May 4th, 2012, my twelfth birthday, was a memorable day of little girls in silky dresses and puffed up princesses dresses that hadn't quite understood the theme that was planned for 2 weeks straight by an eleven year-old diva. I sat at my table in my mimicked black Givenchy dress that was meant to resemble the one that had been worn by my namesake. But the dress was not the only thing I was wearing as there was a permanent pout etched on my face, blue eyes scanning the venue with distaste. Not one person understood that the theme was Hepburn!

From that day forward, in order to make up for the theme that never was, I vowed to make every day a living nod to the glamorous figure known as Audrey Hepburn. Her image would be mine and her life my memory. From that day forward, I strived to have one moment that was exquisite!

Notable feats had been recorded in my diary in relation to my ritual, all labeled in cyan sticky notes in order for easy finding whenever I wanted to relive the moment.

2012

May 9th (not-so-notable now that I am older however I will keep it in for the memories it has given me):

Today's exquisite moment . . . I jiggled the candy machine's handle until it spat out a blue bubblegum! Audrey - 1, Candy machine - 0

July 4th

Today's exquisite moment had been planned for weeks now, the daddy-daughter camping trip! Mom wasn't too fond about it as it was Independence day and she had planned to watch the parade with us but daddy won that fight in the end!

And the most memorable moment of the day—we saw a bear! We had to leave after spotting it though since daddy was afraid. I wasn't though.

August 17

Miranda's birthday, self-explanatory. Miranda is an exquisite person. I gave one heck of a birthday speech that Miranda swore made her tear-up. People clapped! I felt like I had just put on a show just like Audrey.

September 30

Daddy had errands to run today so mom had me all day. We went shopping and bought some jewelry. Mom looked happy and so was I. Buying jewelry is so Audrey Hepburn....I think? Anyways. Ex-qui-site!

December 25

Christmas. Self-explanatory. Every moment was exquisite. We got a puppy so it makes today extra exquisite! She's a pomeranian, mommy's favorite breed.

2014

January 14

Mom and daddy had to go somewhere today so I was left with Aunt Celia. The legend herself, the woman who gifted me my love for Audrey Hepburn. The whole day was exquisite (read next page for more)

May 4

Mom and Daddy were fighting today so I did what I always do best—I put on a show! During my party, when it came the time for my birthday speech (one of my birthday staples), I decided to sing mom and daddy's wedding song—their first dance, 'My heart will go on' by Celine Dion. They loved it.

I sighed and closed my diary, a 'thump' noise resonating as I closed a chapter of my life. I was bundled up in my blankets that felt more like weights than something meant to comfort me. I scoffed at the thought.

"Something meant to comfort me," I couldn't help but speak aloud into the one-person dorm room. I looked around, my bedroom, filled with items and devices meant to comfort me. My trophies and awards from various hobbies now dead alongside my ambitions.

My eyes landed on the two picture frames, one of my mom and I and one of my dad and I. Both were taken on the day I had moved into the dorms, a twin smile painted on my face perfectly like a script memorized. My lips perked up at that.

"Script memorized," I voiced aloud. "Like an actress."

Washed up wannabe actress

These days of loneliness had me speaking aloud as a way to compensate for the lack of communicating I've been doing. Days had become shorter and the list of things to-do were longer, not enough time for anything else really.

If one important to-do was planned for the day, no other not-so-important to-do was planned for the day or rather, it wasn't allowed to be done. I don't know what exactly to label it but it truly was a dictator with strict rules. This new mindset of mine had cost me my precious ritual of exquisite-ness.

"Exquisite-ness, is that even a word?"

I couldn't remember. So, instead of thinking, I slumped back underneath my covers, grabbed my phone, and did some self-destructive scrolling through social media.

The next day was the same. After classes, I went home, stressed about things to do, spoke aloud, and then spent most of that time scrolling once more.

And the day after was the same as well.

And so was the next.

Until one day, I just couldn't take it anymore.

I sat there above the messy blankets, surrounded by my things that were clumped around my room, my head full but dull, my eyes focused but unfocused, and my ears listening but the world silent.

"Ears listening but the world silent," I sniffled. I wanted to cry but not even tears would come out. Why couldn't I feel anything anymore? Did I really let myself go like that? Could letting yourself go be something exquisite?

"Something ex . . ." My voice trailed off. I wouldn't dare finish that sentence.

Yesterday I had seen something that made me turn my phone off, something that had me taken aback as it was like the truth had slapped me in the face. The most depressing thing about it was that I finally felt something. Not even when I was going through my diary had I felt something.

Derealization

Mom and dad's divorce had been finalized but I knew their divorce wasn't what had triggered it. To be honest, I don't think one thing had triggered it. I had been so caught up making every day exquisite that I had forgotten to take a stop and breathe.

When the fighting had begun I threw myself into drama club, debate club, getting into my dream university. When the dust had settled and everything had finally fallen into place, I had finally gotten what I worked oh-so hard for.

But I was stumped.

What was next? Dad wasn't there to bring me on those spontaneous camping trips he oh-so loved and mom wasn't here to dictate what I liked. My breath hitched in my throat and I had to close my eyes.

"Her image would be mine and her life my memory."

I was a living, breathing, copy of all the people I have encountered. Though some would argue being able to play the part of living-breathing people is a sought-after skill in actresses, in this moment, I felt like a complete liar.

Each moment of every day, that exquisite feeling and uniqueness I had built up was all a lie, a play put on to satiate my hunger for the extraordinary. I thought I felt closer to god but all I was doing was building a ladder of different faces to touch the one face I wanted to put on one day and wear like the grandest trophy I would ever acquire.

My eyes floated back towards all my awards and trophies, the ones titles 'best actress', 'best acting award', 'summer 2016 best actress award', 'best stage crew', 'best supporting actress', 'best student director', 'autumn 2019 best actress award recipient', so on and so forth. All testimonies to the lies I've built up over the years.

But . . .

"Oh Audrey," I gasped out, finally finding my own words. "A continuous, sequential, and theatrical exquisite moment that never stopped."

It was true. My whole life had been one big, exquisite act that never ended. Even throughout my whole derealization episode, it was all exquisite! Is there not a moment more exquisite than human suffering and success?

I threw the blankets off of me and grabbed a towel. Within minutes I had washed myself, fixed my room, and was fed for the day.

"Today's exquisite moment," I spoke out into my room with a determined smile on my face. "Continuing."