Beauty and the Beholder

"Hey there, beautiful," one man murmured to me as I passed by. "Love the hair and dress, sexy!"

I gave him a serene smile but I continued walking. The groceries along with a couple of boxes from suitors were not getting any lighter and I had to get home before dark.

"Excuse me!" a feminine voice from behind me called out, making me wince.

I knew they weren't calling out for somebody else. It was always me they were looking for. It was practically the story of my life but no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, everything and everyone treated me the same way they've been treating me my whole life.

"Please, stop! Just a moment of your time!" she called out.

I could hear that she was already panting. Poor girl. Sighing, I reluctantly slowed down before stopping.

The click of her heels became louder, echoing in the chambers of my head. When she finally reached me, it took everything in me not to roll my eyes when I recognized her type.

Paparazzi. Media vultures. Gossip mongers.

They were all the same. And I was so sick and tired of facing them day by day. However, I didn't raise myself to be rude so I gave her a polite smile.

The woman blushed before she looked up at me and shyly lifted her cellphone, the voice recording app already open.

"I'm Karen Thompson. If I may," she asked, "can I please ask five minutes of your time to conduct an interview? I'm from Beauty and Looks magazine and we'd be happy to compensate you for your time if you want."

She looked me up and down, a hot and intense look shimmered in her eyes. I knew that this one would gladly jump into bed with me if I asked but, alas, I was already sick and tired of the games.

I just wanted to get this over with and go home so I gave her a nod.

"Five minutes," I said in a deep, chocolatey voice that had the woman stagger in place, almost swooning.

"Y-yes, of course," she replied breathlessly, lifting her phone closer to me. "So tell me, how do you manage to maintain a fit and muscly physique?"

I smiled at the question before shrugging, "Nothing much. I just--"

She fluttered her eyelashes and coos, cutting off my response, "Oooh, a natural borne hunk, huh? Is your blond hair dyed or natural?"

Not again, I thought with despair.

Sighing, I just answered, "Natural."

"And your eyes are a beautiful color. I've never seen anyone with eyes that blue before. Is that also natural?" She bit her lip, staring deeply into my eyes as she tried so hard to act alluring.

"Natural."

Despite my short and curt answers, the woman kept asking questions about my physical features.

According to her, my perfect blond hair and blue eyes seemed to have the talent to catch the light at the perfect angle to make me look like a fallen angel. However, my hard, angular face shape contrasted most perfectly with my angelic features which made me look manlier. Hotter, even.

She went on and on about my looks and how perfect I was. As she blabbed about, she became more and more forward. If given the chance, she would have pounced on me right there and then, in the middle of a busy street.

Which was why when five minutes passed, I quickly made my excuses and walked around her, brisk walking away as fast as I could.

A shame, really, because I was kind of looking forward to discussing my regimen to keep fit.

That was the fifth paparazzi/reporter I met today and it wasn't even 5 pm yet. Every one of them was the same. They were all too focused on my looks.

I heard the clicks of the woman's heels behind me. It was faint but it wasn't fading either so I picked up my pace. When I saw I was about to pass by an alley, I didn't think twice about taking the sharp turn.

I haven't taken a full ten steps yet when a hand suddenly fisted my shirt, turned me then slammed me on the alley wall, knocking the air out of me.

I felt a cold metal rest on the skin below my chin and I freeze, not wanting for the weapon to cut me.

"Alright, bitch, listen up," a guttural voice growled.

The man holding me was a little on the short side, wide, and pudgy...and he smells. I wrinkled my nose at that.

It doesn't take a genius to know that this guy was a criminal. No, not a criminal but more like a spider, preying on those who wander into their webbed lair. Only they weren't as honorable with living as their eight-legged counterpart.

He wasn't looking at me, his eyes were trained on the entrance of the alleyway, which explains the knife. If he was looking, well...

"Don't you fucking yell," he kept on growling, "Give me your groceries and your wallet or I'll--"

And that was it.

He turned his face and he saw me.

With wide eyes and mouth open, he let go of my shirt. His hands began to shake, dropping the knife on the alleyway floor

"M-Miss... Oh lordie, I-I'm so sorry," he whispered, staring at me reverently. "Here, let me help you pick up your things. I'll walk you home if you want."

He bent down and picked up the groceries and gifts I dropped when he grabbed me, taking me by surprise. Once he straightened, I gave him a forced smile.

"Thank you," I say politely, my voice was small yet musical.

To my surprise, the man's eyes began to fill up with tears. His free hand reached up towards me as if wanting to touch my cheek but then dropped it.

"You...you look just like my Margaret," he sniffed. "My beautiful, beautiful daughter. You even have her green eyes and short, curly brown hair. I would have thought she was you if I didn't know...if I didn't see that she died right before my eyes."

Despite the bad day I was having, my heart clenched for the poor man.

Bending down, I pulled out two gifts from the plastic bag. I believed they were food packages, gifts from two of my co-workers who love to eat.

I offered them to him and he just stared at them with wide eyes.

"Take them," I urged. "I may not be your daughter but since I look like her, you can think of it as a sign that she doesn't want you to continue living a life like this."

He sniffed again, his tears were falling freely but he nodded and took the gifts from me. I didn't mind. I had plenty of food in stock, thanks to the daily gifts I've been receiving.

The man insisted he escorts me home. I had to make him promise that he'd turn his life around before accepting his aid.

Once we arrived at my building, we parted ways amicably. I watched him go with a smile on my face, confident he'd start turning over a new leaf, and he'd be bouncing on his feet in no time.

These kinds of days were rare.

Most of the people I met perceive me of their perception of beauty.

Most men would see me as a sexy woman with big breasts and a tiny waist. Some look at me and saw a deliciously curvy one.

Most of them prefer the classic beauty of blonde hair and blue eyes which was also a common feature I found when other women describe me.

In the end, though, the ultimate beauty would always depend on an individual's preference. Sometimes, how I look depended on their emotions as well. Just like that guy from the alleyway.

To him, ultimate beauty wasn't a sexy blond bombshell or a David-statue chiseled body with killer looks.

To him, the ultimate beauty was his daughter.

And those kinds of beauty projected on me were very rare but I treasured each and every encounter.

However, that still didn't make me entirely happy.

When all was said and done, I would always be someone else. I could never and would never be an individual in their eyes. I would always be a shadow to their own perception of beauty.

I sighed forlornly and was about to enter my building when I remembered something. I have to feed the stray cats in the park nearby.

Hefting my plastic bags with me, I hobbled towards the park and stopped in my tracks.

Someone was still in the park, which was weird. Normally, at dusk, everyone was already safely ensconced in the comforts of their homes with their family and loved ones.

So I didn't get why a little boy was standing in the middle of a circle of cats.

Squinting, I saw that he was throwing something at them from a fanny pack. As I got near him, I discovered he was throwing food at them. Feeding them in my stead.

I sighed with relief and was about to go and thank him when I noticed something about the boy. It was kind of dark from this side since the lamp post was behind us, and I couldn't clearly see his features.

However, I saw enough.

Tilting my head curiously, I confirmed that I didn't recognize him. I've been living in these parts all my life and I knew anyone who was anyone in my area.

This boy was a stranger to me.

Suddenly, he looked up at me, making me flinch in surprise.

He just stood there, though. His face forming into a frown against the dark, but he didn't let up feeding the cats.

"H-hey," I greeted awkwardly.

I cleared my throat and stood beside him, opting for a more formal and less shaky conversation.

"Thanks for feeding the strays. I almost forgot about it." I gave him a smile and waited for the widening eyes and the gaping mouth.

I wondered what this kid's version of beauty would be. I've met other kids before and boys at this age usually called me their mothers since, apparently, the most beautiful person for them were their moms.

It was so cute and adorable but still a bit disheartening on my part.

However, as I waited for any reaction from him, the boy kept quiet, his face was still impassive. I frowned when he was still staring up at me. It was becoming to unnerve me.

So, nipping the awkwardness in the bud, I squatted down so we're at eye level.

"Tell me straight, kid. What do I look like to you? What is your version of beauty? Let's hear it so we can get it out of the way and we can finally talk about the cats."

I knew I was sounding so rude but I've had a bad day. Save for that one guy, today was just full of disappointments. It was the same thing that happened the day before that and the day before that.

Sometimes I just wanted to end it all and be done with it.

"You like feeding the cats," he suddenly said in a soft voice.

I blinked. "Well, yes."

"You also smuggle them sometimes inside your apartment without the management knowing. If they did, you'd just charm them so they let you off easy. You didn't want to fool them but you are a nice person who just wants to give the cats a home."

My mouth dropped open. The kid was probably living in my building too. Most likely a new arrival or a family who just moved in.

I was about to beg for the boy's silence when the rest of his words sunk in.

No...could...could it be?

"You love to read books and rather read than watching a movie adaptation of it," the boy continued, "you also love spaghetti and a sucker for the paranormal. You know that you are a manipulative person but you can't help it and try to downplay it. During fights, you mostly avoid hurting people and try to compromise, meeting each other half-way. You love to write and draw but sometimes you are just too lazy to do anything yet being idle drives you insane." 

He threw another handful of food for the cats.

"You love to sing Karaoke. You even admit to yourself you're not a singer but you sing anyway and enjoy every minute of it. You can't cook to save your life. Family is very important to you but you also need space for yourself and your thoughts. You wish to find someone you love and someone who loves you no matter what. When you laugh a genuine laugh, it's no-holds-barred boisterous but very contagious. You just want to have a good time and enjoy life but stress out easily."

He closed his fanny pack and shifted in place, turning to me. My eyes widened when I saw his pure white eyes. No pupils.

"I can't see what beauty is like," he tapped his temples, gesturing to his unseeing eyes before he smiled. "But I can see more than I should. I don't need to see you to know what beauty is. In fact, you don't need eyes to see real beauty."

He lifted his hand and cupped my cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear that was falling.

I didn't even know I was crying but I didn't dare move. I wanted...no, need. I need to hear this because...I never thought I would be able to hear this in my lifetime.

The boy whispered, "But I know you are beautiful. To me, beauty consists of joy, laughter, kindness, and love. And you have all of those and more. And that makes your beauty unique. That makes you...you."

I couldn't help it. I burst into tears and pulled the little boy close, hugging him while I sobbed tears of relief and joy.

Finally...

My attitude, my talents, my skills, my flaws, and more were the ones that set me apart from the rest. And I should have known the truth because even though I may look like someone else, no one can replicate my individuality.

My individuality. My uniqueness. Those qualities made me beautiful in my own way.

My beauty wasn't defined by how I looked like.

Finally...

I wasn't someone's dream girl or dream guy. I wasn't someone's family member or loved one. I wasn't someone else because of how I look.

I was just...me.

Finally... 

I'm me.