"Her mask fell to the ground, shattering into pieces that could never hope to be fixed."

The din of the audience could be heard from behind the curtains, the noise somehow managed to fill Magenta with dread. Oh how long ago did the days where she would feel nothing but excitement and adrenaline at the thought of greeting the crowd feel? It was quite sad, that something that once gave her such joy could now only be met with reluctance. With each passing day, it only seemed to become more difficult to slip into her 'idol mask'. It was all for the sake of her fans, the general public, she left so much behind in order to achieve this 'dream', to become a star.

Ah, but that wasn't really the true substance behind her dream, was it?

Whilst she did want to become an idol in her youth it wasn't because she longed for fame and fortune, no, it was because Magenta wanted to spread a message to the world! Midveil was, unfortunately, full of corruption...many years of traveling have taught her that time and time again. It was disheartening to see the darker sides of 'humanity'; the hierarchies, ostracism... judgments and stereotypes galore. There were many Midveilers out there who faced severe oppression, and the strudel always felt it unfair, she wanted the world to change. When it came to singing, Magenta had talent alright. Her voice, light and airy, could send an audience into an uproar with its cutesy flair. If that many Midveilers took interest in her...then surely they would listen if she tried to portray a message, right? So Magenta, with a stone solid determination, began writing all her songs from scratch, songs about acceptance and love - towards others and themselves. She believed so strongly that this would work, that other Midveilers would begin to pick up on the heartfelt words in her music and change their views on things.

It didn't exactly work as she thought though.

Her popularity soared throughout the years, yet her messages she so desperately tried to convey hardly seemed to reach the hearts of those she preached to. Midveilers around the world would talk about her quite frequently, saying things such as "Magenta is so cute!" or "man her songs are a bop", stuff that felt meaningless and empty to the poor idol. Still, she refused to give up and began to push harder at conveying what she believed in. Slowly but surely, however, she came to the realization that her fans truly didn't know HER, or wanted to pay any heed to her words. To them, she was just their idol...that's all. A source of entertainment, a figure of ESCAPISM from the very world Magenta had always been trying to open their eyes to. This revelation struck the strudel hard, and the flames of her singing passion began to diminish, fading to small, pathetic embers. She couldn't just leave her career though, even if she was no longer deriving any enjoyment from it her fans still were, and she owed that to them at least, right? Her smiles and cheer became a mask she wore on her face; Magenta 'the idol' began to replace Magenta 'the strudel'. Her 'real' self was buried deep within her subconscious with barely any room to breath. There was no need for her anymore, she was obsolete, never desired in the first place. The crowd wanted their idol.

Their 'idol' was all she had to give them.

It was so very painful though to continue such a charade, she felt like a fraud, didn't even recognize her own face in the mirror anymore. Who was this strange strudel smiling back at her in her reflection? Her face was charming, all cheer and merriment...her eyes, however, were blank - as if something within them perished. Nobody noticed though, nobody was none the wiser to this situation! Magenta surely couldn't bring her problems to her friends, idols didn't HAVE any problems, and that's what made them so desirable to the public! All her remaining friendships began to dwindle because Magenta remained stuck in her idol persona, and when someone tried to break past it she would efficiently push them away until she was all alone. That's just how it had to be, the mask was her saving grace anymore, melded against the flesh of her face.

Permanent.

Or so she'd keep telling herself, but everything wore down with the passage of time, and her metaphorical mask was no exception to this. Cracks slowly began to form along its facade, small in nature, but those things sure have a way of adding up over time, don't they? If the mask broke...everything would end, and there would be nothing left for Magenta. She already lost so much, her friends she left behind in GelatoDrop, her dream she long since lost sight of, if she lost her idol facade then she'd fall into complete darkness.

Never to recover.

"Magenta?"

A soft, familiar voice whisked the nervous strudel out of her thoughts, and she quickly put on her signature beam of a smile as she faced her ex-idolmate and best friend, Tira. Tira was, well, one of the only strudels Magenta could bear to be around these days, in small doses that was. It was more than apparent that the cream-colored strudel was worried over Magenta's odd behavior, which only seemed to get more erratic and concerning in recent days, but she'd never press too much since doing so made the strudel visibly uncomfortable, which Magenta highly appreciated. It must have hurt Tira quite a bit when Magenta announced she would be performing solo from now on, after all...she and Tira had been a duo since the very beginning of their careers, and Magenta never quite explained WHY she broke things off. Tira continued to send her her undivided support though, which just made the strudel feel all the worse about it. Her reasoning for it was, more or less, to keep Tira 'safe', to protect her from this rut Magenta had thrown herself into. The last thing she wanted was to drag her closest friend down with her, but the price she paid for it was an obvious strain on their once pristine friendship.

That's just how it had to be! (That seemed to be her excuse for everything nowadays, huh?)

"Magenta!"

"Sorry, Tira, haha! Just got a lil case of the stage anxieties, y'know, happens to even the oldest of professionals~" Magenta spoke in a sweet, sing-song voice that only very attuned ears could decipher the fakeness of.

Tira was indeed very attuned but said nothing of it...although her starry eyes said enough for the both of them. "Hehe, I understand! You were zoning out pretty hardcore so I thought I'd wake you up a bit! You only have an hour till you go up there, after all, I can't believe all the seats were sold out so far in advance, you're really something special, Magenta!"

"Aww, Tira, you're just too kind, I'm flattered~" Magenta giggled, but deep inside Tira's words felt like an arrow to her heart. Special? As if...

"I also wanted to thank you for inviting me to watch this show backstage...it really means a lot to me that I can be here to cheer you on!" Tira's smile was so kind and genuine that Magenta had to look away, unable to properly bear it.

"This show has taken many months of preparation, it's my biggest one this year! It would...feel wrong not to have my greatest friend here with me, you know?" Truth be told, Magenta wasn't quite sure why she had invited Tira. Truly it was a spur of the moment decision to send out a messenger peepling when she had, but...she was glad her ex-partner decided to heed the invitation and showed up, and that feeling was definitely not fake.

"!" Tira seemed genuinely shocked at Magenta's statement for a moment, mouth agape and eyes wide, before she tackled the strudel in a sudden but strongly gripped embrace. "I'm glad, I'm very very glad, Magenta!!" She sniffled, and the pink strudel, after recovering from the shock of the sudden contact, slowly returned the hug. It had been a while, hadn't it, since she had contact with someone like this in a warm and loving fashion. It felt nice, but at the same time...hurt, it hurt so much Magenta almost felt compelled to cry, so she had to pull herself away lest her mask slip.

"W-well, umm, I'm gonna head into my dressing room real quick, need to get situated into my costume and all that, y'know?" Magenta laughed, it felt forced and weak which only irritated her beneath the mask. "Say, a lot of the crew members brought in refreshments and snacks, they're situated on a table a bit away, why don't you go and help yourself, Tira?"

The other strudel frowned slightly, probably taking notice at how antsy Magenta seemed to take off...she really was astute when it came to reading her, after all, they HAD been the best of friends for such a long while. However, the frown only lasted for a split second before Tira clasped her paws together, absolutely beaming at the prospect of some tasty treats. "Sounds lovely, I think I'll go do just that! Holler for me if you need anything, like if you get stuck trying to put on your costume, tee-hee!"

Magenta pouted. "That only happened one time, Tira!"

"I know I know, I'll never let it go though, it was just so funny~"

The pink idol let out an amused snort, before saying goodbye and parting ways with her old friend. The performance was really only an hour away, huh? One short, minuscule hour between her and that mass of Midveilers...all their eyes bearing into her with their unwavering expectations. Like a doll, she was to sing and dance in a pristine fashion, no room for error...broken dolls often got discarded after all, wouldn't want that now would we? The thought of it caused a frenzy of butterflies to erupt in Magenta's stomach, so viciously in nature that she almost found herself gagging with anxiety. No, no no...she had to keep herself together, the show must go on as they say.

As she neared her dressing room the strudel swore she caught a familiar sight from the corner of her eye, which made her falter in her movements. Curiously, she called out, "somebody here?" To which she heard a slight "eep" in response before a slightly smaller than average strudel emerged from behind a set of props wearing an adorably sheepish expression on her countenance. Magenta blinked in surprise, the trespasser being someone she certainly didn't expect to see here. "Skyla?" She asked, puzzled.

The strudel named Skyla flashed her a bright smile as she stood up straight. "Yup yup, it's me~ Are you surprised to see me~?"

"Uh, a lil bit, yeah..." Magenta returned Skyla's almost blinding smile with one of her own, perfectly polished ones. The reason it was so odd to see Skyla here was that the strudel was another idol herself, one that had skyrocketed in popularity over the recent months. The audience seemed positively blown away by her dance and magic-archery routine; she was simply a sight to behold on stage, so dazzling and graceful, even Magenta found herself awed by the younger strudel's skill. She hadn't a jealous bone in her body for Skyla's popularity though, in some way it was actually relieving as it took a bit of the pressure off of herself. Quite funny how fans would claim they'd "only ever be loyal to you" but then quickly jump ship when the next new and hip thing came around, good riddance, really. She had met Skyla on two other instances, and the cutesy strudel had been nothing but sunshine and rainbows, an absolute joy to be around. Shouldn't she be busy with her own practices though? She claimed to be one of Magenta's biggest fans, that she was her inspo, which gave the strudel a rather conflicted feeling. Was Skyla sneaking backstage just to catch a glimpse of her inspiration before the grand performance started? Ugh...there was nothing worthwhile to see here, Skyla, thank you regardless. "It's a delightful surprise nonetheless! But, why're you sneaking around? If you had just asked I would have happily granted you permission to stay back here!"

"Ah, well..." the pastel-colored strudel twiddled her thumbs, almost shyly, before murmuring, "the truth is...I wanted to talk to you in private real quick before you go on stage, would that be too much trouble?"

There was no way Magenta could say no to the puppy-dog expression Skyla shot at her, so with a weary chuckle, she responded, "well of course it wouldn't! Let's chat in my dressing room, shall we? That's the quietest area here!"

"Oh goodie!" Skyla cheered, eagerly following after Magenta as the strudel led her into the dressing room, closing the door and locking it behind her to make sure nobody else could bother them. Not that she expected anyone to but, y'know.

"So what's up?" Magenta asked as she ambled over to the rack of dresses and costumes, searching for the specific one she had selected for tonight's performance, "it's sad to say but I can't chat for TOO long, I need to get changed and apply my makeup!"

She was met with silence.

"Skyla?" She asked, turning to face the other strudel and immediately feeling her body stiffen as she took a look at the expression the other girl was wearing. The cutesy, innocently sweet smile Skyla typically wore was gone, as if it never existed in the first place, replaced with a particularly nasty scowl accompanied by crossed arms. Magenta felt dumbfounded at this sudden change in demeanor, yet a part of her wasn't all as shocked as her expression may have portrayed. All idols wore a mask of some sort, it's how they survived in the industry, but Magenta would have never imagined this to be Skyla's true appearance. It was a bit frightening, in a sense, to see someone who she considered to be so sweet smirking so lecherously at her.

"Magenta Magenta..." Skyla chuckled, darkly, shaking her head as she stepped over towards the strudel. "It's a big night for you, huh? You have to, once again, get up on that stage and appease thousands of fans just dying to see your performance!"

Magenta remained quiet, not really sure how to react at this display of Skyla's two-faced nature, her body was tense as if she felt threatened somehow.

"But...your heart is just not into this anymore, is it?" Skyla smirked upon seeing the strudel flinch at her comment, she got her just where she wanted her. "I've noticed, throughout your performances, you've really been losing your luster, haven't you? Your fans may be blindsided to it...as of now, that it, but how long do you really think you can keep this up, Magenta?"

"W-what's up with you, Skyla?" Magenta stuttered, finally managing to speak with a nervous smile, "why're you acting so hostile all of a sudden?"

"Tch, even now you keep trying to act so polite and smile...but that smile, it's twitching a lil, isn't it? Magenta, did you ever really believe I was truly a fan of yours?" The small strudel let out a nasty bark of a laugh, as if such a notion was inconceivable. "As if! I've hated you from the moment I first heard your name...all that junk about trying to "make a difference" and what not...say, how's that been going for you, hmm?"

At this point Magenta was silent, no longer able to hold up her smile. Her eyes were wide, a bead of sweat rolling down her face. Truthfully, she wanted to scream at this strudel, tell her to shut up and leave, but there was no way she could actually make a scene like that, right? What would it do to her reputation? She could only grin and bear this onslaught of painful words, and Skyla KNEW she wasn't about to go running off and tattling, not on the night of her big show.

"Cat got your tongue, Magenta? Did you finally realize what a joke that all was? Hehe, you wanted so badly to make a difference...I paid close attention, y'know, remember the first time we met and I interviewed you? That gave me a lot of juicy insight~ but the thing is, Magenta, this world really doesn't WANT to be changed, you see? The public...wants to live life in ignorant bliss, nobody wants to own up to any of life's issues!"

"Y-you..." Magenta's throat felt dry, mind hazy as though she were about to pass out. Yes, that dream she once harbored, the one about making a difference in this sad, cruel world...she shoved it into the deepest part of her subconscious, alongside her 'true' self in an eternal banishment, but...Skyla was throwing it back in her face...and it was returning with quite a vengeance, much more powerful and potent in nature. She was so pathetic....pathetic pathetic, Skyla's words held so much truth and it made Magenta realize something; Magenta inwardly criticized others for distracting themselves from reality, but...hasn't it been all she was doing too? Tears were forming in her eyes, this was no good, she couldn't hold them back!

"Aww, gonna cry, Magenta? The truth hurts, doesn't it? I'm almost done...you need to get dressed after all~ I just have one question for you...why are you still here?" Skyla's smirk was so big Magenta felt like it'd swallow her somehow, consuming all her sights and surroundings. "You're so sad, it's a disgrace, really...why do you keep going on in this state? Why not leave this sort of thing to those who actually deserve it?"

"W-why.....w-why....." her breathing was coming out at a more rapid rate, and Magenta found herself feebly clutching at the costume rack in order to regain some semblance of her balance. The ground beneath her feet felt like it was giving out, it felt as if...she was on a whole other plane of existence altogether. She just didn't know what to say, what to do, her mask felt like it was beginning to crumble at a rapid rate and she was using every ounce of her energy to desperately keep it together.

Keep your cool, Magenta.

Just keep smiling.

You're fine, everything's fine.

What the hell is wrong with you?

Wretched, miserable thing.

"Well, I ought to be going, Magenta, you seem like you're not gonna provide anything meaningful to this conversation, not that I ever expected much from you." Skyla snorted, before reverting back to her cutesy smile, giving the other idol a mocking wink. "Break a leg out there, sweetie~"

"Wh-wait....w-wait!" Magenta took in a few breaths of air, trying to stifle the falling tears. But her words fell on deaf, uncaring ears as Skyla took her leave, slipping off backstage.

The silence that filled the spaces around her was suffocating, and Magenta, wobbly on her legs, quickly approached the door, slamming it shut to ensure no onlookers noticed her in such a state. She couldn't be seen by anyone like this! She had to calm down, and fast, there was only - oh god - 20 minutes till she was due on stage!? She couldn't let the audience wait, that just wouldn't do!! They came here for a show and expected her to deliver, it was...it was Magenta's only purpose in her miserable existence!

After regaining some of her composure - barely - the strudel quickly threw on her dress, hastily applying makeup in a hope that she at least looked SOMEWHAT presentable. She looked at herself in the mirror, frowning at what she saw staring back. So disheveled, so messy...she looked like the disgrace she was on the inside! Oh but she didn't really have any time to spare, she was due on stage soon, too soon. No time to obsess, she'd just have to hope nobody noticed! As long as she wore her iconic smile and sang with all her might she'd be fine, she could chalk her appearance up as her "strong emotions towards her fans taking over", or some other bullshit, that could work, they'd love to hear sap like that, wouldn't they?

After she decided she looked fine enough and, taking a few breaths to ensure she was calm, Magenta stepped out of her dressing room, doing her best to remain inconspicuous amongst the stage crew. Things were gonna be fine, all she had to do was get into position on the stage without anyone else botheri-

"Magenta!"

Tira's cheery voice caused the strudel to flinch, and mentally curse her bad luck. Of course, she'd try to give Magenta one last pep talk before she went live, at the moment her conscience couldn't feel guilty towards how annoyed she felt. If anyone would be able to sense the emotions Magenta was desperately trying to withhold at the moment it'd be Tira, and if she pointed it out...well, Magenta wasn't sure she could hold them back, it was immensely difficult already; panic clawing her on the inside like the sharp talons of an eagle. Oh god, just thinking about it was making it worse, she sorely hoped it wasn't showing on her face right now...

"...Magenta?" Tira spoke again, voice sounding more tentative than before. Shit, she DID notice. Time to retreat.

"Look, Tira, I-I gotta go, I've got less than 5 minutes, there's no time to chat so I'll see you afterward, alright?" The strudel immediately felt guilty at the forlorn look that cascaded Tira's face, her tone carried an edge to it that surprised even Magenta herself, and just put an even bigger damper on her overall mood. Hastily, she pushed her way past her old friend, making her way to her spot on stage.

"You all ready, Magenta?" A crew member asked, holding the rope to open the curtain. That rope...ah, the key to the barrier between herself and those Midveilers on the other side, her "fans".

"Why are you still here? Why do you keep going on in this state?" Skyla's questions were echoing through her mind, no matter how much she tried to relax and rid herself of them she just couldn't...they were stuck.

"Yo, uh, you good?" The member asked, frowning with concern. "You look a lil pale."

"I'm fine!" Magenta snapped, maybe too harshly. Oh god, she had to pull it together! She never lost her grip before...her emotions were nothing but insignificant; she always just pushed them aside...'idol' Magenta had no need for such things, those all belonged to the 'real' Magenta, and she was insignificant too. But...she wanted out...

God, did she want it so bad, and it was quite an inconvenience anymore to keep her contained.

"Alright alright..." the crew member muttered, annoyed. "Curtain opening in five...four...three...two..."

Each number in the countdown felt like an eternity to the idol, she felt like she was breaking into a cold sweat with how much dread she felt at the upcoming "one".

Why was she here?

Why WAS she here?

No, she could do this, goddammit!

"One!" The member called, before he began to pull the rope with all his might, allowing the curtains to break open, breaking apart much too quickly, revealing the hell that awaited beyond.

Magenta was hit by the cold auditorium air like a punch to the gut, she almost felt the need to physically reel back from it. That wasn't the worst thing though, no...all at once, thousands of eyes settled on her before the mass of Midveilers erupted into loud, cacophonic cheers that seemed to shake the stage, the idol almost lost her balance. She used to feel such exhilaration at these sights and sounds, such passion.

Where did it go?

It was truly all gone, nothing remained.

She had been singing for years, yet...all this time it had developed into something empty and hollow. She had stopped writing her own songs a long time ago...they were all just empty, sugary fluff now. Meaningless, just shit the fans wanted and expected to hear.

Magenta hated it, the real her that was.

God, she seriously hated what she had become.

The crowd was beginning to quiet down now, falling into bewildered murmurs. What was wrong with them?

Oh, she wasn't moving, was she? She was standing frozen on stage, like a deer in headlights. Heart hammering, why wasn't she moving?? Speak, Magenta, do something!

"Give them what they want already!" Her idol self sneered.

"I can't do it anymore!" Her real self roared back, defiantly.

Why was she here?

Why was she doing this?

She...she COULDN'T do this!

But, it was too late.

Her mask...it was crumbling, she couldn't hold it.

"H-hey everyone....how are you all doing!?" Magenta spoke, trying her best to smile as she spoke into the microphone she grabbed off the podium, squeezing it with a death grip. The smile felt forced, more than ever before, and it must have looked it too because the audience was staring at her with weird expressions on their faces, confusion practically flying off them in a cloud of sickening miasma. Oh god oh god...

Keep going, keep going!

"Who's....r-ready....for some music?" She asked lamely, voice quivering.

She was met with relative silence, as if her fans weren't sure if they SHOULD respond to this pathetic, unexpected display.

Fuck them.

"O-ok...well, here I...here I go..."

She held the microphone to her lips, taking deep breaths into it as she gazed out at the crowd. It was dizzying, maddening almost. She hated the way they looked at her, LOATHED it.

Why was she here?

Fuck, WHY!?

Magenta opened her mouth...

And screamed.

The audience reacted with a jolt, eyes wide with, well, maybe it was fear. The backstage members seemed just as shocked, frozen in place, unable to do anything but watch. They could have closed the curtains, but in a way Magenta supposed even they had that sickening curiosity that made them want to see what'd happen next.

They were all the same, huh?

This world truly was cruel.

Magenta gave up so much...

She missed her home! The friends she left behind whom she never once contacted again...

She betrayed and hurt so many people to get to where she was, all because she believed her talent and passion could actually change hearts.

It was her own heart that changed.

Her mask fell to the ground, shattering into pieces that could never hope to be fixed.

Agonizing, white flashes of pain tore through the girl as she screamed and roared into the mic, it was as if her emotional turmoil was so powerful that it was crossing the threshold into physical pain. Her body felt like it was on fire, burning from the inside. Tears fell down her cheeks, gross and messy in nature, paired with a fountain of snot from her nose. The paws clutching the mic were burning most of all, especially at the tips. It felt as if...as if...

Oh...oh god...

Claws!

Magenta dropped the mic, causing a high-pitch ringing noise to reverberate throughout the auditorium. The other Midveilers were too transfixed on the scene before them to react though, wide-eyed with complete terror and a disgusting sense of fascination.

Claws were tearing out from Magenta's paws, big, clunky, hot-pink claws coated in her own blood. It was painful, so painful, she couldn't help but sob audibly.

It couldn't be...

Her body was beginning to feel hotter too...ah, her fur! Her fur was beginning to grow out at a rapid pace, transforming into something like a cape, puffing out from around her neck and billowing down all the way to her feet. All this extra fur felt heavy to her, increasing the sense of panic. Frantically, she tugged at this new fur cape, only for her new long, clunky claws to get tangled in it. Startled she yanked her paw back, wincing as she tore out some fur along with it.

What was this?

What...what...

"SHE'S A TRICKSTER!" some audience member screamed out. Although the voice felt far away, faded, like it was coming from another planet or something.

Trick....ster?

Trickster!?

The pain was beginning to ebb to a dull throb, and Magenta felt a bit of reality and clarity return to her as she examined her claws, eyes going almost comically wide as she realized that, indeed, these WERE trickster claws. Such a thing seemed like an impossibility, completely absurd and unheard of...but it was undeniable what had just happened.

Magenta underwent a trickster transformation. Live, in front of countless Midveilers.

She was done.

A deep, tense silence filled the auditorium as the calamity began to settle. Magenta whipped her head to and fro, looking at both the audience and the backstage members who had crept into sight. They all looked...

Repulsed.

Judgmental.

Oh, but maybe it was just her own perception warping the reality, it didn't matter. Magenta the idol was dead, slaughtered in the transformation. Now...the Magenta who stood before the crowd was a nobody.

A living image of her disgusting emotions, forever on a physical display.

There was nothing left for her here.

She wept, pitifully, as she took a flying leap off the stage. The audience, startled, quickly ran out of the way as she tore past them, out into the streets of the town the venue was located at. The passerby Midveilers halted in their tracks, regarding the new trickster with mortified expressions. Wasn't that Magenta? The idol?? That's what they were surely thinking.

Nope, not anymore!!

Magenta fled past them, through the outskirts of the city. She swore she heard voices calling out for her, she paid no heed. The raw adrenaline of the events had her moving faster than ever before, further and further away from any sign of civilization.

She had to be alone now.

Could never show her face again.

Time passed by as she ran and ran. Hours? Minutes? There was no way of knowing, but it certainly felt like an eternity before the girl finally began to slow down, huffing deeply as the adrenaline began to fade and was replaced with utter exhaustion. Briefly, she took a glance at her surroundings. Some kind of forest that seemed empty enough and that's all that really mattered at the moment. Knowing she (hopefully) wouldn't be bothered for a long time, Magenta allowed herself to collapse into the ground, sobbing all the while. This was her home now, the only place she could actually belong in this world.

Truthfully, she knew something like this was bound to happen sooner or later...Skyla hit her where it hurt but...even without her words...Magenta already KNEW those things.

She just didn't expect...today to be the day she lost it all.

She gave up her home.

Her friends.

To be a star.

But in the process...she lost her dream, her touch with reality...

And now...

She lost herself as well.

Filled with despair, Magenta buried her face in her arms and cried and cried until she couldn't anymore.

This...was only just the beginning to her end.