I'm Not a Princess

The sun is warm. Bright blue skies. The ocean is only a few dozen miles over, possible in a two hour's drive. The edge of the city shows three parts around their hotel. One, the city. Two, empty plains. And three, the closest town just on the outskirts.

"It's so cute," Vicky grins, looking out the window and watching the girls hustle and bustle, unpacking for a day of no rehearsal. She watches everyone move around and chat for several minutes. Everyone was loving it- tomorrow would be a short rehearsal as well, and then full day, and then a concert. It was practically the only break they had on the tour.

It takes her no time at all to spot Avery slumped at the kitchen, staring at her orange juice. She hadn't had any to drink yet, but she stared and stared like there was no tomorrow. Curious, she strolls over.

Don't come over, don't notice me. Avery's chants inside her mind don't assist her in the least as Vicky comes over, hips swinging with the usual sly smile on her lips. She pulls out a chair, and sits down. She waits a minute before speak. "So... what are you doing?"

"Nothing," Avery says automatically and tonelessly. Her hands slip from the table, into her lap. She glances away from the orange juice. She can't even recall why she poured it- she hates oranges.

"Anything wrong?"

"Nah."

"So why aren't you happy?"

"I am."

"Sure. Just like someone who's been diagnosed with fatal cancer." Pause. "Wait..."

Avery shakes her head, suppressing the tiny urge to smile. Letting out a small sigh, she rests her chin on her palm, elbow on the small kitchen surface. Her eyes flicker around, loving the 'family suite' they had been given. It was unlikely they would use much of the kitchen, but it seemed more like a home this way.

"So? Come on," Vicky sticks out her bottom lip. "Don't you want to have fun? You love to dance! What's been going on?" She pouts some more. "Are you homesick? We can go towards the city. Or! The little town would be adorable," she cooes hopefully.

The idea makes Avery's stomache churn. "Been there, done that," she murmurs, shaking her head. The secret is out.

"What?" Her friend perks up. "You? Here? When?"

"I lived here," Avery admits. "In the town."

"But... your accent?" Vicky raises her eyebrow.

"Practice," Avery shrugs and rolls her eyes. "My roommate can still hear traces of it."

"Are you saying you don't want to go back to your home?" Vicky returns to the point, moving on with the subject. Arms on the table, she looks forward eagerly, hoping for a story.

"Not really." She rubs her arm guiltily. "I mean, I guess my parents miss me..." She bites her lip and then shakes her head. "But no. My last memories of home weren't exactly fun." She closes her mouth, leaving it there.

"Ugh, fine," her friend realizes she won't be saying anymore. "Fine. So we don't go to the town- yet. But the city," she sings convincingly. "You know you want to! Come on, come on. We're going to dress you up, and you'll forget all about being sooo close to home, got it?" The way she speaks offers no options. "Good. Now go get dressed!"

"But I am-" Avery begins.

Vicky snorts. "Sweats won't cut it, girl." And shoves her towards her bags to change for the day.