It's OK to be a Flippant Princess

I will not fail. I must not fail. I won’t. I mustn’t. I chanted this mantra for the thousandth time. Yes, for the thousandth time. Oh, why? It was so obvious, wasn’t it? Because it just wouldn’t work wonders! Gah! I balled my clammy hands into fists, and shut my eyes forcefully, trying futilely to placate the extreme frustration and exasperation inside me. I took a shaky breath. Okay, easy, chill. I could do this. Yes.

I reopened my eyes way too exuberantly and suddenly and my trainer, who was just a few feet before me, jumped back a little. She looked a little startled. I gave her a reassuring smile and grabbed the pile of books in her hands a little too aggressively. Tightening my grip on the books, I lifted them steadily, but halted my progress when they were right above my head. I inhaled sharply, fear of failure surging wildly through me. No, I could do this. Tentatively, I placed the pile of books onto my head. Again. Instinctively, I held my breath to achieve equilibrium. Yes, yes, steady…My trainer, Mrs. Meade, was silent before me. She was holding her breath too, I guess, nervous if I’d pass this challenge. This stupid challenge.

I swallowed dryly, and the books suddenly lost their balance. No no no…. I tilted my head instantly and…..the books fell from my head together. The successive thuds pierced through the still silence in the room. My heart clenched tightly, the pang of disappointment indescribably excruciating. I stared at the void vacantly. I had trained ( or more accurate, tortured ) myself all day long, just to feel the torment of failures over and over again. Yeah, welcome to my life, my should-be-playing-but-responsibilities-still-come-first life.

“Princess?” Mrs. Meade studied me.

Dropping my head into my hands, I sank to the floor, devastated.

“Hey, easy there.” she knelt down and pulled my hands away. Blinking away the welled tears, I gazed up at her bleakly. She offered me her oh-so-nanny-like smile. I sighed. I really should keep trying, I shouldn’t fail her. Ohh, what would father and mother do to her when I still couldn’t master this thing? It wasn’t her fault, it was my fault. It used to be a basic training for toddler princess, and …. huh, here I was --- a 14-year-old princess stuck in this walk-in training. Actually, I’d only turn 14 this midnight and – Ugh, the ball. I sighed again as the reminder alarm inside my head blared loudly. Double ugh.



“Tick tock. Five hours till your birthday ball, Princess.” Mrs. Meade pulled me away from my reverie. My heart sank further at her words. “Umm…hey, don’t get me wrong. What I’m trying to say is…five hours till havoc.” she muttered. What?

I quirked my eyebrow, and stared at her quizzically.

She smiled wryly, and answered my unspoken question. “Have fun. No one should look like this on their birthdays.” Oh.

Slowly, she sat down across from me, that nostalgic smile never leaving her face. I inched closer, curious about what she really wanted to say. It was totally un-Mrs.Meade.

“Don’t waste your life…living someone else’s life.” she whispered, her gray eyes intense. Whoa? Wait, wait, wait. Don’t tell me she was trying to say –

“You don’t even wanna be a princess, do ya?” I gaped at her, stunned. “I mean, princess princess. The….proper type, you know.” She floundered for the right words helplessly. I quirked my eyebrow further.

“It’s not…wrong, to be flippant sometimes. I mean, just be…yourself, and…live the life you want.” she stated cautiously, afraid that I’d get her wrong, I think. She gazed at me with concern, gauging my reaction. And of course, I still failed to find my voice.

“You’re still young. Play and enjoy life while you still can.” Her voice was thick with emotion, with….nostalgia. What? With that, she stood up groggily and started to head for the door.

“Thanks.” I managed to squeak appreciatively. She replied me with her gracious smile before closing the door quietly behind her.

Totally bemused and lost, I sprawled onto the floor, my mind stretching in every possible direction. I closed my eyes, trying to process her words.

Living someone else’s life. Well, it was obvious that I’ve never wanted to be a princess. A regal, full-time serious princess. I snorted at that thought.

A flippant princess. Flippant? Hmm…playful, she meant. Which normal teenager wouldn’t be flippant? But then, that flippancy of mine was always well masked. It was one of those stupid to-be-a-princess rules. I sighed, drained.

Enjoy life. Uh-huh. I didn’t even have true friends or normal friendship. Why again? Oh, because I was a princess. Ugh! If only – hold on a sec….what if… I wasn’t a princess?

I sat up abruptly, an idiotic grin plastered across my face. An inspiration had hit me unexpectedly. Ohh….this was gonna be so much fun! Real fun.

***********





I donned the cerulean mask, and half of my face was veiled. Perfect. I glanced down at my own attire --- a cowgirl suit. The dark brown overall was a little faded, but it wasn’t like I give a damn about it. I smoothed down the suit and gave it a final check. I grinned triumphantly. Sweet.

I pushed past the massive double doors excitedly, and strode into the opulent ballroom. Instantly, convivial chatters filled my ears. The music in the background was soothing and soul-caressing. The void inside me was immediately filled with colourful emotions. I closed my eyes, welcoming the waves of music. I feel so…alive.

A gasp from behind snapped me out of my music-bathing. Before I could turn around and find the source of that disembodied voice, two teeny-tiny hands wrapped themselves around mine tightly.

“Cowgirl? Cowgirl!” an out-of-nowhere little boy about five jumped up and down in front of me, squeezing and swinging my hand around. He giggled impishly. He looked so excited. He was wearing a fitting tuxedo, but it was obvious that his tie was too tight. His parents were nowhere to be seen.

“Hey there, I wonder what name could ever fit this charming little boy, hmm?” I bent down and ruffled his unruly copper hair, mirroring his impish grin.

He flashed me his shy boyish smile and answered, “Ethan.”, his tone breezy. I giggled at his coyness. Who in their right minds wouldn’t adore this child?

A dramatic gasp escaped his mouth again. His cobalt blue eyes were suddenly alighted with extreme excitement and his mouth was in an O shape, his initial coyness vanished. He seemed to be hit by a sudden realization, or…idea, I guess. He squeezed my hand again, and gazed up at me, elated.

“Ethan shows cowgirl something. Music. Really cooool.” He tightened his grip on my hands, and tugged me forward weakly. He was trying to lead me somewhere. OK. Now what was this mercurial boy up to? I shrugged and let him lead me. He was practically stumbling all the way.

“Ta…da.”, he pointed to a long dining table. It was empty if not for the row of wine glasses. Wait….I smirked. I knew this game. Each of the glasses was filled with different depths of liquid. They were in an ascending order. Ethan was already brandishing a teaspoon beside me. Where did he get it?

He gazed up at me with his big cobalt blue eyes again. “Ethan can play. Nice music.” He waddled forward and stood before the row of glasses. He lifted the teaspoon, paused, then pouted innocently. His forehead was scrunched up into a frown. He seemed to have forgotten how to play. Then, almost instantly, his eyebrows shot up and his face denoted a light-bulb moment, and that boyish smile was back again. Tentatively, he clinked the glasses randomly, and a pristine, heart-clenching melody floated into the air, filling the void inside me once more. I shook my head unbelievably, marveling at this lovable child, that idiotic grin of mine creeping back again.

He finished his extravaganza with a last dramatic flourish and clink, then lifted the teaspoon in the air, triumphant. I clapped in marvel and enthusiasm, and he flashed me that coy smile again.

“Cowgirl wants to play? Ethan can teach.” He beamed up at me expectantly. That look….who wouldn’t thaw for it? Plus, who am I to defy this adorable child?

I bent down, gave him my wry smile and ruffled his soft copper hair again. If only I didn’t have any priorities. And…things could get really ugly if my parents found out about this---me at the ball in a cowgirl suit. Besides, I couldn’t just go missing, could I? But this child….hurting his feelings would be the last thing I wanted to do. I stood up higher, frowning at my own uncertainty. This was MY birthday ball. Oh, and it wasn’t wrong to be a flippant princess sometimes, right? Okay, I’ve got this. I shook my head dismissively, and turned my attention back to the child before me. I couldn’t help but mirrored his impish grin back.

“Enlighten cowgirl.”