Wanted Beauty

The operation room was more intimidating than she was expecting. Yet despite her agonizing feeling of anxiety, she had to admit that the room was perfect. The room was covered with a geometric tiled floor that reflected the shining glass bulbs that hung from the ceiling above her delicate face. The operation table was covered in an ivory sheet smoothed out across the bed, folded neatly over the curves of the mattress, and is illuminated by natural rays and sways in the wake of a calm breeze. 

What caught her attention was the pictures of other clients. Although they were to show off the doctor’s handiwork, to Magnolia they were as breathtaking as painted works of art. It was as if she were visiting the Louvre's most precious artworks painted in the artist’s image with no wrinkles, lines, crooked noses, or oddly shaped earlobes. They had no imperfections and were ideal beauties. 

She was awestruck by their petite noses, their lips that curled slightly at the corners, their molded chins and soft cheek bones. She felt that she could reach out and touch their soft rosy faces. 

Magnolia turned to look at the clock nestled between the two lone corners of the operation room. 10:50 AM. Ten more minutes, she thought. She began to tap her toes against the linoleum floor, the repeated sounds were soothing, however, it wasn't enough, she needed to distract herself with something else. 

Magnolia fumbled around in her handbag and quickly took out her phone, furiously typing her password on the cracked screen and opened a new tab. She clicked onto the search tab and typed in “Belage Cosmic Surgery Center”. Ever since she woke up, every hour on the hour leading up to her appointment she religiously refreshed the surgery website to see if new reviews had been posted on their comment section. No new ones, she thought as a low sigh escaped from her lips. 

Even so, Magnolia decided to read the reviews that were already posted. 

Or re-read them, or is it re re-read them?

One of the top comments on the page was by glitzkitten69. Hysterical, Magnolia thought. Her comment read “OMG! Could not have asked for a better job. Dr. Beau is so freaking magical and easy on the eyes to boot.” A reply under the comment read “If I wasn’t already engaged, I would marry this man in a heartbeat.” 

Humorous as they are, they aren't exactly helpful to me. Someone must’ve posted something useful instead of thirsting over the dang doctor. 

Magnolia continued to scroll down the page and of course they were towards the bottom of the webpage, Another commenter by the name Dolly_Holly83 wrote “Dr. Beau is a total professional in his craft. I have never looked and felt better about myself. I remember the second I came home, my husband lifted me off my feet and spun me around. I have never seen him look at me that way before. 10/10 would recommend.” 

Maybe he will look at me that way too.. 

“Magnolia Cage!” came a thunderous voice accompanied by the loud thud of a closing door. “My name is Dr. Beau and I will be working with you today.” He took out a clipboard from the counter draw in the room and flipped through the pages. “Nose, ears, chin… Wow, you want the whole fix don't you? We can definitely do that,” said Dr. Beau. “Yeah, I guess so” Magnolia said softly. “You guess so? This is a pretty big operation, so you can’t really be so indecisive” he explained. “Are you really sure you want to go through with this?” 

She could feel her cheeks burn at his retort and she wanted to throw over the covers lying on the bed and hide herself from his burning sight. On her way to the doctors, she was wary of her decision. The thought of needles plunged through her flesh and slabs of peeled off skin made her stomach lurch. However, she continued to remind herself why she was doing this. Rather who she was doing this for. 

She worked as a barista often on weekends when the pub was bustling with listless expressions only to be reawakened by fresh spirits and convenient company, even if it is for a moment. The sound of a fragile bell turned her attention from the crowd to him. His presence muted the boisterous ramblings of the horde surrounding her. He slowly approached her, and it was as if they were in their own world.

She would often come over to his apartment to cook and clean for him. Despite his objections, she insisted, “I just want to be helpful,” became her customary response. She was devoted to him because he made her feel special and as though she had a purpose. 

Their relationship had begun to unravel over the past few weeks. Although he did not use words, she was able to read his expressions and body language which revealed all she needed to know. What sealed her fate was a heavy stack of magazines in his bedside cabinet overflowing with magazines. Each page was covered with models perfectly pictured and posed. Are these women even real, who even looks like that! Sunken cheeks, filled lips, hourglass figure, modeled cheekbones, and a small stomach. Each of these women looked the same as the last. I should be mad and angry with him, but he’s all I have. 

The thought of plastic surgery never crossed her mind. Visualizing the poking and prodding made her stagger back into the edge of the bed frame. 

“So, are you ready to begin?” questioned Dr. Beau. Magnolia turned to face him out of her blissful daydream. “Yes, I am,” she said with a sense of unforeseen confidence that even surprised Dr. Beau. Fixing his stance, he said, “Alright then, I’ll have the nurses help me set everything up and get you prepped.” “Thank you,” Magnolia asserted. 

She was hit with a sudden exhaustion, and she could hear faint words “Mallet, chisel, wires…” Dr. Beau’s words echoed within the walls of her unconscious mind, and she slowly slipped away into a deep slumber. 

Crumbling roof tiles, dried paint flecks littering the ground, battered in fences. Late nights, bottles lining the counter like antiques, stained carpets mistaken for mud. Children cupping their hands to each other's ears, devious giggles, youthful rumors flourishing. The little girl’s heartbeat feels like fire in her chest, her brain bashing against her skull, shivering in the corner listening to the deafening shrieks from across the hall. 

She feels shackled to a life not her own. 

There was darkness when she came to, and the sound of hushed voices filtered throughout the room. Rough bandages lined her face and once she realized she was not dreaming, and immense

pain began to surface. She remained in the hospital recovering for what could only be compared to decades living in darkness alone. 

When she was discharged from the hospital in the following weeks, she headed straight to his apartment to show him the surprise. She used the spare key he had given her after their second date. Rushing up the stairs, her footfalls pressed against the plush carpeting with no sign of stopping and she suddenly froze. She saw her reflection in the hallway mirror. 

Nipping at her skin, pulling her hair, pinching her ears. This foreign body mimicked her in every way, and she knew she was standing in front of the mirror. Yet this form was unrecognizable, she did not recognize that woman. That face from the past was gone. Small sobs coupled with choking gasps began to trickle out from her. 

The sound of laughter came from outside and sapped her back to reality as she sauntered towards the window and saw a recognizable figure in an intimate embrace.

by Noelle Ross

Noelle Ross is a senior at the University at Albany with a major in history and a minor in art history and her plans are to go to law school and pursue a career in the law field. She also has found an interest in writing poetry and short stories in her free time. When she is not studying or writing, you can almost always find her reading or knitting.