choni oneshots

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As she approached the restroom shoved into a hallway just outside of the living room, she felt uncommonly inconvenienced. Outside the small washroom was a line of various people either making out or simply waiting to use the bathroom. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. Cheryl couldn't even fathom attempting conversation with individuals so easily pleased.At that moment, Cheryl came to the conclusion that the only option she had was to go to a different restroom area. Although it was generally bad form to go into the upstairs area where parties were concerned, no one would stop her. She was Cheryl Blossom aka Cheryl Bombshell. With years of experience in prosiding over the peasants that made up her fellow party goers under her belt, the least any one of them could do was let her use the restroom where she wanted.

She ignored the stares she got as she walked the stairs up to the second floor. Those who saw her were smart to say nothing as she would have given them an earful in her current mood.
Cheryl entered the restroom after a brief knock and pushed her back against the door to force it shut. She finally felt alone and away from all the craziness that was outside. She was finally able to take a breath that couldn't be seen.
Not knowing what to do with her new found privacy, Cheryl walked to the sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked as perfect as always. Some would say that she was being narcissistic, but those people would do well to remember that she made it her business to look perfect. It's not to say the look she held didn't come with a great deal of effort and hours of practice, but the perfection was something that had naturally grown around her. Growing up in the eye of the town can do that to a person.
Suddenly, Cheryl felt the urge to erase everything that made the town's eyes so focused on her. She desperately wanted to splash her face with water to allow everything to run off her like the fake painting it was. She wanted to take every pesky bobby pin out of her hair and bend them so that they could never be used again. She wanted to rip off the red dress that fit her every curve and break the heels off the shoes that even she found to be a bit too pricey. She wanted to look broken and confused. She wanted to look like how she felt.
This, however, could not be done. Instead, Cheryl settled for washing her hands. Granted, she violently scrubbed at them as if washing off the germs was equivalent to washing off everything else. It wasn't the same though.

Once Cheryl had dried her hands, she returned her gaze to the mirror and laid her palms down onto the countertop. Would it be so terrible if she were to leave right now? Certainly it would be possible sneak out without attracting too many eyes. She could slip away and all that would occur would be some slight social repercussions and a well thought out excuse given to any who came asking questions. It would be so simple, yet she stayed. Image was everything after all.
Cheryl looked herself over once more. Maybe if she looked hard enough, she could find a reason to smile and act as though she didn't feel like that cloak from before hadn't also managed to cover her soul. Something might work. It had to.

Then it did.

Just as Cheryl opened the door to the restroom, willingly relinquishing her privacy once more, she was so easily reminded of why she felt like this. She could vividly remember all the parties with which she had been unconsciously comparing this one too. Memories flashed around her mind as she recalled just how she'd begun to feel like this. How could she have forgotten?

On either side of the door frame, two sets of eyes met in a way that one would describe the warring of two countries as. A silent settlement on the aggression that filled them up, mixed with a level of confusion about how they'd managed to get here was allowed to settle in all around them. No words were spoken, yet emotions were being conveyed with ease from one glance to the other.
On the other side of that door was the familiar face Cheryl had tried to become unfamiliar with. This face brought Cheryl such an unbearable concoction of 1 part joy and 99 parts heartache.