MY NAME IS Wyndchyme, and this is my story. I want to be famous; it's been
my dream and always has been, ever since I was a kitten. I'm what one of my
friends refers to as a teen Aisha now, so I've been dreaming for a pretty long
time! I know I'm talented and unique, but I never seem to do that well. Apparently
I need more publicity, or exposure. And for a change, I thought of a way to
get it.
"Starsies,
I want to be in the Beauty Contest," I chirruped, tugging on the bottom
of her jumper. She looked down at me and watched as I scrabbled up the cupboards
until I sat on the counter with her.
"Wyndie,"
she paused, at a loss for what to say. Finally, she came up with a response:
"Why? It's not your style, really. It's shallow and pretentious and pathetic
and fake and really, a waste of time. It's demeaning, Wyndie. People treat you
like you're a piece of meat," I replied stubbornly: "I want recognition."
She glared at me.
I glared back. Our gazes were locked. Sooner or later, one of us would snap.
It was Stars. She
sighed.
"Fine... what
do you need me to do for it?"
"Uh, draw
me?"
***
Instead of drawing me, Stars merely raided through her files. She draws
me too much, since she claims to have problems drawing my sisters... so me and
my Aisha friends have a lot of pictures. I like the one she chose. It looked
all sketchy and soft, like the Aisha on the paper was really real and furry.
The colours were bright and strong, and, to be honest, I looked pretty.
I sat in front
of the mirror, with the picture clasped gently in one paw. The picture was...
well, it was me, but it seemed like everything had been rearranged a little
to give a more pleasing effect. The picture was a normal Aisha- well, not quite.
A normal half-Alien Aisha, I should say; it had the extra earstalks. I wear
my extra earstalks with pride, I love being unique like this, especially since
I'm half-thief too. Maybe it was a little skinnier than it should be, the earstalks
a little longer, but it still looked pretty standard.
I looked up from
the paper and cocked my head to one side. My ears are overly large, all six
of them. My earstalks and tail and legs are too long, and I look thin and bony.
My eyes are big and bright, but usually hidden behind my glasses. My hair is
quite long and usually a little tangled, and a pale, washed-out blue. And my
feathery wings are a bit too big. I look like a mess, like whoever made me had
all of their pieces right, but they just didn't put them together properly.
I'm not really pretty, definitely not beautiful, and I'm far too quick and fiery
to be 'cute'.
I don't really
care though. As one of my friends said, being around me is like being caught
up in a freak whirlwind- there's chaos, there's energy, there's fun. I give
the impression of being pretty, and since I'm positive and hyper too, no one
seems to notice I'm not.
The next thing
I remember quite clearly is being in the small changing room, near where the
photographs were going to be taken.
Comparatively,
this was going to be an easy contest, easier than the dozens I've been in before.
All I needed was a sketched picture and a photograph. And the photographs were
going to be done properly, by a Skeith who could work a flash and didn't leave
fingerprints on his lens. It was going to be very similar to the standard Neopian
ones- no talent necessary. No need to give a long speech about loving Neopian
peace, working with kittens and the sick and improving my own learning. Blagh,
it's just so monotonous and repetitive. But I'm competitive, and, like I said,
I want the recognition.
I had a flask of
Pinanna coffee next to me, and I was yawning sleepily. But I felt better, and
like I could do better. I'd been groomed so much I ached all over where the
hair had been pulled, Scorchio Glitter had been dusted over my wings until they
shimmered and shone, silvery specks nestling in between the soft, downy lilac
feathers. My glasses shone too, and kept reflecting the bright lights behind
the scenes. There was a battered straw hat on my head, half-covered in fresh
flowers. I swigged some of the coffee before jumping down from the stool- I
wanted to go over and see the pet in charge, an old white Lupe, before the photographs
were taken and presented to the judges.
I stopped dead
in my tracks when I saw Cee. I don't know what her full name is- there are probably
some underscores and numbers in there somewhere. But I knew her from my dance
class. Her owner had won a million Neopoints at Coltzan's Shrine, and Cee had
been snobby enough anyway. The money hadn't helped. She looked down on me all
the time, "due to my breeding" as she put it.
She was balanced
precariously on her two back paws, and she wore malformed high-heeled shoes.
She had short puffed dress, covered in lace and ribbons and frills. It was quite
sickening. Cee was trying to be human, and failing miserably.
She swaggered as
she walked and pushed me to the floor, muttering "freak..." Suddenly
an inspiration hit me, and I reached out and pulled her fat tail sharply. She
moved like a cartoon, legs pedalling in the air for a split second, before landing
flat on her face. I sniggered. Cee rolled around and glared at me.
"I'll get
you for that, Wyndchyme Kanajere. Was that something you learnt from those cowardly
Alien Aishas? Or something from those scummy thieves?"
Before I could
stop it a low, rumbling growl escaped my throat. Cee nodded, sneering.
"Ah. The thieves."
She stood up, leaving me in the floor. "Animal," she spat the word
with disgust. I gave her a sharp look, attempting to express contempt, hatred
and the general feeling of astonishment at her stupidity.
I'm a Neopet; of
course I'm an animal. What did she think I was? For that matter, what did she
think she was?
Lyrics from a song
I'd written, called "You'll see" began racing through my head:
Another ordinary
day
People turn and
look away.
Talk about me behind
my back
Push me around,
knock me off track.
Yeah, Cee definitely
counted as people. She hates me, and I hate her. But, like the rest of the song
said, one day people will see who I really am, and I'll be a star.
To be honest, I
didn't care about any of the other contestants. There were about twenty of them
though, I think. Baby Aishas, rainbow Aishas, shadowed and white Aishas, split
Aishas... some dressed up, some not, some old, some young, some- well, most
of them, to be honest- taller than me... a complete mix of elegant feline creatures,
only really similar in the fact that they had two long, staked ears on their
heads.
None of them seemed
to matter now though. Cee annoyed me so much, with her sickening 'I'm-so-much-better-than-you!'
attitude. Now, not only did I have to get some recognition, make people see
who I was, I simply had to beat Cee.
I stepped out in
to the bright lights, and squinted in the glare. The compare waved at me at
held out a paw. I shook it, nervously.
"Are you Miss
Wyndchyme Kanajere?"
I nodded, and jumped
when the Lupe coughed at me. I realised I hadn't let go if his paw and dropped
it, embarrassed. He started to laugh at me.
He signalled to
a chair and I slunk away to sit down. It was a rickety little stool in front
of a white screen, and it wobbled even under my slight weight. The Skeith hiding
behind the camera smiled, and looked up at me.
"Could you
just turn to the left a little dear? No, not so much…" he started to give
me orders. "Look up, towards the light… Tilt your head a little…"
The camera flashed
several times in succession.
"Thank you
very much, if you would just like to go over there--" I was lifted off
of the stool a pushed gently towards the doors marked exit... "--And just
confirm your details please. The results will be in The Neopian Times next week..."
It's odd, so much
preparation for so little an event.
But I stopped near
the door, and turned back. Cee was being ushered in, and I glared. She giggled
in a supposedly cute, high-pitched way, and did what I expected was a simper-
it's not something I've seen before, or I actually find easy to describe. It's
that silly, feminine movement that means someone's trying to be cute or adorable.
My heart sank.
I thought Cee looked abysmal, but it was quite obvious I was pretty much the
only one.
***
"I can't believe
she won!" Stars cried.
"I can,"
I said.
Cee had won, hands
down. She was thought to be pretty and seemed talented and intelligent- the
idea of it made me want to laugh, but I know her a little better than the voters
did. I had been eighth. Not even properly placed.
Stars looked thoughtful
for a second, a lifted a hand to scratch her head- not a good idea when I'd
been nestled quite comfortably in her arms. I slipped a little, but she caught
me again. "Wyndchyme, the beauty contest is not about looks. It's not about
talent. It's about timing and who you know. If you're well known like Cee, rather
than just infamous like you, you've got a better chance. If you can have a big
guild you can ask to vote for you, you've got a better chance. And timing? It
depends who you're in the competition with. If you're in with someone really
famous, or someone who's got a really artistic owner, you don't stand a chance."
I sighed. Taking
about how corrupt the Beauty Contest was didn't help. "Look at me Starsies,
I'm a mess!"
"So? So am
I!"
"Yeah, I don't
know what you do but you're a kinda pretty mess!" She leaned down and rubbed
her nose against mine.
"Flattery
will get you everywhere," she said. "Want to go our for pizza?"
I nodded.
"If it's any
consolation, Wyndie, I think you're beautiful..."
I smiled at Stars.
"Starsies, you're my odd human, you're meant to say stuff like that..."
"Nah, I'm
not the only one. What about Sha?" I blushed and giggled. "And your
friends like Rince and Quatri and Zee and Kary and--" At this point I held
up a hand to silence her, before she listed the entire LJ Gang.
"Starsies,
I get the picture," I said, half-laughing at her earnest, chirpy eagerness
to cheer me up. "Now where's that pizza?"
I half-plodded,
half-fluttered up the stairs until I got to my room. I shut the door behind
me and hopped on to the bed, pulling out a tatty blue book, ready to update
my journal on the recent events. Suddenly, I grinned to myself. I though of
a way of getting more publicity after all.
I picked up a pencil
and started to scribble frantically on to a piece of paper: "My name is Wyndchyme,
and this is my story..."
The End
Author's note: Lyrics to "You'll See" are copyright to Miss S. E.
H. K., aka starsintheskies, and Wyndchyme Kanajere should she exist. Wyndie is
a half-Alien Aisha and she is mine. If you want a unique pet, get your own idea.
Hugs to my Alpha and Beta readers for their comments, criticism and so on and
so forth. | 
