The Dream.
The Dream.
“Oh, Heesica!” Hiffany exclaims, hugging her best friend to her as cameras snap pictures of the pretty pair. They are on a dark stage, a large spotlight circling the two, making them the center of attention to a humungous audience below.
This was the moment of truth for them both. Hiffany could practically feel the anxiety ready to burst from her body. Just how many pain-filled, practice-filled, fake-smile-filled months had she worked to get to this moment? As she looked out into the huge crowd, she could make out the faces of many, all anxious to know who would win the title of the next Miss Korea. Heck, she wanted to know, too- the race really was a close call. And she and Heesica were the last two contestants. It was friend against friend, but she was glad her BFF was her opponent in the end. To be honest, Hiffany felt sick, but she smiled prettily for the onlookers.
Heesica blew kisses at the cameramen, looking completely unphased by the gravity of the situation. She even winked, posing here and there and giggling nicely for anyone that whooped in her direction.
Hiffany sighed to herself. Yes, she and her best friend were quite different when it came to stress-handling techniques.
There was a sudden drum roll, and a flashing of multicolored lights all over the grand auditorium. It was time.
“And the winner of Miss Korea… is…” a deep voice announced through the darkness, Wizard-of-Oz style. Hiffany puffed up her chest in preparation and Heesica smiled, trying to suffocate her yawn. How she managed to yawn in such a nerve-wracking time befuddled the younger woman.
The spotlight continued to rest on the two friends, who held each other’s hands now, straining to hear the name of the winner.
“Kim Heesica! Congratulations!”
Heesica screams out joyously, and pulls herself free from Hiffany’s hold. She runs to the front of the stage to the MC that had been with them for the entirety of the Miss Korea event that evening, and says a few things into the mike that Hiffany honestly does not care to hear, but does know makes the audience cheer loudly in response.
The forlorn friend watches as her best friend collects the velvety red sash with the words “MISS KOREA” printed in bold along the front, a bouquet of fresh roses, and that accursed, longed-for crown. The overwhelmed winner begins to cry, covering her mouth with her slender fingers, and tears gently roam down her cheeks to the stage below.
Hiffany is left in the dark, out of the wonderful, warm and welcoming spotlight, alone.
It is only after about 20 minutes or so after the world had begun huffing and puffing over the new Miss Korea that her best friend leaves the limelight and glory to go to Hiffany.
“Heesica!” she exclaims brightly, hugging the teary-eyed winner. “Really, congratulations. I just knew one of us had to win!” she adds with a forced laugh.
Heesica smiles down at her. “Dearest Hiffany,” she begins, sighing as she does so. “If it is a contest between me and anyone I always win. I’m just that fabulous.” She begins to walk- well, more like sashay in pride- away, placing the crown on her hair. At this point, she really does look like a princess.
She turns to Hiffany one last time. “Besides, this Cinderella will always win next to someone as manly-looking as you in that dress, BFF. No offense. Teehee!” she giggles, and it vibrates through the air chillingly.
With sad eyes, Hiffany watches her best friend in the entire world leave her forever- leaving as winner and leaving her, the loser.
She is left to cry alone on stage as cameramen rush up to her to take pictures of her in her time of distress, mumbling things like how her pretty tears will help them sell more papers and magazines.
But Hiffany doesn’t care. Only one thought consumes her mind at that moment.
‘I hate you, Kim Heesica.’