#cosplaying reader

There you were; a vision of mysique yet so familiar.

Ken had decided to watch the sidewalk near the beach; after all, his job was 'Beach' so he considered it his job in the real world too. This world was still so unfamiliar and confusing. Yet at the same time, it was all new and so exciting. Water rolled along the tan sand, stretching for miles into the distance. Lights on the sidewalk had just turned on, as evening crawled into the present. The sand was empty; prints of those who had visited earlier decorated the grains; it was still and calm. Minus one figure at the water's edge.

The orange horizon and lowering sun existed at the end of the waves at your feet, the blends of purples showcasing the incoming night. You sang with your entire heart, not minding the cold ocean; it made you feel alive. It made you feel like you had stepped into film, yet existed in the real world. Your voice was loud, maybe off-key at moments, but to anyone observing…you were happy. You were..Island Princess Barbie. Someone who existed in Barbieland as a heroine in a tale the Barbies would fondly read, and yet you were here: Spinning around, singing.

"I need to know these answers~ I need to find my way~ Seize my tomorrow, learn my yesterday."

Ken just stared as you danced around the sand, the waves rolling over your feet as you skipped. His heart- did he have one?- skipped along with it. You looked like Barbie, not any, but the tales of the love unknown. The white dress around your body, the pink flower tucked against your hair…Ken swallowed slowly.

Was this what they meant: there's a Barbie for every Ken?

This wasn't the Barbie who turned him down after the whole 'I think the patriarchy and horses are neat' incident and the almost societal collapse of Barbieland. He still had some apologies to make to Barbie about that. And to President Barbie. And to Doctor Barbie. And Journalist Barbie. And uh…well he owed a lot more, in general.

He stood still as you smiled and laughed; the horizon made you almost glow and seem like something beyond his mind's comprehension. Sure, Barbieland had songs that sounded eerily similar, but you put all of them to shame. Something inside his chest pounded, like he wanted to run along you, spinning around in the waves, stroking the shores. He was desperate to know…He needed to. Her words only served as a sign.

"Can't tell what's waiting~ Still I need to go… I need to know…"

Ken stumbled down the sand, "Wait! Barbie! Wait for me!" At that moment, you looked over your shoulder, singing before your voice trailed off from the song. You laughed, enjoying this strange yet endearing stranger. Usually, it was children calling after you, not men in black denim with fringes and a cowboy hat running on the sand. You offered a friendly smile regardless, stopping and halting your walk and turning toward the individual who tripped and luckily didn't fall. You couldn't imagine how uncomfortable that outfit would be if sand got in.

Ken stopped a few feet away from you, ignoring the waves rolling over his shoes, and just stared. "Hi." He said to you, waving. You smiled, a corner of your mouth quirking up as you offered a wave back. You giggled as you saw him physically swoon.

"Where have you been? I thought… and now you're here. How did you get here? The same way?"

"By a car..?"

"Sublime!" Ken said, causing you to burst out laughing again. His reactions were so over-the-top, it felt like a dramatic scene and you were suddenly in it with a very expressive actor. "Right. Hi. I'm Ken."

"Just Ken?" You asked, prompting for a last name. He just stared, the smile stuck on his face, which caused you to laugh again. Ken couldn't stop at you; the sunset almost faded behind you gave you a glow that wasn't like what he saw before. The gentle breeze knocked hair strands out of place on your head, and yet he never wanted to spend a day looking away. An Island Princess and a guy with the job Beach? He swore it was more fated than anything else.

"Has anyone told you that you are absolutely sublime, like stunningly so?" Ken said. You reached up and wrapped a strand of hair around a finger. You've gotten a fair share of compliments, but to be told them so forwardly? It felt nice. "I didn't think I'd see a princess here! On the beach!"

"You're being very sweet, Ken." You said before, laughing again as he clutched his chest, bending over. He was acting like his world was imploding, and it warmed your heart. "I hate to cut our conversation short, but unfortunately I do need to leave."

You smiled softly as his delighted expression dropped, showing how much he wanted to continue talking. He stuck out his arm, looking away and whispering disbelief as you gently took it. This was the best day of his life, next to every day he will be getting with you, which will all tie for best day ever.

"You know I never think I told you my name," Ken said, causing you to cough a laugh into your hand. "It's Ken." You nodded in return, doing your best not to laugh anymore. This was probably one of your favorite interactions in a long time, and you had that one girl crying into you in San Diego that one weekend.

You waved at him as you got into a pink car, decorated with stickers on the back windows. Ken couldn't exactly make out what they were, but he simply smiled and waved, watching your car head into the city to end up somewhere. He confidently went to walk away before he stopped, "…Did I get a way to reach them? God, you're stupid, Ken! You acted just like Ken!"

You slowly reached up the back of your head once you got into your apartment, locking the door behind you. As you peeled off the wig you had been wearing, your phone slowly played music that you started to hum along with. You carefully placed the wig on the stand in the bathroom before removing the costume, hanging it on the hanger, and putting it back in the closet among the various other costumes you'd made over the years.

You grabbed a makeup wipe and slowly started to remove all of the products you had on your face. You looked in the mirror, washing your face to prevent breakouts and the dry skin that came with makeup removal. You smiled softly to yourself, thinking of the weird guy who talked to you like you were actually Barbie. It was a wonderful compliment; he must've liked your cosplay a lot. "You really thought I looked like Ro, huh…" You said.

Maybe…you'll run into him again wearing something new.

3

--

 After the event you’d been eagerly awaiting to see the photos that had been taken there. It always gave you a certain thrill to see yourself back in costume, especially when it was one you’d been complimented on by so many people.

 It hadn’t been the first time that you’d dressed as this certain princess character, but you had only a few photos as evidence of wearing it before, despite how well you had looked in it. And truth to be told, the pictures you had weren’t that great quality.

 You would be lying if you’d say that part of you wasn’t hoping for some miraculous fine pictures of yourself. You wanted them to flaunt with on Instagram - and whatever other site and app you owned an account on. You wanted to be able to post something pretty and professional looking. Just like many of your other cosplaying friends, who had the coolest photographs and plenty of followers online.

 You wanted that too.

 People who interacted with you online, who said they admired your work. But your reach was horrible lately and you felt like the photos you had simply weren’t good enough.

 And then, not even a day after the event, the first photos popped up, taken by a professional photographer who had been volunteering at the event. And they were gorgeous. Amazing. Full of action, showing the charitable nature of the event and the love between the entertainers and the children.

 But you weren’t in any of them.

 Your mouth dropped. How was this possible? You knew that you’d been photographed a dozen of times. But as you looked around the charity’s website, you noticed that the photos taken at the photobooth weren’t online yet. And the other photographers still had to upload. Heck, even the one who had already uploaded the cool stuff had said he had only uploaded a small ‘selection’ to give a ‘quick impression’ of the event.

 What stung, however, was that while you weren’t among the photos, Chantal was.

 It just wasn’t fair.

 The picture on your screen was one of the prettiest you’d seen in ages. Chantal was smiling toothily at you in HD quality. And worse, she had uploaded it directly to her Instagram, crushing your dreams. Now everyone was gushing on her feed, telling her how lovely she was to spend her own time and expertise to bring smiles on the faces of these unfortunate children. She was lifted on digital hands, praised by people you didn’t know for being so selfless and kind. It hurt.

 But you knew they were right. Even if you thought Chantal hadn’t been particularly kind to everyone, she had played her part well and she had looked remarkably like the real deal. The kids had loved her and she had loved to make them smile. Why would you feel bitter about that?

 With a sigh, you scrolled one last time down the page. The preview thumbnails all looked colourful. But one in particular caught your eye. You clicked on it, waiting for it to enlarge. And there he was.

 Your heart skipped a beat.

 The clown, with his bright green wig cap, laughing openly while a group of children stood gathered around him, laughing along. It was by far one of the most wonderful images you had ever seen. The joy in this picture was so pure, so genuine, that you understood why the photographer had uploaded it as part of his first selection.

 If a photo could win a price, this was a winner.

 You studied the photo a bit longer, looking at the strange man in his oversized clothes. His make-up was getting smutched, probably by sweat. And there was an odd twinkle in his eyes. But the children, oh, how they laughed along with him. You could see the adoration in their eyes.

 Somehow, your hand had snuck its way up to your chest and was covering your heart. This picture had brought forth a lot of emotions, and you quickly clicked like on it.