Failing is not an option. Failing is not an option… I will not fail, I must not! I chanted this mantra for the millionth time. Yes, I did indeed say millionth. Gah! I balled my clammy hands into fists and shut my eyes forcefully, attempting futilely to placate the extreme frustration and exasperation inside me. I took a deep shaky breath. Okay, I can do this, relax, chill, and be cool.

I suddenly reopened my eyes exuberantly and let my held breath out with great enthusiasm, making my trainer, who was just a few feet before me, jumped back a little. I wonder why she was startled. Oh well; I gave her a reassuring smile and grabbed the pile of books in her hands a little too aggressively. Griping the books a little tighter, I lifted the pile steadily but halted my progress when the books were right above my head. I inhaled sharply, fear of failure surging wildly through me. I… I… I CAN DO THIS!... Tentatively, I position the pile of books onto my head. Instinctively, I held my breath as if it was the secret technique to achieve equilibrium. Yes, yes, steady… My trainer, Mrs. Meade, was silent before me. I guess Ms. Meade believes in magic too, for she was holding her breath, hoping that I would succeed finally in this challenge. This stupid challenge.
I swallowed dryly, and the books suddenly lost their balance. No no no….! I crooked my head to the side quickly to try and balance the books and…..the books fell from my head all together. The successive thuds pierced through the still silence in the room. My heart clenched tightly, the pang of disappointment indescribably painful. I stared at the void vacantly. I had trained myself all day long, just to feel the torment of failures over and over again. Yup, welcome to my life, my should-be-playing-but-responsibilities-still-come-first, life.
“Princess?” Mrs. Meade studied me.

Hiding my face in my hands, I sank to the floor, worn out and devastated. “Hey, easy there,” she knelt down and pulled my hands away. Blinking away the welled tears, I gazed up at her bleakly. She offered me her oh-so-nanny-like smile. I sighed. I really should keep trying, I shouldn’t fail her, I should not fail myself… What would father and mother do to her when I still couldn’t master this thing? What will mother and father do to me!? The classic books-on-the-head-walk-in-straight-line-to-increase-princess-abilities used to be a basic training for toddler princesses, and… there I was—a 16 year old princess stuck in this walk-in training. Actually, I’d only turn 16 this midnight and—ugh… the ball. I sighed again as the reminder alarm inside my head blared loudly. Double ugh.

“Tick tock. Five hours till your birthday ball, Princess,” Mrs. Meade pulled me away from my reverie. My heart sank further at her words. “Umm…hey, don’t get me wrong. What I’m trying to say is… five hours till havoc,” she muttered. What? I quirked my eyebrow, and stared at her quizzically. She smiled wryly, and answered my unspoken question. “Have fun. No one should look like this on their birthday.” Oh.

Slowly, she sat down across from me, that nostalgic smile never leaving her face. I inched closer, curious about what she really wanted to say. It was totally un-Mrs.Meade.
“Don’t waste your life…living someone else’s life,” she whispered, her gray eyes intense. Whoa? Wait, wait, wait. Don’t tell me she was trying to say— “You don’t even want to be a princess, do ya?” I gaped at her, stunned. “I mean, princess princess. The…formal type, you know.” She floundered for the right words helplessly. I quirked my eyebrow further.

“It’s not…wrong, to be flippant sometimes. I mean, just be…yourself, and…live the life you want,” she stated cautiously, afraid that I’d get her wrong. She gazed at me with concern, gauging my reaction. And of course, I still failed to find my voice.

“You’re still young. Play and enjoy life while you still can.” Her voice was thick with emotion.
“Thanks,” I managed to squeak appreciatively. She replied to me with her gracious smile before closing the door quietly behind her.

Totally bemused and lost, I sprawled onto the floor, my mind stretching in every possible direction. I closed my eyes, trying to process her words. Living someone else’s life… Well, it was obvious that I’ve never wanted to be a princess. A regal, full-time serious princess. I snorted at that thought. A flippant princess. Flippant? Hmm… playful, she meant. Which normal teenager wouldn’t be flippant? But then, that flippancy of mine was always well masked. It was one of those stupid to-be-a-princess rules. I sighed, drained.

Enjoy life. Uh-huh. I didn’t even have true friends or normal friendships. Why again? Oh, because I was a princess. Ugh! If only— hold on a sec… what if… I wasn’t a princess?
I sat up abruptly, an idiotic grin plastered across my face. A light bulb suddenly radiated above my head! Ohh… this was going to be so much fun! Real fun.

I donned the cerulean mask, making my face perfectly disguised. I glanced down at my own attire—a cowgirl suit. The overall was a tint of copper brown, a little faded, but it wasn’t like I gave a damn about the thing. I brushed off the dust and lint the suit has accumulated, looked up and down the suit, and gave it a final check. I grinned triumphantly. Awesomesauce.

I pushed past the grandiose double doors excitedly, and strode into the opulent ballroom. The convivial chatters fluttered into my ears. The eloquent music in the background was so peaceful and calming. The void inside me was filled with colorful emotions. I closed my eyes, welcoming the waves of music. It was like the world danced around me, and I was the main star that radiated the energy to make the world go round. I feel so…alive.

A gasp from behind snapped me out of my music-bathing. Before I could turn around and find the source of that disembodied voice, two teeny-tiny hands wrapped themselves around mine tightly.

“Cowgirl? Cowgirl!” an out-of-nowhere little boy about five jumped up and down in front of me, squeezing and swinging my hand around. He giggled impishly. He looked so excited. He was wearing a fitting tuxedo, but it was obvious that his tie was too tight. His parents were nowhere to be seen.

“Hey there, I wonder what name could ever fit this charming little boy, hmm.”
I bent down and ruffled his unruly copper hair, mirroring his impish grin. He flashed me his shy boyish smile and answered, “Ethan.”, his tone shaky. I giggled at his coyness. Who in their right minds wouldn’t adore this child?

A dramatic gasp escaped his mouth again. His cobalt blue eyes were suddenly alighted with extreme excitement and his mouth was in an O-shape, his initial coyness vanished. He seemed to be hit by a sudden realization, or…idea, I guess. He squeezed my hand again, and gazed up at me, elated.

“Ethan shows cowgirl something! Music! Really cooool!” He increased his grip on my hands, and tugged me forward weakly. He was trying to lead me somewhere. OK. Now what was this mercurial boy up to? I shrugged and let him lead me. He was practically stumbling all the way.

“Ta…da!”, he pointed to a long dining table. It was empty if not for the row of wine glasses. Wait….I smirked. I knew this game. Each of the glasses was filled with different depths of liquid. They were in an ascending order. Ethan was already brandishing a teaspoon beside me. Where did he get it?

He gazed up at me with his big cobalt blue eyes again. “Ethan can play. Nice music.” He waddled forward and stood before the row of glasses. He lifted the teaspoon, paused, then pouted innocently. His forehead was scrunched up into a frown. He seemed to have forgotten how to play. Then, almost instantly, his eyebrows shot up and his face denoted a light-bulb moment, and that boyish smile was back again. Tentatively, he clinked the glasses randomly, and a pristine, heart-clenching melody floated into the air, filling the void inside me once more. I shook my head unbelievably, marveling at this lovable child, that idiotic grin of mine creeping back again.

He finished his extravaganza with a last dramatic flourish and clink, then lifted the teaspoon in the air, triumphant. I clapped in marvel and enthusiasm, and he flashed me that coy smile again.

“Cowgirl wants to play?! Ethan can teach!” He beamed up at me expectantly. That look… who wouldn’t go for it? I bent down, smiled genuinely, and ruffled his soft copper hair again. Sigh, if only I didn’t have any priorities. Things could get really ugly if my parents found out about this—me at the ball in a cowgirl suit playing with a little boy. Besides, I couldn’t just drop all my responsibilities and be a kid right? But this child… hurting his feelings would be the last thing I wanted to do. I stood up higher, frowning at my own uncertainty. This was MY birthday ball. Oh, and it wasn’t wrong to be a flippant princess sometimes, right? Okay, I’ve got this. I shook my head dismissively, and turned my attention back to the child before me. I couldn’t help but mirror his impish grin back.
“Enlighten cowgirl.”