Work Header

Alice's weakness.

Work Text:


That’s how Alice felt at the moment.

Today was just another day in the studio, another day of recording, another day of screaming into a microphone, another day of listening to scratchy synthetic melodies, electronic drums and chiptune-like noises. She quite like those melodies actually, even if most of them sounded more like computerized digital vomit than anything else. They brought a sense of familiarity and it made her feel safe.
But it also made her feel uneasy.

She had a love-hate relationship with those recording : on one hand, she love to sing and scream as loud as she can (even if, sometimes she does regret it afterward) but on the other hand, she hate how Ethan stares her down.
She hated their «friendship», if you can even call it that. She’s pretty sure Ethan doesn’t even consider her as a friend, but a tool for his music, a pleasure thing when he’s horny or bored… a sex-object.

Let’s not forget the daily remarks and insults, how Ethan minimise her everytime he gets the chance to. How everyday she feel more ashame of herself for being so weak.
And the worse thing is it’s not just Ethan who’s doing it,… well, at least, not the physical abuse. (Ethan had the privilege to be the only one to do that).
Alice closed her eyes as she took a drag of her cigarette. She could feel the hardness of the ground even after sitting on two mattresses.
Alice hated those mattresses, not only for theirs horrible clashing colors (neon orange and dark olive) but also for disgusting memories that she would have rather choose to forget.
Recollections of Ethan, pinning her down, muttering insults at her, comparing her to a little child, to a baby… That without him, «she would be nothing». Slapping was usual when he wasn’t too mad, otherwise, he would have use his fists. Feeling his mouth on hers, while she tries her best to close her lips as tight as possible, one hand roaming on her frail body, the other clamping on her skinny wrists…. If she retaliate, he would add another bruise to her already mistreated body.

If you ask Alice, she’ll say that the first times were the most horrific, but after a while, you get used to (even though it’s still hurt)…
When Ethan comes into the recording room or the studio alone, Alice knows what he wants and lay on the mattresses. If they’re not here, she just lay on the ground.
Ethan doesn’t need to say anything anymore, Alice understands.

She took another drag and felt her lungs being filled with smoke. She looked down to see a half empty alcohol bottle next to her foot. Alice wanted to drink so bad, just to forget for a little while and feel warm, even if it last a minute.
But she fought her drinking urges, she can’t let herself get drunk, especially not in the studio. Last time she drank, she woke up half naked with sore muscles. She suspected Ethan, but he would never look at her or pay attention when she attempted to talk to him.
He would never make eye contact when he was abusing her either.

The studio was really calm. A sense of creepy uneasiness washed over her, the calm made her nervous.

She looked at her reflection in the vintage mirror that was placed in front of her, across the room.

She looked her messy black hair. She looked at her face. Too much makeup for Ethan's taste, heavy thick eyeliner, mascara and pink lipstick.
She looked at her pale arms, a lot of blue, purple and yellow all over them.
Alice didn’t cover them, she never cover them. It’s not like anyone in this studio ignored them, they never intervened or said anything when Ethan slap or abuse her.
Alice put her hand on her arm, brushing her bruises She can feel sadness creeping up.

Everyone knows.

Alice can feel the tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

But no one cares.

Tears rolling down, Alice cries alone in the coldness of the studio, muffling her whimpers with her other hand.
Deep down, she’s praying to God, even if she doesn’t really believe in him, she prays for better days.