Basket Case ━━━━ JJ Maybank︱✓

𝟬𝟬𝟵 valley of the dolls

          It wasn't long after when Izzy confessed to her mother that she knew the truth. And pretty soon, at just twelve, Izzy became her mother's support system; her therapist if you will. Sure, it brought them closer, but while Izzy was picking up all the broken pieces of her mother, she had neglected to care for her own issues. She supposed it was better that way. At least then, if Izzy focused on her mother, she wouldn't have to acknowledge all the anger building up inside of her.

          The anger, of course, seeped through at some points. It especially had a way of consuming Izzy when her parents would go back to normal the very next day and act as if they hadn't spent the whole night throwing plates at each other and screaming until their throats bled. That always pissed Izzy off, but she couldn't do anything about it. Her father would have a heart attack if Izzy gave any indication that the Windsors weren't perfect.

          (And get this, William even went as far as to pay the staff (or as he called them 'the help' with a bitter taste on his tongue) extra just so they would keep their mouths shut about what happened behind the walls of the Windsor estate. He'd do anything to keep his image as good as gold. Oh, if only the walls could talk.)

          So Izzy just kept her mouth shut and played the part of her father's puppet. She watched as her father ripped apart her mother's confidence. She watched as her parents attended galas and events they orchestrated for the Island Club. She watched as they plastered fake smiles on their faces to play their part as the perfect Windsors with perfect lives. She watched it all in silence, secretly hating her life but still wishing she could be the quick-curl Barbie doll she pretended to be.

          Even after her mother's death, the lies and facades didn't stop. If anything, they only exemplified. Izzy still played the part her father had crafted for her. There had been a few missteps where Izzy let herself step out of her cookie-cutter life, but for the most part, Izzy was . . . quote-on-quote perfect. And that day, she would have to try extra hard to ignore the anger coursing through her veins and pretend to be the plastic Barbie she was assigned to be. Because it was Midsummers and her father would have extra eyes on her, looking for the slightest mistake to report on.

          If it were any other day, Izzy would have stayed inside, especially since her hand was bruised from punching Rafe in the face. But, and she couldn't stress this enough, it was Midsummers, an event where a bunch of rich people got together and celebrated how wealthy they were. It was typically hosted by her father for the Island Club, but William Windsor wouldn't be there that year, so Izzy would probably have to hand out some awards to the stuck-up rich people she called acquaintances. That all meant that Izzy had to be perfect. So she woke up early that day and spent the whole morning getting ready.

          It was a little after noon when Izzy finally finished getting ready and parked her car outside the Country Club where the event was being held. She had concealed the bruises on her hand so it wouldn't get back to her father that she had yet again punched someone in the face. And she had perfected her makeup so no acne scars or pimples or undereye bags would make an appearance. She had to say (and not to sound conceited, but come on) she looked fucking amazing. She was pretty, she knew that. She only hoped she looked good enough for everyone else.

          As Izzy walked into the Country Club building, she stopped and glanced in a mirror to check her appearance. She was wearing a gold silk dress that had a low-cut neckline and a slit up the thigh paired with gold heels. Her neck was adorned with a diamond choker, and long diamond earrings hung from her ears. And her hair. Small white flowers were woven into her blonde hair, resting on the top of her head, which gave an angelic feel to her attire. She briefly smiled at her appearance, feeling confident enough to walk further into the building where she found the Camerons.