"Hello," Natasha said, smiling at the camera, "Welcome to Simple Living. I'm Natasha Simple, and I'm your guide to feeling good about yourself, or at least better than you usually do. If you only feel good once a week while watching my show, then that's better than nothing I'd say. I'm happy to be of some sort of service."
Natasha sighed and leaned forward on the couch, clasping her hands and thinking. "You know, it's an unusual week this week, because it's the annual birthday show I do," Natasha said, "and as such, today is my sisters birthday. Actually, the birthday show was created as a way to honor my sister, because, as those of you who have siblings are likely aware, having a sister is a real blessing. Sure, sometimes they can be a nuisance, but in the end its always worth it isn't it? Have you ever had a fight with a sibling? You can admit it, it happens, we all know it. Well I had many fights with my sister growing up, but we always wound up coming together again even stronger because of them." Natasha stood up and walked around to the small table beside the couch and smelled the flowers in a vase atop it, before exhaling, smiling widely and looking back at the camera. "...relationships are important, and all relationships have their hard times. Not everyone needs them, granted, plenty of people leading perfectly full lives without the companionship of others romantic or platonic. Some people cut off their family for being toxic, or chose their friends wisely because of poor past interactions. All completely valid things to do, honestly. There's no room for undue negativity in your life. Lord knows we get plenty of negativity we can't escape so no reason to openly invite more in if you don't have to. But I always found my relationships to be worthwhile, especially my relationship with my sister. And her birthday was always one of those special days, hence why I created an entire episode based around it." Natasha walked across to a wall on the set and gently dusted then straightened a painting hanging somewhat askew, before sighing and looking back from the painting to the camera. "This episode was once a loving tribute, and an open love letter itself, to the girl I so luckily got to call my sister. Someone who was always there for me, even during a fight, someone who never questioned me, even when I likely warranted questioning, someone who simply understood that being a sister meant just being there. Understanding and accepting, helping and loving. And my sister was extremely good at loving, moreso than I thought apparently, because she was so adept at it that she wound up stealing my husband." The air in the room got sucked out as Jay gritted his teeth and stayed in focus, trying not to think about whatever Natasha was about to say or do. "I can remember my sister hosting my wedding her own backyard. A small personal wedding, and she hosted it herself, because that's how happy she was for me. She was thrilled to see me finally find someone I wanted to settle down with. Well, to be fair, my husband and I had been together for ages by that time, but still, she always wondered if we'd ever finally tie the knot, so to speak, and she was so happy when he finally proposed that she offered to organize the shindig herself. I can't imagine that she could go from appreciating my husband to be to stealing my husband to be, but that's how it worked out I suppose. Sometimes in life crap just happens and it hurts, a LOT, but you deal with it. Now it's her birthday, and she's spending it with the man who will be my ex husband, and all I'm left with is this annual birthday episode, created for and often dedicated to my sister. The very same sister." Natasha sighed and walked back across the stage and sat back down on the couch. She pulled her hair back and tied it into a messy bun, then cleared her throat and grinned. "I know sibling rivalry is a thing that exists, but I think stealing your sisters husband might be taking that concept much too far, don't you? When I got pregnant with my daughter, Violet, I thought about how sad it was that she wouldn't have a sister. My husband and I never planned to have another child, we only wanted the one, and I thought about all the great things she'd be missing out on by being siblingless, but, in hindsight, perhaps I inadvertently saved her. Who can hurt you more than those who know you best, and who knows you best other than a sibling? I think that maybe my daughter got off easy in that regard, as I didn't set her up for a lifelong disappointment of having what you think is a best friend so easily become your worst enemy. I'm not even that mad at my husband, that's the sickest part. His betrayal? I'm over it. I'm mad with my sister." Natasha leaned back on the couch and ran her hands down her blouse, straightening it. "Men cheat. It's just a universal thing we all have accepted, terrible as it is. And, so as I don't come off as a misandrist here, plenty of women cheat too. It isn't a thing only men do, lots of women have been known to break up marriages, relationships, whatever by cheating. But it's a universal thing we all have accepted is that men generally cheat for one reason or another. Sometimes the reason is, understandably, somewhat valid. I know that may shock you to hear come out of the mouth of someone who was cheated on, but let's be honest, ending a relationship is hard and scary, and sometimes the easier thing to do for some people is just cheat, and hope that eventually that's what ends it instead of owning up to your unhappiness with one another and ending it willingly. I'm not condoning cheating, for the record, I'm just saying that there's layers to this sort of thing. But, because men cheat, it didn't come as that much of a shock to me when it happened. No, the shock came when I learned who he cheated with." Natasha looked at the nails on her hand and took a long breath. "And that's what hurts the most, honestly, is when someone you trust, someone you've dedicated a portion of your work to, decides to turn around and hurt you. I gave her a part of something that is from my soul, this show, and she tainted it with her cruelty. This show, which was always only ever meant to be helpful and loving and full of kindness, now has this stench of irrevocable hatred to it, and that makes me so sad. And that's the weirdest part of all is finding out what matters most to you in these sorts of times. I was upset my marriage failed, I was mad my sister hurt me, but really I'm most upset that she damaged my show forever, something that was meant to be so pure and good and now will forever be tinged by this moment." Natasha sighed heavily and rubbed her face with her palms, clearly trying to keep her cool, before dragging the ottoman from the couch over to the edge of the stage and sitting as close to Jay's camera as she could. She smiled again and continued. "I guess what I'm telling you is that you can absolutely do things for those you care about, those you love, even let them into your innermost personal and private projects and desires, but don't be surprised when they throw them right back in your face. And don't feel bad if you don't want to let people in because of that. There's absolutely nothing wrong with keeping what you love the most close to your heart and for your eyes only, especially if its something you made, that's important to you. I created a thing for beauty, and she, with a simple decision, turned it into a thing of ugliness. I will never forgive her for that. I started this show around the time my daughter was five or so, and it's been a very personal and important aspect of my life since then. It's almost like a second child. And I feel like the people I maybe help are my friends in a way. You obviously like me enough to take what I say to heart." Natasha breathed heavily and wiped the tears rolling down her face before shaking her head and soldiering onward. "And that's what makes me happy. Knowing that even without her, the birthday show still has meaning. It's a rebirth. It can be the birthday of something new now. Something better. Something she had no say or part in. Something that no longer represents her or her incredibly unspeakable act of pettiness and selfishness. Now the birthday show belongs to all of you. All my viewers, my friends, the people I've somehow managed to help, the people who might have turned to me in a time of need. This is our episode now. Your episode, and nobody can ever take that away from you." Natasha stood up and walked over to a picture hanging on the wall behind the couch with two women in it, one of herself, and the other, presumably, of her sister. She touched it before taking it down from the wall. "A lot of people will tell you that cutting out family members isn't right to do, but toxicity isn't specific to any one kind of person, nor is it specific to any one kind of toxicity. It comes in many shapes and sizes, many colors and forms. And you're perfectly fine if you decide you don't want your parents to know your children, or something to that effect. This photo of my sister and I on my first day of shooting has hung on this wall on this set since the day it was taken. It was meant to commemorate our bond, as sisters, as friends, and - with the addition of the birthday show - as creative partners of one kind or another. But she doesn't deserve that anymore, so let's destroy relics of the past so we can welcome icons of the future." With that, Natasha started smashing the photo against the small table beside the couch, as Lawrence watching off set ran his hands over his face in both disbelief and incredible appreciation of her growth and acceptance of her situation. Jay shook his head and exhaled, grinning himself as he tracked her movement back across the stage. "So if you're at home, and you wanna celebrate this new birthday show, your birthday show, dear viewer, then help me with a special birthday chant we can say. I'm thinking something along the lines of 'Dear Ashley, screw you!'. Come on, we can all shout it together at the top of our lungs! Or, if you'd prefer, substitute my sisters name for the name of a relative you personally have cut out of your life or hurt you in the past! Fuel your growth with the ashes of your burnt bridges! 3 times we'll shout it!" With that Natasha cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, 'Dear Ashley, screw you!' three times, each time with members of her crew joining in even, surprising her by their support. Afterwards she looked at the camera and she smiled, looking happy as can be. "You may have taken my husband, you may have been the favorite, but you know what you'll never have? My show. MY show, and now OUR show, mine and the viewers. Let's read some birthday mail, shall we?" she asked, sitting down and beginning to open a small pile of letters on the couch beside her. The television clicked off in a household, and Natasha's image faded from the screen, leaving only Ashley and Stephen to stare back at the now black television screen ahead of them. Stephen exhaled and ran his hands through his hair as he stood up and began to pace. Ashley chewed her lip and looked at her shoes. "I...I didn't expect that," Stephen finally said, "That was, uh...something else." "...I can't even blame her," Ashley said quietly, "...I really can't. What I did...what we did...was just awful. You left a daughter, not just a wife. You left a whole ass family for me." "You'd think someone would take that as a compliment," Stephen said, sliding his hands in his pockets. "I mean, I...I do, and I love being with you, but she's unraveling on television, and she's gaining more and more popularity. Can you imagine what might happen if someone picked her up to do a national show? She's becoming unhinged." "I don't think she's unhinged, Ash, I think she's just extremely angry," Stephen said, "As she has every right to be." "...I need to lay down," Ashley said, standing up and heading to the bedroom, leaving Stephen to stand there alone. He turned the television back on but put it on mute as he watched his soon to be ex-wife go through fan mail, and he sat back down on the couch. He covered his face with his hands and sighed heavily, shaking his head. "...this is not going to end well," he said under his breath.
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Violet had always found comfort in bathrooms, and with the grief she got at school, she found the school bathroom to be no less of a comforting place to escape to. Thankfully the girls bathroom was excessively clean, and usually the girls didn't hang out in it like the boys seemed to hang out in theirs. So Violet locked the stall door, sat on the toilet, covered her ears with her headphones, and listened to whatever she wanted off her phone while she ate lunch in absolute peace. Sometimes she felt bad about leaving Courtney alone for lunch, but lately she just hadn't been feeling too social.
Sitting there today, eating a plain proscuitto and cheese sandwich on french bread, sipping her drink she had on the floor next to her feet, her head calmly bobbing along to her audio piping into her ears, she couldn't have been happier or more at peace. She felt a light rumble, and she pulled one headphone off an ear and turned down the volume, then listened closely as she heard a few girls enter. It sounded like a trio. She didn't recognize their voices. "She can try and pass herself off all she wants, with her fashion and stuff, but she isn't fooling anyone, not anyone who knows anyway," one girl said, "She's a total fraud, and she'll never be anything other than that." "My least favorite aspect of the whole thing is that she thinks she's one of us. Not like, our friend group specifically, just...another girl at school. She's not unpopular, but she's also only popular because of that aspect of herself. It's 'cool' now, or whatever." Violet furrowed her brow and took another bite of her sandwich, listening intently. "Whatever, as long as she doesn't try and be our friend I don't care," the first girl said again, "And she hangs out with that retarded girl, the one whose mom has that show, and it's like what a perfect pairing honestly. Two fucking losers society puts up and panders to." "That's not really the same, Tess, I mean, Simple can't help the way she is," the third girl said, finally chiming in, "that's just, like, something you get from birth or whatever." "I guess that's fair," the first girl, Tess, said, sighing, "Still, don't want either of them around me, but I guess I shouldn't compare them one another. At least one isn't pretending to be something she's not. That Simple girl, she acknowledges she's dumb, and she accepts it, she doesn't try and pass herself off as anything otherwise, and I appreciate that. Nothing worse than a fake personality." The girls finished whatever they were doing at the sink, one used a stall next to Violets, and then the three of them left. Violet pulled her legs up on the toilet lid and sat cross legged on it, finishing her lunch. She gently pulled her headphone back down over her ear and chewed for a bit, then buried her face in her arms and cried. *** Natasha was sitting on a chair on set, reading from a script while the hustle and bustle of production resumed around her. She heard a door open and found Jay coming up on the set stage and sitting on the arm of the couch there beside her chair. Nat looked up at him and smiled, as he pulled his cap off and scratched his head, smiling back. "Yo," she said. "You almost ready to start again?" Jay asked. "I think so," Natasha said, "Hey, let me ask you something, do I sound sincere to you? Like, I don't sound like I'm reading prepared lines or something, right?" "Naw, you totally pull it off," Jay replied, "Really, I'm honestly always rather impressed, myself, cause it seems like memorizing all that kind of stuff would be difficult. I can't even be trusted to remember what I'm going to say next, let alone an entire script of things people expect me to say. So yeah, you're doin' okay." "Thanks," Nat said, pushing her hair back behind her ear, as Jay walked off and Sharla entered the main production room, hopping up onto the stage herself and seating herself where Jay had been, the both of them watching after him as he walked back to the main camera and got behind it, adjusting settings. "He's cute," Sharla said, "In a...weird, like a...a dating website commercial kind of way. Very non threatening, you know? You know how they always cast men wearing slacks and button down shirts and holding puppies? These are what they think women want." "They're not wrong, I want a puppy," Nat said, making Sharla laugh; Nat finished looking through her papers and looked back at Sharla, asking, "What are you doing on my set, anyway? Did you need something?" "No, just bored," she said, shrugging, "Are you shooting soon?" "Yeah, as soon as I'm done looking over this stuff." "How's your daughter doing?" Sharla asked, surprising Natasha who just shrugged and smiled. "She seems alright these days," she said. *** Violet was - much to her mothers lack of knowledge - not alright these days, especially this day in particular. After searching the school for the remainder of lunch, she finally found Courtney in the school library where she was using one of the school computers to write a paper. Violet sat down at the computer beside her, and just stared at her until Courtney finally glanced over, smirking. "Stop staring at me, it's creepy," Courtney said, laughing softly. "Some girls in the bathroom were talking about you," Violet said, getting her attention. "...about me in regards to what, exactly?" Courtney asked, turning away from the computer and fully facing Violet now. "I don't know. They called you a fraud. They say you...um...are not like them, or something," Violet said, looking embarrassed, "I already kinda forgot, I'm sorry. I don't have good memory." "It's okay," Courtney said, putting her hand on her friends shoulder, adding, "they're right, but you know what, I don't wanna be the kind of girls they are. I like the kind of girl I am. I'm not mean like them. I'm not judgmental, and if that makes me a fraud, then fine. I'll happily be a fraud." Violet started chewing on her nails, a nervous habit she picked up more since her father had left, and sat there, watching Courtney turn back to the computer and keep working on her paper. As she watched, Violet racked her brain, trying to figure out how in any possible way Courtney could potentially be a "fraud" of any kind, and she simply couldn't come up with it. The bell rang just as Courtney finished printing out her paper, and then said bye to Violet before grabbing her bag from the floor and rushing off to her next class. Violet stood up and headed towards her next class, only to be stopped by one of the girls from the bathroom. "Hey," she said, "I'm Tess, we have history together." "Hello, yes, I recognize you," Violet said. "I was wondering if you wanted to skip class and come hang out with us in the girls bathroom," Tess said, "We may have been...mean to you in the past, and we'd like to make up for that. I personally would like to make up for that. We're just gonna hang out and talk." Violet hesitated, but she'd rarely been offered a chance to fit in with her peers, so instead she nodded and silently followed Tess back to the girls bathroom. As they entered, they found one of the other girls from before already there, but the other was missing. Tess sat on the counter and pulled out a joint, lighting it up and passing it to her friend before turning her attention to Violet. "So your mom is on TV, right?" Tess asked, and Violet nodded, still not speaking as Tess was handed her joint back, took a puff and exhaled a moment later before saying, "That's pretty cool. What kind of TV thing does she do?" "She has her own show. She tries to help people," Violet said, suddenly extremely self conscious of how she sounded and how she spoke. "That's pretty neat," Tess's friend said. "She's a nice person," Violet said, making the other girls chuckle. The door swung open and the third girl from before came in, with Courtney by her side. Violet and Courtney stopped and stared at one another momentarily, until Tess finally hopped off the counter and handed the third girl the joint. "So," Tess said, "Violet, we know a lot of kids at school make fun of you, but we'd easily fix that if you do something for us. We want you to stop being friends with Courtney. That's it. That's all you'd have to do, and then you'd never have to worry about being harassed or made fun of again." "But...but I like Courtney," Violet said, making Courtney crack a little smile. "Well, Courtney doesn't belong in your life, just like she doesn't belong in the girls bathroom," Tess said, "and she doesn't deserve to hang out with girls and pretend she's one of them." Tess was now standing in front of Courtney, staring her down, making her feel uncomfortable. Violet stepped back and watched, unsure of what to do or say. Tess's friends, though appearing to laugh lightly at the whole situation, were in fact also unsure of what to do or say. This entire thing seemed to be housed directly between Tess and Courtney. "You're so unnecessarily cruel," Courtney muttered, and Tess laughed. "I'm not the one playing make believe, you're the one being cruel, making a mockery of us," Tess replied, "You think you're a girl, but you're not, and you never will be. I think it's time you accepted that and stopped trying to be something you're not. You might look okay because of drugs and whatever, and your family might have enough money to make you into something you're not, but you'll never be a real woman." Courtney looked at Violet, who looked like she was in shock, before turning and heading to leave, before Tess grabbed her around the neck and pulled her into a stall. She was laughing, cackling almost, as she pulled Courtney's head down towards an open toilet, about to submerge her head into it as her friends looked giddily onwards. Violet finally snapped out of her shock and didn't know what to do so she improvised by simply kicking Tess in the back of the legs, making her fall to her knees and let go of Courtney. Violet grabbed Courtneys arm and quickly lifted her up, the both of them making a rush for the bathroom door and once out in the hall, heading out towards the front of the school. They rushed out onto the sidewalk and down the street. Once they'd gotten far enough away they stopped in a nearby coffee shop and seated themselves in a booth. Courtney looked at her hands, irritated her nail had broke, as Violet just sat across from her, completely dumbfounded by what she'd witnessed. "That girl sucks so much," Courtney said, "God, someone needs to put her in her place." "...what did she mean?" Violet finally asked, and Courtney sighed, turning to face her friend. "Thank you for defending me," Courtney said, "I really owe you a lot. You really are a friend." "What did she mean?" Violet asked, reiterating her question. "...Tess and I used to be best friends, and she used to have a crush on me, back when....back before I started being Courtney," Courtney said, "I wasn't always physically a girl. I won't tell you my deadname or anything, because frankly the past is the past and it doesn't matter, but once I started being who I really am, she turned on me and she hated me with an intensity that made my heart break. She's never tried to physically attack me, but I guess it makes sense that it was only a matter of time before it finally happened." "...you...that's what they mean when they called you a 'fraud'?" Violet asked, and Courtney nodded, almost crying. "Please don't hate me, I'm always afraid everyone will hate me for things I never had any control over and it hurts so much to continue to lose people I care about," Courtney said, "I thought...when I befriended you, that maybe, like, you would understand me because you're different too, but not in a bad sort of way, in a perfect sort of way. That's why I guess I thought you'd be a good friend." "...do you..." Violet started, and then finished with, "do you wanna go to my house and watch TV?" Courtney smiled and wiped her eyes, nodding, as they stood up. Courtney bought them each some cocoa and then they headed off towards Violet's together, two outcasts who at least had eachother. *** "Sometimes it's hard to remember the things you like about yourself," Natasha said, staring at the camera, "but, it's important to make a constant daily effort to remember what's good about you. And I've always said that the best parts about myself, or anyone, is what's unique to them. Maybe we each have a specific skill we're good at, or maybe we have a visual difference that sets us apart. That's what we like about ourselves, or we should, and we should never let others turn that good thing around to be a negative." She sighed and stood up, pacing across the stage as Jay turned the camera, following her; at home, Courtney and Violet were watching Natasha on the television while they lounged on the couch together. "When my ex husband left, he told me that it was because I cared too much about helping others and not enough about being with him. But why is empathy a negative thing? That's the thing I'm best at, and how dare he try and make me hate what's best about me. And frankly, if that's how someone is going to try and make me feel about the best part of myself, then that's not someone I'd really care to help. So my advice for todays show is that, the next time someone tries to take the greatest part of you and make it the worst, just remember they're jealous because they don't have what you do, and that's why they want you to hate it too. Thanks for tuning in, I've been Natasha Simple, and I'll see you tomorrow. Remember to love one another, and yourself." The camera cut off, and the "on air" light went dead as Natasha sat again on the set couch as Jay came back up on the stage and looked at her. Natasha pulled a pillow and covered her face with it, screaming into it as he stood and watched, chuckling. "That was so schmaltzy," Natasha said, "I'm ashamed, and sickened." "Yeah, but it was true," Jay said, "And that's what people expect of you, especially now." Natasha pulled the pillow away and looked at him. "Do you wanna go get something to eat with me?" she asked, and Jay shrugged. "Sure, I don't see why not. Won't your daughter want you home though?" he asked, and Natasha laughed. "Please, if anyone is capable of taking care of herself, it's my daughter," Natasha said, "But I suppose I should call and let her know at least." Jay went to grab his coat and put some equipment away as Natasha pulled her cell phone out and dialed the house phone. Violet answered on the third ring, and Natasha could hear Courtney laughing in the background, and smiled at the sound. "Hi mom," Violet said, "We saw your show. Courtney wants me to tell you thank you." "...well tell her she's welcome, even if I don't know why," Natasha said, slightly chuckling herself now, "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I'll be home a bit late. I'm going to have dinner with a friend. Are you gonna be okay until I get home?" A moment passed, as Violet looked at Courtney enjoying herself flipping through TV channels and eating right out of a box of Oreos, and then she smiled to herself and answered, "Yeah mom, we'll be okay." "This donut is good," Natasha said, biting into the end of some fruit filled pastry of some kind, her other hand underneath it to catch whatever dripped out, "I'm surprised, I usually don't like donuts filled with stuff."
"The stuff is the best part," Violet replied, biting into her own cream filled bar, "The stuff gives it flavor, otherwise, it's just...you know...dough." Natasha laughed as she wiped her mouth on a napkin and sipped her coffee, "Fair argument," she said, "but I think I still prefer it without. I like the dough, call me old fashioned if you must. I think it alone stands out as enjoyable without all the unnecessary extras. Sometimes a little glaze or sugar on top is nice, but I could eat just a standard regular donut with nothing in it or on it and be fine with that." "And that's why you're weird," Violet said, the both of them laughing. Natasha and Violet had always done this. They'd taken time off work and school respectively to spend time with one another. It was usually one day a month, but it was a nice way for them to spend time outside of the house, and their usual day to day lives as mother and daughter. Besides, outside of Courtney, Violet had no other friends except her mother, and she liked it that way. And Natasha...well, she had work friends, like Jay, but she too was ultimately on her own now that her marriage had ended, so she enjoyed spending time with her daughter and being her best friend. Violet drank her hot chocolate and pulled her scarf up tighter around her neck, feeling cold. Winter was on its way, and she was not ready for it. She never liked winter, the coldness made her unbelievably depressed. Natasha cleared her throat and glanced around the cafe before looking back at Violet, and smiled at her. "So what else do you want to do today?" she asked. "I want to get some new clothes," Violet said meekly, "Can we go to a thrift store?" "Absolutely, I could use some new shoes myself," Natasha said, "These things are about to have their soles fall out of 'em." After the girls finished up their donuts, they bought yet another bag mixed with an odd assortment and another drink each and went along their way. Winter wasn't just on its way, it was already sort of here. Some days were colder than others, and some days were unusually bright and cheery - like the day that allowed Violet to go horseback riding - but most of the time it seemed like the weather had long since decided that cold was on the horizon and there was no stopping the inevitable. The girls zipped their coats up and headed out into the somewhat biting cold air, walking alongside one another. Even in this sort of weather, when capable, they preferred to walk instead of drive around town. It was a real way to spend even more time together. Car rides were short, walks can extend for a period of time, and sometimes make the entire day trip last longer if you wind up window shopping and find a store you're interested enough to go inside of, which happened often for them. "Everyone at school has fashionable winter clothes," Violet said, "but the fashionable stuff doesn't seem comfortable." "Well of course not, it's designed to be visually pleasing, aesthetically engaging, not physically comforting," Natasha replied, "Plus they're way overpriced, so I'm glad you aren't interested in that sort of thing because frankly money is tight enough as it is." "Don't people on TV make a lot of money?" Violet asked, stuttering a bit, blushing, embarrassed by her speech impediment. "Yeah, if you're on a broadcast network, not public access," Natasha said, chuckling, "Maybe if I was on a hit sitcom or something, but I'm not. I'm not lounging in a bubble bath made of money drinking the tears of orphans. I'm just some loser with a TV show." "You're not a loser, mom," Violet said. Natasha didn't respond to this, but it almost made her cry. Violet was her biggest fan, and she knew it, and she appreciated it so very very much. She could remember back when she was just thinking of doing her show, back when Violet was still in 2nd grade. *** "So, imagine this piece of cardboard with the hole in it is a television screen, okay?" Natasha said, as she sat on the ottoman and held the cardboard in front of her face, "I'll be on television everyday, and I'll be giving advice to people on how they can make themselves happy and positive. People will tune in just to see mommy. Doesn't that sound good?" Violet clapped from her seat on the couch, where she was sitting cross legged in a big blue oversized sweatshirt. "And I'll make money doing it! I'll make money helping people!" Natasha said, "Helping people is good, I'd do it even without the money, but it'll be nice because the money will mean we can take care of you, and buy you toys and food and clothes. You like those things, don't you?" Violet nodded vigorously, smiling wide. Natasha got on the floor, setting the cardboard down and crawled over to the couch where she looked up at Violet sitting there and smiled at her. She reached up and touched her little face, stroked her hair and shook her head. "Everything I do, I do for you," Natasha said quietly, "You are my whole world. But I can be more than just a mommy, I can be of help to everyone." Violet nodded, understanding, at least on a basic level, what she was trying to say to her. Natasha hugged her daughter and squeezed her tight, trying not to cry. All she wanted to do was put some good back into a world where she saw it dwindling away faster than she could say. This show was her best shot at making that dream come true. *** "What about these ones, mom?" Violet asked, holding up green sneakers, and Natasha shook her head. "Nah, can't wear green, interferes with our chroma," she said, "If we need to do greenscreen and stuff my feet won't show up, which would look kinda cool and all but still, I don't like the idea of being footless." Violet laughed and put them back on the rack. Natasha walked to the other side and started looking. "Are you ever self conscious about the stuff you wear on TV? Do you feel afraid people will make fun of you?" Violet asked, sorting through shoes in a nearby bucket. "Not really. I was never really a self conscious person when it came to my physical appearance. I mean, I don't wanna dress like a slob or anything, but I also don't care to wear high end fashion. I'm there to help their inner selves, not their outer selves." Violet pulled another pair of shoes out and admired them. "I like these," she said, "They're my size too. I'm always getting made fun of for what I wear, but I wear it cause it's comfortable." "And I'm proud of that fact," Natasha said, "I'm happy you prefer comfort over fitting in. Fitting in is fleeting. Comfort is eternal." Violet sat down and started pulling the shoe on, struggling with the lace. Natasha sat down beside her and pulled it up over her heel, beginning to lace it for her. "You know why I do what I do?" she asked, and Violet chewed her lip, shaking her head; Natasha continued, "To make the world a better place. But not for anyone else, just for you. The world has gotten so cold and cruel, and I want the world to have some sort of kindness in it so that you have kindness around you. So that you don't grow up in a world where people get off being mean to one another. I know the kids at school are mean, but...you're so much better than them. You ignore them and you persevere and I'm so proud of you for that." "It bothers me when they...when they make fun of my talking," Violet said, slurring her speech a little, wiping her mouth on her sleeve, "But that's the only thing, really. That and the nicknames. Do people get nicer when they get older?" "That really depends on the person," Natasha said, finishing the first shoe and starting on the second now, "Some people get nastier, but often those are people who were given everything on a silver platter to begin with, so yeah, context is important for a persons behavior, but it doesn't excuse or condone it either." Natasha finished lacing the other shoe just as a woman holding a little girl by the hand walked up to them. Natasha and Violet looked up at her, and she smiled at them. "Hello, I don't usually do this sort of thing," she said, "But I'm a really big fan of yours and I just wanted to say, as someone who's brother is developmentally disabled, it's wonderful to see you helping mentally challenged people in public. You really are a kind person." Nobody said a word. Natasha and Violet looked at one another, and then Violet stood up and walked away. Natasha stood up and ran her gloved hands down her coat, smoothing it out. "Thank you," she said coldly, before going after her daughter. She found Violet in a nearby stuffed animal section, hugging a horse doll firmly, crying into its soft fur. She sighed and walked into the aisle, putting her hands on Violet's shoulder. "...for everyone else," Violet said, "it's parenting, for you, it's charity." "I...sweetheart, I'm so sorry," Natasha said, trying not to cry herself, "She probably doesn't even know you're my kid, all she saw was me helping someone and I'm not...I'm not trying to make excuses or anything, that was beyond messed up, but you have to know that's not how I think of you." "I know," Violet said, squeezing the horse plush and wiping her eyes on her scarf, "...can I have this?" "The horse?" "Yeah. He's only 4 dollars," Violet said, and Natasha nodded, smiling warmly. "Of course you can, you can have anything you want," she replied. *** Sitting in the teachers lounge after school, Violet sitting outside in the hall with headphones on, Natasha couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. Violet was in 7th grade by this point, and things weren't going well for her. Seemingly every day she was coming home crying, sometimes even having to be picked up halfway through the day or at a designated "safe spot" away from the other kids. So sitting there, waiting for her homeroom teacher to say something, Natasha couldn't help but brace herself for the bad news yet again. Finally the homeroom teacher, Miss Briggs, sat down and offered Natasha a cup of coffee, but she politely declined. "We're all aware of what a hard time Violet is having-" she started, but didn't get far before Natasha interrupted her. "If I may, she's only having a hard time because other kids are giving it to her. And it isn't something she's bringing onto herself. It's not like she just doesn't fit in, wears the wrong clothes or likes a different band than they do. They're harassing her based on something she can't control, something that everyone her whole life has told me is a 'problem'. They're harassing her because she talks a little stilted, a little funny, because she stutters and has a lisp and she has a hard time comprehending otherwise simple to you or I concepts. Not because she's 'uncool' but because she's apparently 'stupid'." "Kids are cruel." "Yes, but it's your job to not let them be," Natasha said, "I do my goddamned best every single day to make her feel loved and special when she comes home, and thankfully they don't seem to be doing too much damage to her self esteem, but when is enough going to be enough for you people? When someone finally hits her? When someone sexually assaults her? I can't even allow myself to think of what it might be like for her in high school if this is how middle school is. That's terrifying to me, really." "Miss Simple-" "And the absolute worst of it all," Natasha said, her voice finally rising with a hint of pure anger ire in it, "Is how I'm looked at somehow as a hero for 'putting up' with her. I'm not a hero, I'm not a savior, I'm just another fucking mom. We're all just fucking moms, you know? My daughter just happens to have a developmental disorder, but really, empathy is only capable for those who're smart enough to recognize it, meaning she's smarter than every single little shithead who's hurting her." Natasha finally calmed down and picked up the cup of coffee, drinking it quickly, burning her mouth a bit. Miss Briggs sighed, somewhat surprised by this rather insightful outburst. "You're not wrong," Miss Briggs said, "Not at all. What she may lack in learning capabilities she more than makes up for in her love for others. She's a very sweet girl, she's full of heart and goodness, no surprise seeing as she comes from someone like you-" "That's the thing, she's NOT ME though," Natasha said, "she...she's her own person, and she shouldn't be judged on my merits. Because really, when it gets right down to it...she's a much better person than I'll ever be, even at this age. I can handle helping others through the television screen, but I...I don't know how to help my own daughter with this." Natasha started to cry, covering her face with her hands as Miss Briggs reached across the table and held her arm. "It's okay," she said, "We want to help you, we want to help her. We want to help you help her. And you're not wrong, she's a wonderful person who likely is smarter than all these little insecure assholes. So how do we go about working together to make sure she stays safe and happy?" Natasha didn't know. She shook her head and exhaled loudly, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. She never had the answer, because she never expected to be in this situation. After they left the school, driving in the car, Violet pulled her headphones off and, still looking out the windshield, asked her mother something. "...am I stupid?" she asked. "Absolutely not," Natasha replied, "you're like a horse. Strong and intelligent in ways others can recognize. Ways that are better than they are. You're the smartest person I've ever known because you know well enough not to be mean." Violet didn't respond, but she smiled, and she grabbed onto her moms jacket and held it the rest of the ride home. *** That night, sitting in bed, Natasha couldn't help but feel awful. Even now, even at the age she was and how far she'd come, Violet was still getting harassed, even by strangers, even unintentionally. Natasha stood up and walked out of the bedroom, down the hall and pushed open Violets door. She was sound asleep, nestled up in her bed with her headphones on, hugging the horse plush they'd brought home from the thrift store. Natasha sat down on the side of the bed and lightly stroked her daughters hair, smiling. Violet slowly opened her eyes and looked up at her mom, before pulling the headphones down around her neck, the sound of rain coming out of them. "Did you know that your grandmother used to call me stupid?" Natasha asked, "...she would be very mean to me and say really hurtful things. So one day I told her that I would be nice to everyone and help them see the beauty they could cultivate within themselves." "...and?" Violet asked, yawning. "...and you're the same way. You're going to do amazing things for people, like you did for me. You're why I have a TV show. You're why I try my hardest. Because when you love someone enough, it makes you want to spread that feeling around so everyone can share in it. I'm sorry that woman said what she said today. She didn't mean any harm, like I said, she probably didn't even know you're my daughter." "I know." "She just saw me doing something nice and wanted to let me know she appreciated it, because she likes nice people. She likes me, which in turn, means she likes you, whether or not she knows you, because you are an extension of me. I mean, you're yourself too, but-" "Mom?" Violet asked, and Natasha shut up and looked at her. "...Yeah?" "I love you," Violet added, and Natasha smiled, leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I love you too sweetpea," she said, standing up and grabbing a horse plush of her own, "Mind if I borrow one for tonight? I'd feel a lot safer with something in my bed to protect me." "My horse is your horse," Violet said. Natasha thanked her again, turned and exited the room, shutting the door behind her. She then went back to her own bedroom, climbed back into bed and hugged the plush to her chest. She turned off the beside lamp and shut her eyes, and cried herself to sleep. It was about 6:45 pm, and the AOPT ceremony was just beginning. The AOPT, Awards for Outstanding Public Television, was something that happened every single year, and this year, likely due to the buzz surrounding her recent public image, Natasha Simple had finally been nominated and won. But she was nowhere to be found at the ceremony, no, instead Natasha Simple was sitting in the hallway of a hospital, in her suit, looking at her watch. That's how she knew the ceremony was about to begin, after all.
She sighed and rubbed her palms on her knees, waiting to be allowed to be sent in. Violet sat down next to Natasha and tried to open a bag of snacks from the vending machine, but eventually gave it to Natasha, who happily opened it for her. Violet suffered from problems with hand eye coordination, and often struggled with seemingly simple things like this, but Natasha didn't mind doing it for her. Violet scooped some of the snacks into her palm and ate them one at a time. "How long will we be here?" Violet asked and Natasha shrugged. "Honestly, I thought I'd be in the room by now, so I don't have a clue," she replied, checking her watch again. "You don't want your award?" Violet asked, and Natasha chuckled. "I don't need an award to recognize the work I'm doing," she said, "I know what I'm accomplishing, the ones being helped by it know what I'm accomplishing it, I don't need some tiny tin statue to validate what I already know is true." A nurse walked up to their seats and looked down at them. Violet and Natasha glanced up and Natasha smiled at her. The nurse held up her clipboard and jotted something down before looking back down at her. "I think you can go in now," she said, "Sorry that took so long, they were still running some tests on her." Natasha thanked the nurse, then patted Violet on the back and gave her some more money for snacks in case she wasn't finished before she ran out of her current bag. She then stood up, smoothed out her suit, pulled her hair up into a bun and then walked into the room. The hospital room was bare bones, just some medical equipment and the patient. No flowers, no cards, absolutely nothing to show that people were thinking about this poor girl. And in the bed she lay; she was maybe 14, she was pale and sickly, her eyes had large dark circles under them and her hair looked unwashed. But she did perk up a bit when Natasha came in and shut the door behind her. "Miss Simple," the girl said, doing her best to sit upright, "You actually came." "Well of course I came, only a jerk wouldn't come to a request like this," Natasha said, sitting on a stool at the end of the bed, probably reserved for the nurses; she continued, "You look pretty good!" "Don't lie to me," the girl said, "We both know I look like a hot mess. I haven't been able to properly shower in weeks." "Don't they sponge bathe you or something?" Natasha asked, folding her legs. "I don't really like people touching me. They do it, yeah, but...I'm not comfortable with it so they don't do it very often," the girl replied. "That's understandable, I'm quite protective of my personal space myself," Natasha said, "So, Jenna, what can I do for you today? I know you asked to see me, and here I am, fulfilling your wish, but is there anything in particular you want to talk about?" Jenna looked at her hands and fiddled with the devices clamped to her fingers. She looked embarrassed, and Natasha couldn't understand why. After a few minutes, Jenna finally cleared her throat and looked back up at Natasha. "I just wanted to thank you," she said, "...you raised me more than my own mother." Natasha didn't know how to respond to this. *** Meanwhile in the hallway, Violet was putting another bill into the machine, trying to get a bag of cookies from the machine, when she felt a presence nearby. She turned to see Courtney standing there, smiling at her. Violet waited a moment, smoothed the bill out on her leg and then went back to trying to push it into the machine to be exchanged for cookies. "Need some help?" Courtney asked, "I have crisper bills if that's the problem." "What are you doing here?" Violet asked. "I had a doctors appointment," Courtney said, "I'm just waiting for my dad to come back and get me. He went to get dinner while I was in the office. What are you doing here?" "My mom is seeing some kid," Violet said, "She's sick." "Oh, like a wish fulfillment thing?" Courtney asked, and Violet needed as she groaned in frustration and handed the dollar to Courtney, who smiled sweetly, took it and replaced it with a fresh new dollar from her pocketbook. This worked instantly, and Violet tried to open the bag before handing that to Courtney as well. She gladly opened it for her, in exchange for a single cookie. "Why a doctors appointment?" Violet asked as they walked and ate, "Are you okay? You're not sick too, right?" "No, I'm not sick," Courtney said, "I just have a condition I need checked on from time to time." The girls continued down the hall and Courtney listened to Violet chewing the cookies, wondering if she should open up more about what she was dealing with. She figured, if anyone would understand, it would be Violet, being different herself. But before she could speak again, Violet started talking. "I wish we were going to the awards show," Violet said, "But my mom says she doesn't need an award to recognize her work. I don't think she does either, but I wish she'd let people compliment her instead of denying them the option to." Courtney smiled. "Yeah, your mom does a lot of cool stuff, she deserves to be seen for it," Courtney said, "Course, she's seen like every single day, on the television, but you know what I mean. She should've gone to the awards show...what if we got the award for her? What if we went to the show and we picked it up in her absence?" "...they'd probably let me, they know I'm her kid," Violet said, "...would you really go with me to do that?" "It'd be awesome!" Courtney said, "Plus then you could score, like, major brownie points in your moms favor!" "I don't need brownie points, she already loves me enough," Violet said, making Courtney laugh at how somewhat annoyed she'd sounded saying this, but Violet grinned and nodded, "Okay, let's do it! I know where it is, can your dad drive us?" "Totally!" *** "I'm sorry, I did what now?" Natasha asked, confused. "I was homeschooled by a tutor, and everyday for lunch I would be given an hour to decompress, and one of the things I'd do every day is watch your show. My parents were never really around, and so I kind of looked to you as a guide for how to be a good person. You kinda created my morals and ethics. You taught me how to take care of myself, and be nice to others. You were around and my parents weren't, so I always felt, I don't know, kinda like you were a mom in some way. A surrogate mom." Natasha felt herself wanting to cry for this child, who'd been all but forgotten by her own parents and instead had to turn to a woman she didn't know on a television to help provide her insight into how to grow up and love herself. "Jenna, I...I am a mom, so maybe that's what you picked up on, but I'm so so sorry that you had to turn to someone else for guidance like that. No kid should be without their parents. I'm glad I was able to be there for you when you needed someone, but-" "No, you don't understand," Jenna said, "You weren't just there when I needed someone. You were there all the time. You were the only adult I trusted. I looked around at all the other adults in my life and all I saw was hate and cruelty and lies. But you didn't do any of that, and instead you created self worth based on accepting who you were, not lying about who you were." Natasha sat back on the stool and sighed. She was somewhat shocked at this admission. She knew her show helped people, she'd met many fans who had told her this, but she'd never once been face to face with a young person, a child almost, who said she'd raised them. This was something she didn't know how to approach. "Because of you, even when I came to the hospital, and got sicker and sicker, I had you on the TV to look up to, literally because it's mounted on the ceiling, and you got me to feel happy even when I felt at my absolute worst physically. I owe you so much, Miss Simple," Jenna said, and Natasha wanted to cry. "You don't owe me anything, this is why I do what I do," Natasha said. She was sitting here in this room, helping this child, while her own child was out helping her, though her mother was unaware of it. Jenna went on to discuss her treatments, and how Natasha's upbeat attitude had kept her positive in the face of near certain death, and for the first time in ages, Natasha felt like she'd finally done some good again. *** Violet and Courtney were in the backseat of the car as Bryan followed the directions Violet had given him. He glanced in the rearview mirror and shook his head, exhaling. "You're sure this alright, right?" he asked. "I don't know," Violet said, shrugging, "But my mom never gets to feel good now, she's always helping others feel good, so I wanna do something for her instead." Bryan smiled. Violet was a sweet kid, there was no denying that. He was impressed, and thankful that his own child had befriended someone so kind and considerate. They took a few turns, got on and off a ramp and then eventually pulled up to the building where the AOPT was being held. He looked back at the girls and gave a thumbs up, saying, "Good luck." Courtney and Violet thanked him, knowing he'd wait for them to finish, then got out of the car and headed inside. The Inside of the building was well decorated for this event, and everyone was well dressed, the few they saw still milling about in the hub of the building anyway, as most were in the dining hall awaiting their awards. Courtney and Violet headed in that direction before being stopped by a large man in a suit with a clipboard. "Can I help you?" he asked. "My mom is Natasha Simple, she couldn't be here but I came to get her award for her," Violet said, and the man checked his clipboard, then nodded, and let the girls go on their way. They giggled as they headed into the dining hall area, and when they finally saw the stage where the awards were being given out, Violet really began to wonder why her mom was so hesitant towards being acknowledge for her work. Way she saw it, Natasha deserved to let herself be a little self absorbed from time to time. *** Natasha wrapped up her meeting with Jenna, promising to come visit her again, and even opted to pay for some of her medical expenses. As she stepped back out into the hallway, she leaned against the wall, covered her face with her hands and cried quietly into her palms. Natasha had never expected to have this sort of impact on someone, especially someone so young. She figured, if anyone, he words reached mass amounts of stay at home moms or divorced women, or even possibly college girls who felt lost themselves, but never someone Jenna's age. But, that didn't mean she didn't appreciate it. Jenna had needed someone, and Natasha, despite not being aware of it at the time, had been there. After her incident with Amanda previously, even with that winding up positive at the end of it all, this had been a much more welcome situation. Certainly hampered a bit by Jenna's incredibly unfair health conditions, but welcome nonetheless simply because Natasha, for a change, felt appreciated instead of shamed. Standing there, trying to stop crying, she heard the shuffling of feet approaching her. Natasha looked up and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, then noticed it was Violet who was standing there, holding a statue in her hands. Natasha looked at the statue for a long time, trying to process what exactly it was, until she finally looked back up at Violet's face. "What is-" "It's your award," Violet said, "You deserve to have it." "How did you-" Natasha started, as Violet pushed the award into her hands, but she stopped and just smiled, then pulled Violet in slowly for a hug, and Violet happily obliged, hugging her back. Natasha rubbed her daughters back and whispered, "thank you." "You do everything for everyone else, you should do something for yourself," Violet said. She was right, there was no denying it. Natasha pulled away and looked Violet in the eyes. "I don't deserve you," Natasha said, "You're a much better child than I am a mother. But thank you sweetheart, I truly appreciate it. Let's go get some dinner." Together, the Simple girls headed out of the hospital and towards the parking lot. As they climbed into Natasha's car, talking about Jenna and how Violet had obtained the award, they couldn't help but recognize just how lucky they were to have one another, Natasha especially. She felt like the luckiest mother in the world, and she wanted to give her daughter anything she wanted in return. They went through a drive through, got their food and sat in the parking lot, making fun of the shape of the award, which was modeled after a tv set, together while they ate. All in all, it was a good night for everyone for a change, even Jenna. |
About
Public Access follows Natasha Simple, a self qualified "self help" instructor with her own show on local public access. But when she makes a sudden and surprising statement on air, her entire life changes, for the better...and the worse. Archives
December 2022
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