₊˚.༄ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐀 | ❛ catracha por siempre...oh, wait, you're puerto rican! ❜
✧ ━━━━ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡...elle velázquez falls for a flirty actor after her best friend gets a role on his show.
reality + social media
marcel ruiz x elle velázquez ❨oc...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Elle couldn't stop the tears that began pouring down her face. Her eyes were like a river, just flowing and flowing with water. Her throat felt raw and dry, but she just couldn't seem to stop. Elle didn't even know what she felt, either. An exploding rage or a burning guilt or a booming sadness. A mix of all three, maybe, felt more like it. Elle couldn't be more grateful that her mom and abuela were practically dead when they fell asleep. But suddenly, a new emotion entered Elle's domain.
Confusion, of all things.
Elle was confused on why she was crying, she didn't understand what caused her to feel this way. It could be that her breakup just provided the match to the dynamite which was her life. And then it hit her like a slap to the face, Elle had felt like this her entire life. She didn't realize until now, but the emptiness she felt inside her finally had an explanation. But she was still confused on the why part. She knew breaking up with Marcel had caused a little of it (she still unfortunately knew why they broke up), but she didn't know what else was the reason for her other emotions.
Her father, or the lack of one, came across her mind. Slowly, it all came back to a sobbing Elle. It was his fault she felt so horrible all the time. It was the moment he walked out the door, leaving behind her amazing mother and their broken daughter. She didn't even know why he'd left, the topic being much too painful for her mother to talk about. Her abuela would simply shake her head, putting a finger to her lips in a shushing manner. Around the time he'd left was when her abuela began living with them, when she was more of a mother to the young Elle than her actual mother.
Elle couldn't really remember that day, not even if she wanted to. It was a painful experience she didn't want to think about or go through again. The brunette sighed shakily, too wrapped up in her crying to care about her damp pillow. She gripped her blanket harder, just wanting to go away and never come back. She'd caused enough damage to enough people already, and she had a feeling that she wasn't done.
A new wave of fresh tears poured down her face, a strangled sob coming from her lips. She wasn't worried about her mother or grandmother waking up; they both slept sounder than the dead. Elle's eyes were a bright red along with her nose and small blotches of her cheeks. Her face hurt, feeling more sore than anything. She knew it was possible after that one dance recital where she was forced to smile the whole entire time, but she didn't ever think she'd feel it again. Elle would never make her face sore from anything except dance again.
Her mind trailed back to her father and, more specifically, why he'd left. Was it because he didn't love them? How could he not love them, or at least her mother? Elle understood why he wouldn't love her, but why not her mom? Her mom was the sweetest, most amazing and best mom there ever was. She played both mother and father, coming to both parties at school even when all the other dads glared at her. She simply held her head high and proved to everyone she was enough for Elle. Whenever those dumb rich girls at school would make fun of her for not having a dad and Elle would get in trouble for pulling their pigtails too hard or punching them in the face, her mom was enough. So why couldn't her mom be enough for her dad?
Elle couldn't shake the thought, her knuckles a ghostly white from gripping her blanket too hard. She didn't like it, the thought of someone deciding to just leave. Ironically, she'd done it many times before, and for that she hated herself. Elle Velázquez hated herself so much it hurt. Everyday she carried around a passionate, flaming hatred for herself that only grew the longer it was bottled in. It's been that way for ten long, long years. Ten years of principal's offices, of failed therapy, of feeling like she wasn't good enough for the world.
She knew of kids who were like her, angry all the time because of abandonment. But she never thought that's what she was like. Elle always assumed she was a lot worse, meaner and ruder and overall a more horrible person. She wasn't, but she didn't realize that.
Elle Velázquez was simply a girl crying out in pain who no one seemed to care for.
☘︎
my poor baby :(( i feel horrible about putting elle through so much but it's so necessary for her character development but it doesn't make me feel better about doing this to her. like i literally look like >:( rn
p.s. if any of y'all, and i mean ANY OF Y'ALL, feel like this about yourselves, please feel free to pm me and get it out if you need or want to! i'm always here for you guys and i don't express how much i love and care for you! <3
