Emmeline back in the day

This is just a random, choppy scene of the og Emmeline around the time she first appeared in the box. Man, they grow up so fast :')

“Honey, come here, your lipstick is smearing.”
She licks her finger and I roll my eyes, forcing myself to sit still as she fixes my face. I can smell her saliva as she clears the smudge with delicate fingers. I crinkle my nose.
“It’s just going to fade during the dinner,” I remind her, but it does no good.
She ignores the jab and tilts her head, studying my face and fixing all flaws humanly fixable without plastic surgery. Those flaws will be erased when I turn eighteen.
Annoyed, I reverse the game and study her back.
We share the same, golden waves. Only hers are fizzing, and more white than gold. She does not have laugh lines -I doubt she has ever stayed satisfied for more than a day in her life- but she does have frown lines. She stands close enough to me that I can see them peeking through the many layers of anti-aging making up piled on her face.
She once was beautiful, but as she reminds me every day- beauty fades, so make use of what you have while you can.
I can’t help but to wonder, did she make the most of hers?
My eyes linger along her frown lines and I realize, no, she didn’t. So now she’s mooching off of mine. She knows no shame.
Her blue eyes narrow and meet my gray for a moment. I narrow mine back, skeptical.
“Do you remember your lines?” She fixes the arch in brows with a powered brush that tickles my face.
“Yes.” I try to keep the edge out of my voice, but I can’t. I don’t want to do this again, but just one more night together, and he’ll sign me. She promised.
“Good…” She pats down my curls, suddenly unable to hold my gaze. She struggles to word something and I shift my weight.
I know what she’s going to say. I’d rather it be left unsaid.
“When dinner ends…” Her eyes flit up to mine, careful and precise.
I swallow hard and look away, my grip tightening on the cell phone and fake ID I hold. The sharp corners of the worn card bite into my palm, but I don’t care.
“I know.” I wrap my arms around my midsection. “There is no such thing as the word no.”
There, I saved her the trouble of saying it. Though frankly I don’t believe she deserves that luxury. Not with what she’s asking me to do. Why should she be allowed to act as if this was normal, or okay? This is underhanded, and I’m worth more than this. …Right?
Her hand tentatively moves up to cup my cheek. Her skin is soft, no callus marring the surface. “You be a good girl, and play your part right. He’ll give you the lead for sure then.”
A lump of anger rolls through me, settling as a bump in my throat. I don’t know what to say back, and all pleases for her to call this off just catch in the bump that seems to grow larger with each passing second. So I just nod back, and then step back to break away.
She drops her hand.
“Don’t worry, Mother, I’ll make you proud.” I walk out the door.