Reality 00 - Installment 2
The crackfic rampage continues...
"Two beautiful lad-... peop-... sou-... lights stand here before me," Tyra began solemnly as she faced the last of the contestants teetering on the precipice of elimination -- one tearful, one stoic. "Both for very different reasons. And yet, for the exact same one."
"Tieria," she began, turning to the taller of the two, "you've been consistent this whole competition. Your photos show us such vulnerability, such depth of emotion. But here in front of the judges, you close yourself off." She snapped the air with a beak-shaped hand. Then she did it a half-dozen more times for emphasis. "We all wonder who Tieria really is. What Tieria really is. A top model should be an open book. A thin one with lots of really fierce pictures and not a lot of words. No one's going to hire a question mark. Punctuation doesn't wear high end fashion, does it?"
Tieria's long piss-blond weave swayed as she/he/they shook her/his/their head.
"And you, Nena," the erstwhile supermodel, TV personality, talk show host, actress, and singer (according to Wikipedia) continued, focusing on the girl now shaking with sobs. "You're the opposite. Your photos are weak week after week. But you're so full of life and personality. You've got the fierceness and the fire that top models need to survive in this business. But that fire is supposed to stay on the inside, Nena. It should never be used to kill or maim your fellow models."
"I... I didn't mean to leave the gas on," the girl choked out, her black bob brushing her cheeks, soaking up the tears that flowed freely like a cold rain from the darkest cloud to ever grace the skies. "Or to pipe it out into the smoking area. My hand totally slipped!"
"So who's going to stay. The girl who really wants this? Or the one who's actually good at this?" Tyra flipped over the photo, revealing a smiling figure dressed as a really fierce fishstick. "Nena. You're safe for another week."
Tieria silently began to unbuckle her/his/their heels. Nena squealed, tears evaporated, and flung herself into Tyra's arms. Grinning, she whispered into the older woman's ear, a cruel hiss. "And so are you, Tyra. Because the moment you kick me off this idiotic show, I'm cutting out your heart. And eating it."
Tyra returned the hug with a brilliant smile of her own. But inside, she trembled.
"Two beautiful lad-... peop-... sou-... lights stand here before me," Tyra began solemnly as she faced the last of the contestants teetering on the precipice of elimination -- one tearful, one stoic. "Both for very different reasons. And yet, for the exact same one."
"Tieria," she began, turning to the taller of the two, "you've been consistent this whole competition. Your photos show us such vulnerability, such depth of emotion. But here in front of the judges, you close yourself off." She snapped the air with a beak-shaped hand. Then she did it a half-dozen more times for emphasis. "We all wonder who Tieria really is. What Tieria really is. A top model should be an open book. A thin one with lots of really fierce pictures and not a lot of words. No one's going to hire a question mark. Punctuation doesn't wear high end fashion, does it?"
Tieria's long piss-blond weave swayed as she/he/they shook her/his/their head.
"And you, Nena," the erstwhile supermodel, TV personality, talk show host, actress, and singer (according to Wikipedia) continued, focusing on the girl now shaking with sobs. "You're the opposite. Your photos are weak week after week. But you're so full of life and personality. You've got the fierceness and the fire that top models need to survive in this business. But that fire is supposed to stay on the inside, Nena. It should never be used to kill or maim your fellow models."
"I... I didn't mean to leave the gas on," the girl choked out, her black bob brushing her cheeks, soaking up the tears that flowed freely like a cold rain from the darkest cloud to ever grace the skies. "Or to pipe it out into the smoking area. My hand totally slipped!"
"So who's going to stay. The girl who really wants this? Or the one who's actually good at this?" Tyra flipped over the photo, revealing a smiling figure dressed as a really fierce fishstick. "Nena. You're safe for another week."
Tieria silently began to unbuckle her/his/their heels. Nena squealed, tears evaporated, and flung herself into Tyra's arms. Grinning, she whispered into the older woman's ear, a cruel hiss. "And so are you, Tyra. Because the moment you kick me off this idiotic show, I'm cutting out your heart. And eating it."
Tyra returned the hug with a brilliant smile of her own. But inside, she trembled.