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"Ayla"

I called for my mother and gazed around our penthouse in an attempt to spot her hidden frame.

I found found her at the dining table with a fashion magazine in one hand and a cup of wine in the other.

"Dakota." She nodded. "How was school."

Her greeting was cold but I didn't mind, I was lucky to get one to start with.

"It was okay, I think I might have made a new friend."

"Oh."

I didn't let her disinterest bother me. Instead I sat down across from her.

"How was work Ayla?"

"Tiring."

I nodded. Silence coated over us.

I hated it.

"Are you taking those pills I told you about?"

My smile dropped.

"Yes, of course Ayla."

I lied.

"Good. Those pills should turn your body into perfection after a couple of months."

I didn't like those pills.

They made me throw up.

My mother, however, loved them. It made her skinny. "Like a model" she once said.

A model she once was.

Now she just designs the clothes they wore.

She wanted me to be a model to but to her standards I'm way too curvy. 

So she gave me those pills so I could achieve her perception of perfection.

I don't want to be a model though, my dream is to dance until my feet bore the scars of my hard work.

But dreams are for fools.

"Okay Ayla."

"Good. Now I'm busy with work. You should go."

I nodded and left to my room.

If dreams are for fools.

Then I wouldn't mind being one.

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