Chapter 62: Show Me Your Bitch Face

The first thing Isa did when she woke up most mornings was to put on her face, even if she wasn’t going out and about. It wasn’t something she did out of shame or insecurity. Generally speaking, she liked the way she looked and having control over her appearance was a key part of that. By starting her day choosing what she would wear and how she would make up her face, Isa chose how she planned for that day to go. By the time she was done, she was awake and ready to take on the day.

It had been a more important ritual when she stayed at inns for a few weeks here and there, or the one disastrous time she’d spent a season at the same insula. Back then, not looking her best was a great way for shitty people to comment on her appearance in ways that were detrimental to their health and Isa’s general sense of peace. Now that she lived among friends, it wasn’t as important but it was still something she did.

Blotting her lips on a sponge, Isa stared into her reflection, blowing herself a kiss. The deep reddish brown lip paint matched her complexion and kept attention on her face. Her eyes were lined with black, ending in short wings that framed dark eyes. Long, silky black hair flowed freely over her shoulders. Today, she chose to wear bright blue, a nice contrast to her dark features. Giving herself a real smile she grabbed her purse and headed out for the door, ready to enjoy her day off.

“Wow, Isa, looking good!” Jenna called from the couch. “Got somewhere special to be?”

“Yeah,” said Isa, not breaking her stride. “Away from here.” She went out through the garden gates. It wasn’t that she didn’t like being at the Garden. It was beautiful, it was comfortable, it was safe. The problem was how easy it became to just spend all her time there and forget about the outside world. That was a good way of going soft and losing your edge. Orchrisus wasn’t kind to people who forgot how harsh and dangerous it could be.

“Isa!” a voice called out from behind Isa before she was out of the courtyard. She stopped near an idle guard and looked over her shoulder. Lucy jogged to her, stopping just short. She looked nervous, though that wasn’t out of the ordinary. She learned first hand how bad things could get, and she hadn’t been quite the same since.

“Lucy,” Isa greeted neutrally. Aside from Samantha, Lucy was the only other person she went out of her way to be kinder to. Especially after what happened to her. “Did you need something?”

“Sort of,” Lucy said. Then she stood there and said nothing, just looking at the older woman until Isa’s patience twitched. She looked like she was fighting over what to say, or maybe that she didn’t know how to say it.

“Well, what is it?” Isa asked, not unkindly but with a pointed look towards the arches that led out of the neighborhood. She had places to be.

“I…How do you do it?” Lucy blurted out. “How did you get so tough and unflappable?”

Hah, the girl thought Isa was unflappable. If only she knew. Isa couldn’t help but smile, shaking her head. “It’s about boundaries and standards. You need to know what your worth is and be unwilling to let anyone treat you as less than.” Then, louder to the courtyard guard leaning up against a villa nearby, she barked, “If you keep undressing us with your eyes, we’re going to have to charge.”

Immediately the guard straightened up and looked away. Lucy gestured at him and said, “Like that. How do you just do that without being afraid?”

Isa wrestled with herself over how to handle this. This was supposed to be their day off, and she fully intended to spend it doing things for her and no one else. One day out of the entire week to not have to be there for another’s wants or needs. That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? On the other hand, even she didn’t have a heart hard enough to just shrug Lucy off entirely.

Sighing, Isa said, “You have some spending money on you?”

“I have some, yeah,” Lucy replied, patting her purse. She probably had less than the rest of them given how spotty her performances had been, but none of them were hurting for shards these days. “Why?”

“Because I have plans today and if you’re going to tag along and talk with me, I’m not paying for everything.”

“Tag along?” Lucy’s eyes lit up. “You want me to come with you?”

“I’d rather that than stand here all day and lecture you. C’mon, before the place gets too crowded.” She turned around and resumed walking. Lucy ran after her until she caught up, falling in step beside her.

They didn’t speak as they walked around the city, and Isa was grateful she didn’t have to tell Lucy off for trying. Things were generally safer during the day, but it was hard to have a serious conversation when pressed in on all sides by a writing mass of bodies all trying to make their way across the city. The place they were going wasn’t too far, and was in fact one of the first places Isa found after scouting the area around her new home.

“Ooh,” Lucy said when she saw the sign on the outside of the building. There were no words, only pictures of hands and feet up on a side. Flashing an excited grin at Isa, they went inside.

Not too much longer after that they found themselves sitting in firm but yielding chairs, feet soaking in hot water while a couple of older women scrubbed their heels with a rough stone. “How did you find this place? I never would’ve thought to do this,” Lucy said.

“Clearly you’ve never had men interested in fucking your feet,” Isa replied, smirking as she reclined in her chair. On the floor, the woman scrubbing slowed down and looked up at her in surprise. “Hey, did I tell you to stop?” She went at it again even harder. That was much better.

“You know, I can’t say that I have,” Lucy admitted, laughing. “This feels really good though.”

“If you want to be more like me,” Isa said, knowing full well that wasn’t necessarily what Lucy meant when she asked how she did it, “you have to learn to be good to yourself. That’s lesson one. If you’re not good and kind to yourself, how can you expect anyone else to be? That means taking care of yourself and treating yourself to nice things because you deserve it.”

Lucy screwed up her face. “Being nicer to myself is going to make me tougher?”

“No,” Isa said, “being nicer to yourself is the first step into not taking shit from other people. Let’s take you for an example. You’re a good kid, but you still seem a lot like a kid. You’re timid, quiet, and your body language screams ‘potential victim’.”

“Oh,” said Lucy, deflating.

“That right there, that’s what I’m talking about,” said Isa. “I tell you something truthful and you immediately shrink and accept it. Anyone who wants to bully you is free to do so.”

The women at their feet put the stones away and instead worked on gripping and squeezing their feet, rubbing out the tension and drawing out an appreciative groan from Isa. Lucy remained quiet for a little while, though it was clear she was enjoying the attention as well. She was deep in thought and Isa was in no hurry for her to reach whatever conclusion she was coming to. It let the dusk-girl close her eyes and enjoy being in the moment.

“How should I have reacted instead?” Lucy finally asked. “I don’t think you’d lie to me, and I asked for your opinion.”

“I don’t know,” Isa said. “How you react is on you, isn’t it? If it was me, I would’ve told you to eat shit or to kiss my ass if you were criticizing me out of nowhere. Maybe you ask for more info if you’re really stuck on it and want to know more. Or you accept it as something to think about, but realize it’s not an attack on you. My opinions of you are my problem, you understand? Not yours. You can be curious what I think but what matters most is what you think. What do you like about yourself, Lucy?”

Gods, if the previous silence was heavy, this one was weighty and lengthy. The women servicing their feet took that time to trim their nails and shape them, and were halfway finished with painting them colors they’d chosen at the start of the session when Lucy finally spoke up again. It was with the same timid, hesitant tone, as if she was afraid she would upset Isa and their day would be ruined.

“I don’t know. I guess I like my eyes. Not too many people around here have blue eyes, and it usually gets me compliments. I like where I am, and all my friends, they --”

“I asked what you liked about you, not the things around you.”

“...And I really like that I don’t start fights for no reason,” Lucy said, heat entering her voice. “Unlike some people.”

Isa opened her eyes, smiling. “Now that’s a little more like it. Stand up for yourself. Doesn’t have to mean you throw a punch or call someone a bitch, but don’t take shit from anyone, not even me.”

“I like the way I look, even with my face being different,” Lucy continued. “I look a little older now. Everything else…I guess it’s mostly things around me. I don’t feel like I know who I am most of the time, but being around other people makes me feel like me. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,’ said Isa, smiling wider now. “I know exactly what you mean. Good or bad, when you’re with other people it reminds you who you are. Could be you’re a person who needs to be around other people. That isn’t me, but it isn’t wrong to be that way. Think about it sometime, Lucy. When you’re with everyone and you feel like yourself, ask yourself who you are and why.”

With their feet and nails dried, they paid the ridiculous fee and went about their day, off to their next stop. Isa had the entire day planned out well in advance, looking forward to being able to take some of her hard earned money and have fun with it, instead of just living to work another day. Lucy coming along was an unexpected development, but the more time they spent together the less Isa minded a change to her plans. It even worked out better when they reached their next stop.

The clothing store wasn’t especially crowded that day, and there was plenty of room for the two to look over a variety of colorful new dresses hanging from the walls from hooks. Isa pulled a yellow and purple one off the wall and held it up in front of her. “What do you think?” she asked Lucy.

Lucy looked and made a face. “I don’t think yellow is your color,” she said, before she flushed and opened her mouth to clarify.

“None of that,” Isa preemptively interrupted. “I asked, you answered. Being direct is good. What color do you see on me?” She gestured to the wall.

Looking around, Lucy chewed on her lip as she thought about it. She bypassed most of the more popular colors and went instead to a colorless dress that was simple, elegant, and even a bit formal in its cut. “What about this?” she said.

Isa took the dress from her, thinking about it. “I don’t tend to wear white often,” she said. “Too easy to get dust on it. If I were to go out on a windy day, it’d be filthy in minutes.”

“Well, what about at the Garden?” Lucy pressed. “I think white would look good on you.”

She frowned, but considered it. Taking another look at the dress and the lack of color, her thoughts strayed towards Quentin and his pale, whitish pink pallor. “I don’t think so,” she said, though she couldn’t quite say why. It would look good on her. Any of these dresses would, naturally, but this one would make her look clean, pure even, in a house of vice. The contrast was delicious, but something about it didn’t feel right.

“Maybe another time,” she said, putting it back on the wall. Isa grabbed a red dress instead. “This is much more my style. Red is powerful. Red is aggressive. Red doesn’t take shit from anyone. Wait here.” Isa took the red dress to the back, where there were tiny rooms to try things on. When she came out again, the red dress was tight on her, especially around the shoulders, and it clung to her in a way that made her feel exposed. The fact that it ended several inches above her knees didn’t help. “What do you think?”

Lucy cocked her head to the side. “You look beautiful!” she said, smiling widely. “You’re right, red’s your color. Doesn’t look like it fits too well though,” she said, gesturing at the top half of the dress.

“That’s normal,” Isa replied. “The seamstress will take my measurements and make adjustments before I take it home.” It occurred to her that maybe Lucy hadn’t had the opportunity to go shopping for good clothes. As far as she knew, she was little better than a street rat, a pretty little gem among all the filth. Well, that just wouldn’t do.

“What about you?” Isa said. “Which one are you picking out?”

Lucy reacted with a start. “Me? I’m not getting any of them. These look expensive, and I haven’t been getting as much. The pedicures took a decent chunk of what I had.”

Isa snapped her fingers and pointed at the wall. Was she going to do this? Yes, she supposed she was. She wasn’t the heartless bitch other people thought of her. She had a soft spot, and Lucy was a decent part of it. “I didn’t ask you if you were getting one, I asked you which one. I’ll get the dress if you get lunch.” She’d seen in Lucy’s purse, there was at least enough for a couple of good meals.

“I…Really? You sure you want to do that?” Lucy asked, pale face reddening further.

“If you don’t pick a dress, I will,” Isa said, smirking. “In fact…” She grabbed another red one off the wall. “Try this one on.”

Lucy took it. “If you’re sure…” she said.

They both disappeared into the back. Isa changed back into the clothes she brought while Lucy tried hers on. A few minutes passed without her reappearance. And then another. Eventually, Isa lost her patience and rapped her knuckles on the door. “Luce?” she called out. “Did you accidentally strangle yourself with the dress? What’s taking so long?”

“I’m not sure I can wear this,” came Lucy’s muffled voice. “This is a bit much. Or not enough, actually.”

“Let’s see it!” Isa banged her fist against the door. After a squeak, Lucy came out.

“I knew it,” said Isa, leering at Lucy. “That dress is perfect for you. You want to be tougher and stronger? Wear this with your head held high and with attitude and you’ll be untouchable.”

Like Isa’s dress, the hem was cut high and even simple motions would offer a flash of what was beneath. It was tight on her thin, small frame, with a plunging neckline that went down to just above her navel. It was silky, with black lace along the edges. Lucy may have been a whore like the rest of them, but she didn’t tend to look like one. She did now. The black and red suited her pale skin and dark hair, making her into a tiny temptress.

“I’m not sure it’s me,” she said, fingering the lace along her chest. “If I’ve been freaking out by grabby men, this might just invite them to grab me more.”

“If they do, scream in their face,” said Isa. “Show them anger, not fear. If you’re angry, you’re not afraid and you’re less of a potential victim. They want easy, pliable targets, not a problem. They’re after dainty flowers they can pluck, not a beautiful but prictly cactus. Show me your best bitch face.”

“What?”

“Your best bitch face,” Isa demanded. “Like this.” She narrowed her eyes at Lucy, lip curling just a hair while she gathered up all of her contempt and scorn to wear like a mask. Lucy shriveled away from it.

“That’s a really good bitch face,” Lucy admitted. “I guess I’ll give it a try.” Lucy’s first attempt was…it was an attempt, at least. She tried to look as angry as Isa did, but she mostly ended up looking cross-eyed.

“No. Try again.”

She did, cycling through a dozen weird expressions that were all too forced, too exaggerated, too weird to be effective. Eventually Isa motioned for her to stop. “Those are all terrible.” An idea struck her. “Godawful, in fact. You didn’t look like a bitch, you looked like a goofy kid making faces at someone. Then I remembered you really are still a child, and I shouldn’t have expected better.”

The look on Lucy’s face was genuine this time. There was hurt there, but it quickly changed to irritation and a shocked, appalled sneer. “Fuck you, I’m not a child!”

“Perfect!” Isa snapped. “There’s your bitch face. Feel it out and save it for later. If anyone gives you shit just give them this look and walk away. You don’t owe anyone anything, certainly not your attention or time.”

Lucy looked embarrassed for a moment, but then she nodded. Her normal, tiny half smile was back for a second before she switched on back to the bitch face, letting out an audible scoff. Isa made the same face back and added to it by rolling her eyes. Lucy burst out into giggles while Isa gave a rare warm and genuine smile. This was the first time in weeks she’d seen Lucy smile without holding some part of herself back. Isa found herself feeling good about it.

“C’mon,” she said. “You’re wearing that dress out and buying me lunch.”