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She can feel the prickling behind her eyes. She concentrates on her breathing, slow and controlled. The prickling will remain but so will the trained smile. Concentrate next on the voice. Don't let it fall. Don't let the hollowness come through. Don't let them hear the hurt.

Conversation flows, like a soft hum. She doesn't care to focus, just responds when it's expected. Her mind starts to drift as the conversation drags on. This was the first time in a long time she felt like a doll. She used to use that description more often but until this moment the description had felt like it had been misplaced.

Her mind was still restless and loud. The prickling behind her eyes was still very much present. Yet she could maintain. She could maintain the happy facade. She could maintain the illusion of being okay. She could still be what she was expected to be. She could maintain it all while falling apart on the inside.

A lull in the conversation gives her the out she was looking for. She is met with a pause when she says she is going out for a pack of cigarettes. Understandably so, she rarely ever did so. While she did want a cigarette in the moment, it wasn't the motivation tonight. It was merely the excuse she was using to leave for a bit.

Earbuds in she scrolled through her playlists looking for a specific one. As she stepped out into the cold night she let the music wrap around her. A fleeting moment of comfort in the bitter cold she had just left in favor of the bitter wind the night had to offer