The Imperfect Truth

by Notorious, revised by agz

 

The brightness of the stars was augmented by the seemingly endless stretch of surrounding black that was the night. The slight breeze teased the living with its touch of almost-cool in almost-hot weather. The streets of Odaiba were rippling with the too-die-for heels and dressy-for-the-first-time shoes.

 

She had waited for this day all of her life.

 

Stepping outside of their rented cream limousine, and stepping onto the too-trodden sidewalk, she immersed herself into the night that had made itself perfect. Just for her. Just for tonight. It was nearly the perfect fairy tale, as she and her perfect Prince Charming walked through the perfect night in their perfect tuxedo and perfect gown.

 

Perfectly.

 

So radiant of beauty were they that the crowd of common and plain habitually parted to let them through. Thus, they strode with perfect pride through the aisle of imperfect individuals with perfect smiles plastered upon their perfect faces.

 

Perfectly.

 

And the two of them, proprietors of the perfectly perfect night, made it through most of the imperfects with a perfect indifference that could stand unmatched through all of infinity and eternity. She, especially, found herself perfectly surprised with how perfectly superior and perfect she was able to make herself with a trip to the hairdresser and a trip to the mall. Though she would have found herself humble and on the same level of these almost symmetrical walls of imperfection any other day, behind the mask of her perfectly red dress and perfectly curly auburn hair she could laugh at them today. All of them.

 

Except for one.

 

And for a brief moment, whispers of smoke covered her perfect sky. And for a brief moment an icy cold squall overtook her perfectly subtle waft and chilled her spine. For a brief moment, her mask was torn away from her face. For a brief moment, she was condemned to spend a forever in a second holding up the imperfect aisle instead of striding through. For one brief moment, she had a face.

 

Time stopped and moved too fast all at once, and their soft eyes met each other while the rest of the world stood perfectly still. In that enigmatic second they stood forever, living too slowly for a world that was too fast.

 

His too-expensive turtleneck, khakis, and slicked back blonde hair melted away.

 

And her too expensive but knock-em-dead red dress, timidly shoulder-length curly-for-the-first time coffee hair was naught.

 

And for a brief moment they were just.

 

Just a boy.

 

Just a girl.

 

Just trying to find time to save the world and fall in love all at once.

 

Just perfectly imperfect.

 

And just happy about it.

 

...but only for that brief moment, of course.

 

Someone hits play, and time starts to roll along mercilessly again. The perfect stars pop perfectly back into their place in the perfect sky, and the gale gives way to another perfect breeze. She's left with her perfect prince, and he is left with an idle wish too perfect for this blatantly imperfect falsehood.

 

That she had never changed.

 

He's the perfect fool as he watches her walk by, more alone than she'd ever be by herself. Their eyes never meet again, and they never get a happily ever after. Still, the night is too perfect to be ruined by a brief moment of truth in her dishonest world. She's too busy with her Prince Charming. He dances so perfectly.

 

Well, almost.

-N-