𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓, p. parker

i. so it goes...

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ── sᴏ ɪᴛ ɢᴏᴇs...

               THE ELEVEN YEAR OLD turned back to the gathered guests, parents and friends, blue eyes landing on her mother's stern face with her arms folded over her chest, blonde hair in a tight ban as she gripped her phone with her right hand, waiting ─ anticipating ─ for a call that would give her an excuse to leave.

Next to her stood Frankie's older brother who had put the event in his calendar months prior, making sure to send his professors a letter to excuse him as he had to go home. Hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, white shirt covering his chest, he looked out of place yet a smile quickly overtook his face as he saw his little sister peering at him from the stage, raising his hand to give her a little wave.

Frankie didn't miss the way her mother scowled at his action to which Stephen ignored. Frankie smiled back though a little strained. She was young but she wasn't stupid. She knew Stephen had practically dragged their mother into the school's stadium to attend her stupid science fair.

The truth was, Stephen always went out of his way for his little sister, like traveling back and forth from campus to their penthouse condominium just to help her with homework or convince their mother to attend her school events despite the fact that she never attended his. He often did things like that as if he could hide the fact that their mother didn't care with sheer will and stubbornness.

And yet, despite her brother's devotion, Frankie craved her mother's validation. Wasn't that why she kept inviting her to these things? Why she study night after night, believing she'll only be worth the Great Melissa Strange's attention if she had the perfect grades, the perfect manners, the perfect appearances. As if she'll only be worthy of her mother's affection if she's the perfect daughter.

"And now for the best science project in the under thirteen division." The announcer called for everyone's attention, making Frankie stand a little straighter. "For third place, Gwen Stacey!"

Frankie clapped accordingly, seeing her blonde friend happily skip forward, receiving the bronze plaque the announcer gave her before stepping on the third platform as she looked back at Frankie, smiling in happiness.

Frankie returned the smile, albeit nervously as she awaited the announcer's next words. She turned back to her mother who sat straighter, eyes boring into Frankie's in a challenge. Can you do better or are you just like everybody else?

"And with a very very close call with an outstanding final score of 9.7 out of ten, the second place goes to..." Frankie turned back to the grinning man, heart thundering against her ribcage, hoping against everything that it isn't her name he says next. "Francesca Strange!"

The eleven year old felt her body sag a little as she stared at her shoes for a moment, catching her lower lip between her teeth as tears pooled in her eyes. A curtain of hair fell over the side of her face, hiding her tearful eyes as she slowly walked over to the front of the stage, hands balled to a fist as the judge congratulated her.

Frankie took her trophy, stepping over to the second platform as Gwen frowned at her prominent lack of energy.

She turned back to the audience, seeing her brother on his feet as he clapped, occasionally cheering on her name, but her attention was on her mother who stood up, patted her dress carefully before walking away and out of the stadium, not even bothering to look back at her daughter.

No, it doesn't matter how brilliant she is or how presentable she looks. It doesn't matter that she performed a complicated experiment at the mere age of eleven. Anyone can become second place. She's just like everyone else after all.