oneshot, let's play pretend
They probably grew up too early, probably sacrificed (are sacrificing) more than they should be.
It didn’t seem like such a sacrifice at age eleven.
Tiffany knew as much as the rest of the girls that they were like horses with blinders on and the only thing they could see was their dream at the finish line. Just to work a little harder, sleep a little less, forget about anything that wasn’t dancing or singing a little more and it would all pay off.
She remembered herself then. Remembered walking in that room for months feeling like it would be the day to debut and walking home on blistered feet, trying desperately not to cry again that night.
But the debut eventually came and she remembered feeling like there was never going to be a happier moment. (She was wrong about that, as she was about many things.)
This is it. This is where the dream ends and becomes reality.
It hadn’t been easy.
There were more troubles than some thought were worth, but she felt differently, despite being stuck in a group with eight girls.
She was angry at first, then frustrated which all too quickly morphed into attachment, something she wasn’t expecting at all.
She knew them pretty well beforehand. They had spent hours upon hours together but behind the friendly smiles and words of encouragement there was always a line that marked them competition.
So it was jarring when one day that line had to be erased and she had to look at them with new eyes, look at them as teammate.
It was tougher for her to do than for the others. For the longest time, while the other girls bonded and fitted together to form one, not eight, Tiffany acknowledged it with suspicious glances.
The company expected instant friendship and Tiffany forced herself to oblige because it shouldn’t have mattered how she debuted, or with whom. There was only thing in the world that she wanted more but it was something she was never going to get back so singing was what was left to make her happy.
But somewhere during Tiffany’s vehement refusal to get closer to the girls, she had let down her walls unbeknownst to herself and they raided her heart before she could let out so much as a squeak of protest. Her heart became like land in a war and they all claimed a piece of it for their own while she struggled with keeping sight of her dream and losing to eight pairs of hands who gave as much as they took.
It was a foolish perception that she had, thinking that if she became a part of them, she would somehow lose a part of herself in the process. And she might have (they own more of her heart than she does now) but instead of dragging her down or making her weaker, it did the opposite.
When she had the time (these days that time seemed like it was dwindling from hours in a day into seconds of a minute) she popped into a random studio and watched the trainees work like she had (technically still does) all those years ago.
She wanted nothing more than to pull all of them into a hug and promise them success, but knew only a handful was going to make it. One of those kids was another Tiffany, another kid ready to beg, ready sign their soul away (if she remembered correctly, she did so with a smile) to a paper that read their was dream fulfilled in legal terms.
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
Tiffany tore her eyes away from a trainee getting scolded by the dance instructor and moved her bag so that Jessica could sit down next to her.
“Just hanging out. What about you?”
“I stopped by to see Krystal. My mom’s been beating me through the phone about visiting her more often.”
“Is it weird, seeing her here?”
“A little. She keeps asking me for advice and I have no clue what to say.”
Tiffany wondered what she would have wanted to been told when she was training.
“Tell her not to rush. Tell her to enjoy her childhood because she’ll never get it back once it’s gone.”
Jessica laughed just to fill the silence afterward. Her smile was sad and Tiffany wasn't sure why it was getting so much harder to cry than it was to smile.
“Do you think she would listen?” Jessica asked, resting her head on Tiffany’s shoulder.
“Would you have?”
Jessica waited before responding though they both knew the answer. Regret was a nasty thing and the truth was even nastier.
“No.”
“Yea. Me neither. But,” Tiffany leaned her cheek on Jessica’s head, “if you could go back and do it differently, would you?”
“Does it matter? We can’t.”
It did matter, if only just a tiny bit, because stripped of their sponsored clothing, the big name company, the microphones and they were just like the kids before them. And maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much, maybe all those sacrifices would have truly been worth it if given another chance, she would have taken it slower.
“I guess.”
“Would you?”
“Like you said, we can’t.”
Tiffany couldn’t bear to think of another life because what if-
*
It would be nice to start over again
Before we were men
I'd give, I'd bend
Let's play pretend
And when it's the end
Our lives will make sense
we'll love, we'll bend
Let's play pretend
-Lights, Pretend
**
A/N: I love this song so much and I want to share it.
It didn’t seem like such a sacrifice at age eleven.
Tiffany knew as much as the rest of the girls that they were like horses with blinders on and the only thing they could see was their dream at the finish line. Just to work a little harder, sleep a little less, forget about anything that wasn’t dancing or singing a little more and it would all pay off.
She remembered herself then. Remembered walking in that room for months feeling like it would be the day to debut and walking home on blistered feet, trying desperately not to cry again that night.
But the debut eventually came and she remembered feeling like there was never going to be a happier moment. (She was wrong about that, as she was about many things.)
This is it. This is where the dream ends and becomes reality.
It hadn’t been easy.
There were more troubles than some thought were worth, but she felt differently, despite being stuck in a group with eight girls.
She was angry at first, then frustrated which all too quickly morphed into attachment, something she wasn’t expecting at all.
She knew them pretty well beforehand. They had spent hours upon hours together but behind the friendly smiles and words of encouragement there was always a line that marked them competition.
So it was jarring when one day that line had to be erased and she had to look at them with new eyes, look at them as teammate.
It was tougher for her to do than for the others. For the longest time, while the other girls bonded and fitted together to form one, not eight, Tiffany acknowledged it with suspicious glances.
The company expected instant friendship and Tiffany forced herself to oblige because it shouldn’t have mattered how she debuted, or with whom. There was only thing in the world that she wanted more but it was something she was never going to get back so singing was what was left to make her happy.
But somewhere during Tiffany’s vehement refusal to get closer to the girls, she had let down her walls unbeknownst to herself and they raided her heart before she could let out so much as a squeak of protest. Her heart became like land in a war and they all claimed a piece of it for their own while she struggled with keeping sight of her dream and losing to eight pairs of hands who gave as much as they took.
It was a foolish perception that she had, thinking that if she became a part of them, she would somehow lose a part of herself in the process. And she might have (they own more of her heart than she does now) but instead of dragging her down or making her weaker, it did the opposite.
When she had the time (these days that time seemed like it was dwindling from hours in a day into seconds of a minute) she popped into a random studio and watched the trainees work like she had (technically still does) all those years ago.
She wanted nothing more than to pull all of them into a hug and promise them success, but knew only a handful was going to make it. One of those kids was another Tiffany, another kid ready to beg, ready sign their soul away (if she remembered correctly, she did so with a smile) to a paper that read their was dream fulfilled in legal terms.
“Hey, what are you doing here?”
Tiffany tore her eyes away from a trainee getting scolded by the dance instructor and moved her bag so that Jessica could sit down next to her.
“Just hanging out. What about you?”
“I stopped by to see Krystal. My mom’s been beating me through the phone about visiting her more often.”
“Is it weird, seeing her here?”
“A little. She keeps asking me for advice and I have no clue what to say.”
Tiffany wondered what she would have wanted to been told when she was training.
“Tell her not to rush. Tell her to enjoy her childhood because she’ll never get it back once it’s gone.”
Jessica laughed just to fill the silence afterward. Her smile was sad and Tiffany wasn't sure why it was getting so much harder to cry than it was to smile.
“Do you think she would listen?” Jessica asked, resting her head on Tiffany’s shoulder.
“Would you have?”
Jessica waited before responding though they both knew the answer. Regret was a nasty thing and the truth was even nastier.
“No.”
“Yea. Me neither. But,” Tiffany leaned her cheek on Jessica’s head, “if you could go back and do it differently, would you?”
“Does it matter? We can’t.”
It did matter, if only just a tiny bit, because stripped of their sponsored clothing, the big name company, the microphones and they were just like the kids before them. And maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much, maybe all those sacrifices would have truly been worth it if given another chance, she would have taken it slower.
“I guess.”
“Would you?”
“Like you said, we can’t.”
Tiffany couldn’t bear to think of another life because what if-
*
It would be nice to start over again
Before we were men
I'd give, I'd bend
Let's play pretend
And when it's the end
Our lives will make sense
we'll love, we'll bend
Let's play pretend
-Lights, Pretend
**
A/N: I love this song so much and I want to share it.