Missing BMC || Drabble
Every time she fell asleep, she would see the Black Moon Clan. These days, she wasn't sure if she would consider them dreams or nightmares. Some nights, there was just so much death. Too much. Some nights, the dreams were so beautiful with promises of family only for her to realize that none of it existed each time she woke up.
This BMC plagued her mind more and more these days. She would pass makeup stores and think of the Ayakashi Sisters. She would see someone with brightly colored hair only to be disappointed that it was some person following the latest idol trends. She even felt it whenever she wasn't thinking about them. It was like her body knew, too restless since no one pestered her to exhaustion.
She felt numb. No one for her to pine after. No one for her to annoy. Absolutely no one. Her heart was missing a whole family that simply did not exist in this lifetime.
But it didn't keep her from hoping. She still kept an eye out for hair colors that stood out. She still kept an ear out on the train hoping that she would hear one of their voices by chance. She even overwhelmed herself in anything jasmine-scented to make herself stand out more.
"Oh, I'm sorry, but they have discontinued that perfume."
Esme's right eye twitched as she tried to keep a neutral face. The only reason she was speaking to this staff member was because she couldn't find her usual jasmine-scented perfume. It was the closest to pure jasmine that she could find.
"Discontinued?" Esme asked as if she suddenly didn't understand Japanese.
"Um, yes, discontinued. They no longer make it," the store clerk shuffled on her feet uncomfortably. "I'm sorry. We have another line-"
"No," the model's voice was cold and harsh as she glared at the employee. She could feel the anger building in her. She could strangle this worker for their incompetence. Esme was a regular. The least they could have done was call to inform her that it would be discontinued. Not even a single email.
Taking a deep breath, she clenched her fists. She would not throw a tantrum here. She could not. She had an image to uphold, and society did not take kindly to loud, emotional outbursts.
"I see," she spoke evenly. The staff member attempted to apologize again, but Esme held up a hand, not bothering to look apologetic with how rude she was being before walking away.
When she got home that evening, she stared at herself in her vanity willing herself not to cry. A perfume would not be the reason she wakes up with puffy eyes in the morning. She refused. She held the bottle of perfume in one hand as she took of her makeup with the other. The bottle was less than a fourth of the way full. She would need to find a replacement soon. She didn't know how, but it would need to be soon. The realization was enough for a single tear to roll down her cheek. She didn’t allow anymore.
