her, it was!

 

Trixie already had an outfit picked out. if she didn’t, she tended to stress and cry and it more often than not ended in an embarrassing, childish meltdown. she just got....overwhelmed easily. very easily. 

 

The outfit in question was simple enough, in her own eyes. A white miniskirt that showed off the long, strong legs Trixie was so proud of. A pink and white gingham patterned blouse with frills on the sleeves and neckline. With a pair of clear Pleaser heels and a few classy pieces of white jewelry, Trixie felt officially ready to start the day. 

 

.....What exactly did she have planned for today?!

 

The very thought almost sent her spiraling. She was so fucking stupid! Why hadn’t she checked? Now, what if she had to do her makeup again, or change, she didn’t have another outfit, and the anxiety was already creeping its way up her spine-

 

And a knock at the door startled her out of her own worry. She shot up, looking back into the floor-length mirror, making sure she was presentable, before calling out in a high voice. “Come in!”

 

“Halleloo, Trixie dear! Please don’t be naked!” The door opened, and to her relief, it wasn’t her manager. It was just Shangela. Unlike Trixie, who was dressed down to the nines, still somehow managing to look chic with her highlighted hair tugged over one shoulder and ratty pajamas. “Damn, girl, where in the hell are you goin’? It’s Sunday! didn’t I tell you we’re meeting the new girl today?” God damnit, motherfucker, son of a bitch ass face shit- 

 

“Duh! I didn’t forget! I wanna look presentable, unlike you, bitch.” She said, tone playful, and Shangela gasp-laughed. “Damn bitch, okay, okay! chill! well.... she’s gonna get here in a few if ya’ wanna come down, hun?” Trixie took a second and nodded. “Just...give me a sec, yeah?” Trixie said, tone a bit softer, and Shangela opened her mouth to speak again before Trixie just shook her head. Shangela just nodded, a sad look in her eyes that Trixie couldn’t quite decipher. “Just holler if you need anything, mhm?” Trixie nodded, and Shangela left, closing the door softly behind her. 

 

Trixie immediately flurried about, turning and taking a seat on her bed, hand gripping her barbie patterned bedspread as she gasped. A sick feeling filled her stomach, and it was all she could do to not throw up right there on her floor. Anxiety punched through her stomach. She had forgotten. Someone new in their house, touching their stuff, taking time in the bathroom. Trixie had already memorized everyone's schedules, what time they usually used the showers and the bathrooms, and laundry and cooking, and- and she would have to relearn it all! Everyone would have to change their schedules for the new girl, which wasn’t fair! 

 

“You’re acting like a spoiled bitch. chill.” Trixie mumbled to herself and took a deep, shaky breath. Pushing herself to her feet, she choked her breath back into something calmer, and pushed the door open, standing in the hallway. Trixie looked around the house as she made her way down to the living room. It was an old habit. her room's hallway, with a bathroom next to it, along with another room that Aja and Thorgy shared. A massive storage room at the end of the hall, and Trixie was walking down the stairs with her hand carefully gripping the stair rail, remembering the last time she had fallen in Pleasers. It wasn’t pleasant. downstairs revealed a massive living room, attached to a dining room and, through a doorway, a large white kitchen that only Thorgy and Trixie seemed to use. 

 

Thorgy, her bestie. You see, everyone in the group had a thing. Just a thing! It was a funny story, actually. They all started as solo acts. one night, they performed at an open variety show thing at a bar downtown. A bunch of press people was there that night. they called Thorgy “Cardio” because her act was a parody of a 90s porny workout video. Camp, right? Aja was “Banjee”, just because of her whole look. She liked to embody it, though. as long as it didn’t bother her, everyone else was cool with it. Shangela was “Sparkle”, for the sheer amount of glitter she threw at the audience that night. And Trixie...

 

She had poured her heart out on that stage. She had performed an original song. Soulful, kinda country folk vibes, y’know? And what did they call her? Wanna guess? 

 

Bimbo.

 

She was bimbo, because she was pink, blonde, and had big tits. And the girls met up after that, decided to write a song together, and the rest was history. 

 

Until now, when shangela decided the group needed a new girl because it felt ‘unbalanced’ or some shit, without telling her. But Trixie didn’t have the heart or energy to be mad at shangela right now. She was stretched thin enough to snap. 

 

“Trixie girl! in here!” Thorgy, hair piled on her head in a frizzy updo, called from the living room. Trixie bustled over and sat next to her, immediately leaning into her. “Rough morning?” She said, tone soft, and Trixie nodded. 

 

But before the conversation could even really start, there was a knock on the door and suddenly Shangela barreled into the room, sliding across the room in her excitement. “That’s her! oh god, everyone, places! pla- oh. Right. Nevermind!” Shangela really couldn’t leave leader mode, could she? Trixie shook her head with a fond smile, overtaking the nervousness when Thorgy grabbed her hand comfortingly, thumb rubbing circles over the back of her hand.

 

And then the door was opening, and Trixie was ready to be replaced, all of her anxieties bubbling up, ready to see some 4’9 brunette girl waltz through the door and expect everyone to kiss the floor she walked on. But that wasn’t it. 

 

Replacing the girl in her nightmares was probably the girl of her dreams. Tall and pale, thin and yet rippling with muscles. Blonde hair cut short with choppy bangs, eyes narrowed into slits, and lips an intimidating shade of red. Black fabric swathed her form, hiding her body, but Trixie was already red under the thick layer of foundation on her face. 

 

“Hello! you are Shangela, yes?” And she opened her mouth, and, somehow, it got better. Her voice was husky like the stranger had just finished smoking a cigarette, accent parts Boston, part Russian, and part something else. Shangela smiled, looking the girl up and down and backing up. “That’s me! You already know me, so c’mon in. you already know Aja, she’s...somewhere. this is Thorgy, and that’s-” 

 

But the perfect blonde woman was already staring at Trixie. Shangela stopped short, confusion masking her face, and Jesus Lord, the blonde woman was staring. Eyes practically melting holes into Trixie's cheeks. or maybe that was just her blushing? Who knew? Trixie felt like she wasn’t just being looked at, she was being seen. Like the stranger had just stripped down every layer of fake giggles and smiles Trixie had ever worn and seen everything that she truly was.

 

It almost took Trixie's breath away. They were locked in a staring contest, honey brown against a startling bright blue, and Trixie felt her entire body seize up as the woman spoke once again, a rich voice saying the last thing she had expected her to.

 

“Beatrice.”