The backrooms of Euphorika bustle and are crowded with new recruits to inevitably become Mates. They idly chatter and undress, to then hauntingly parade new identities clad in black. Ms. 1010 has a line forming out from her door which is composed of negatively colored dominos. The nervous energy is palpable and stems out between the room’s inhabitants like neurons firing in the brain. Madeline is one of the toy soldiers, lined up neatly waiting for her chance to speak with Ms. 1010. She bites a loose piece of skin on the corner of her bottom lip as she rubs her thumb and index fingernails together. The outfit she received yesterday itches and pulls at her. She went out in the street and did what she had to: that's the problem. Madeline holds her arms crossed tightly and as she gets closer to Ms.1010 her heart pounds harder, faster, louder. 

The line soon dwindles away and Madeline lingers in the doorway. She hesitates for a moment and almost hides behind the door frame, exposing only half of herself. Ms. 1010 shuffles through some boxes, reorganizing their contents. She swivels around on her stool and looks up at Madeline. No words need to be said; silence is often the best carrier of thoughts, like light in a vacuum. They share a glance amongst the quiet, and tears begin to form. “Oh honey, close the door,” Ms. 1010 says. Madeline contains herself just enough until the light from the outside is completely shut out with a click. She collapses on the cold floor. She weeps. Ms. 1010 shuffles off of her stool and hugs Madeline. She holds her and rocks slowly back and forth. She closes her eyes as Madeline leans her heavy head forward onto Ms.1010’s shoulder. 

After the crying reaches enough of a halt Ms.1010 runs her fingers down Madeline's wet cheek. “You can take that off.” Madeline slowly removes her mask, exposing her bald head. Ms.1010 asks, “What's your name sweetheart?” as she rubs her hands slowly up and down Madeline's arms. “It's Madeline. Madeline June,” she answers through a slightly clogged nose. “I'm Francine, Francine Weathers, it's nice to meet you,” Ms.1010 says, taking off her mask. Her brunette and messy pixie cut is revealed. “I'd ask what the matter is -” Francine stands up and reaches over a pile of boxes to grab some tissues. “-but I'm not stupid. Been here a while if you couldn't tell.” She gently hands the tissues to Madeline and then sits criss crossed on the floor, simply listening. “Go ahead, say what you're feeling.”

“I just, I hate myself for liking it.” The hum of the air conditioning speaks for a moment. She uses a scrunched tissue to run underneath her nose. “I never really was considered pretty. Back home I used to put stolen makeup on and look at myself in the mirror in random bathrooms. I would just stare and get lost in my own eyes. I never really cared too much about the “being pretty, or beautiful,” aspect of things after a while. As I've gotten older I just want to be loved and to be in love. But honestly I've realized I'm just not meant for anything like that. None of it is any good out there; no one is any good.” Francine remains quiet. “I've tried to talk to men but I accepted that I wasn't anyone special since I was younger. I never really tried to date because I knew no one would like me. As I got older I became more bold for a while but the world ramped up so fast; machines do everything now. It's like everyone just looks past me, even more so than before. There's no point to dress up even for ourselves anymore, there's no point to try, so none of us really do.” 

“It's like we're all a homogeneous blob of rejects. You know, one guy back home I was talking to swore up and down that he liked women, right, but he said the “parts” that come with us are disgusting. He was disgusted by me, by our bodies, Francine. I was just hoping to come here and feel something, as if someone loved me, or wanted to even see me in the first place, like I wasn't some sort of eyesore.” Francine stares intently, subtly guiding the conversation with her silence. “My client was terrible to me, by the way. I was on the way here, actually. I ended up walking up all the way past Fairwall and I got no one. After a while of walking I got scared by the darkness. The entire time I kept wanting to talk myself out of everything but I kept holding on. As I hit Fairwall and Jove I ended up getting a surge of panic so I started running back. After a while I got tired and was sitting on the curb. A guy you'd never expect eventually drove by in a super fancy car. I was nervous but honestly I was even more so excited.” 

“I tried the best I could to initiate things but no one here really teaches you these things. Ms.2000 was nice to me and all, but she kind of ran away once I hit the streets; said she had to go home immediately. It just would've been nice to have someone there, at least to make sure I was ok when I got back.” Madeline holds herself tightly in a ball and rests her head on her knees. “He explicitly wanted me to sit there and be quiet. He had a picture of one of his employees up on the dashboard screen that he stared at the entire time. I was ok enough with it but after a while I started to fight for his attention. I tried doing certain things that would get him to see me, so when he looked at me once, I felt butterflies. It was like I couldn't believe it was all actually happening, or that someone actually chose me. That someone was actually engaging with me in a way I've never felt before. God, what's wrong with me?” She says as her voice cracks. 

Francine takes a moment to breathe and responds after. “NOTHING is wrong with you. Look at me.” Madeline slowly rises her head. “There's nothing wrong with you, I mean that. You're beautiful, wonderful and so gorgeous.” Madeline shakes her head no. “You are. We all are. Everyone on this planet is. It doesn't matter who you are, what you do, or where you come from. You're human, and uniquely you.” Francine shuffles her weight as her point is emphasized. “Listen to me, this world we live in just takes advantage of us, Madeline. They make us feel terrible, and then people like The Lion use that against us. You, nor any of those girls out there deserve to be treated so terribly. It's not your fault you felt that way either: how else could someone in your shoes feel?” She takes a moment to gather her thoughts and continues. “Believe me, I've been there, but none of us can use it as an excuse to fuel our fires. Just because we hurt doesn't mean we should settle for destroying ourselves. We can't keep doing this.”

“Do you have family, Madeline?” Madeline shakes her head yes. “A little sister.” “Would you want her here, would you want her to have done what you did? Would you want her to feel the way you do?” “N-no.” “Then be her role model, show her that in a world like this we don't have to be the downtrodden. We have a choice, even when it seems like we have only one.” “I can't just leave, Francine, where will I go? I can't go back home. I can't just magically like myself more.” Francine surges with inspiration. “Why not? Who's to say we can't make a stand in the world, even in the face of adversity? Loving yourself is not some incorrigible sin. You deserve everything you want, Madeline. Look. I want you to take these.” Francine looks at the screen inside her jacket. She presses it a few times and points at Madeline. “I just gave you enough Ralomi to get out of here and be comfy for a while.”

“Francine, I-” “Yes, yes you can. There's nothing wrong with you, and you don't have to live like this. Don't let people like The Lion destroy your spirit. He doesn't care about you like you think he does and no one like him deserves your sympathy. You're going to take that money and take a cab to wherever your heart wants to take you. You can build a new life, even in the abyss. You can change the world just by being you, Madeline. You have a spark that deserves to change the world, and most of all be free within you. Learn to love yourself.” Madeline grows a tiny smile as she fights the incoming tears. “Francine, I don't know how to thank you.” “You can thank me by getting yourself out of here.”