Childhood Memories

“Oh, I’m sorry dear, but I’m afraid you can’t go out to play with the other buns today either.” Tutting, the demon caretaker reads a thermometer with a frown. Patting Velveteen’s head, they tuck them up in bed again. “You’re to stay in bed until that fever goes down. You’ll have rice porridge later, but I’ll bring it to you.”

Sighing, Velveteen is used to this. Reluctantly lying back against a cushion, they close their eyes and pretend to sleep while their demon caretaker fusses about, making sure they’re warm. Eventually, they leave, closing the door and Velveteen reaches under their bed to pull out a fashion magazine. One of the other buns dropped it in for them, feeling sympathy for them lying there all day with nothing to do. 

The glossy pages are smooth under their paws. They touch each page almost reverently, staring at the beautiful dolls showing off their new designer outfits on the page. Velveteen’s eyes widen, their tail flicking with interest as they stare at a doll with a similar colouring to them. They’re so beautiful. That beautiful blue hair, their composed look… They stare into the camera like they’re the only one in the room, even though they’re strutting down a runway. Their horns are big and beautiful, their confidence radiating off the page so much so Velveteen can almost feel it.

Then they remember. They’re not quite there yet. Sighing, they reach up and touch their head. No horns yet. Everyone else is getting older. Velveteen will be left behind at this rate. They have to get stronger, and getting stronger means staying in bed and eating all the nutritious healthy food that their demon caretaker gives them. It’s just so hard sometimes. 

Hearing the others play makes them sad. Velveteen turns the page. That blue haired model is still there. Their body is perfect, the sheer glittering fabric clinging to their body as they effortlessly strut down the runway, their ears flowing behind them without a care in the world. Velveteen wants that. Velveteen wants to be like that. 

Touching the model’s glossy paper ears, Velveteen reaches up and feels their own small ears. They have beautiful patterns on their ears, and perhaps one day Velveteen will be strong enough to walk without being winded. Oh, how they long to walk so confidently like that! They study the model’s expressions, the composed confident gaze. They try to copy them, though perhaps it looks silly coming from a bun. 

Turning the page, the model is gone. Another one walks in their place. A red one, this time. Their dress is bigger, more show-offy with layers of ruffles that flow from the waist rather than cling to the body. Velveteen can’t see their figure from under the dress but they can tell that they must be in perfect health. They all must be in perfect health. It’s unfair. Velveteen coughs underneath their mask, and has to sit back again.

One day they will be just as beautiful. 

The next page is the same. The fashion designer talks about the choices for their clothes. Velveteen learns new words, pret a porter, made to measure, haute couture. There is no way that these models could wear pret a porter! They are too beautiful for that. Velveteen studies the dolls, their beautiful bodies, and the clothes that cling to them. They’re dressed in beautiful top designer haute couture. Velveteen learns the name of their designer, and wants to read more about them.

One day they will be just as beautiful as them, and they’ll be able to wear the finest haute couture.

They just have to get better for that. 

Coughing again, they are undeterred by this. They will get better! They will have to. And they will grow their own beautiful horns and grow big. They wonder what their doll form will look like. Like one of these beautiful models. They touch the glossy page again, the coolness lingering on their paws. 

What else can they do? They pull out another magazine, opening up the pages. Ah, it’s that same designer! They’re truly magnificent, creating beautiful clothes that perfectly show off each doll’s form. They’re perfect. They even create clothing for their bun forms, but Velveteen much prefers the dolls. When Velveteen matures and becomes a doll, they will never take their bun form again! 

When. Whenever that may be. Hopefully soon. They just have to get better.

Velveteen stares longingly at the page, the perfect models and their perfect stature staring back at him. They can feel the confidence radiating off of them. They pout their lips and give long looks at the camera, captured in the magazine. One day, Velveteen will be on the cover just like them. They try to copy their expressions one day.

All of these setbacks are just chances to practise. That’s what they keep saying. Turning the page, they continue to study the dolls carefully. 

One day, Velveteen will look like that. One hundred percent. They’re sure of it.

—-

“So? What do you think?” Peter asks, smiling warmly at Velveteen. Upon looking at the sketch of a bun form with their ear patterns, Velveteen drums their fingers against the table, their tail flickering with displeasure.

“No,” they say after a moment, quite firmly. “Though your ideas never fail to impress me, I have to say that I would not enjoy taking a bun form even to model your beautiful creations.”

“No bother.” Peter chuckles, drawing a line through some writing on a page. “I’ll think of something else. You seemed deep in thought there. What’s on your mind?”
“Remembered something from before.” Velveteen refuses to say anymore about it. “I’ll find a bun from the agency. They’ll be able to model bun clothing better than me.”

“But you’re my muse, not them!” Peter says playfully. “No worries. Let’s get back to doll form clothes.”