the imperfection of it all

iii.            

She lurks within the shadows, mistakenly not wanting to be seen.  Through her shadowed eyes, she catches signs and glimpses but nothing more. She doesn’t see anything in its full magnificence. The only thing that she does see fully is the beast (maybe because the beast has already claimed her heart for himself.) The beast sends white wisps of stressed clouds in the air, staining the sunset with filth and poison.

A student passes by him, blinded by everything he is oblivious to. Blinded by sight, he accidentally shoves the beast lightly. (But everyone knows you never shove a beast.)

Jack turns the student around, his eyes seeking vengeance and possibly fear.  But the student is blinded by everything he is oblivious to. Blinded by arrogance, he snaps back at the beast, “What?” His eyes travel to the beast’s menacing clutch, oblivious to the blinding rage that the beast conceals.

To this, the beast gives him a punishment – a finger, a string of curse words and a bleeding nose.

She catches everything; signs and glimpses, but nothing more. She stands in the shadows, camouflaged before mixing herself with the black smog and angry demons. She mixes herself quickly, attaining stealth, but not quickly enough. Jack, through blurred eyes, catches wisps of blonde blowing in the breeze between his fingertips.

viii.          

In all the hideous, the ugliness and the imperfection they bathe in; Rapunzel sees the beauty in it all. They are so imperfect; but perfect together. They are so ugly; but beautiful together. They are so perfectly cruel; but beautifully cruel together. Jack is a beast cowering underneath charms and looks but he decides to let his true colours flare. Elsa is the flawed beauty withering, weakening and crumbling away. The beast ravished luck like it was its lucky day. The flawed beauty lets herself wither away and crumble into ash particles. The innocent princess is trying so desperately to cling onto sanity (and her heart) but they have already long left her for the beauty and imperfections that consume the beast and his beauty. They have been taken away; ripped mercilessly from her.

(After all, Jack and Elsa wouldn’t be Jack and Elsa if they put everything back where it belonged.)

iv.            

Their scenes of public displays of affection passes by unnoticed by many but to Elsa and Rapunzel, they notice. He promises to protect her forever. How sweet if it is a fairy tale. It is nothing but a fairy tale. Fairy tales do not end, nor start like this. For Elsa and Rapunzel, it is déjà vu all over again; history repeating itself.

To the innocent princess, she cannot imagine why anyone would want to repeat everything – only in different circumstances and to different people. To the flawed beauty, she cannot begin to describe her growing hatred. Her hatred grows to the point the flawed beauty lets all her imperfections appear on the brimming surface (and everyone knows that no matter how flawed the beauty is, she never lets her imperfections see the light of day). Even if only for a glimpse, it is nothing like the flawed beauty.

The third time déjà vu decides to happen again, Rapunzel cannot even see what is happening before it happens. Some scream, some run, one notifies justice but amidst the chaos, Rapunzel stands in shock. Her limps are unable to move and her mind unable to believe what she sees. The flawed beauty has let her flaws rise and take control. She watches unblinking as her weapons clash with his. But he is easily overpowered and the beauty reigns in her new-found victory with excessive rampages because in that moment, when she lets all her defences slip between her fingertips, she unveils to the world what she has been hiding beneath a misleadingly beautiful façade.

The chaos causes the beast to rise from his slumber as he threatens to destroy the source of the disturbance. He stumbles past the innocent princess and shoves her out of the way, letting her fall to the ground and no prince charming to catch her. He runs to the flawed beauty (because Rapunzel knows that if he ever cared about anyone, it would be the flawed beauty) with open arms. He holds her, restrains her and ties her to invisible chains – in the true nature of beasts capturing unwilling lovers. He whispers in her ears, reassuring her that everything is going to be okay when it clearly is never going to be that way.

Elsa slowly relaxes her shoulders and drops her weapons to the ground, leaning into the beast’s embrace. (She doesn’t want the beast, doesn’t love the beast, and will never need the beast but for now, all she needs is somewhere to lean on so she can wear her mask of perfection again and hide all her flaws deep down inside.)

The princess notes that the evil gleam in her eyes, no matter how hard Jack tries, is still alive.

ix.            

The princess moves with an elegance fit for a princess. She passes history and a layer of heart-felt memories attached with nostalgia as she glides past the confines of a place she calls home – would call home. She sees everything through red eyelids which are slowly turning white. She glimpses everything but cannot digest anything. She cannot digest everything. She is a princess; other people digest it for her before she does.

She leaves with every piece of herself. She takes the history, the heart-felt memories and all the nostalgia with her so that no one can take it and rip it mercilessly away from her. She also takes all the unwanted and locks it in a casket that will never be opened. She takes extra precautions to make sure that it remains unopened forever. (It manages to open, anyway.)

v.              

She can see it happening and for a moment, she can believe it too. The beast and the flawed beauty are draining someone and separating their soul. Their eyes are full of burning evil and smouldering vengeance. They are merciless and cruel; but she is a princess who has been trained all her life to see the beauty in everything, including them. They are imperfect with so many flaws hidden just beneath the surface, but together, standing tall, they are one and united; they are perfect.

The princess wakes up before she sees anything more. To them, she misses the best part – the part where they separate the soul and only a shell of its body is left. It is a bitter dream; a sweet nightmare. (But dreams are meant to come true and nightmares aren’t and she doesn’t know what to call it anymore.)

Rapunzel gets up out of bed, desperate to calm herself with a refreshing glass of water. On the way, she passes by the beast’s cavern. Standing by the entrance, she can make out voices: the beast and the beauty. The voices are hushed, angry and slightly threatening with a sharp and deadly edge.

“We should tell Rapunzel, Elsa,” she can make out the beast’s voice because her heart makes her mind and all her other senses recognise it.

“No, she doesn’t need to find out,” Elsa whispers relentlessly. She still wants to be perfect, even if her imperfections have already reached the surface.

As they keep whispering in muttered voices coated with heat, threats and aggression, Rapunzel’s eyes widen when she hears the satisfying smack of flesh against flesh, bed creaking, paraphernalia falling on the floor and Jack begging Elsa to stop.

The princess can just imagine it all – somewhere the voices coated in heat, threats, menace and aggression turns into muted voices and words lingering on lips. The beast almost begs the flawed beauty to stop using him and not everything has to be this way. But among her many imperfections, she is relentless and ignores his desperate pleas. (And as she listens, her heart is being chewed by the beast’s powerful teeth, leaving her heart no mercy.)

(But is that really what happened?)

x.              

She waits for the seconds to tick by; for time to pick up its pace like it always does. The princess does not why she is here again. She thinks she is better than this and smarter. Why is she waiting in the beast’s liar so she can be consumed by the beast again?

When the beast decides to finally come in view, her heart almost leaps for joy. But the casket is opened and her mind urges to run away. Run as far from the dangerous beast as fast as you can. (Her heart has already been consumed by the beast and therefore, her body will never listen to her mind. It will only listen to her heart and nothing else.)

“Will you tell anyone?” Jack asks her, cautiously. She shakes her head immediately. The innocent princess should tell someone, let out a cry for help. (But she doesn’t because her heart has already been consumed by the beast and slowly, her mind is following it.)

He plasters a smile on his face (and despite everything that’s happened, Rapunzel manages a smile as well.)

When a passer-by asks what they would like, he steers the reins. She doesn’t say a word but is impressed and surprised. He steers the reins his way perfectly. He steers the reins her way perfectly. In that moment, a heartstring pulls and she knows that her heart which has already been devoured by the beast has no intentions of returning back to her sleeve, where it belongs.

(Because Jack wouldn’t be Jack if he put everything back where it belonged.)

vi.            

Jack tells Rapunzel about Elsa and her many imperfections. He expects her to understand. She does; only to a certain degree and only to a particular situation.

“She has a mental disorder,” she nods. She thinks that was the case, “It causes major mood swings and anger.” He tells her quietly behind the flawed beauty’s back.

Elsa still wants to be perfect, even if her imperfections have already reached the surface. So Rapunzel understands her so that she remains perfect and not so obviously flawed.

The flawed beauty kisses the beast with all her heart, even though through casual lunches with the princess she claims otherwise. She doesn’t want the beast, doesn’t love the beast and doesn’t need the beast. But she knows Rapunzel wants the beast, loves the beast and needs the beast.

(The innocent princess is usually very forgiving; but this time, she cannot find it in her already-devoured heart to forgive.)

xi.            

The beast is dangerous. Rapunzel knows this. The beast knows where you live. Rapunzel knows this. The beast could kill you. Rapunzel knows this. But she doesn’t take extra precautions to make sure her haven is safe from the beast. Because she doesn’t, she is the victim of a beast trespassing into her property.

From the moment he talks to her, she knows that he is slowly wasting and crumbling away into ash (falling into the steps the flawed beauty has already carved for him to take). But he doesn’t come here for a merry chat. The beast comes to destroy her.

The innocent princess stares at him with wide eyes as he says something that her already-ripped heart cannot take. Her heart is fragile; it cannot endure all the obstacles the beast provided. He says four words and tears blur her vision as she chokes on blood: ‘I don’t trust you.”

(We’re friends, aren’t we? Why can’t you trust me?)

(What does it take for you to trust me then?)

ii.             

“I think I like someone,” the princess confesses innocently. Elsa raises an eyebrow, asking the question the naïve Rapunzel saw coming: Who?

She hesitates, “…Jack.”

Elsa lifts a sceptical eyebrow as to say ‘Really?’, but all she says is “Go for it!”

Rapunzel gives her an uncertain look, communicating an unspoken message. The flawed beauty stares back at the princess, not understanding. “No, definitely not.” She laughs (really laughs).

Her laugh is flawed, yet contagious. The princess cracks a relieved smile and laughs as well.

(She is unaware that life is what the beast seeks in the innocent princess but it is love that he seeks from the flawed beauty.)

xii.          

She adorns white armour, the only protection she has against him. She has a shield and a wielding sword but both are useless against his weapons and defences. He has already consumed her heart and no matter how hard she tries, she knows it will never come back. It would rather put itself through hours of endless torture, then return to the safety and comfort of her sleeve.

(“What does it take for you to trust me, then?”

“Everything, Rapunzel, everything." The words are left unspoken, dangling in the air between them but she knows what he means.

Then so be it.)

i.               

Jack waves the blue ten dollar note in front of her face, tempting the princess with the prize the beast has to offer. “We can have pizza tonight, though.”

She gives him a stern look that could scare anyone, except for the beast, “Jack, I like pizza,” the beast grins triumphantly and thinks he has won, “but I don’t like pizza brought from stolen money.”

He waves the blue prize in front of the princess’ face, unaware the princess has so many blue prizes she wants to get rid of them. “Come on, be a little rebellious.” He is a beast (but she doesn’t know that). For now, he is just charming and mysterious Jack, who she shares apartments with as well as Elsa, with an equally charming smile plastered on his face.

Her heart wavers. Should she? (She doesn’t know it yet but her heart has already left her sleeve to be devoured by the beast cowering beneath charms and looks.) Her conscience does not waver. Should she?

“Go put the money back,” she tells him sternly. (But the beast obeys no one, let alone a mere princess.)

When he doesn’t make a move, she shoves him into the direction of the cash register. He gives the money to Elsa (because if the beast did obey anyone, it would be the flawed beauty) so that she could count all the earnings for the day. She looks at it, then him, and gives him a discreet nod which slips through the princess’ vision but is filtered by the beast’s.

The flawed beauty plasters a perfect smile on her face, hiding all the imperfections, as she turns towards Rapunzel, “Come on, Rapunzel, where’s your sense of adventure?” She teases as she moves towards the cash register, her imperfect hands mixing with filthy cash. The princess plasters a smile on her face but resumes wiping the tables down like a chore.

(But Jack and Elsa wouldn’t be Jack and Elsa if they put everything back where it belonged.)

xiii.           

She waits for the beast to ravish the stroke of luck like it was his lucky day. She waits for the luck to plead to the princess to save it from the clutches of cruelty and imperfections that are slowly wrapping its invisible hands and choking it. She waits for the blade to split the stroke of luck in half; both halves never able to find one another. She waits for her heart to overflow with blood. She waits for the flawed beauty to let the imperfections appear and bubble over the surface. She waits for the beast to pick up the pieces and try to glue them together only to realise that the pieces don’t fit – not anymore. She waits to see the beauty that shines in the ugliness and imperfections they bathe in – a beauty that catches no one else’s but her eyes alone. They are so imperfect; but perfect together. They are so ugly; but beautiful together. They are so perfectly cruel; but beautifully cruel together. She waits; she wasn’t supposed to wait at all.

Now she knows the casket was never closed properly to begin with. This time, she will lock it forever and throw it into the ocean where no one can ever touch it.

vii.           

The flawed beauty is flawed. The flawed beauty is beautiful. Despite being flawed, she is beautiful. She has admirers. She rejects them all. Some give up straight away. Others are persistent. But none are persistent as luck is. The fourth time he asks, rejection is inevitable. Luck is defeated again and walks away with pity.

The princess watches the beauty bite her bottom lip – a fake act of guilt because her eyes have that evil gleam. She calls for Han and shyly accepts luck. His smile dazzles and the gleam only becomes more dominant. (The princess doesn’t want to know what is going on in Elsa’s mind.)

That night, the flawed beauty invites luck inside the door and Rapunzel doesn’t want to think about what is going to happen. She hides behind scents and tastes so she is hopefully never tainted (but she will be). The beast comes out from his hiding spot and the beauty sees him. She gives him a discreet nod which slips through Han’s vision, but is filtered by hers. Jack sighs and shakes his head.

Luck gives his all to the flawed beauty, giving her an opportunity to get rid of all her imperfections. He extends his hand, letting her be perfect even if her imperfections have already reached the surface. But among her many imperfections, Elsa is stubborn and doesn’t see a good opportunity when it is presented. She destroys it without hesitation. But she cannot destroy it alone.

She utilises her hesitation, unwillingness and pleading ways to manipulate the beast to her side. For a moment, Elsa looks uncomfortable to be clasped by a stroke of more bad luck than good. The princess is almost convinced but isn’t; the evil gleam is still present, peering through the cracks of imperfection consuming her. Rapunzel is not convinced; but the beast is. (And that’s all that really matters.)

The princess watches through hushed tears and choked whispers. The beast destroys Han until he is no longer luck but simply a shell of his body. The beast has separated his soul. Luck gazes hopelessly to the princess, hoping she can save him. The princess, no matter how innocent or how much she wishes to stay innocent doesn’t move and doesn’t let out a cry for help. (What horrifies the princess further is the realisation that the flawed beauty has led the hideous beast out of its hiding place, beneath charms and looks, where Rapunzel desperately wanted it to stay.)

The flawed beauty destroys his bodily remains and lets the blade split the stroke of luck in half – both halves never able to find one another. The princess feels her heart overflow with blood; she is tainted and scarred for life.

The flawed beauty stands back to observe her masterpiece closely. She sees her artwork displayed cruelly before her. The blade is a power-hungry weapon, wanting more bloodshed. The beauty is too focused on her doing to move. And she slowly lets the blade let the imperfections appear and bubble over the brimming surface. The beast tries to stop the blade, but the blade is more powerful than he is. He tries to desperately pick the pieces of the flawed beauty, including all her unwanted imperfections. He gathers them and tries to mend her. (But the pieces don’t fit anymore.)

xiv.          

The beast bores his eyes into her soul, taking parts of it with him as well. He always takes and never gives anything back.

(“Why did you tell?”

“Because I couldn’t live with myself otherwise.”)

He finally speaks to her and when he does, it comes out almost pleadingly. “But I love you.”

She bores her eyes into his soul, hoping that she can take parts with her as well. (But they both know she can’t do it, especially when he doesn’t possess one.)

“But you always truly loved Elsa.”

His eyes narrow dangerously, just like the beast he is. For a moment, she withdraws in fear but stops. (They both know that she’s won this round.) It is a wild guess, more education and executed than not. His eyes narrowing are all the confirmation she needs to know it’s true. (A dull ache resonates through her chest and she’s not so sure who the winner is anymore.)

He pretends she never spoke, "And I’m your husband.”

And she pretends he never spoke, “And I love you, too.” (In that moment, he decides to give her back all the shattered pieces of her heart.)

(Jack wouldn’t be Jack if he put everything back where it belonged. He is no longer Jack; he is simply the boy she saw when she first met him all those years ago. She is just the redemption he needed.)

When they take him away to the ugliness and filth of caverns fit for beasts (but he’s not a beast anymore), she knows that she has locked the casket properly this time.

xv.           

It manages to open, anyway – the casket. She has locked it forever and destroyed the keys but she has yet to toss it into the ocean where no one would ever be able to reach it or touch it. Someone has managed to touch it, unlock it and tamper with it.

She likes to think that maybe it was the Devil’s fault but she knows deep down that it is all Jack’s fault. It is all the boy’s fault; it is all the beast’s fault. (She doesn’t want to blame the beast for everything because he is no longer a beast.)

She kicks herself whenever she remembers she didn’t take extra precautions. A thorn rips through her almost-mended heart as she lets another imperfection be shown to the world – another beast growing, and running amok about the streets.