[break]you're born to a prostitute. [break][break]

mom didn't know what to do with you, and couldn't afford an abortion. she tried, though. she tried to kill you off while you were still in the womb. it's a miracle that you're still alive, and kicking, without any major disabilities or deformities to write home about. she looks at you with hatred, at first. she hasn't been able to work (because no on will sleep with a pregnant woman) for about nine months, so she was kicked out of her old apartment. go figure. [break][break]

you're born on the fourth of april, mom hates you for it. maybe its a sign.[break][break]

you're a baby and she doesn't really take care of you. at first, she tries to leave you out in the cold, to cry and whine. then someone finds you, and brings you back to her, because you take so much from her. bright amber eyes with jet black hair is apparently enough to identify the two of you. she'd laugh at how forgetful she's been lately, take you back, and scorn. she'd only feed you because you wouldn't stop crying otherwise. [break][break]

so when you start to get older, your mother hates how you've become beautiful - moreso than herself. you stole her youth, after all. how dare you? [break][break]

so it's only natural that you give her youth back to her. when your mother comes back with another man, or another pretty bag or new red lipstick on her lips, she doesn't give you a glance. you don't understand why she went out of her way to drop food on the table the few times she came back to the small apartment. maybe it was to keep you quiet. she stopped yelling when you were quiet. [break][break]

at nine, you decide to go outside for the first time. you never went to school, and you've never met your neighbours, so you're curious. mom was always out during the day, anyways, so she wouldn't know if you went out for a few minutes. you meet a pretty lady downstairs, who seems surprised. it'd your first time talking to someone outside of the room, and you're scared. but she's kind, and lets you take a shower in her home. she said you're thin. were you? [break][break]

then you clean up, and she says you're very pretty. were you? mom didn't think so, so you're unsure. but there's a glimmer in your eyes as you sneak out each day to visit her. it turns out that the building your mom keeps you in is a fairly nice apartment. she ays your mother must really love you. you don't completely understand what she means. [break][break]

you go outside, one day, with new clothes you got as a gift. it's another fun day, you've been coming out more often. then you're scouted by someone, who says you could become an idol. you don't know what those are, but you're shown soon after. they're sparkling people who sing and dance on the big dazzling screen. it's so different from the dark rooms. you want it. [break][break]

mom finds out about the card, but she doesn't yell at you for going out. instead, you see a glint in her eyes as she holds you by the shoulders, telling you to pursue this. she wants you to be an idol, and suddenly she wants the best for you. you're too young to realize that she wanted this for herself; because you resembled her so much. your fame will become her fame - your beauty will become her beauty. she will become you, and live through you, vicariously. [break][break]

idol training is harder than you thought it would be. you're put under a contract and you have to train. they make you go through dance training, vocal training, for years without rest. you have to work your hardest before you go onto the stage. mom says you have to be beautiful, or else they'll throw you out. you've lost count of how many meals you've skipped, for the sake of putting a measuring tape around your waist. this wasn't healthy, and you couldn't sleep, but you had to work harder. work harder. work harder. [break][break]

it's a long ten years before you're finally beautiful enough for them, and finally skilled enough to stand on a stage. after ten years they think you're talented enough, but now you feel empty, and manufactured. your passion is dying, but you continue, because that's what the company wants. that's what mother wants. what they want is what you want. [break][break]

you meet someone at twenty-one, and you fall in love, don't you? you bumped into him at a coffee shop on your way to rehearsal, and you enjoy his company. his presence makes things more bearable, and you can breathe. you liked this feeling. you cling to this feeling, and you never let go. [break][break]

he teaches you a lot; a lot about yourself, the world around you, teaches you about the joys of having your own will, and shows you just how many people you've inspired with your work, hollow and manufactured as it was. you don't take pride in it, so he helps you create something for you to take pride in. you fell in love with music because of him. you fell in love with him because of music. [break][break]

but the relationship is a secret, because you're forbidden from getting into one. when your contract is over at twenty-three, you immediately plan to move out with him, separating yourself from a mother who tries so hard to keep her clutches on you. you even go so far as to move away to kalos, where the two of you settle down. then you pick up work as a model, where the beauty industry was just as strict and tiresome, but it's nothing you're not used to. [break][break]

you're pregnant nearing twenty-five, and you're overjoyed. he's close to proposing to you, and he did. you two are engaged, and you still have the engagement ring from back then. you still have the locket you two got on your first official date. you still remember the candle scent that he used to love, and you grew to love it too. sadly, you two can never stand under the alter together. [break][break]

it's christmas, it's snowing in the streets of kalos. he's on the way home from work, then you get a call. you nearly drop the phone as your tears overflow, and your vision is getting blurry. [break][break]

they say it's a drunk driver, who indulged too much on the night before the holiday. you're at the hospital when the doctors come out and shake their heads, informing you of his passing. you can't accept it and rush in, to see the cloth over his face. you don't think you've ever cried so much in your life. [break][break]

later the next year, in the summer, you give birth to twins. the son resembles you, with dark hair and his father's blue eyes. the daughter is the same. so you name them huxley and adele, two names that the two of you decided on. you hold your ring to the children, and you ask him if he sees them. you coo over how beautiful they are, and you hold them tight. then you cry again. [break][break]

being a single mother is tough, but you try not to do the same as yours. you take the children to a daycare when you're too busy with modelling, and you try to spend as much time with them as you can. you're a busy woman and you build an empire of your own, built from the ashes of work you grew to hate doing. you only want the best for your children, you want only the best. [break][break]

you've forgotten how to do the best for yourself in the midst of it all.

[break]
𝓢 her headcanon voice is Unnamed/U. there's a distinct change in pitch when she speaks in her kantonian dialect, however.
[break]𝓢 she's very wealthy due to modelling and her own make-up brand, to where she's found a home in slateport and mauville. she owns a villa in the latter, and a higher class condo in the former.
[break]𝓢 stands at 5'10", so fairly tall. though very thin, she's a lot healthier than what she was before. still, she keeps a very keen eye on her image due to her work being so dependant on her appearance.
[break]𝓢 she has a distinct taste for traditional and oriental clothing and fashion, with her signature colours being a bright orange, deep red, and a jet black with golden embroidery.
[break]𝓢 goes on regular flings, mainly to kill time and because she knows she has the face. it's also to fill the hole in her heart, temporarily, but she doesn't talk about it.
[break]𝓢 very sentimental and has kept a locket with a picture of herself and her previous partner. no, she isn't over his death.
[break]𝓢 collects candles and aromatherapy makes her happy. she adores candle lit dinners. her aesthetic is definitely filled with candle holder and a dimly lit room with the lingering scent of roses. truly, the way to her heart.
[break]𝓢 adores stage play and dances, objects of her obsession being swanna lake, phantump of the opera, and macbeth. absolutely adores her good drama like hamlet and an absolute tool for broadway plays.
[break]𝓢 also adores romantic tragedies, ironically enough. also loves the trope of forbidden love.
[break]𝓢 she has two children, a son and a daughter. the son's name is huxley, and the daughter's name adele